Lady Margaret- Williams (NL) 1951 Leach REC
[From MacEdward Leach and the Songs of Atlantic Canada (online). In 1949, 1950, and 1951, MacEdward Leach made three trips to Atlantic Canada with a recording machine. This was recorded in 1951, to listen:
http://www.mun.ca/folklore/leach/sounds/NFLD2/12-07_51.mp3
Notes from the site follow.
R. Matteson 2015]
St. Vincent's is located at the eastern opening of Holyrood Pond, an estuary off the southwestern arm of St. Mary's Bay. Like many other small communities in the area, it was used by 16th century French and Portuguese migratory fishermen as a seasonal station. Most notable is its connection with the Portuguese fishery; St. Vincent's appeared as "Porta da Cruz" on a Portuguese map of the region dated 1519. Permanent settlement began in the late 1700s when English and Irish settlers established a local salmon fishery. Holyrood Pond is still known today for its sea-run trout and salmon populations.
During his field research in 1951, Leach collected songs from Thomas Williams of the St. Vincent's community.
Lady Margaret- Performed by Thomas Williams of St. Vincent's. Accession # 78-054 NFLD 2 Tape 12 Track 7
Lady Margaret she sat in her lonely bower
Built out of lime and stone
Lady Margaret she sat in her lonely bower
When she heard a deadly moan
Is that my father the king she cried
Or is it my brother John
Or is it my true love now knight Will’am [sic]
That is 'ome from Scotland come
It is not your father the king he cried
Or it’s not your brother John
But it is your own true love knight Will’am
That is 'ome from Scotland come
If it is my own true love knight Will'am
As l suppose you are to be
Where is that fine and fair yellow hair
That grew so long on thee
The ground has rotted and the worms have ate
As you might plainly see
And if you were in the grave so long
You would be ________________________
I come to you for my faith and troth
That l left in pleasure with thee
Your faith or troth you never shall get, or any other thing
Until you bring me to some church, and wed me with a ring
Oh no oh no lady Margaret he says
Sure that can never be
For if ever the dead could wed with the livin'
My dear l would wed 'long wit' thee
She tucked up her petticoats then
And that up to her knee
She went over the hills of a cold frosty night
In the dead man's company
But when they came to the old churchyard
Where the moss grew grassy and green
Sayin here is my home lady Margaret he said
And the place l do dwell in
Oh- he ta- Place l do dwell in
Are they any room at your bed head
Are they any at your feet
Are they any room at all she said
That I’d lie down to sleep
My father he's at my bed head
M mother she's at my feet
And there’s three hellhounds all round me
Tryin' my poor soul to take
There is one of them for my drunkenness
And another of them for my pride
And another of them for eluding pretty maids
And stopping out late by night
She caught him by the lily-white hand
And struck him on the breast
Sayin' here is your faith and your troth back again
And in heaven your soul may rest