George Collins

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I learned this Child Ballad (No 85/42) from the singing of Shirley Collins. It was collected from Enos White in Hampshire by Bob Copper.

There are several elements here which alert us to the supernatural nature of the tale:

It would seem that George Collins was a womaniser who met his doom when one of his paramours cast a death spell on him.

The girl at the stream may be an undine - a water-fairy - who has been courted by George Collins. However, it is thought that he is soon to marry a mortal girl, and the so the fairy takes her revenge with a spell-casting kiss.

The tale is found throughout Europe (Italy, Spain, Scandinavia, Germany, France, etc).

"Clerk Colvill" (Child No 42) and "Lady Alice" (Child No 85) are variants, as is the 12th century German poem "The Knight of Staufenberg" and the french "Le Roi Renaud".

There are many variants, and when they are compared the story becomes more clear. It seems possible that each of these may be fragments of a longer ballad.

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George Collins walked out one May morning
When May was all in bloom.
And there he spied a fair pretty maid
A-washing her marble stone.

She whooped, she hollo'ed, she highered her voice
She waved up her lily white hand
Come hither to me George Collins she said
For your life shall not last you long

He stepped up to the broad water side
And over the river sprang he.
He took her by the middle so small
And kissed her red rosy cheeks

George Collins rode home to his father's own gate
Rise mother and make my bed
And I will trouble my dear sister
For a napkin to tie around my head.

And if I die this very same night
As I suppose I shall
Then bury me under the marble stone
That lies by fair Eleanors wall

Fair Eleanor sat in her castle so fine
Weaving the silken skein
She spied the fairest corpse a-coming
That ever the sun shone on

She called unto her Irish maid
Whose is this coffin so fine?'
This is George Collins corpse a-coming
That once was a true love of thine

Come put him down my six pretty maids
And open his coffin so fine
That I may kiss those lilywhite lips
For ten thousand times they've kissed mine

Now go upstairs and fetch the sheet
That's wove with the silver twine
And lay it over George Collins's head
Tomorrow shall lay over mine

The news was carried to London town
And written on London gate
That six pretty maids died all in one night
And all for George Collins's sake

George Collins came home last Friday night
And there he take sick and died;
And when Mrs. Collins heard George was dead,
She wrung her hands and cried

Mary in the hallway, sewing her silk,
She's sewing her silk so fine,
And when she heard that George were dead,
She threw her sewing aside.

She followed him up, she followed him down,
She follow-ed him to his grave,
And there all on her bended knee
She wept, she mourned, she prayed.

Hush up, dear daughter, don't take it so hard,
There's more pretty hoys than George.
There's more pretty boys all standing around,
But none so dear as George.

Look away, look away, that lonesome dove
That sails from pine to pine;
It's mourning for it's own true love
Just like I mourn for mine.

Set down the coffin, Pick up the lid,
And give me a comb so fine,
And let me comb his cold, wavy hair,
For I know he'll never comb mine.

Set down the coffin, lift up tbe lid,
Lay back the sheetings so fine,
And let me kiss his cold, sweet lips,
For I know he'll never kiss mine.

Here is yet another version:

George Collins rode out one cold winter night.
He rode through the snow so white
When George Collins returned home again
He was taken down sick and he died.

His little Alice was in her room
Sewing on her silk so fine
When she heard her George was dead
She laid all her silk aside.

She sobbed, she sighed, she mourned and cried
When she entered the chamber of death
George, oh George, you're all my heart.
Now I have nothing left.

Her mother said, Alice, don't weep, don't you mourn
There's other young men just as fine.
Yes, Mother, I know there's other young men,
But none can ever be mine.

The golden sun sinking in the west
Just at the close of the day.
There in his last place of rest
They laid her George away.

Colin came down from his fields one day
Trees and flowers were in bloom-Oh
And there he spied his own fair Ellen
She was washing a white marble stone-Oh

(text lost here... Colin goes down to the sea, where he spies a Silkie or a mermaid ...)

He called, he cried, then he changed his mind.
She called, and waved her hand-Oh
Here, come here, young Colin my dear
Your life is near at hand-Oh

He clasped around her slender waist,
Kissed both cheek and chin
Till the stars from heaven came a-tumblin' down
To the place where young Colin jumped in.

He ran till he came to his father's house,
He knocked on his father's door,
Said "Father, oh father, come let me in,
Come let me in once more."

"If I should die this very night
As I fear in my heart I will,
Bury me under that while marble stone
At the foot of fair Ellen's hill."

Fair Ellen sat in her cottage door
Sewin on silk so fine.
When there she spied his coffin a-comin
As far as her eyes could shine.

She ordered that coffin be opened right there
She gazed on his cold clay form
She took the last kiss from his cold clay lips
So often they'd kissed her before

She ordered her curtains be brought right there
And trimmed them in silk so fine
Said, "Today they'll week on young Colin's grave,
Tomorrow they'll grieve on mine."

And the news went 'round thru Dublin town
Twas printed on Dablin's gate
Six pretty fair maids did die last night
And twas for young Colin's fate.   

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