(The) Knoxville Girl

From the singing of Mrs. Lee Stephens of White Rock, MO on 8/10/1927. Published in Vance Randolph’s 1980 collection, Ozark Folksongs, Vol. II.

‘Twas in the city of Pineville, I owned a flour-y mill
‘Twas in the city of Pineville, I used to live an’ dwell

One day I saw a pretty fair maid, on her I cast an eye
I told her I would marry her an’ she believed a lie

I went unto her sister’s house at eight o’clock at night
I asked her if she’d walk with me a little ways away

So arm in arm we walked along, till we come to a lonely place
Then I took a rail from off the fence an’ struck her in the face

She fell down on her bended knees, an’ loud for mercy cried
For heaven’s sake don’t murder me, for I’m not prepared to die

I paid no attention to what she said, but kept on strikin’ her more
Until I saw the innocent looks that I never could restore

I run my fingeres through her coal black hair, to cover up my sin
I drug her to the riverside, and there I plunged her in

When I returned unto my mill I met my servant John
He asked me why I looked so pale an’ yet so very warm

Another collection from Vance Randolph’s Ozark Folksongs, Vol. II (1980), this time, from the singing of Mr. J. Will Short of Galena, MO on 8/15/1941.

My father bound me a printer’s boy
‘Bout eighteen years of age
He bound me to a miller
That I might learn some trade

And there I fell in love with an orphan girl
With dark and sparkling eyes
I thought that I would marry her
If she did not deny

I went into this lady’s house
About eight o’clock at night
But little did the lady know
I owed her in despite

I asked her to take a walk with me
To some far distant place
Where we might have some private talk
And name the wedding date

She agreed to take a walk with me
To some far, distant place
Where we might have some private talk
And name the wedding date

I took her by the lily-white hand
And led her to the place
And from the fence I drew a stake
And smoothed her down the face

She fell upon her bended knees
Oh Lord, have mercy on me, she cried
Oh John, my dear, don’t murder me here
For I’m not prepared to die

The second time I drew my stake
Just as I did before
And our of her eyes and nose and mouth
The gushing blood did flow

I took her by the lily-white hand
And swung her round and round
An drug her down to the river’s side
And plunged her in to drown

I went into the miller’s house
About twelve o’clock at night
But little did the miller know
As he gazed upon my sight

Oh Johnny dear, how came that blood
Upon your hands, likewise your clothes?
The only reply I gave te miller
Was bleeding at the nose

I snatched the candle out of his hand
And to the bed I ran
And there I lie a-trembling
For the murder I had done

And there I lie a-trembling
No peace, no comfort, no rest
I felt the guilty pains of hell
A-rushing through my breast

They took me down to Washington
And there my life to try
And by my own confession
I was condemned to die

Published by W. Roy Mackenzie in his 1928 book Ballads and Sea Songs from Nova Scotia from the singing of Daniel Brown of River John. (1963 reprint linked here)

It was in the town of Waterford
Where I was bred and born
It was in the city of Baltimore
That I owned a flowered farm

I courted manys a Wexford girl
With dark and rolling eyes
I asked her for to marry me
And “Yes,” was her reply

I went up to her father’s house
About eight o’clock one night
I asked her for to take a walk
Our wedding day to appoint

We walked along quite easily
Till I came to level ground
I broke a stake out of a fence
And I beat this fair maid down

Down on her bended knee she fell
In mercy she did cry
“O Willie dear, don’t murder me
For I’m not prepared to die!”

He heeded not the words she said
But he beat her all the more
Till all the ground for yards around
Was in a bloody gore

I went up to my mother’s house
About twelve o’clock that night
My mother she’d been sitting up
She took an awful fright

“O son, dear son, what have you done?
What bled your hands and clothes”
The answer that I made to her
Was, “Bleeding of the nose.”

I asked her for a candle
To light my way to bed
Likewise a handkerchief to wrap
Around my aching head

I tied it and I twisted it
But no comfort could I find
The flames of Hell shone round me
And my true love not far behind

It was in about three weeks after
This fair maid she was found
A floating down the river
That leads to Wexford town

And all that saw he said she was
A beauteous handsome bride
That she was fit for any lord, duke, or king
Or any squire’s bride

I was taken on suspicion
And placed in Wexford gaol
Where there was none to pity me
Or none to go my bail

Come all ye royal true lovers
A warning take by me
And never treat your own true love
To any cruelty

For if you do you’ll rue like me
Until the day you die
you’ll hang like me, a murderer
All on the gallows high

Published by Mary O. Eddy in her 1932 book, Ballads and Songs from Ohio from the singing of Mrs. James Robertson of Perrysville, OH.

In the town of Waxford
I used to live and dwell
And in the town of Waxford
I owned a flour mill

I used to court the Waxford girl
With dark and roaming eyes
I asked her if she’d marry me
It was her own complies

We went into her sister’s house
The wedding to provide
I asked her to walk with me
Down by the river’s side

We roamed all o’er the hills and hollows
Till we came to level ground
Then I picked up a fence stake
And knocked this lady down

She fell upon her bended knees
“Have mercy,” she did cry
“Oh, Johnny dear, don’t murder me now
For I’m no prepared to die”

But little attention did I pay
I beat her all the more
Till everything around me
Was in a bloody gore

I took her by those yellow locks
I drug her on the ground
I threw her in the river
That runs through Waxford town

Twelve o’clock and after
When I returning home
My aged mother lie dreaming
For she was all alone

I asked her for a candle
To light me up to bed
And then for a handkerchief
To bind my aching head

“Son, oh, son, what have you done
To bloody your hands and clothes?”
The answer that I have to her
Was, “Bleeding at the nose”

So early next morning
This poor girl was found
Floating in the river
That runs through Waxford town

So early next morning
I was lodged in jail
No one to go my security
No one to go my bail

Her sister swore my life away
Without a fear or doubt
She swore I was the very man
That took her sister out

Another variant from Mary O. Eddy’s 1932 collection, Ballads and Songs from Ohio, this time from the singing of Mrs. M. E. Warner of Melco, OH who learned the song near Lyons, Fulton Co, OH. The words seem to bear just as much if not more resemblance to “Banks of the Ohio” than “Knoxville Girl.”

My love and I we took a walk
On the banks of the old Peedee
And as we walked, we gently talked
When our wedding day would be
Only say, only say that you will be mine
And your home will ever be
Where the silent waters flow
On the banks of the old Peedee

[A 2nd verse is shown without any words given]

He took her by the lily-white hand
And swung her round and round
Then threw her into the waters deep
And there he watched her drown
Because she said she’d never be mine
And her home would never be
Where the silent waters flow
On the banks of the old Peedee

Published in Emelyn Elizabeth Gardner & Geraldine Jencks Chickering’s 1939 book Ballads and Songs of Southern Michigan (1967 reprint linked here) from the singing of Mrs. Russell Wood of Kalkaska, MI who learned it from her sister, Miss Lily Brown, who in turn memorized the song in Tawas City c. 1910.

I was born and raised in Knoxville, a place you all know well
I was born and raised in Knoxville, among the flowery dell
I fell in love with a Knoxville girl, she had dark and roving eyes
I told her that I’d marry her if she would never deny

I told her that we would take a walk and view the meadows gay
And perhaps we would have a pleasant talk and appoint our wedding day
We walked quite easily till we came to level ground
I drew a club from out the brush and knocked this fair maid down

She fell upon her bended knees, “O Lord, have mercy,” she cried
“O Willie dear, don’t murder me here, for I’m not prepared to die”
I paid no attention to what she said but beat her all the more
Until the ground which she lay on was in a bloody gore

I took her by her curly locks; I dragged her round and round
I threw her into the water that ran through Knoxville town
“Lie there, lie there, lie there, you Knoxville girl, my bride you never shall be
Lie there, lie there, you Knoxville girl, you never will be tied to me

I went into my mother’s house about twelve o’clock at night
Mother being worried, woke up in a dreadful fright
O Willie dear, how came [sic] there are blood stains on your clothes?”
And then in a lie I replied, “Been a-bleeding at the nose”

I called for me a handkerchief to bind my aching head
I called for me a candle to light my way to bed
About three weeks or later this Knoxville girl was found
A-floating on that water that flows through Knoxville town

Her sister swore my life away; she swore without a doubt
That I was the very lad that led her sister out
They locked me up on suspicion; they locked me up in jail
For one or two or three hours, and no one to go my bail