More on Bluegrass ballads, because Gideon demands it — and because I heard "The Knoxville Girl" on the radio last night, and was reminded that Gid's musical education was still incomplete

I wrote recently about a modern bluegrass song telling of the wrongful killing of a loyal hound, and said that it incorporated the basic violent, bloody themes that run through Appalachian music. Gideon didn’t seem impressed, but I know he’s longing to be persuaded, so let’s try again, this one with the Louvin Brothers’ performance of Knoxville Girl. Before you blame American culture for these songs, know that the 17th and 18th century Appalachian settlers came from Ireland, Scotland and northern England, and brought the music and songs of those regions with them. Knoxville Girl’s heritage is typical of the genre:

It is derived from the 19th-century Irish ballad "The Wexford Girl", itself derived from the earlier English ballad "The Bloody Miller or Hanged I Shall Be" about a murder, in 1683, at Hogstow Mill, 12 miles south of Shrewsbury. This ballad was collected by Samuel Pepys, who wrote about the murder of Anne Nichols by the Mill's apprentice Francis Cooper. Other versions are known as the "Waxweed Girl", "The Wexford Murder". These are in turn derived from an Elizabethan era poem or broadside ballad, "The Cruel Miller".

Possibly modelled on the 17th-century broadside William Grismond's Downfall, or A Lamentable Murther by him Committed at Lainterdine in the county of Hereford on March 12, 1650: Together with his lamentation., sometimes known as The Bloody Miller.

Here are its uplifting lyrics, suitable for grades K and up — say what you will about our modern age, we have nothing on our ancestors’ taste for bloodthirsty entertainment.

I met a little girl in Knoxville, a town we all know well
And every Sunday evening, out in her home, I'd dwell
We went to take an evening walk about a mile from town
I picked a stick up off the ground and knocked that fair girl down

She fell down on her bended knees, for mercy she did cry
"Oh Willy dear, don't kill me here, I'm unprepared to die"
She never spoke another word, I only beat her more
Until the ground around me within her blood did flow

I took her by her golden curls and I drug her round and around
Throwing her into the river that flows through Knoxville town
Go down, go down, you Knoxville girl with the dark and rolling eyes
Go down, go down, you Knoxville girl, you can never be my bride

I started back to Knoxville, got there about midnight
My mother, she was worried and woke up in a fright
Saying "dear son, what have you done to bloody your clothes so?"
I told my anxious mother I was bleeding at my nose

I called for me a candle to light myself to bed
I called for me a handkerchief to bind my aching head
Rolled and tumbled the whole night through, as troubles was for me
Like flames of hell around my bed and in my eyes could see

They carried me down to Knoxville and put me in a cell
My friends all tried to get me out but none could go my bail
I'm here to waste my life away down in this dirty old jail
Because I murdered that Knoxville girl, the girl I loved so well