This week's tune is Down at the Mouth of Old Stinson from the playing of West Virginia fiddler David Franklin "French" Carpenter (7 January 1899--5 March 1965). Wikipedia cites his date of birth as 7 June 1899 (which is found on his WWI draft registration), but his grave says 7 January 1899. He was the son of Thomas Benton Carpenter (1863-1942) and Mary Perkins (1877-1907). His ancestor Nathaniel Carpenter was boen in Long Island, NY, in 1667. French Carpenter married Martha Mary Pridemore (1912-1980) on 15 February 1941 (source: Ancestry)
I will use Wilson Douglas' words to describe French Carpeter (which is a wonderful tribute) from “How I Became a Fiddler." This is in liner notes to the CD "Wilson Douglas: The Right Hand Fork of Rush’s Creek:"
"French Carpenter was an interesting man. Had been a bugler in the World War. He was not a large man at all. And I guess he could have put on a flour bag and it’d look good on him. Had been a handsome man. Fair complected, hair combed straight back. And big blue eyes. Fair every way. And he was a man you couldn’t hear him walk on nothing. And this don’t make no sense: he was a feller could walk in the mud, but yet he wouldn’t get his shoes dirty! and walk across the floor, it was like cats! And dance. Lord have mercy! that man could dance!
And right after the war and when I got discharged, why, after I found out Ed Haley was dead, well Carpenter came back in the country and in 1958 he retired – lived in a little old house over here right where Rush Fork and Otter meet, house is still there. And he’d take that fiddle out about dark, you know, and all them frogs hollering – you know in the spring of the year. – I thought that was the lonesomest dang thing I ever heard.
So I practically stayed with him. Oh, I was with him off and on for eight or nine years. And we’d get together from one to three times a week to play the fiddle. And he had a first cousin was a hot banjo player. And we’d play all night! Play the god-blessed night! And he’d make me tune my fiddle with him. And he’d say, 'Now,Wilson, don’t you try to copy me, for you can’t. That’s ruined a many good fiddler. We have a different time. If you happen to be something like me, fine. Play yourself. So we got to be so doggone good it just sounded like one fiddle, you know. I’d miss a note, he’d stop, he’d say, “Now, play that over again, you missed it, Wilson.' He’d make me get it – wouldn’t let me see no peace till I did – he was that way.
And Carpenter and me’d play, and Carpenter had his time, you couldn’t push him, he had a certain time. And if he got with a musician didn’t suit him, he’d say, 'Well, I don’t feel good, I’m going to quit for tonight.' You know? He wouldn’t offend nobody, he was very kind.
Oh, I worked every day. And I’d go up there, I was all out of steam! I’d work six days a week and I was always up to one or two o’clock in the morning with that fiddle. Well, I’d come home and I’d go to bed and that fiddle tune would keep pushing me; I couldn’t sleep, I could just almost put my finger on it. And I’ve got up at four o’clock in the morning and played that tune. And after I got it, I’d go to bed. Carpenter drove me all the time and he kept telling me he had a bad heart condition and he said, 'I want to push you all I can.' And the man died in 1964 and had a couple of tunes I never got to learn. He was a wonderful old time musician."
Regarding the tune, Traditional Tune Archive states:
"John Hartford notes that the area around Stinson Creek in Calhoun County, West Virginia, was at one time a very rough place and best avoided...Gerry Milnes reports that source Douglas associated the tune at the Mouth of Stinson Creek in Clay County, and recalled that there was a picnic attended by the 'woodhicks' (lumberjacks who were then harvesting timber in the area) there during which part of the entertainment was a wrestling match. Something went amiss and one of the participants, a man named Cheneth, was severely injured and died the next day. This 'crooked' tune is supposed to reflect the sadness of the event. According to Douglas there was an old tavern called Copperhead Junction (also known as “Bloody Bucket”) at the Mouth of Stinson that had a reputation as being one of the roughest places in the region, notorious for excessive drinking, fighting and shootings."
Pretty jaunty tune for something meant to reflet sadness!
I wish to thank friends Stephen Rapp on banjo (Kent, OH) and Sean Fen on guitar (Wooster, OH) for recording this tune with me in early July 2020.
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Nice tune and nicely played, as always!
This makes me happy!
Hey, Peggy, thanks! Hope you are doing well.
Thank you, Anja, it makes me happy to know that this makes you happy :) It's such a fun tune
Good music = Happiness!
Great job guys...exceptional banjo Stephen...
Originally posted by Jasper
Great job guys...exceptional banjo Stephen...
Thanks, Guy! I related your message to him :)
'Hand Carved Fiddle' 2 days