Often when I first talk to people they don’t know about magic at all or they think that is something foreign and exotic-not something you can find in the good old USA. I never tire of talking about the African American and Native American influences on our own homegrown magical traditions, but there is another strong streak running through American magic-it comes to us from the Appalachian mountains by way of England, Scotland, and Ireland. Just as the material compiled by Harry Hyatt details the folk traditions of the Deep South, the Child Ballads collect wonderful story songs that are full of weird and wonderous fairy stories and magical charms.
Ever since hearing about Anais Mitchelle’s new album on Terri Windling’s fantastic mythic arts blog Myth and Moor I have been obsessed with the Child Ballads. These were compiled in the late 1800’s by Francis James Child and are a collection of ballads mostly from England and Scotland that were carried to American by the immigrants that settled in Appalachia.
One of my favorite ballads is Willie’s Lady, Child Ballad #6-the lyrics are as follows:
King Willie he sailed over the raging foam
He’s wooed a wife and he’s brought her home
He’s brought her home all against his mother’s will
His mother wrought her a wicked spell
And a wicked spell she’s laid on her
She’d be with child for long and many’s the year
But the child she would never bear
And in her bower she lies in pain
King Willie by her bedside he does stand
As down his cheeks salten tears do run
King Willie back to his mother he did run
And he’s gone there as a begging son
Says, “My true love has this fine noble steed
The likes of which you have never seen”
“And at every part of this horse’s mane
There’s hanging fifty silver bells and ten
Hanging fifty bells and ten”
“This goodly gift shall be your own
If back to my own true love you’ll turn again
So she might bear her baby son”Oh, of the child she’ll never lighter be
And of my curse she will ne’er be free
But she will die and she will turn to clay
And you will wed with another maid”
And sighing says this weary man
As back to his own true love he’s gone again
“I wish my life was at an end”
King Willie back to his mother he did run
And he’s gone there as a begging son
Says, “My true love has this fine golden girdle
Set with jewels all about the middle”
“And at every part of this girdle’s hem
There’s hanging fifty silver bells and ten
Hanging fifty bells and ten”
“This goodly gift shall be your own
If back to my own true love you’ll turn again
So she might bear her baby son”
“Oh, of the child she’ll never lighter be
And of my curse she will ne’er be free
But she will die and she will turn to clay
And you will wed with another maid”
And sighing says this weary man
As back to his own true love he’s gone again
“I wish my life was at an end”
Then up and spoke his noble queen
And she has told King Willie of a plan
How she might bear her baby son
Says,“You must go get you down to the marketplace
And you must buy a ball of wax
And you must shape it as a babe that is to nurse
And you must make two eyes of glass”
“Ask your mother to the christening day
And you must stand there close as you can be
So you might hear what she does say”
King Willie he’s gone down to the marketplace
And he has bought a ball of wax
And he has shaped it as a babe that is to nurse
And he has made two eyes of glass
He asked his mother to the christening daynd he has stood there close as he could be
So he might hear what she did say
And how she spat and how she swore
She spied the babe where no babe could be before
She spied the babe where none could be before
Says, “Who was it who undid the nine witch knots
Braided in amongst this lady’s locks?
And who was it who the leather shoe untied
From the left foot of his wedded bride?”
“And who was it split the silken thread
The spider stretched all beneath this lady’s bed?
The spider stretched all beneath her bed”
And it was Willie who undid the nine witch knots
Braided in amongst his lady’s locks
And it was Willie who the leather shoe untied
From the left foot of his wedded bride
And it was Willie split the silken thread
The spider stretched all beneath his lady’s bed
The spider stretched all beneath her bed
And she has born him a baby son
And great are the blessings that be them upon
This issue is one that I get a lot of questions about today-the relationship between a mother and daughter in law. Fairytales are rife with tales of daughters in law being cursed by their husband’s mothers (note to self: do not be a creepy mother in law).
The ballad details how to bind up a woman’s womb-with 9 witchknots in her hair, by keeping her left shoe bound upon her foot (a classic nod to the power of the foot and the left side of the body of course being associated with women and women’s mysteries), tying a thread beneath the daughter’s bed, and in another version of the ballad there is also the herb woodbine (or woodbind) hanging between Willie’s bed chamber and that of his wife.
Of course the remedy to such a cruel working is to create a child of wax (a poppet) where no child should be, and then to undo all the knots that have been tied.
Interestingly, this particular ballad most likely is not English or Scottish in origin, it is most likely Scandinavian.
