George Collins- Howell (SC) 1925 Smith

George Collins- Howell (SC) 1925 Smith

[From South Carolina Ballads, Reed Smith, 1928. His notes follow.

R. Matteson 2015]


IX. LADY ALICE (GILES COLLINS)
(Child, No. 85)

The American title of this ballad is "Giles," "John," "George," or "young Collins-" Campbell and Sharp give five variants and five tunes, and Cox gives five texts. For other American variants and references, see Cox's head-note, p. 110. In plot, this ballad is the counterpart, or opposite, of "Lord Lovel," Child, No. 75.
"George Collins," communicated by Professor H. C. Davis, of the University of South Carolina, in 1915, who obtained it from H. Cordle, one of his students, who took it down from the singing of Mrs. Howell, of Lexington County, S. C. Mrs. Howell has been familiar with the ballad from childhood, and Mr. Cordle states that he has frequently heard it sung in the Dismal Swamp region of Virginia. Professor Davis says of the local version:
"It is unquestionably one that has been orally transmitted, along with 'Barbara Allen,' in mill communities. This particular instance probably belongs in the stream of migration, of recent years, from the highlands of the state into the mill villages."

1. George Collins rode home last Wednesday night,
He rode so slow and fine;
George Collins rode home last Wednesday night,
And there took sick and died.

2. His dearest Mamie was in yonder hall,
A-sewing her silk so fine;
So soon as she heard George Collins was dead,
She laid it all aside.

3. She followed him up, she followed him down,
She followed him to the ground;
She fell upon bending knees,
She cried, she wept, she moaned.

4. "O daughter, O daughter, don't grieve so hard,
F'or there's more young men than George,"
"O mother, O mother, he is all my heart,
And now I'm left alone.

5. "Don't you see yonder lonely dove
A-flying from pine to pine,
A-weeping and a-mourning for his own true love;
And why not me for mine?

6. "Sit down the coffin, lift up the lid,
Spread back that sheet so fine,
And let me kiss his cold clay lips;
I am sure he will never kiss mine."