The Loathly Bride- Barry A (Maine) 1929;
[From Barry, Eckstorm, Smyth, British Ballads From Maine, Yale University Press, 1929. Barry's notes follow.
R. Matteson 2014]
THE LOATHLY BRIDE
(cf. Child 31)
Ir would be rash to claim that the song which follows is a modernization of the ballad of "The Marriage of Sir Gawain"; but it certainly reproduces features of the medieval tale upon which the ballad was founded. The enchantment of the Arthurian legend is dismissed as out of date in a modern story. In the old tale, a lovely maiden, changed by her stepmother into a frightfully ugly hag, must, in order to regain her rightful shape, marry a man, who will treat her courteously in spite of her hideousness. In the later story, a beautiful girl voluntarily assumes repulsiveness in order to test her lover. Because of her refusing to marry him, her lover in her presence has sworn a hasty oath that he will marry the first woman he sees who will accept him. Quickly disguising herself, the lady puts herself in the way of her lover in the shape of a ragged, dirty harridan, as ill-mannered as she is uncomely, to prove him, whether he will keep his oath or break it. As in so many degraded ballads, what was a serious subject is made into a comic tale.
The modern tale lacks the riddle and answer by which King Arthur's life is safeguarded, and lacks his rather unkingly saving himself by sacrificing the youth, and hopes of his devoted Gawain. Yet some features of the old romance stiil persist. A vow is made; and it is performed --which is the essence of knighthood. The young man in our story makes his own rash vow and repents it at leisure; but, like a knight, he does not repudiate his obligation. In the ballad of "Sir Gawain" there is a resemblance, which Professor Child has pointed out (I, 290-293,297-298), to certain Danish stories and to the ancient romance of "The Wedding of Sir Gawen and Dame Reynell." The same points- "the monstrous deformity of the woman," her exaggerated
appetite," her preference for public wedding and feasting which the groom would gladly have been spared, the repulsiveness of her ways of eating, the bridegroom's reluctance to embrace her, and her transformation at the wedding into a beautiful woman --mark this Maine text of unknown ancestry. One detail in particular, of the bride's loathliness (A, 11, line 3; compare Child 32 "King Henry," 6, 1), suggests the effect, not of disguise, but of enchantment.
The theme of the marriage of the courteous knight to the loathly maiden is very old, and was used. by romancers and even by the greater poets, as is pointed out in Maynardief s The Wife of Bath's Tale, Its Sources and Analogues. But in this recent text we notice one interesting point in the treatment which connects it with much earlier forms of composition. As sent in to us, the manuscript gave no indication of spoken parts being thrown in. It was not until after we had rearranged the lines to show this, that we saw the only other copy known to us. This also shows the spoken lines. This unusual feature recalls the medieval troubadours, chinsons, and makes it a sort of degenerate cante-fable. Finding this feature in two copies, which could
not possibly have any immediate connection, shows that the spoken lines were not an individual caprice.
The other copy of this song referred to was printed in 1919 by Mrs. Edith B. Sturgis and Robert Hughes in their Songs from the Hills of Vermont and gives tlie harmonized air. In his introduction, Mr. Hughes remarks: "I have been unable find a printed version of the unique and interesting old ballad 'The Half-Hitch" sung by James Atwood." Mr. Hughes's is the only other text we have seen beside the one we give, which was sent in to us by an old man, who entitled it, "The Silk Merchant's Daughter. An old English song." Old and English it must be, but it is not "The Silk Merchant's Daughter." Nor is the Vermont title of "The Half-Hitch" any more satisfactory, referring, as it does, only to the way the lady's petticoats hang. The name we have given points to the medieval background of the tale, where knights in armor ranged in quest of adventure, and relieved distressed damsels by their chivalry. For the single feature that the young man holds his oath as binding, proves the line of descent of the tale.
A. The Loathly Bride- Sung in July, 1925, by Justin DeCoster, Buckfield, as "An Old English Song."
1. There was a rich merchant in London did dwell,
He had a fair daughter, a beautiful girl,
A beautiful girl, with riches supplied,
A young man he courted her to be his bride.
2. He courted her long, he courted her well,
But still she [resolved] this young man to prove,
One time he said to her and then she replied,
She told him right off she would not be his bride.
3. He vowed right homeward he straightway would steer,
And all the sad oaths he made to his dear;
He'd wed the first woman he'd chance for to see,
If she was as mean as a beggar might be.
4. She ordered her servants this man to delay,
Her jewels and rings she put them away,
She dressed herself up in the worst rags she could find,
She looked like old gypsy[1] before and behind.
5. She clapped her hands on the chimney back
And rubbed them all over her face;
Into the streets she flew like a witch,
Her clothes they all hung upon a half-hitch.
6. Soon this young man came-riding along,
Then he cried for the oath he had sworn'
Although her old shoes, with the jumbled-out toes,
He soon overtook her, saying, "Who are you?"
(Spoken) "I'm a woman," she says.
7 This answer it struck him almost to a dead man,
He tottered, he trembled, he scarcely could stand,
He said to himself, "I wish I was buried,"
Then he did ask her, "Are you married?"
(Spoken) She says, "No, I hain't."
8 This answer it suited as well as the rest
Although they all lay very hard ion his breast.
He said to himself, "Oh can this all be?"
Then he did ask her, saying, "Will you marry me?,,
(Spoken) She says, "Yes, I will."
9 This answer it struck him with grief to the heart,
He said to himself, "Oh, I wish I had died,"
Then he did ask her behind him to ride.
(spoken) She says: "I won't; your horse will kick up and throw me off."
He said, "He won't."
She says, "He will, I know he will."
10 "Oh, no," he says, "my horse will not,"
So up behind him straightway she got.
"We'll to my uncles, and a while with him we'll tarry,
And in a few days, with you I will marry."
11 At dinner, they sat down to the table to eat;
With her hands she clawed out both cabbage and meat:
She lapped and she smacked and she showed her old snags,
She lapped them and wiped them on her old rags.
12 The wedding was over and the guests were about to depart;
There sat that poor fellow, he looked sick to the heart;
His wife she jump'd up and shook her frously old head,
And said, "Give me a candle and I will go to bed."
(Spoken) And she said to her husband, "When you hear my old shoe go down, You can come."
13 By and by her old shoe it went clum,
They give him a candle, bid him go along,
Some of them pitied his hard fate,
While others wished them in his place.
14 He got into bed with his back to his bride,
Then she turned over from side to side.
And as she turned over the bedstead did squeal,
Then he says to her: "Why can't you lie still?"
(Spoken) She says, "My shins are sore; bring me a candle so I can grease them."
15 He brought her a candle to grease his wife's shins,
Behold she was clothed in the finest of things,
He says "Is it you?" with his arms round her waist;
She told him it was and they all came in haste.
16 They went downstairs and the frolic they had,
And all of their hearts were merry and glad,
she hugged and kissed him, and called him dear boy,
We'll drink them a full glass and wish them much joy.
1. Probably pronounced gyps-eye, Atwood has "teapot," Avery has "cheepi."