Miscellaneous, The Story of "Charlotte"

The Story of "Charlotte"

A Pathetic and Beautiful Song sung Fifty Years Ago

Bainbridge Republican, July 18, 1907

 

Through the courtesy of our townsman, Mr. Charles R. Briggs, we are able to give the pathetic story of "Young Charlotte" as written and sung over fifty years ago.  At that time this song was very popular.  It was written from facts and the story is true.  The older people remember it well.  The copy which we are permitted to use was made May 1st, 1856, by Mr. Harvey Wright for Mr. Charles R. Briggs' aunt, May L. Briggs, who resided in Bloomville, Delaware county, and was a beautiful singer.  The Republican is endeavoring to ascertain who the real Charlotte was and where the scene of the incident is located.  The story is as follows:

 

Young Charlotte lived by the mountain side,

In a wild and lonely spot.

No dwellings there for three miles round,

Except her father's cot.

 

And yet on many a winter's night,

Young swains they gathered there.

Her father kept a social board,

And she was very fair.

 

Her father loved to see her dressed

As gay as a city belle,

For she was the only child he had,

He loved his daughter well.

 

T'was New Year's eve, the sun was down;  

Why beamed her restless eye?

Then she to the frozen windows went

To see the sleighs pass by.

 

How restless beamed her wandering eye,

When his well known voice she heard;

Then dashing up to the cottage door,

Young Charles' sleigh appeared.

 

At a village inn, fifteen miles off,

There's a merry ball to night;

But the air is freezing cold as death,

Yet her heart is warm and light.

 

Her mother cried, "Oh daughter, dear!

This blanket round you fold,

For it's a dreadful night abroad,

You'll catch your death a cold."

 

"Oh no! Oh no!" Young Charlotte,

And laughed like a gypsie queen,

"To ride in a blanket muffled up,

I never could be seen."

 

My silken cloak is enough for me,

You know it's lined throughout;

Besides I have a satin shawl,

To tie my neck about."

 

Her bonnet and her shawl was on,

She jumped into the sleigh,

And away they rode to the mountainside,

And o'er the hills away.

 

There's music in the sound of bells,

As o'er the hills they go,

What screaking does the runners make

As they leave the drifting snow.

 

And away they rode and silently,

'Till five long miles they passed.

At length Charles in frozen words

The silence broke at last.

 

"Such a night I never knew,

The reins I scarce can hold."

Then Charlotte said, in these few words,

"I am exceeding cold."

 

"How fast," said Charles, "the frozen ice

Is gathering on my brow."

When Charlotte said in feeble voice,

"I'm growing warmer now."

 

And away they rode by the mountainside,

And in the calm starlight,

Until at length the village inn

And the ball room was in sight.

 

They rode to the door and Charles jumped out,

He gave his hand to her.

"Why sit there like a monument,

That hath no power to stir"

 

He asked her once, he asked her twice,

But still she never stirred;

He asked  her for her hand again,

But still she never moved.

 

He took her hand in his, "Oh God!"

T'was cold and hard as stone.

He tore her mantle from her breast,

While the bright stars on her shone.

 

Then quickly to the lightened hall,

Her lifeless corpse he bore,

Young Charlotte was a lifeless corpse,

And never spoke no more.

 

T'was there he sat down by her side,

While the bitter tears did flow,

Said he, "My young and blooming bride,

You never more shall know.

 

He twined his arms around her neck,

And kissed her marble brow.

And his thoughts went back to where she said,

"I'm growing warmer now."

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W.K. McNeil writes on the ballad "Schaladi" in his Southern Folk Ballads, vol. II (August House, 1998, pp. 99-100) as follows:

....There has been much discussion about the authorship of this ballad, .... Most authorities, however, now agree that it was the work of Seba Smith (1792-1868), a Maine native.   Smith read a story published in 1831 about a Charlotte J--who was found dead in her "bower," all dressed for a ball. That was the source for the heroine's name but the incident that inspired the song was a story that appeared in the February 8, 1840, issue of the New York Observer. Titled "A Corpse Going to a Ball," the article concerned an unnamed young lady who froze to death on January 1, 1840, while on her way to a dance. Smith's ballad, also titled "A Corpse Going to a Ball," appeared in the December 28, 1843, issue of The Rover. From there it went on to widespread popularity.

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A Corpse Going to a Ball

Long-Islander, Huntington, NY

Feb. 14, 1840

 

You recollect the first day of January, 1840.  It was a bitter cold day.  It was cold as far south as the city of New York, and up here in the country where I am writing it was terrible severe.  You could not ride far against the wind without being exposed to freezing.  I have heard of two cases of death by cold on that day in this region, and of another case in which the sufferer was saved by great exertion, when on the point of perishing.  The night of that day was to be observed, as is usual here, by a New Year's ball.  Invitations had been extended for many miles around, and a great gathering of the young and gay, and thoughtless was expected.  Extensive preparations had been made for an evening of merriment and glee, and merry  hearts beat quickly in anticipation of pleasures of the scene.  None was happier in the thought of coming joy than Miss ----, who took her seat in the sleigh by the side of her partner for the evening, and set out for a ride of some twenty miles to join the dance.  She was young and gay, and her charms of youth and beauty never were lovelier than when dressed for that New Year's ball.  Of course too thinly clad for the season and especially for that dreadful day, she had not gone far before she complained of being cold, very cold; but their anxiety to reach the end of their ride in time to be present at the opening of the dance, induced them to hurry onward without stopping by the way.  Not long after this complaining, she said that she felt perfectly comfortable, was now quite warm and that there was no necessity of delay on her account.  They reached, at length, the house where the company were gathering; the young man leaped from the sleigh, and extended his hand to assist her out, but she did not offer hers;  he spoke to her, but she answered not;  she was dead--stone dead--frozen stiff--a corpse on the way to a ball--Correspondent of the New York Observer.