Title
Young Charlotte
Alternate Titles: Fair Charlotte; Frozen Charlotte
Subject
Folk songs, English -- New York (State) -- Adirondack Mountains Region
Folk songs, English -- Minnesota
Ballads, English
Description
First Line: Young Charlotte lived by the mountain side in a wild and lonely spot
Summary: Pretty Charlotte lives with her parents in a remote house. Charlie comes to take her to a ball on a cold night but she refuses to dress properly so as not to be seen "muffled up." En route, she complains of the cold, but then says "I'm growing warmer now." When they arrive at the dance, Charlie finds her frozen to death. He brings her corpse back to her parents' house and dies of grief himself.
Notes from Franz Rickaby's 1923 transcription of M.C. Dean: "Learned from his mother in NY."
Traditional Ballad Index Page: http://www.fresnostate.edu/folklore/ballads/LG17.html
Creator
Michael Cassius Dean
Source
Robert Winslow Gordon Cylinder Collection (AFC 1928/002) http://lccn.loc.gov/2009655325; Archive of Folk Culture; American Folklife Center; Library of Congress
Publisher
Brian T. Miller
Date
Sep. 1924
Contributor
Robert Winslow Gordon
Rights
Duplication of sound recordings may be governed by copyright and other restrictions.
Relation
Full song text taken from M.C. Dean's 1922 self-published songster The Flying Cloud And 150 Other Old Time Poems and Ballads: A Collection of Old Irish Songs, Songs of the Sea and Great Lakes, The Big Pine Woods, The Prize Ring and Others
Format
mp3
Language
en-US
Type
Music Recording
Identifier
Roud #260
Laws G17
AFS Preservation Reel: AFS 19011A
Gordon Cylinder Record No.: G84
AFS Item No.: Misc. 139
Coverage
St. Lawrence County, New York; Minnesota
Original Format
Wax Cylinder
Duration
1:09
Bit Rate/Frequency
128 kbps
Transcription
YOUNG CHARLOTTE.
Young Charlotte lived by the mountain side in a wild and lonely spot,
No dwelling there for three miles round except her father’s cot;
And still on many a wintry night young swains would gather there,
For her father kept a social board and she was young and fair.
Her father loved to see her dressed as fine as a city belle,
For she was the only child he had and he loved his daughter well;
It is New Year’s Eve, the sun is down, why beam her longing eyes,
Out at the frosty window for to see the sleighs go by?
At a village inn fifteen miles off there is a merry ball tonight,
The air is cold and piercing, but her heart beats warm and light,
Yet restless beams her longing eyes till a well known sound she hears,
When dashing up to the cottage door young Charlie’s sleigh appears.
“Oh, daughter dear,” the mother cries, “This blanket around you fold,
It is a dreadful night, you know and you’ll catch your death of cold.”
“Oh, nay, oh, nay!” fair Charlotte said, and she laughed like a gypsy queen,
“To ride in blankets muffled up I never shall be seen.
“My silken cloak is warm enough, you know it is lined throughout,
Besides I have a silken shawl to tie my neck about.”
Her bonnet and her gloves were on, she jumped into the sleigh,
And away they rode by the mountainside and over the hills away.
There is life in the sound of the merry bells as o’er the hills they go,
What a creaking doth the runners make as they bite the frozen snow,
With muffled face all silently, five cold long miles they passed,
When Charlie in a few frozen words the silence broke at last.
“Such a night as this I never knew, the reins I scarce can hold,”
When Charlotte said in a feeble voice, “I am exceeding cold.”
He cracked his whip and hurried his steeds more swiftly than before,
Until at length five other miles they quickly did pass o’er.
At length said Charles, “How fast the ice is gathering on my brow,”
Young Charlotte said in a feeble voice, “I am growing warmer now,”
Still on they glide through the frosty air and in the cold starlight,
Until at length the village inn and ball-room were in sight.
They reached the place and Charles jumped out and held his hands for her,
“Why sit you there like a monument, have you no power to stir?”
He asked her once, he asked her twice, she answered not a word,
He asked her for her hand again, and yet she never stirred.
He took her hands within his own—oh, God, they were cold as stone,
He tore the mantle from her brow, the cold stars on her shone;
Then quickly to the lighted hall her lifeless form he bore,
Young Charlotte was a frozen corpse and never spoke no more.
He sat himself down by her side, and the bitter tears did flow,
He said, “My dear intended bride, you no more will sorrow know,”
He threw his arms around her neck and kissed her marble brow,
And his thoughts went back to the place where she said, “I am growing warmer now.”
He put the corpse into the sleigh and quickly hurried home,
And when he reached the cottage door, oh, how her parents mourned!
They mourned for the loss of their daughter dear, and young Charlie mourned for his bride.
He mourned until his heart did break and they slumber side by side.
Young Charlotte lived by the mountain side in a wild and lonely spot,
No dwelling there for three miles round except her father’s cot;
And still on many a wintry night young swains would gather there,
For her father kept a social board and she was young and fair.
Her father loved to see her dressed as fine as a city belle,
For she was the only child he had and he loved his daughter well;
It is New Year’s Eve, the sun is down, why beam her longing eyes,
Out at the frosty window for to see the sleighs go by?
At a village inn fifteen miles off there is a merry ball tonight,
The air is cold and piercing, but her heart beats warm and light,
Yet restless beams her longing eyes till a well known sound she hears,
When dashing up to the cottage door young Charlie’s sleigh appears.
“Oh, daughter dear,” the mother cries, “This blanket around you fold,
It is a dreadful night, you know and you’ll catch your death of cold.”
“Oh, nay, oh, nay!” fair Charlotte said, and she laughed like a gypsy queen,
“To ride in blankets muffled up I never shall be seen.
“My silken cloak is warm enough, you know it is lined throughout,
Besides I have a silken shawl to tie my neck about.”
Her bonnet and her gloves were on, she jumped into the sleigh,
And away they rode by the mountainside and over the hills away.
There is life in the sound of the merry bells as o’er the hills they go,
What a creaking doth the runners make as they bite the frozen snow,
With muffled face all silently, five cold long miles they passed,
When Charlie in a few frozen words the silence broke at last.
“Such a night as this I never knew, the reins I scarce can hold,”
When Charlotte said in a feeble voice, “I am exceeding cold.”
He cracked his whip and hurried his steeds more swiftly than before,
Until at length five other miles they quickly did pass o’er.
At length said Charles, “How fast the ice is gathering on my brow,”
Young Charlotte said in a feeble voice, “I am growing warmer now,”
Still on they glide through the frosty air and in the cold starlight,
Until at length the village inn and ball-room were in sight.
They reached the place and Charles jumped out and held his hands for her,
“Why sit you there like a monument, have you no power to stir?”
He asked her once, he asked her twice, she answered not a word,
He asked her for her hand again, and yet she never stirred.
He took her hands within his own—oh, God, they were cold as stone,
He tore the mantle from her brow, the cold stars on her shone;
Then quickly to the lighted hall her lifeless form he bore,
Young Charlotte was a frozen corpse and never spoke no more.
He sat himself down by her side, and the bitter tears did flow,
He said, “My dear intended bride, you no more will sorrow know,”
He threw his arms around her neck and kissed her marble brow,
And his thoughts went back to the place where she said, “I am growing warmer now.”
He put the corpse into the sleigh and quickly hurried home,
And when he reached the cottage door, oh, how her parents mourned!
They mourned for the loss of their daughter dear, and young Charlie mourned for his bride.
He mourned until his heart did break and they slumber side by side.