Springfield Mountain

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'Springfield Mountain' is purported to be the first original American ballad. This was how the news was spread in the days before radio, television or the internet. A minstrel would go from town to town and sing about the most recent events. This song is the true story of twenty-two year old Lieutenant Timothy Merrick, a young man who was about to be married. He was bitten by a rattlesnake in Springfield Mountain Massachusetts, on August 7, 1761 and died within three hours of the attack. His grave can still be seen fourteen miles north of that city.

There are many different versions of this ballad. Some were wild exaggerations made up by vaudeville performers, in which Merrick's wife-to-be died as a result of trying to suck the poison out with a broken tooth.

'Now Molly had a broken tooth, and so the poison killed them both.'

On this song, I used a Martin 0021 6-string and a Vega/Ode 5-string banjo. Both instruments are tuned down 1/2 step. 'Springfield Mountain' is here in honor of Spring. Watch your step.

Lyrics:
[Am] On Springfield Mountain there did dwell
[C] Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do
[Am] On Springfield Mountain there did dwell [E7] tum – a – row
[Am] On Springfield Mountain [G]there did dwell A [F] handsome youth I knew [E7] full well
[Am] Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – [G] lime – a – diddle – [Am] do

One Monday morning he did go
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do
One Monday morning he did go tum – a – row
One Monday morning he did go Down in the meadow for to mow
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do

He mowed once round that lengthy field
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do
He mowed once round that lengthy field tum – a – row
He mowed once round that lengthy field And a poison serpent bit his heel
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do

They brought him to his Molly dear
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do
They brought him to his Molly dear tum – a – row
They brought him to his Molly dear Which made her feel so mighty queer
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do

Oh Johnny dear why did you go?
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do
Oh Johnny dear why did you go? tum – a – row
Oh Johnny dear why did you go Down in the meadow for to mow?
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do

Oh Molly Dear now don't you know
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do
Oh Molly Dear now don't you know tum – a – row
Oh Molly Dear now don't you know It's father's field and must be mowed
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do

On Springfield Mountain there did dwell
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do
On Springfield Mountain there did dwell tum – a – row
On Springfield Mountain there did dwell A handsome youth I knew him well
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do

Easter

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This is a song that was performed by Lead Belly on his 12-string guitar. It's interesting to note that although it's in the key of E minor, Leadbelly played only major chords while singing the minor melody line, as he did with all his songs in a minor key. The effect is very unusual and quite appealing.
Lyrics:
[E] On Easter morn' He rose
On Easter morn' He rose
On Easter morn' He rose [B7] for me
[E] One day when I was [E7]lost
They [A] hung Him on a [E] cross
They [A] hung Him on a [B7] cross for [E] me

The sky turned dark and gray
The sky turned dark and gray
The sky turned dark and gray for me
One day when I was lost
They hung Him on a cross
They hung Him on a cross for me

He bowed His head and died
He bowed His head and died
He bowed His head and died for me
One day when I was lost
They hung Him on a cross
They hung Him on a cross for me

They laid Him in a tomb
They laid Him in a tomb
They laid Him in a tomb for me
One day when I was lost
They hung Him on a cross
They hung Him on a cross for me

On Easter morn' He rose
On Easter morn' He rose
On Easter morn' He rose for me
One day when I was lost
They hung Him on a cross
They hung Him on a cross for me

To Morrow

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This is a recording of me at age 16, in 1958 (38 years ago) made on a Pentron reel to reel tape machine running at 7 1/2 inches per second. There is a tape stretch in the last verse, but the overall quality is quite good, considering its age.

I first heard this song from Bob Gibson at the Latin School of Chicago where I was a student. My music teacher was a friend of Bob's and asked him to perform an hour show for us, early in the fall of 1957. I hadn't been exposed to folk music prior to that and became so interested that I enrolled at Chicago's, Old Town School of Folk Music later that year.

To Morrow is a traditional American folk song with Irish roots and is here as a tribute to St. Patrick's Day.

Lyrics:
[D] I started on a journey, [G] about a year [D] ago
To a little town called Morrow in the [E] state of [A] Ohio
I've [D] never been much of a traveller, so I [G] really didn't [D] know
That [G] Morrow was the [D] hardest place I'd ever [A] try to [D] go!

I [G] went down to the [D] station for my [G] ticket and [D] applied
For [G] tips regarding [D] Morrow not [E] expecting to be [A] guyed (means fooled)
[D] Said he to me, 'Now let me see if [G] I have heard you [D] right–
You'd [G] like to go to [D] Morrow and return [A] tomorrow [D] night'

'You should have gone to Morrow yesterday and back today
For the train today to Morrow is a mile upon its way….
If you had gone to Morrow yesterday now don't you see
you could have gone to Morrow and returned today at three.'

'For the train today to Morrow if the schedule is right
Today it goes to Morrow and returns tomorrow night'
I was so disappointed I was mad enough to swear,
The train had gone to Morrow and it left me standing there.

The man was right in tellin' me that I was howlin' jay
I could not go to Morrow, so I guess in town I'll stay.

John Riley

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I first heard this song in 1960, at the Club 47, in Cambridge Massachusetts. Joan Baez was performing. She was young and beautiful, with long, flowing black hair. She played and sang with more feeling than anyone I had ever seen before. Her finger-picking technique particularly impressed me, because a lot of folk singers just strummed. But she could really pick.

I was in love that autumn, with the colors and smells of Cambridge and with Joan Baez.

The 12-string is in the Dm position, but played in the key of E with a capo on the second fret. The 5-string banjo is in the G position with the fifth string tuned down to E.

Lyrics:
[Dm] Fair young maid [G] all in her [Dm] garden
Strange young man [G] come riding [Dm] by
Saying fair young [F] maid will you marry [C] me?
And this dear [Em] sir was her [Dm] reply

Oh no dear sir I cannot marry thee
For I've a love who sails the deep salt sea
Though he's been gone for seven years
Still no man shall marry me

What if he's died all in some battle slain?
Or if he's drownded in the deep salt sea
What if he's found another love
He and his new love both married be?

Well if he's died all in some battle slain
Or if he's drownded in the deep salt sea
I'll remember his good name
And still no man shall marry me.

And if he's found some other love
He and his true love both married be
I wish them health and happiness
Where they now live all across the sea

He picked her up all in his arms
And kisses gave her one two and three
Saying weep no more my own true love
For I'm your long lost John Riley
Saying weep no more my own true love
For I'm your long lost John Riley

Argonaut, The

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There are many versions of this old sea chantey. Some are called 'Blow Ye Winds Of Morning.' This one is a classic tale of disaster at sea. Working aboard the whaling ships of the Nineteenth Century was a treacherous way to make a living. Sailors were often killed during shore leave, but in some cases their ships would never return to their home ports.

The 12-string guitar and banjo are tuned down one half step to F#, but the chord pattern is in the 'G' position.

Lyrics:
[G] 'Twas the twenty-first of [D] January
[G] Eighteen fifty [D] three
[G] Our gallant ship the [D] Argonaut
Set sail for [Em] jubilee
Singin' [G] blow ye winds of morning
Blow ye winds [C] hi ho
[G] Stow away your [C] runnin' gear and
[G] Blow [C] boys [G] blow [C] [G] [C] [G]

We headed up to Greenland
Into the wintry seas
Where there's ice and snow, and the whale fish blow
And Jamaca rum would freeze
Singin' blow ye winds of morning
Blow ye winds hi ho
Stow away your runnin' gear and
Blow boys blow

Our captain Davy Grant me boys
He give us all a treat
And that is why we caught a whale
That measured fifty feet
Singin' blow ye winds of morning
Blow ye winds hi ho
Stow away your runnin' gear and
Blow boys blow

And when reached Cape Harrison
The weather it turned clear
Our pilot aimed us to the south
And homeward we did steer
Singin' blow ye winds of morning
Blow ye winds hi ho
Stow away your runnin' gear and
Blow boys blow

But shortly out of Newfoundland
A storm began to rise
The seas kicked up, the mast it broke
The Argonaut capsized
Singin' blow ye winds of morning
Blow ye winds hi ho
Stow away your runnin' gear and
Blow boys blow

Of all those bold, brave sailors
On that day did set sail
Well I'm the only one alive
Left to tell the tale
Singin' blow ye winds of morning
Blow ye winds hi ho
Stow away your runnin' gear and
Blow boys blow

It was the twenty-first of January
Eighteen fifty three
Our gallant ship the Argonaut
Set sail for jubilee
Singin' blow ye winds of morning
Blow ye winds hi ho
Stow away your runnin' gear and
Blow boys blow

Virgin Mary

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Around Christmas time each year at the old Gate of Horn in Chicago, folk singers would perform slow legato versions of this old spiritual. They were usually sopranos accompanying themselves on the autoharp. I often wondered what this song would have sounded like on the 12-string, so here is my interpretation with lots of bass runs on the big Martin D-12-45,in the style of the great 12-string legend, Lead Belly.
Lyrics:
[Em] The Virgin Mary had a little baby
Oh oh glory hallelujah
[Am] Oh oh pretty little baby
[Em] Glory be to the [B7] new born [Em] king

Mary what-cha gonna name your pretty little baby
Oh oh glory hallelujah
Oh oh pretty little baby
Glory be to the new born king

Well some call Him one thing I know His name is Jesus
Oh oh glory hallelujah
Oh oh I know His name is Jesus
Glory be to the new born king

Some call Him one thing I'm gonna call Him Savior
Oh oh glory hallelujah
Oh oh I'm gonna call Him Savior
Glory be to the new born king

The Virgin Mary had a little baby
Oh oh glory hallelujah
Oh oh pretty little baby
Glory be to the new born king

Old Paint

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Old Paint is a song that tells the story of the special relationship between a cowboy and his horse. The setting is in the 1800s, when adventurous people forged westward in search of greater freedom and happiness. The last verse is especially interesting where the cowboy wants to be entombed, as it where, on the back of his pony, traveling across the endless prairie. This is clearly a metaphor for man's quest for eternal life.

A coulee is a depression in the prairie; a draw is, almost a ravine.

On this song I used a Martin D-12-45 with a capo on the second fret. The recording is in the key of 'A' but the chord pattern is in the key of 'G.'

Lyrics:
[G] I ride an old [Em] paint, I [G] lead an old [Em] Dan
I'm [D] goin' to Montan' for to [G] throw the hoo-li-an
They [D] feed in the cou-lees, they [G] water in the draw
Their [D] tails are all matted, and their [C] backs are all [G] raw
Ride [D] around little dogies, [G] ride around slow
For the [D] Firey and Snuffy are a [C] rarin' to [G] go

Old Bill Jones had a daughter and a son
One went to college and the other went wrong
His wife she died in a pool-room fight
And still he keeps singing from morning 'til night
Ride around little dogies, ride around slow
For the Firey and Snuffy are a rarin' to go

When I die take my saddle from the wall
Lead me down to my pony, take him out of his stall
Put my bones on his back, point our faces to the west
And we'll ride the prairie, that we love the best
Ride around little dogies, ride around slow
For the Firey and Snuffy are a rarin' to go