Edward / What Put the Blood? / The Blood on His Shirt Sleeve
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Cain Leadeth Abel to Death â Chromolithograph book plate, James Tissot, 1904 |
Note: This is Part 1 of a 4 part series â see also Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4
This week weâre back in to the Child Ballads.  Itâs been over a month since Kenâs last foray into this territory, so I figure weâre due and that itâs my turn to make the trip.  Iâve been meaning to get to âEdwardâ, one of my favorites, since Ken first asked me to join him in this journey.  I considered making it my first effort!
 But Iâve hesitated until now, mainly because in relatively few versions of this ballad is the reason for the murder (usually fratricide) even clearly implied, much less declared.  It makes writing about it feel like walking through a cow pasture at night.  So, I studied up and now at least I think Iâve got some moonlight to help.  But we still need to be careful about making claims concerning just *why* this murder happens.  I will say this â âCain and Abelâ it ainât â I mean, unless you want it to be.  Oh, but Iâll get into all that later this week.
âEdwardâ â  Jean Ritchie (Spotify)
Lyrics for Ritchieâs version (note Jeanâs interesting commentary before the printed music and lyrics)
My introduction to this ballad came from Jean Ritchie.  It was one of those songs that I just happened to be listening to as part of an album Iâd sought out for a different tune.  In the background it played, but I turned it up as I began to grasp just how truly weird and powerful it was.  I was mesmerized.  And even now, after digging deeply into its confused history, this one has an odd and powerful hold on me.
How came that bloodâŚ?Â
What about that history then?  Iâll keep it streamlined for now.  Francis Child wrote about this ballad in the 1880âs as his #13.  Of it he enthused âEdward is not only unimpeachable, but has ever been regarded as one of the noblest and most sterling specimens of the popular ballad.â He collected though only two complete versions and a verse of a third. However, the Roud Folksong Index today identifies it as #200, and catalogs nearly 300 versions thus far.  Besides the typical dispersal in the English speaking world, there are also many Scandinavian versions, some of which Child used in his work.  Iâll do more with the scholarship on this ballad in my second post.
The controversy surrounding Childâs main âspecimenâ Iâll take up in detail in my third post this week.  Suffice it for now to note that it is the oldest known written version, taken from Bishop Thomas Percyâs 1765 edition of Reliques of Ancient English Poetry â and it is *highly* impeachable as a folk ballad; indeed, most likely rewritten by a gentleman editor.  I wouldnât spend time on it in its own post but for two things.  It was rewritten *quite well* and so it most certainly moves a reader, and there are some great recorded versions that do the same for a listener!
 I skip it temporarily in favor of what seems to be that ânoble and sterlingâ ballad of the folk, mostly uncovered since Childâs time and (more or less) independent of Percyâs version.  Today weâll get a glimpse of it in America and Ireland, then Scotland and England in my second post.
In all versions, itâs a ballad in two voices; a mother and her sonâs. The mother sees the blood on her sonâs sword or clothes, and asks after it. Â The son dissembles, claiming it is of this animal or that. But Mama knows! Â (I guess if you donât get your meat in grocery stores, you just know the different shades of blood.) Â Eventually her son reveals heâs killed his brother, brother-in-law, or (in Percyâs case) father. Â Many Irish versions have him killing an unrelated boy or young man. Â In versions other than Percyâs, the motive is usually revealed to be an argument about a bush or sapling yet to grow full. Â (See what I mean? Â Weird. Â Weâll see in the next post though that this *may* be the key to the song.) Â Anyway, in all versions the two then play out the consequences for his crime, which usually involves the son leaving on a boat, never to return.
Hazelnuts and Sycamores, Roosters and Hounds
Ritchieâs Appalachian version leaves out the sapling and makes the victim a brother-in-law, implying perhaps jealousy over a wife as a motive for the murder, though we are left wholly to speculate. (And if you start thinking on whose wife and why the jealousy, youâll see why we ought to be careful where we walk with this one.)  Most American versions though usually highlight the argument about the young tree, and make it a fight between brothers.  Here are two field recordings from the Ozarks (lyrics and playback file integrated on each page.)  The sapling is a hazelnut in these.
 âThe Blood of the Old Red Roosterâ â Irmadene Finch, 1953
âThe Blood on his Shirt Sleeveâ â Almeda Riddle, 1970
You can find four more similar field recordings at this site, if you look under Child Ballad #13.  In these we see a âmerry bushâ, a âsproutâ and a âsycamoreâ as the cause of the fight.
To round out our American sample, we have an experimental and quite pleasing effort by Amps for Christ.  While itâs esoteric musically, the lyrics are clearly traditional and resemble almost  wholly an Appalachian version Cecil Sharp collected in the early 20th Century.  Interestingly, in the YouTube version the two voices are of two different singers as in âJack Strawâ.  It works quite well in my humble opinion; I find it most pleasing.
Amps for Christ â âEdwardâ (Spotify, different than the YouTube version) Â
In all of these American versions, the animals (like the sapling when named) are native or commonly known in the areas of ballad collection. Â As many before have noted, the hawk weâll see in Percyâs version is rarely seen; not because of its native range but probably because keeping birds of prey was not hobby of the disappearing gentle class in America.
(For artâs sake I should link you as well to the version by Muleskinner Jones â also with two voices/singers.  The treatment he gives the ballad is not my cup of tea, but itâs clearly good work and may appeal to you.)
I was fishing and a-fowling the whole day throughâŚ
Irish versions of the ballad, known usually as âWhat Put the Blood?â or âWho Put the Blood?â, are perhaps the most popular today; they seem to account for the most recent professional recordings. Â They also differ from the American versions we sampled in a few key ways. Â First though, letâs listen to some.
Karan Casey gives us a musically modern version with traditional lyrics.  I canât find a copy on Spotify or YouTube, but you can go to her homepage and use her âwidgetâ.  Itâs song number 8, and worth the extra clicking to hear!
Karan Casey â âWho Put the Blood?â â Lyrics
Al OâDonnell recently recorded a similar version, with on old-time banjo accompaniment that is both jarring and haunting.  This became one of my favorite recordings of this ballad as soon as I heard it!  (Al doesnât have much of a web presence, but this comment on Mudcat gives us a start.)
Al OâDonnell â âWhat Put the Blood?â (Spotify)
Lyrics for OâDonnellâs version
Two recorded versions from the 1970âs, now available in the Voice of the People series, can shed a bit more light. One is from Paddy Tunney and the other Mary Delaney.  Both perform in the traditional manner but each of course brings their own style and voice to it, and theyâre both well worth hearing.
âWhat Put the Bloodâ â Paddy Tunney (Spotify)   Lyrics for Tunneyâs version
What Put the Bloodâ â Mary Delaney (Spotify)    Lyrics for Delaneyâs version
Granting that this is only a sliver of the Irish representatives of the ballad, we can nonetheless see some patterns that differentiate it from the American variants.  Three of the four versions have it as a homicide, of an unrelated boy specifically; only Delaneyâs makes it fratricide.  Like the American versions, all still have the sapling as the spark for violence.  All of the Irish versions here, and those others Iâve listened to but left out, have the killer as a man of means.  This is not the case in the American variants that I know, and it probably explains the difference in structure.  The Irish versions focus more on what the man has to lose as a consequence, whereas the American versions tend to linger on the manâs lies to his mother.
Percyâs version, weâll see, also has the son as a gentleman like the Irish versions, though I donât mean to suggest that they are directly derived from Percyâs.  Interestingly, Tunneyâs version introduces the idea that the mother plays some part in all this, which weâll also explore in more depth with Percyâs version.  Youâll see then though that Tunneyâs version doesnât really work the same way with regard to the motherâs involvement.
Coda
Let me close today then with an exciting version of this ballad from an energetic artist who is establishing his name in folk music today;Â Sam Amidon, from Vermont. Â I post his version here mainly because it rocks, but also because lyrically to my ear it seems like a combination of both American and Irish versions, with a bit of Percy thrown in for good measure. (Here are his lyrics.) Musically, itâs compelling and delightfully eclectic. Â It seems to be derived from Cordeliaâs Dadâs version, which youâll hear later this week, but when you hear the performance you probably wonât care all that much about that âoriginsâ stuff anyway.
Note: This weekâs exploration inspired a personal response from me too, here.
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