This transcript was so long that it needed it's own page. It's not 100% accurate, but it's like... 98%? probably? If you see any glaring errors, hit me up! Enjoy!

DON COSBY:

See where that car is way down there?

 

MATT:

The one that just crested the hill?

 

DON COSBY:

Yeah. They said that people come from miles around for the day of the funeral and one of the comments was made – truck disappears there over the hill, you drop down into the Bottoms. In other words the river is just on the other side of that- down, that-- The morning of the funeral, wagons were tied up with horses waiting at the wagon all the way to where the road drops into the bottoms. So if you can imagine: Horse and buggies, bumper-to-bumper, so to speak, all the way down there and they were clear down this road... you know...

 

MATT:

Like a modern-day traffic jam. Just to see the funeral

 

DON COSBY:

Uh huh.

 

MATT:

Wow

 

The crowd sang “In the Sweet By and By as the bodies of the old woman, the young couple, and the two children were laid in their graves. “

 

[IN THE SWEET BY AND BY]

 

John Baldwin recalled that it was as the funeral was dying down that the Sheriff informed him and Bud Stone that the 11-year-old survivor Ethel was about to wake up from her days-long coma at the Swanegans. Rex Meyers writes that this event had likely been mythologized, but legend has it they rushed over to find Ethel awake and attempting to speak, but no sound could be heard. The house had been full of family and friends since the murders, each taking turns in Ethel's room to watch over her. This night, during dinner, it happened to be Bud Stone's turn. After a short while, Bud came out, head down. “Ethel just died.” he announced. The following day she was laid in a sixth grave near her family.

 

The investigation followed quickly, as did the formation of posses full of locals hungry to avenge the deaths of the neighbors and friends. At the same time, the story began to captivate all of America as it spread around in newspapers across the country. Every small detail that emerged sparked news stories. When a man in Terra Haute was found wearing a shirt covered in blood and mistakenly accused and then released. When Ada Wratten's sister Alcy Jane McCafferty and her husband publicly offered a $1,000 reward for any information leading to the arrest of the killers. When a small campsite was found in the woods in Daviess county, believed by a roving pack of vigilantes to belong to the murderers. When those campers turned out to be two traveling homeless men who had no knowledge of the crimes at all. When the murder weapons, a small hand-ax and a 20-inch corn knife was discovered still on the Wratten property. When a pack of blood-hounds were brought in to hunt down the killer. That night, a large group gathered to follow the dogs, including Bud Stone. Both times the dogs jumped at Bud he treated them playfully and helped the men follow them halfway to his own house before they turned and wandered down to the river.

 

It was shortly after this that, according to Meyers and Baldwin, a black curtained carriage approached the Sheriff outside of the Wrattens' former house. A woman in heavy black veils with gloved hands beckoned him into the carriage where he stayed for half an hour, and after, without a word, rushed back to the city.

 

The woman was Cecilia Stone. See, the night of the murders, around midnight, her husband left the house, complaining of a toothache. He returned hours later, his clothes covered in blood. When she asked him, Bud said that the dentist had pulled his tooth and everything was fine. But in the weeks since, she had grown more and more suspicious of her husband. She even confided this in a friend who reported that afterward she had been threatened by Bud to keep her mouth shut. When Bud was arrested that day, he confessed.

 

DON COSBY:

--who could have possibly done this. And they immediately tried to find out what had happened and he began to tell that a bunch of guys – a gang – got together and they were the ones that done it. You know? That was what Bud Stone told the authorities at the beginning.

 

Stone's story was this: Seven men had been planning a string of robberies for months, organized by a man named Grandison Cosby. A known criminal and rowdy dude around town.

 

DON COSBY:

My grandfather, his name was Ziba Cosby and his brother was Grandison. And they were a couple rowdies. I mean, they... I interviewed Mrs. Eisnoggle who lived out on Troy road and she had told my oldest brother that “You'd be just as well off not to know some of the things about your grandpa and his brother. Because they'd come by my house regularly hoopin' and a-hollerin' and ridin' horseback, wavin' their hats in the air. And they were really-- they drank like, anything they could get their hands on.

 

He had beat a previous murder charge two years earlier, and been jailed once for burning a barn and attempting to bribe a jury. The newspapers described him as “A BAD MAN”.

 

DON COSBY:

We just didn't talk about it over the kitchen table, you know? But at any rate, she told me that they were really – anything went. They drank all the time and your great-granddad couldn't do nothing with 'em. And if anything happened in that part of the county – they'd deny it – but they were the first names that always come up. “It probably was the Cosby Boys”

 

Later, when Martin Yarborough would be brought to the jail he would confront Bud about his story. Bud would ask him if he remembered trying to recruit him into the gang and Yarborough would say “I was asked but I don't need to rob anyone to make my living.” That had led some people to believe this part of the story. A string of robberies had been planned by a gang of people around town, and Elizabeth Wratten was on the list because of her wealth.

 

The night of the robbery, Bud claimed, William Kays had arranged them all to meet at a nearby oak tree. Kays himself had a record of partaking in petty crimes, and was a recent employee of Denson Wratten's and would know about his mother's fortunes. At that time, his brother John Kays was serving a life sentence for murder, which, back then, was a reason to cast doubt upon his own innocence. This was an era where “its in the blood” was an accepted theory in criminology. Kays, along with Cosby claimed innocence, by the way and would maintain this for the entirety of their lives. Legend has it that at Cosby's death bed decades later, a crowd gathered, waiting for a death-bed confession and never got one. For whatever that says.

 

Bud claimed to have arrived late, after the crimes had taken place. He couldn't remember whether Grandison Cosby was there, which is worth noting, as a Washington saloon owner had a clear memory of seeing Cosby wandering around the city drunk that night around midnight, and then seeing him passed out in a barn later. So while there was still suspicion that Cosby was involved in the planning, it was generally accepted that he hadn't been present. Anyway, as Bud arrived, he claimed he spoke to Alonzo Williams, who told him that the family had fought and had to be killed. Also that they couldn't find any money. Let's stop here for a second and remember that the investigators had found the money fairly quickly. It was in the fourth of four drawers in a dresser in Elizabeth Wratten's room. The only one that hadn't been opened and was slightly jammed. Also, it was reported in newspapers later, before Bud's arrest, that his father, a local Justice of the Peace named Elias Stone had also found $19 dollars in a box in that room. I think it's worth questioning whether it's plausible that between 5 and 7 men working together couldn't find two barely hidden stashes of money when robbery was their entire motive. Two of which were familiar with the home.

 

Stone's story of the crime itself was that Alonzo Williams and William Kays stood guard that night. When arrested, Alonzo claimed innocence, stating he had been home all night and further that he had participated in several posses looking for the killer after the crime. But then, it's worth noting, so did Bud. It's also worth noting that both Kays and Williams were already in custody for about two weeks before they were implicated in Bud's confession. Also arrested two weeks earlier was Oscar Brown, who was the first one to have a confirmed alibi, the first one to be released, and while he was named by Bud Stone, didn't seem to have a role in Bud's story. That's why I'm shoving his name in here randomly.

 

Gibson Clark, according to Bud, was the one who knocked on the door and dealt the first killing blows to Ada Wratten, her eldest daughter and her ailing husband. Gibson Clark, it was said, had produced an alibi for that night. His whereabouts were known and it was believed by law enforcement that he wasn't there. John White and Martin Yarborough, according to Bud, killed the remaining Wrattens in the main part of house. John White also was also eventually released because of an alibi, according to newspapers. Yarborough never produced an alibi, but his family is written to have tearfully plead his innocence to the court and the media. And remember, this was the one who admitted to knowing about a gang of robbers to Bud Stone in the jail. Also, weirdly, it's been written that he had just moved into the county that exact same day. He clearly knew a lot of the players here, so that might not mean much, but... it's there...

 

And, as another note, when Grandison Cosby, Gibson Clark, and John White were arrested and being transported to the jail, they were attacked by a mob of vigilantes and almost lynched. The newspapers then started begging people to wait and let the gears of justice run their course, casting doubt on Bud's story to keep the accused safe from the mobs.

 

Next, Bud claimed that Alonzo Williams and William Kays left their spot on the porch to kick in the window of Elizabeth Wratten's annex room. They told Bud she fought like a tiger. Some people had already been suspicious of Lon because of scratches on his face, which this would account for.

 

But then, angry at Bud for arriving late, he claimed that the group threw him to the ground, rolled him in blood, and wiped their bloody weapons on his clothes. The clothes, which had been recovered after the confession, appeared to have blood in spots and spatter patterns, according to newspapers as they cast doubt on this story, by the way. The gang then instructed Bud to come back and “discover” the bodies the next morning.

 

Now this part is wild. Not only because it's totally crazy, almost cartoonish thing for a gang of criminals to do. Roll a man around in blood as a cruel prank. And then instructing him to discover the bodies the next day is not a plan that a gang of seasoned criminals would think up. Making sure the bodies were discovered the next morning puts an exact date and time on the murders, causing all of them to have to come up with alibis. Plus, as was noted by newspapers at the time, the story completely exonerates Bud himself. He was aware of their intent to rob the family but showed up after the killings and thus was not legally culpable. The one person who was covered in blood has a plausible and ridiculous story for how he's not to blame. Except. For the death of Ethel Wratten.

 

It was during this confession, in front of a grand jury, that he was asked about the death of the surviving 11-year-old girl. He confessed to strangling her to death, for fear that she'd wake up and tell the story of what happened that night. Which is odd, given that by Bud's account, she wouldn't have implicated him at all. But this part of the story remains constant from here on out. There are no competing accounts of how young Ethel died. She was either suffocated or strangled by Bud Stone.

 

A newspaper I have that is either the Washington Gazette or the Daviess County Democrat – it's hard to tell, but both of those newspapers are the main sources for this story. Reporters of both were present for a lot of these arrests, confessions, and trials. Supposedly they had a fiery rivalry at this time too, accusing each other of fabricating details and irresponsible reporting, plus attacking each other's politics. And interestingly, these are the main sources for Rex Myers, a late historian who is the most extensive chronicler of Daviess County. To the point where he straight up lifts passages word-for-word from these articles and a Detective Magazine I'll tell you about later, including poetic phrasing and stuff. Anyway, one of those papers wrote “It is a generally accepted fact that Budd Stone's story is made up of whole cloth and is a tissue of lies from beginning to end.” They do not write newspapers like that any more.

 

Now, I'll return to the question of Bud's innocence or guilt later, because I've thought a lot about it, but that was the bulk of his first confession and the things that help confirm or cast doubt on it. People had been assuming for a while that this was the work of several men. Largely because they didn't believe one man could successfully murder an entire family of 6.

 

And several days after his first confession, this is exactly what Bud Stone claimed. Talking to the prosecuting attorney, Bud claimed sole responsibility for the murders. He walked them through the killings. How he arrived at the house around midnight. How he stalked around the house, making sure the family was alone. How he knocked on the door and Ada Cross Wratten answered. How he told her of his toothache and she turned to fetch him her bottle of Hamlin's Wizard Oil when he brought his corn-knife down on her skull. How the sickly father, Hillard Denson Wratten tried to defend himself with his arms but was struck down in bed. How the children awoke and demanded to know what their cousin was doing in the house and how he struck them down one-by-one. First Ethel, then Stella, then little Henry. How he grabbed a lamp to light the way to Grandma Wratten's room when he heard Ada groaning on the floor. How he took a child-sized hand-axe and caved her head in. How he must have woken Elizabeth and she barricaded the door to her annex. How he kicked in the window and flung himself into the room. How she fought so viciously and lost. He had gone back to the main house, searching for money and found Denson gasping for air and how he brought his ax down again, ending his life. He searched the house and found nothing when he returned to Elizabeth's room. It was then that the horror set in. The gravity of what he'd done and what it meant. He threw the lamp into the yard and ran, tripping over a pile of wood and lay in the grass for a while, crying. He hid his weapons in the woodpile and walked down to the stream, attempting to wash the blood off himself. Then back up the wooded hill to his home at 4am, where he kissed his sleeping children and tried to sleep.

 

There are some newspaper accounts here of this story leading the investigators to the murder weapons, but the Gazette had published an article nearly two weeks earlier detailing the weapons and their location. They had even exhumed the bodies of the poor Wratten family and compared the wounds to the two weapons and generally believed that the weapons fit the marks. The bodies were re-interred in Ebenezer Cemetery where they still lay today.

 

Stone made another confession, I should mention. His second time in front of the grand jury he refused to take sole responsibility and made a third confession. This time implicating Charles McCafferty and Robert Swanegan. Charles had been a suspect long before Bud was arrested, due to a bloody footprint found on a curtain sash that matched his boot. A large group of family and friends of he and the Wrattens, including Bud's own father, got together to pen and publish a letter on October 12th, pleading the courts of McCafferty's innocence and begging them to stop harassing him. Both men were questioned, but never arrested.

 

Stone recanted again to his wife, and during his trial admitted to having committed the murders by himself. Let's return to this question again... The question of whether Bud acted alone. There are a few ideas we haven't addressed yet. First, that while one man murdering 6 people seems implausible, one man murdering three children, an old woman, a sickly bed-ridden man, and a young woman who he took by surprise, is fully believable. And when you combine that with the fact that the wounds were found to match only two weapons, both of which could be wielded with one hand, it makes it even more plausible. Second, that Stone claimed to have grudges against all of the men who were supposedly in this gang of robbers. While he had claimed in his trial that he had no clue why he killed the Wrattens -- He thought they were good people and good neighbors, he said in court – he did explain his motives for making false accusations. According to John Baldwin, he told the Sheriff that the men he accused had laughed at him and he was hoping to get even with them. In a story I've been using as reference, co-authored by him, Bud had this to say:

 

“One of them called me a liar. He said that I had so many lies that they had started lodging in my neck” Stone pointed to a large wen about which he was super-sensitive.

“They all laughed at me and hurt my feelings,” Stone went on. “so I claimed that they helped me do the killing.”

“I still think it was a fine way to get even with them” he cackled, rubbing the quivering wen in his glee.

 

While this story reeks of embellishment, Don Cosby also told it this way to me.

 

DON COSBY:

They teased him all the time because of the cyst here on the side of his neck. And he craved attention – he liked to tell big, windy tales. And so they made fun of him and – one incident, he said “Well, a couple of those guys...” Clark and, uh-- White. He said “I was trying to go to town and they wouldn't let me through. Well they stopped my wagon and they blocked the road” and he said they wasn't gonna let him go, y'know? Anything to aggravate him. Anything to you know, get him to raise hell, you know. And so this was a way of him getting back. Anybody that had done anything wrong to him, that name was mentioned. And then of course, that was the reason they were all arrested...

 

That the group had been unkind to Stone. I think it's also worth mentioning here that the gang likely did meet, and likely did plan some kind of robbery, and several of them were already suspects when Bud made his first confession. Third, there is one detail that, to me, casts suspicion on Bud's account of having no accomplices. According to his wife, Cecilia, Bud had apparently been continually walking in and out of the house to the front yard all night. At one point, she heard him speaking to someone. When he came back in and she asked him about it, he claimed it was the dog. She also stated that she believes he was called outside before he left to, as he put it, go see the dentist. And fourth, if you're already of a mind that a group of people committed the crime, you couldn't find a better fall guy than the man in town who's known for telling lies, has an odd physical appearance, and a clear intellectual disability.

 

Just some food for thought. I think it's plausible that Bud acted alone. Unlikely that the most if not all of that gang were involved. And possible that there was at least one accomplice.

 

Either way, it was Bud alone who answered for the crimes. He was found guilty and sentenced to death. As he waited in jail for his execution, another tragedy struck his family as his oldest daughter, 15, was taken by tuberculosis. She was buried in December of 1893. In January of 1894 was the last time Bud Stone would see his family. In February he held his final interview. He cried, he broke out in hysterics, he repeated his confession that he was the sole murderer of the Wratten family and told the reporter that he wanted his father to know he would not die with a lie on his lips. And on February 15th, he was read his death warrant.

 

Newspapers all across the country reported on the hanging of James E. Stone, aka Bud. After a last supper of beef steak, pork sausage, egg, hominy, biscuits, baked potatoes, and sweet cakes he was sent to bed, woken up at 11pm, a noose placed around his neck, and the floor dropped from under him in front of an anxious crowd at 12:04 am. He was pronounced dead at 12:21 am, February 16th, 1894.

 

It was the last execution ever carried out in Daviess County, Indiana. Hanging would be replaced by electrocution within 20 years. 94 people would be executed in the state after that, the last in 2009. It's still legal in the state today, in 2020.

 

I've mentioned a bit about Bud's father, Squire Elias Stone.

 

DON COSBY:

You see Squire Stone, he was given the honorary title of “Squire.” He had the authority to marry. He could be a witness to any kind of documents. Just as a Justice of the Peace. It was said that the reason he was given this was because he donated the ground that Ebenezer Church was built upon, because it was right next door to where he lived. And then he gave them the cemetery, but then when it come down to it, Ebenezer refused to allow him to bury his own son in the cemetery.

 

This is where the Wrattens are buried. And Squire Stone himself. But the church refused to allow Bud to be buried there. So instead, he was buried about 300 yards away, on Stone property. Below a wild cherry tree, along the side of a road, just a few yards from where he stopped John Baldwin that morning to tell him something had happened to the Wrattens.

 

DON COSBY:

And this is where Squire – he lived. And the Cemetery, you can see it from here.

 

MATT:

Ooooh you can see it across the field

 

DON COSBY:

Yeah, he is – we'll go down there but – Just pull over for a just a minute. Anyway, this is 700 South. This is where the guy was on his way to town and he got here and Bud Stone came running down the road after him. So this is where it happened, I think. Squire Stone owned all of this ground here. And so then he, of course, wanted to bury Bud Stone after he had gotten hung and they were gonna bring him back and they denied him the use of the cemetery.

 

MATT:

So there's no marking anymore...

 

SARAH:

Mm-mm

 

MATT:

So he- so Bud Stone is just buried somewhere under the ground along this cornfield.

 

DON COSBY:

If you can imagine, from that pole there, back here there was a fence row through here. And Bud Stone's Dad set in that kitchen and guarded that.

 

MATT:

I think I'm locked in... Ok, thank you... Oof. Alright. I guess... standing on the spot where Bud Stone is likely buried. There's no marker or anything. It's just off the side of a cornfield. And – Ebenezer Cemetery where the Wrattens are buried is just – I mean – more than a stone's throw away, but I can see it clear as anything. Huh. It's just weird to see there's nothing here.

 

SARAH:

Yeah.

 

MATT:

And there's like a gas line here so how they avoided running into the grave, you know...

 

SARAH:

Right. Who knows what's still there...

 

MATT:

It's grisly to think about. Yeah, you're right...

 

His wife moved away, remarried. A stone marker was put up to mark Buds' grave but removed when the road was widened. Supposedly another family member had been buried near there as well and a marker for her death had been a popular attraction, being mistaken for his. Eventually the family got tired of the gawking and removed this stone as well. Now, there is nothing on the road to mark Bud's grave but dirt and grass and a few telephone poles.

 

The Wratten house and Bud Stone's house are both long gone. The former burned in a fire and the latter destroyed in the 1930's. And obviously everyone alive at the time has now passed, but the story still holds a strong fascination in a lot of people.

 

The story still holds a lot of meaning for people with a connection to it. The Daviess County Historical Society still gets information on a regular basis. Like the story of the corn knife, that infamous murder weapon and how it allegedly changed hands from the coroner to the wall of a jailhouse to end up in their collection where I had the grim experience of holding it in my own hand.

 

MATT:

Wow.

 

DON COSBY:

You know, today.. Especially people your age – not many people would be able to relate to the fact of how big a corn knife is. You know.. A lot of people – if you say “Corn Knife” they think about a pocket knife.

 

MATT:

Yeah... I imagined...

 

DON COSBY:

Well that's not a pocket knife.

 

MATT:

No!

 

SARAH:

And it's sharp! If you feel that side, it's sharp.

 

DON COSBY:

Brutal. It had to be brutal.

 

MATT:

Right... Intense...

 

It's kind of heavy but surprisingly maneuverable and I hate that I know that. The story also holds meaning for the descendants of the surviving branches of Wrattens and Stones. They gather on social media sites to share info or argue about details or remember the stories their grandparents told them.

 

The story had a life in 1930's detective magazines. Little pulp booklets with flashy covers of detectives poking out from a shadow with a gun in hand or scantily clad women peering from windows with fear in their eyes. It was in one of these magazines, the February 1936 issue of Famous Detective Cases where John Baldwin told his tale to Roy L Colbert in a story called “Black Mass Murder.” And Startling Detective Adventures from 1937 where Marthalee Forgy wrote “Money Massacre!” The story would pop up again here and there in newspapers, primarily in the 1960's... curious... and the 1980's around it's 100 year anniversary. And it was in one of these, in 1967, where another little clue – to get us back to our purposes – would pop up. Judge Curtis G. Shake makes a reference to a folk song that was written about the murders. A connection that wouldn't be made again until the year 2013 when Paul Slade searches for the word “corn knife.” More on that shortly.

 

It's worth mentioning that Shirley Jackson included the Grattan Murders in Haunting of Hill House in 1959, just a year before the decade in which articles in the Cincinatti Enquirer and the Vincennes Valley Advance and a high school newspaper –who's name I've, honestly, lost – came out. The connection is tenuous, but hey, it's there.

 

So, this is a true crime podcast... and you're here to listen to a folk music podcast, right? How dissimilar are the two, I wonder? Well, since I already had some things to talk to him about, I asked Paul Slade about this. Here he is:

 

PAUL SLADE:

They are just endlessly fascinating, I think. And, as you say, it was long enough ago that people can allow themselves to be fascinated by it without you know, feeling it's a grimy subject to take an interest in.

 

We popularize and sing and pass down murder ballads for the same reason we do true crime. Yes, it's titillating and it's chilling, but it also speaks to something about living in a world full of other humans. We are and will always be slightly suspicious of the fact that we never know who these people all around us are. Bud Stone was a neighbor and a cousin and a friend, and he broke into the Wrattens house and ended their lives. For no discernible reason. We need to hear and see these stories over and over again because we need to process them emotionally. We need to work them through our brains so we can either convince ourselves it won't happen to us or prepare for the unlikely case that it does.

 

And we tell the stories of those who are murdered because, I think, deep down we'd want those stories to be told about us. We don't want the end of our lives to be totally without meaning. And we feel, in some way, by telling the story and feeling the emotions of those people in the last, terrified moments of their lives that we're honoring their memory. We're making it so that somehow, they didn't die completely in vain. We're spitting in the face of murderers like Bud Stone by making their deaths more important after the fact than he made them on that hot September night.

 

There are ethical concerns about true crime, especially if the families of those affected are still living. We don't want to gawk at people's pain and misfortune, but it's important we remember our history and the people who have suffered in it.

 

So now that you know the story, let's listen to the Grattan Murders again, this time in an audiobook of Haunting of Hill House read by David Warner:

 

The first was young Miss Grattan

She tried not to let him in

He stabbed her with a corn knife

That’s how his crimes begin

 

The next was Grandma Grattan

So old and tired and gray

She f’it off her attacker

Until his strength gave way

 

The next was Grandpa Grattan

A-settin’ by the fire

He came up close behind him

And strangled him with wire

 

The last was Baby Grattan

All in his trundle bed

He stove him in the short ribs

Until that child was dead

And then he spit tobacco juice

All on his golden head

 

PAUL SLADE:

It just looked to me as if it must be based on a real case. I've been writing about murder ballads for a while now and I've developed a pretty reliable “sniff test” for when I think one is based on a real case and this one had all the signs really. It was really quite specific in it's details and that's always a clue. So I started looking into it – I started Googling around any combination of “corn knife” and “murder” and “Rattin” and “family” and just any combination of those words I could think of.. And that's what led me to the real case. There's actually a whole website devoted to it. And the real family name was the “Wrattan” family which was W-R-A-T-T-A-N. And they were in Washington Indiana, it was a real family massacre in 1893. And once I'd got the real name, there, I was obviously able to go to the newspaper archives and find one or two contemporary stories of what had actually happened.

So there's quite a lot of detail there that's reproduced absolutely accurately in the song. You've got Mama Wratten and Grandma Wratten among the victims, as the song says. You've got grandma's attempts to fight back – again that's in the song and confirmed in the newspaper reports. The baby killed in it's bed – again, that's confirmed in the newspapers. And the murder weapon. All this information is actually recorded very accurately in the song.

​

 

This is not the first place that these lyrics appear in print, however. It's unclear how Shirley Jackson learned them or why she included them in Haunting of Hill House, but she picked them up in one path of the song. The lyrics are remarkably similar to the Ballad of the Rhetton Family that was told to Paul Slade by Caroline Maw. I'll let Paul tell it to you:

 

PAUL SLADE:

First came mama Rhetton

She came to let him in

She stabbed him with a corn knife

And so his crimes begin

 

Next came grandpa Rhetton

Sitting by the fire

He snuck right up behind him

And choked him with a wire

 

That was basically all she could remember. Though she had some idea that there was also a verse about Baby Rhetton which she could only half recall...

 

 

I want to get back to Shirley Jackson for a minute, in“A Rather Haunted Life” Ruth Franklin chronicles the entirety of Jackson's life from her birth in 1916 to her tragic early death in 1965 at the age of 48. There are two things in the book that I think are of particular interest to me researching this. First, Franklin writes that Shirley Jackson learned the Child ballads from her father at a young age and would continue loving, learning, and singing folk songs throughout her entire life. As the folk revival was in it's fullest swing during the last 20 years of her life, it makes sense that not only would she have an interest in that, but also a lot of resources available from which to learn songs that were maybe more obscure than say... something Bob Dylan recorded.

 

The second point of interest is a focus of the introduction of the book. That Shirley Jackson was a fervent contributor to her own mythology. She would often invent or embellish details about her life or personal character to create drama and mystique around herself. She claimed at one point to live in a house haunted by a ghost and had to draw charms on the door in black crayon to keep the demons out. She claimed to practice witchcraft which Ruth Franklin could never actually confirm, and when her husband's publisher broke his leg in a skiing accident, she claimed it was due to a curse she put on him. In her childhood diary Jackson wrote about being aware of her affectations and trying on personalities and seeing how they suited her. It strikes me that someone who had such a firm grasp on their own affectations would potentially collect quirks and habits to suit that character. And for someone who had such a macabre sensibility, it makes a sort of intuitive sense that she would choose this gruesome and violent folk song as a lullaby. I reached out to Ruth Franklin who told me that she didn't have much information on The Grattan Family ballad, but she did tell me she had a recording somewhere of Shirley Jackson's daughter singing it. If I ever get my hands on that recording, you can bet that I'll put it up for you all to listen to but alas, I don't have it. Sorry.