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THE GLEN COLLECTION OF SCOTTISH MUSIC
Presented by Lady Dorothea Ruggles- Brise to the National Library of Scotland, in memory of her brother. Major Lord George Stewart Murray, Black Watch, killed in action in France in 1914. 28th January 1927.
XTrabitional Hunes.
Subscriber's Copy. 200 printed.
No.
V
Cj-llAA, lj&
TRADITIONAL TUNES
Collection of ©allafc airs,
CHIEFLY OBTAINED IN YORKSHIRE AND THE
SOUTH OF SCOTLAND ;
TOGETHER WITH THEIR APPROPRIATE WORDS
FROM BROADSIDES AND FROM ORAL TRADITION
Collected and Edited with Illustrative Notes, bv
FRANK KIDSON.
\>F seoTur-
^OiNBUB5
CHAS. TAPHOUSE & SON, 3, Magdalen Street.
1891,
ENTERED AT STATIONERS' HALL.
PREFACE.
Whatever may be esteemed the value of the present work, it is the outcome of much pleasant labour.
The compiler's wish has been to at least temporarily rescue from oblivion some few of the old airs, which, passing from mouth to mouth for generations, are fast disappearing before the modern effusions of the music hall and concert room. He believes that many of the airs here noted down are excellent specimens of melody, and as such, are worthy of preservation ; that they have a peculiar quaintness, a sweetness, and a tenderness of expression, absent in the music of the present day, which it is impossible to successfully imitate.
He has endeavoured to set down the airs as far as musical notes will permit with the utmost fidelity, scrupulously avoiding any attempt at arrangement or emendation, for, however desirable it might be in some instances to amend the airs from corruptions which have crept in, the Editor has considered that he would be scarcely justified in tampering with them, as such an attempt at revisal would greatly detract from the antiquarian value of the whole.
It is possible that some musical reader may find much to criticise in the technical arrangement of the melodies. The Editor certainly does not claim that they are absolutely perfect, but he would merely remind such reader of the fact (so well-known to persons who have attempted the feat), that very great difficulty attends the notation of irregular old melodies from untutored singers.
vi. Preface.
An endeavour to be scrupulously exact in attempting to put the airs before the reader as the Editor has heard them sung, may have led him into some technical errors, but he trusts that these are not serious and will be pardoned.
With regard to the printing of the airs pure and simple and without harmony, an extract from the preface of John Hullah's Song Book applies so exactly to the present case that it may be quoted :
"The presentation of these songs without accompaniment has been dictated, not merely by want of space but by the desire to present them in their original forms ; for, in almost every case, the tune is the only original part of the music of a national song, the addition even of a bass having been generally made by a later hand — not always guided by a sympathetic spirit."
To the above may be added that the traditional airs forming the present volume have perhaps never been harmonized. They have either been sung by a single singer (or by parties of singers in unison), or performed on such a simple instrument as the flute or fiddle. Is it, then, desirable to put such old wine into new bottles?
Where it is, however, deemed desirable to add harmony for the purpose of playing them on the piano, it will be in general found that a thin bass will be more in the character of the old harmonies, put to songs which were printed and issued when these traditional airs were most popular.
The Editor has here to thank the many kind friends who have interested themselves in the work, and to the contributors of airs and songs his warmest acknowledgments are offered. Chief among the contributors to be thanked are Mr. Benjamin Holgate, of Headingley, and Mr. Charles Lolley, of Leeds, to both of whose retentive memories of songs heard in earlier years much of the contents of this book is due.
Mr. Holgate's remembrances are of the songs once popular in and around Leeds, and Mr. Lolley's are of those in the district of Howden, in the East Riding of Yorkshire. Mr. Lolley has, besides,
Preface. vii.
while this work has been in progress, taken a great deal of trouble in collecting airs for it from other parts of the East Riding.
The other contributors are not less warmly thanked, and their contributions acknowledged in the body of the book. To all of these the Editor is greatly obliged, and tenders his heartiest thanks for the patience with which they have in many cases repeated the air until correctly noted down.
The Editor believes that all the airs here set down (with the exception of two or three which he has himself contributed to the Leeds Mercury Weekly Supplement), are now printed for the first time. In this belief he may perhaps, in some instances, be mis- taken ; he however has made diligent search among early collections, and for reasons, which he gives in the introduction, he feels sure that this class of melody is purely traditional.
In conclusion, he wishes to ask any person who is possessed of, or who can obtain, traditional melodies, to transmit copies to him, as he intends, should circumstances warrant, to issue a second series of this work. He can assure intending contributors that such will be greatly esteemed and duly acknowledged.
128, Burley Road, Lekds.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
An Auld Man he courted me ... ... ... ... 92
As we were a-sailing ... ... ... ... 99
Banks of Claudy, The ... ... ... ... 88
Banks of Sweet Dundee ... ... ... ... 53 & 173
Barbara Allen ... ... .... ... ■■36
Bold Privateer, The ... ... ... ... 101
Bonny Scotch Lad, The ... ... ... ... 118
Bonny Irish Boy, The ... ... ... ... 152
Braes of Strathblane ... ... ... ... ... 90
Brewer Laddie, The ... ... ... ... 86
Brennan on the Moor ... ... ... ... 123
Brocklesby Fair ... ... ... ... ... 150
Card Playing Song ... ... ... ... ... 159
Captain Death ... ... ... ... ... 104
Chevy Chace ... ... ... ... ... 18
Cock Fight, The ... ... ... ... 135
Come all ye bold Young Countrymen ... ... ... 57
Colin and Phoebe ... ... ... ... 73
Coupshawholme Fair ... ... ... ... 97
Death of Bill Brown ... ... ... ... 131
Down in our Village ... ... ... ... 149
Down by the Derwent Side ... ... ... 151
Dowie Dens of Yarrow, The ... ... ... ...21
Drowned Sailor, The ... ... ... ... 112
Execution Song, The ... ... ... ... 128
Farmer's Boy, The ... ... ... ...63&174
Contents. ix.
PAGE
Foggy Dew, The ... ... ... ... ... 165
Forty Miles ... .... ... ... ... 58
Fylingdale Fox Hunt ... ... ... ... 137
Geordie ... ... ... ... ... 24
Glowerowerum ... ... ... ... ... 96
Gown of Green, The ... ... ... ... 61
Goose and the Gander, The ... ... ... ...71
Golden Glove, The ... ... ... ...49&173
Green Bushes ... ... ... ... ... 47
Grey Mare, The ... ... ... ... 78
Hares in the Old Plantation ... ... ... ... 133
Henry Martin ... ... ... ... ... 29
Highland Mary ... ... ... ... ... 84
I am a Rover ... ... ... ... ... 147
Indian Lass, The ... ... ... ... ... 109
Johnny Todd ... ... ... ... ... 103
Jolly Shilling, The ... ... ... ... ... 158
Just as the Tide was flowing ... ... ... 108
Knight and Shepherd's Daughter, The ... ... ... 19
Lancashire Morris Dance ... ... ... 163
Lord Bateman ... ... .... ... ... 32
Lord Thomas and Fair Eleanor ... ... ... 40
Maggie's Smile ... ... ... ... •••94
Mammy's Pet, The ... ... :.. ... 93
Mary across the Wild Moor ... ... ... ... 77
My True Love once he courted me . . . ... ... 44
My Valentine ... ... ... ... ... 60
Nightingale, The ... ... ... ... 61
On board of a Man-of-War ... ... ... ... i02
Outward Bound ... ... ... ... io6
Outlandish Knight, The ... ... ... 26 & 172
Pretty Ploughboy, The ... . . ... ... 1 4 c
Plains of Waterloo, The ... .. ... ... 120
Polly Oliver's Ramble ... ... ... ... ug
x. Contents.
PAGE
Robin Tamson's Smiddy ... ... ... ... 82
Rother Glen ... ... ... ... ... 93
Roving Heckler Lad ... ... ... ... 146
Saddle to Rags ... ... ... ... ... 140
Scarborough Fair ... ... ... ... 42 & 172
Soldier's Dream, The ... ... ... ... 167
Spinning Wheel, The ... ... ... ...51
Sprig of Thyme, The ... ... ... ... 69
Spotted Cow, The ... ... ... ... ... 70
Spence Broughton ... ... ... ... 126
.Spencer the Rover ... ... ... ... ... 154
Stolen Child, The ... ... ... ... 169
Summer Morning, The ... ... ... ...113
Three Ravens, The ... ... ... ••• 17
Three Maidens a-milking did go ... ... ... 72
Through the Grove ... ... ... ... 55
Time to Remember the Poor ... ... ... 170
When I was a Maid ... ... ... ... 156
When Adam was first created ... ... . .. 153
White Hare, The ... ... ... ... 139
With Henry Hunt we'll go ... ... ... ... 161
Young Bucks a-hunting go ... ... ... 143
Young Roger of the Valley ... ... ... ... 66
INTRODUCTION.
When I travelled I took particular delight in hearing the songs and fables that are come down from father to son, and are most in vogue among the common people of the countries through which I passed ; for it is impossible that anything should be universally tasted and approved of by a multitude, though they are only the rabble of the nation, which hath not in it some peculiar aptness to please and gratify the mind of man. — Spectator, No. 70.
An ordinary song or ballad that is the delight of the
common people cannot fail to please all such readers as are not un- qualified for the entertainment by their affectation or ignorance. — Ibid.
If an excuse were necessary for the collection of traditional folk- song, the 'above sentiments from the pen of such an honoured writer as Joseph Addison would be a sufficient plea. It is to be hoped, however, that the reader of this work has enough sympathy with its design as to render such a one unnecessary. The impor- tant part that songs and tunes have played in political history has proved their power in the land and is well-known ; a lengthy list of the ballads which have helped to " make history" in our own country alone could be given were it necessary. Upon some occasions, a foolish song becomes ennobled by the part it plays. In modern days the American anti-slavery hymn, "John Brown's body lies a- mouldering in the Grave," in which there is no rhyme, and certainly no reason, is one which may be quoted.
Dr. Russell in one of his letters from the Crimea gives us a rather pathetic picture of our poor fellows lying cold and miserable in the trenches, knowing that the next day's fight would bring death and wounds to hundreds, solacing themselves by singing familiar
'S***^
Contents.
Robin Tamson's Smiddy
Rother Glen
Roving Heckler Lad
Saddle to Rags ...
Scarborough Fair
Soldier's Dream, The
Spinning Wheel, The
Sprig of Thyme, The
Spotted Cow, The
Spence Broughton
Spencer the Rover
Stolen Child, The
Summer Morning, The
Three Ravens, The
Three Maidens a-milking did go
Through the Grove
Time to Remember the Poor
When I was a Maid
When Adam was first created
White Hare, The
With Henry Hunt we'll go
Young Bucks a-hunting go
Young Roger of the Valley
PAGE
... 82
93
... 146
140
42 & 172
167
... 51
69
... 70
126
... 154
169
... 113
17
... 72
55 ... 170
156
•■• i53
*39
... 161
i43 ... 66
PAGE
I40 42 & I72
16)
••• jl
• {,
... JO
126
.., 154
160,
... 113
•• 17 ... 72
55
... 170
■■■■ '53
'39
... 161
'43
INTRODUCTION.
When I travelled I took particular delight in hearing the songs and fables that are come down from father to son, and are most in vogue among the common people of the countries through which I passed ; for it is impossible that anything should be universally tasted and approved of by a multitude, though they are only the rabble of the nation, which hath not in it some peculiar aptness to please and gratify the mind of man. — Spectator, No. 70.
An ordinary song or ballad that is the delight of the
common people cannot fail to please all such readers as are not un- qualified for the entertainment by their affectation or ignorance. — Ibid.
If an excuse were necessary for the collection of traditional folk- song, the above sentiments from the pen of such an honoured writer as Joseph Addison would be a sufficient plea. It is to be hoped, however, that the reader of this work has enough sympathy with its design as to render such a one unnecessary. The impor- tant part that songs and tunes have played in political history has proved their power in the land and is well-known ; a lengthy list of the ballads which have helped to " make history" in our own country alone could be given were it necessary. Upon some occasions, a foolish song becomes ennobled by the part it plays. In modern days the American anti-slavery hymn, "John Brown's body lies a- mouldering in the Grave," in which there is no rhyme, and certainly no reason, is one which may be quoted.
Dr. Russell in one of his letters from the Crimea gives us a rather pathetic picture of our poor fellows lying cold and miserable in the trenches, knowing that the next day's fight would bring death and wounds to hundreds, solacing themselves by singing familiar
xii. Introduction.
songs, and talking of far off England. One of them, a sergeant, struck up the plaintive song, " Annie Laurie," which was gradually taken up by the entire line till hundreds of voices joined in the song. Who would dare to say that the remembrance of the song sung by the loved ones at home would not spur the men to greater daring ?
The collection of songs here given, however, claims nothing heroic in association. They are simply homely ditties, such as were sung by the humbler classes in England round the fireside of farm kitchens or at the plough tail, and the little wit or brilliancy they may possess must not be judged by a very high standard. They were sufficient to interest the original singers, the themes being in most cases familiar subjects. This class of song is fast disappearing before the modern productions, and any young ploughboy who should sing the songs his father or grandfather sung, would be laughed to scorn. Before easy means of transit existed, the songs of a country side remained unaltered for a great length of time, and people vdelighted to sing the songs which were venerable with age. Now, however, cheap trips to the larger towns enable the country lad to compete with the town's boy in his knowledge of popular musical favourites.
The old traditional songs are fast dying out, never to be recalled. They are now seldom or never sung, but rather remembered, by old people. I have found in the course of my search how quickly this class of old airs is disappearing, for I have frequently been told of some old man, then dead, from whom I could have got certain songs had I been a few months earlier in my inquiries. Although from some country singers I have met with the utmost sympathy and aid, yet from others, from shyness or from a difficulty of seeing the utility of collecting these old things, I have not found my task a light one.
Another source of trouble has been the notation of tunes from singers who, by reason of great age and quavering voices, sang the melody flat and out of tune.
Introduction. xiii.
The type of tunes, here gathered together, is one which never got into print, for they were sung by a different class of people to those catered for by the music publisher.
Of course the tunes in the present collection vary very much as to age, but the older class of airs is, I think I may safely say, the remnants or survival of early minstrel melody. Such (and I believe musical antiquaries will bear me out), are — "The Three Ravens," "The Knight and Shepherd's Daughter," "The Dowie Dens of Yarrow," " Lord Thomas and Fair Eleanor," and several more. Of a later period, but still, I feel sure, very early specimens of melody, are — " My True Love once he courted me," " Green Bushes," " The Pretty Ploughboy," " The Nightingale," " The Sprig of Thyme," " Polly Oliver's Ramble," etc. While airs of the last century appear to find examples in — " Colin and Phoebe," "The Indian Lass," "The Spotted Cow," "Young Bucks a- hunting go," " The White Hare," besides many others.
The earlier airs breathe a peculiar plaintive strain such as can be fully imagined would be the tone of the singer of that day. This would be the woman of the house who sat spinning, while her husband or sweetheart was away swashbucklering, either as a lord or a vassal, and most likely to be brought home dead, dying, or maimed.
The incidents of the story to which such airs were joined were always more or less of a melancholy character ; the tune in the minor mode, of one strain, simple in structure, of little compass, and being queer and odd in interval. As time got on, the airs lost a good deal of their ruggedness, and towards the middle of the last century became more ornamental in character ; still, these traditional tunes were never of the scholarly type of the published melodies ; but that they have no lack of beautiful melody it is need- less to say. From the early days these songs hare passed down from mouth to mouth, and as printed music and musical instruments became more common, they were abandoned for newer and more
xiv. Introduction.
fashionable music, till it was left for the cottage to preserve what the hall had^cast aside.
Many of the airs somewhat later have been evolved by rustic fiddlers or crowders for the amusement of a rustic audience, and, like their predecessors, passed down in a country side for many ages. They would be carried from place to place by pedlars and by journeymen who travelled to ply their trade.
The question naturally arises, what changes have the tunes undergone in their passage down to our own time ? Undoubtedly, in many instances, much corruption has crept in : in some cases by the wilful alterations of singers and performers, and in other in- stances by reason of imperfect acquirement of the air. Never having been fixed by any printed or written standard, each singer has unconsciously omitted, added to, or changed the strain, more or less according to his musical ear or the retentiveness of his memory. This being the case, it is much to be wondered at that some few tunes are found so little altered in different districts, and it satisfactorily accounts for the variations in others. The fact certainly remains that tradition is wonderfully accurate, and this is so in more things than in old tunes.
Many instances could be given which would satisfactorily prove this, and show the tenacity with which certain tunes have held to- gether while transmitted orally.
In the course of my search for materials for the present work, I have found this in many instances to be satisfactorily proved. I have had many old airs sung to me which I have been told had descended down, strictly orally, from some far back relative, the period of time covered being from fifty to a hundred years. In the instances I name I have been able to verify the airs from printed copies contemporary with the original singers, and, in most cases, I have found a wonderful accuracy. In these examples, none of the singers had sufficient musical knowledge to read or play from the " prick,"
Introduction. xv.
In the present collection some tunes may be quoted to bear out this statement. The first version of " The Banks of Sweet Dundee" is sung, to my own knowledge, as near note for note as possible in places so widely apart as the South of Scotland, and the North and West Ridings of Yorkshire, and in Berkshire and Oxfordshire. There are also other tunes to which this song is sung in cer- tain districts, but this particular setting I have myself heard in the places named. None of the singers of the song can have ever had any written or printed copy of the air to aid their memory, for, I believe I am perfectly warranted in saying that this set of the tune is here in print for the first time.
"The Summer Morning" may also be mentioned as an air which has a like traditional existence in different parts of England. The trifling variations of " Forty Miles"* is also worth noticing. In general, where an original melody has some degree of intricacy, it is found either greatly changed in different districts or a totally fresh air used for the song. " Polly Oliver," " Henry Martin," " My True Love once he courted me," and others in the volume now before the reader are examples of this. In such instances the change is due to a singer who, unable to thoroughly master the air, either boldly invents a new one or uses for the song one with which he is more familiar. In later times, when reading became a little more general in country districts, the ballad sheets would give a certain stability to the words, which the music had not the advan- tage of, for had the air been also printed with the ballad (a thing which scarcely ever occurred), the rustic who bought the sheet would have been no wiser. There are even now in country places old fiddlers who, while being good performers of this class of old airs and of country dances, openly boast that they never knew a
* It may be worth while reminding the reader that the distance, "Forty Miles," is no fanciful or haphazard statement. In the days of journeymen who travelled with their kit of tools on their shoulders from town to town to seek work, forty miles per day was the regu- lation distance, and the picture the song gives of a tired and wet traveller seeking admittance at a farm cottage is a natural one,
xvi. Introduction.
written note of music in their lives, and maintain that they who are ignorant in this particular matter are the better performers.
This circumstance, besides the additional one of the typographical difficulties in way of music printing, has kept the ballad printer (generally a very poor and ignorant man) to the words alone. The corruptions that have crept in by reason of the blunders of the re- citer or the illiterateness of the printer have frequently turned a ballad, originally good, into an absurdity ; it must also be conceded that the rustic muse produced better melody than poetry or even rhyme.
The reader of these old songs and ballads must not criticise them from a modern standpoint; they have their place in our literature, and pleased the simple audience to which they were originally addressed.
Frank Kidson.
XTrabitional {Tunes.
THE THREE RAVENS.
THE air here following bears to my mind every appearance of antiquity. It is a different strain to the now well-known tune to the same song which William Chappell prints in Popular Music of the Olden Time, taken from Melismata, 1611, and which had been previously unearthed by Sibbald in the new series of The Vocal Magazine, Edinburgh, circa 1800.
I am favoured with the copy here presented by Mr. John Holmes, of Roundhay, who first heard it about 1825 from his mother's singing. This was in a remote village among the Derbyshire hills, most aptly named Stoney Middleton.
Although the air is not the same with the better known copy, the words differ but slightly from the original. Mr. Holmes tells me that he heard a Danish gentleman play this same tune, so familiar to him, on the violin, and was informed by him that it had been current among the people in Denmark.
THE THREE RAVENS.
There were three ra-vens on a tree, A - down, a -down, a der ry down, There
S
*
were three ra - vens on a tree;, Heigh ho ! The middlemost ra-ven said to me, There lies a dead man at yon tree. A-down, a-down, a der - ry down, Heigh h,o !
1 8 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
There were three ravens on a tree,
A-down, a-down, a derry down, There were three ravens on a tree,
Heigh ho ! The middlemost raven said to me, " There lies a dead man at yon tree," A-down, a-down, a derry down, Heigh ho !
There comes his lady full of woe,
A-down, a-down, a derry down, There comes his lady full of woe,
Heigh ho ! There comes his lady full of woe,
as she could go,
A-down, a-down, a derry down, Heigh ho !
" Who's this that's killed my own true love,
A-down, a-down, a derry down, Who's this that's killed my own true love,
Heigh ho ! I hope in heaven he'll never rest, Nor e'er enjoy that blessed place."
A-down, a-down, a derry down, Heigh ho !
Though by no means complete, the above is given as a traditional fragment for the purpose of comparison. The ballad has been known in Scotland under the title, "The Twa Corbies." See Scott's Minstrelsy of the Scottish Borders, Motherwell's Minstrelsy, 1827, and other ballad collections. Motherwell prints a traditional air for the "Three Ravens," as sung in Scotland, but it is unlike either the one here set forth or the one in Melismata.
CHEVY CHACE.
THE following setting of the ballad used to be sung in a doleful voice by ballad singers in the West Riding of Yorkshire. It is not the same with the many published airs to which Chevy Chace is found united. Mr. Wm. Cheetham, of Horsforth, supplies the present version.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 19
The ballad itself is much too long and too well known for insertion here.
CHEVY CHACE.
God pros-per long our noble king, Our lives, and safe-ties all ;
is
1 — _^ _ — «
no-ble hunt ■ ing did there once In Chev-y Cha:e
God'prosper long our noble king,
Our lives and safeties all ; A woeful hunting did there once
In Chevy Chace befall.
To drive the deer with hound and horn,
Earl Percy took his way : The child may rue that is unborn
The hunting of that day. Etc. etc..
^m
THE KNIGHT AND SHEPHERD'S DAUGHTER.
THIS is an example of a very ancient ballad, which has come down traditionally to our own time. The tune, from its peculiar structure, is, I am confident, quite contemporary with very early copies of the words. It used to be sung many years ago by the Leeds mill girls, and was one of the " fly boat songs," as they were named. This title was given on account of the lads and lasses who invested their pence in fly boat rides at fairs, etc., singing such like ditties. The chief characteristic of a " fly boat song," was its easy swing and vigour.
My friend, Mr. Benjamin Holgate, of Leeds, to whom I am in- debted for so many excellent airs in this collection, supplies the air and fragment of song.
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
Like the generality of old ballads, the words are found under many guises, both in English and in Scottish ballad books.
It seems to have been first printed by Bishop Percy in the Reliques, who informs us that it is taken from an old black letter copy, and is mentioned by Hearne as being popular in Queen Elizabeth's time. There is also a quotation from the ballad in Fletcher's plays, " The Knight of the Burning Pestle," and in the " Pilgrim." A black letter copy is preserved among the Roxburghe collection of broadsides.
The Scottish versions are variously titled : " Earl PJchard," in Motherwell's Minstrelsy, 1827, "Earl Richard, the Queen's Brother," in Buchan's Ancient Ballads of the North, 1828, and there is also a long copy of " Earl Richard" in Kinloch's ballads.
Scott quotes a verse in the "Abbot" —
" Oh, some do call me Jack, sweet love,
And some do call me Gill ; But when I ride to Holyrood,
They call me Wilful Will."
The fragment obtained in Leeds, and here in part presented, differs somewhat from the other versions of the ballad, but only enough can be given to serve as a vehicle for the beautiful and simple air.
THE KNIGHT, AND SHEPHERD'S DAUGHTER.
Mte^W=3= ==r====i3
±
=3 ?m=q=q— qzi=^=Tq— 3=z
Who swore he'd
^J5ES=*3^
have bis will. Fol lol lay, Fol lol di did • die lol di day.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 21
There was a shepherd's daughter,
Who kept sheep on yon hill ; There came a young man riding by,
Who swore he'd have his will, Fol lol lay, &c.
He took her by the lilly white hand, And by her silken sleeve ;
Fol lol lay, &c.
Or tell to me your name. Fol lol lay, &c.
" Oh, some they call me Jack, sweetheart,
And some they call me Will ; But when I ride the king's high-gate,
But name is sweet William." Fol lol lay, &c.
The use of the term, " King's high-gate " for the king's high- road, is noticeable as having a distinct Yorkshire ring with it.
Chappell gives an air to the above, taken from Playford's Dancing Master, called the " Shepherd's Daughter," and Motherwell inserts a tune for " Earl Richard." They both have, of course, nothing in common with the Leeds version.
THE DOWIE DENS OF YARROW.
I OBTAINED this traditional version of the ballad, as well as the fine old tune, from Mrs. Calvert, of Gilnockie, in Eskdale, where, and in Liddesdale, it is occasionally heard. Mrs. Calvert originally obtained it on the braes of Yarrow from her grandmother, who was the celebrated Tibbie Shiel, the humble friend of Sir Walter Scott and James Hogg.
Sir Walter Scott was the first to publish the ballad in his Minstrelsy of the Scottish Borders, where he states that it was a great favourite among the inhabitants of Ettrick forest. Scott's version differs
2± TRADITIONAL TUNES.
much from the one now printed, and an air which is fitted to it in the 1833 edition of Scott's poems, Vol. III., bears no resemblance to Mrs. Calvert's air.
The Minstrelsy version commences —
" Late at e'en, drinking the wine, And ere they paid the lawing, They set a combat them between, To fight it in the dawing."
Several other copies are found in the Scottish collections. Mother- well has one from the recitation of an old woman in the west of Scotland. Buchan in his Ancient Ballads of the North has another which more nearly resembles the one I now print ; and Aytoun, in Ballads of Scotland, 1858, gives an excellent version, along with some very pertinent remarks respecting the ballad as printed by Scott.
THE DOWIE DENS OF YARROW.
She was courted by nine gen-tle-men, And a ploughboy lad in Yar-row.
There lived a lady in the west —
I ne'er could find her marrow ; She was courted by nine gentlemen,
And a ploughboy lad in Yarrow.
These nine sat drinking at the wine,
Sat drinking wine in Yarrow ; They made a vow among themselves,
To fight for her in Yarrow.
She washed his face, she kaimed his hair,
As oft she'd done before, O ! She made him like a knight sae bright,
To fi l- h t for her in Yarrow.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. z%
As he walked up yon high, high hill,
And down by the holmes of Yarrow ; There he saw nine armed men,
Come to fight with him in Yarrow.
" There's nine of you, there's one of me,
It's an unequal marrow ; But I'll fight you all one by one,
On the dowie dens of Yarrow."
There he slew, and there they flew,
And there he wounded sorely ; Till her brother, John, he came in beyond,
And pierced his heart most foully.
" Go home, go home, thou false young man,
And tell thy sister, Sarah, That her true love, John, lies dead and gone,
On the dowie dens of Yarrow."
" Oh, father, dear, I dreamed a dream,
I'm afraid it will bring sorrow ; I dreamed I was pulling the heather bell,
In the dowie dens of Yarrow."
" Oh, daughter, dear, I read your dream,
I doubt it will prove sorrow ; For your true love, John, lies dead and gone,
On the dowie dens of Yarrow."
As she walked up yon high, high hill,
And down by the holmes of Yarrow, There she saw her true love, John,
Lying pale and dead on Yarrow.
Her hair it being three quarters long,
The colour it was yellow ; She wrapped it round his middle sma',
And carried him hame to Yarrow.
" Oh. father, dear, you've seven sons,
You may wed them a' to-morrow ; But a fairer flower I never saw,
Than the lad I loved in Yarrow."
This fair maid being great with child.
It filled her heart with sorrow ; She died within her lover's arms,
Between that day and morrow.
24 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
Sir Walter Scott gives an account of the supposed circumstances of this story, but other accounts are also to be found which point to different actors. What the real facts of the case were can never now be known, but it cannot be doubted but that the ballad is founded on some tragic deed which has really happened.
In the early and lawless period in which the original ballad was produced, no hesitation would be felt in removing, either by treachery or in fair fight, a suitor of lower birth who had dared to aspire to a daughter of a family of position. The " Dowie Dens of Yarrow" appears to chronicle some such event.
GEORDIE.
THE air now given resembles in a marked degree the traditional tune, the "Dowie Dens of Yarrow" just previously printed. It was obtained for me by Mr. Charles Lolley, of Leeds, from the district of Howden, in Yorkshire. A fragment of a version of the Scotch ballad, " Geordie," was fitted to it, but one which appears to have formed part of a version of the piece not to be found in print.
" My Geordie he shall hang in chains, In chains of gold and silver, For stealing of the king's white deer."
One of the original issues of the ballad appears in black letter in the Roxburghe collection of broadsides. It is entitled, " A Lamentable New Ditty made upon the Death of a worthy gentleman, George Stoole, dwelling sometime on Gateside Moor and sometime at Newcastle, in Northumberland, with his penitent end, to a delicate Scottish Tune."
George Stoole was executed in 1610.
James Hogg prints the ballad in his Jacobite Relics, and in Johnson's Scot's Musical Museum, Yol. IV., 1792, there is one
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 25
totally different, a few verses of which are here given, to fit th( traditional tune which Mr. Lolley favours me with.
GEORDIE.
^-i~g mA-0 — ji — m — i_j-j 1 — 1 x
: was a bat - tie in the North, And no-bles there were ma - ny, And
they liae killed Sir Char • lie Hay, And laid the wyte on Geor • die.
There was a battle in the North, " And nobles there were many ;
And they hae killed Sir Charlie Hay, And laid the wyte on Geordie.
O, he has written a lang letter,
He sent it to his lady — " Ye maun come up to Edinbro' town,
To see what words o' Geordie.1'
When first she looked the letter on, She was baith red and rosy ;
But she hadna read a word but twa, Till she wallow't like a lily.
And she has mounted her gude grey steed,
Her menzie a' gaed wi: her ; And she did neither eat nor drink,
Till Edinbro' town did see her.
At first, appear'd the fatal block, And syne the axe to head him,
And Geordie coming down the stair, Wi' bands of iron on him.
O, she's down on her bended knees- I wat she's pale and weary —
" O ! pardon, pardon, noble king, And gie me back my dearie.
26 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
" I hae borne seven sons to my Geordie, dear, The seventh ne'er saw his daddy ;
O ! pardon, pardon, noble king, Pity a waefu' lady."
*' Gar bid the headin' man mak haste,"
Our king replied fu lordly ; " O ! noble king, tak a' that's mine,
But gie me back my Geordie."
An aged lord at the king's right hand,
Says, " Noble king, but hear me, " Gar her tell down five thousand pounds,
And gie her back her dearie."
Some gae her marks, some gae her crowns,
Some gae her dollars many ; And she's tell'd down five thousand pounds,
And gotten again her dearie.
He claspit her by the middle sma',
And he kissed her lips sae rosy — " The fairest flower o' woman kind,
Is my sweet, bonnie lady !"
Stenhouse, in his notes to Johnson's Museum, says that Robert Burns obtained this ballad for Johnson, and that it relates to George, Earl of Huntly, who was sent by the Queen Regent of Scotland to Shetland, in 1554, to seize a certain person, which he failed to do. He was imprisoned and his estates forfeited, but afterwards came again into fayour.
THE OUTLANDISH KNIGHT. A SINGULAR ballad of the Bluebeard type which formerly -^ *- had a wide spread popularity in England and Scotland. The same thing is found in the folk lore of Sweden and Germany. The first Scottish version published was in David Herd's collection, 1776, as " May Colvin," and afterwards other copies appear in later gatherings, as "May Collean" and " False Sir John." Tradition,
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 27
it is said, points out the real actors in the drama, and gives names to the places wherein it was enacted ; but, as these vary in each district where the ballad is or was recited, no reliance can be placed upon it. For particulars see Chamber's Ballads, 1829, and Child's collection, 1857.
The "Outlandish Knight" is the English copy of the story, and it was first edited in a volume issued by the Percy Society, by Mr. J. H. Dixon; Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads, 1846. I am in possession of a copy of it on a broadside in a similar form, but named "The Old Beau."
All copies, both Scottish and English, preserve the parrot incident.
The air was obtained in the North Riding of Yorkshire, and is certainly an early tune. Another air to the same words may be found in Northutnbrian Minstrelsy, and others, differing from each other, to which the "May Colvin" version of it were sung, are in R. A. Smith's Scottish Minstrel, Vol. III., circa 182 1, Motherwell's Minstrely, 1827, and Christie's Traditional Airs, Vol. II.
THE OUTLANDISH KNIGHT.
An Out-landish knight from the Northlands came, And he came a woo-in? to
yVM-fnlsinHc 4nr1 t\^r>rf\-tf'<] mgr.ni imp
me; He promised he'd take me to the Northlands, And there he'd mar-ry me
An Outlandish knight from the North lands came,
And he came a wooing to me ; He promised he'd take me to the North lands,
And there he'd marry me.
" Come fetch me some of your father's gold, And some of your mother's fee,
And two of the best nags out of the stable, Where they stand thirty and three.'
28 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
She fetched him some of her father's gold,
And some of her mother's fee, And two of the best nags out of the stable,
Where they stood thirty and three.
She mounted on her milk-white steed,
He on the dapple grey ; They rode till they came unto the sea-side,
Three hours before it was day.
" Light off, light off, thy milk-white steed,
And deliver it unto me ; Six pretty maids have I drowned here,
And thou the seventh shalt be.
" Pull off, pull off thy silken gown,
And deliver it unto me ; Methinks it looks too rich and gay,
To rot in the salt sea.
" Pull off, pull off thy silken stays,
And deliver them unto me ; Methinks they are too fine and gay,
To rot in the salt sea.
"Pull off, pull off thy Holland smock,
And deliver it unto me ; Methinks it looks too rich and gay,
To rot in the salt sea."
" If I must pull off my Holland smock,
Pray, turn thy back on me ; For it is not fitting that such a ruffian
A naked woman should see."
He turned his back towards her, And viewed the leaves so green ;
She catched him round the middle so small, And tumbled him into the stream.
Fie dropped high, and he dropped low,
Until he came to the side ; — " Catch hold of my hand, my pretty maiden,
And I will make you my bride."
" Lie there, lie there, thou false-hearted man,
Lie there instead of me ; Six pretty maids hast thou drowned here,
And the seventh has drowned thee."
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 29
She mounted on her milk-white steed,
And led the dapple grey ; She rode till she came to her own father's hall,
Three hours before it was day.
The parrot being in the window so high,
Hearing the lady, did say — " I'm afraid that some ruffian has led you astray,
That you have tarried so long away."
" Don't prittle nor prattle, my pretty parrot,
Nor tell any tales of me ; And thy cage shall be made of glittering gold,
Although it is made of the tree ! "
The king being in the chamber so high,
And hearing the parrot, did say — " What ails you, what ails you, my pretty parrot,
That you prattle so long before day ?"
" It's no laughing matter," the parrot did say,
" That so loudly I call unto thee ; For the cats have got into the window so high,
And I'm afraid they will have me."
" Well turned, well turned, my pretty parrot,
Well turned, well turned for me ; Thy cage shall be made of the glittering gold,
And the door of the best ivory."
HENRY MARTIN.
FOR this very singular old fragment I am in the first instance indebted to Mr. Wm. Cheetham, of Horsforth, who has remembered a portion of the words and the tune from his boyhood. In his letter enclosing the fragment, Mr. Cheetham says — " As to the fragments of Henry Martin, it is something to have got even the name of the old ditty. To the best of my recollection, it ended by Master Flenry being hanged — ' to maintain his two brothers and he' — and very properly, though sad. It must relate to the buccaneering times, about a hundred and fifty or two hundred years ago. It was sung by a very old woman — a bobbin winder —
3o TRADITIONAL TUNES.
in my mother's youth, about ninety years ago, and my recollection of the air is from hearing it sixty years ago. I only wish we had the words as accurate as the air."
Mr. Cheetham's version is as follows —
HENRY MARTIN.
(First Version.)
lfe^Nii§3=N^
There liv - ed three bro-thers in mer - ry Scot - land ! In
-o — —
mer - ry Scot - land lived bro - there three, And they d:d cast
fefer
— ^-© ■— i- * 0 1—1 1
• -e- .
To main - tain his two bro • thers and he I
There lived three brothers in merry Scotland, In merry Scotland lived three brothers ; And they did cast lots which should rob on the sea, To maintain his two brothers and he.
And the lot it did light on Henry Martin — The youngest of all the brothers three — And he went a roaming on the salt sea, To maintain his two brothers and he.
And when they had sailed five days and more,
On a rich merchant ship coming down they then bore,
As he went a roaming on the salt sea,
To maintain his two brothers and he.
The rich merchant ship got wounded by he,
And right down to the bottom of ths salt sea went she,
As he went a roaming on the salt sea,
To maintain his two brothers and he.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 31
I think that there can be no doubt but that this is a portion of an early Scottish ballad, dating from a period before the time Mr. Cheetham supposes. I can find nothing in print among the Scottish or English ballads having the same story, and I have failed to find the ballad on a broadside.
Upon inquiry I found that among the fisher folk at Flamborough in Yorkshire, the ballad was known, and with a little difficulty, by the judicious expenditure of tobacco, I was enabled to note down the following : —
HENRY MARTIN.
(Second I 'ersion . )
|)"Hr— -Hw— m~ •— e — «-hi— ^— 4 — I N-y-g-«-*-* \
-0- . ■•■-•-
in Scot-land there liv'd three brothers ; of laic, ]n Scotland there liv'd brothers
rob on the sea To maintain his two bru • thers and he.
In Scotland there lived three brothers of late, In Scotland there lived brothers three ;
Now, the youngest cast lots with the other two, Which should go rob on the salt sea.
The lot it did fall to bold Henry Martin —
The youngest of all the three ; And he had to turn robber all on the salt seas,
To maintain his two brothers and he.
He had not been sailing past a long winter's night,
Past a long winter's night before day, Before he espied a lofty, fine ship,
Come sailing all on the salt sea.
" O ! where are you bound for ?" cried Henry Martin, " O ! where are you bound for ?" cried he ;
" I'm a rich loaded ship bound for fair England, I pray you to let me pass free."
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
" O, no ! O, no !" cried Henry Martin,
'' O, no ! that never can be ; Since I have turned robber all on the salt sea,
To maintain my two brothers and me.
" Heave down your main tack, likewise your main tie,
And lig yourself under my lee ; For your rich glowing gold I will take it away,
And your fair bodies drown in the salt sea."
Then broadside to broadside they merrily fought,
For fully two hours or three, When, by chance, Henry Martin, gave her a broadside,
And right down to the bottom went she.
Bad news ! bad news ! unto old England,
Bad news I tell unto thee ; For your rich glowing gold is all wasted away,
And your mariners are drown'd in the salt sea.
As will be perceived, the air is totally different, and probably nothing like so old as the first version. The song is, howeve, more complete. In both copies the words have been no doubt much corrupted in their passage down to our own time.
%,* Since the above was at press, I find that the Rev. S. Baring- Gould has published a version of Henry Martin in his "Songs of the West," with an air different to either of the foregoing.
LORD BATEMAN.
MANY are the airs which have been set to the popular street ballad, " Lord Bateman." Mrs. Holt, of Alderhill, Mean- wood, supplies the following, varying from any of the sets which I have hitherto seen of the tune.
The common version of the words is undoubtedly much corrupted from a very early metrical poem, and there are numberless copies printed in the English and Scottish ballad books, which were formerly current in a traditional form throughout the land. They are all in general much longer than the one now popular, hereunder
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 33
given. The story in all these is of a Christian knight, who sailing into an eastern land is imprisoned, and afterwards released by the daughter of his captor. She afterwards follows him across the seas and arrives at the opportune moment, when the knight, forgetting her who befriended him, is about to wed another lady.
It has been asserted, with every appearance of truth, that the hero of the tale was Gilbert aBecket, father of Saint Thomas aBecket of Canterbury, who in the early times of the Crusades was captured as in the ballad, released, and followed to London by the lady.
She is said to have known no more than two words of English : "Gilbert" and "London," and to have cried the first through London streets until she found her lover. Fanciful as the legend appears, it is supported by the fact that every ballad known on the subject gives the name of the knight as a greater or lesser corruption of Becket. For instance: " Young Bekie," "Lord Beichan," "Lord Bateman," etc.
For the various copies of the ballad in its Scottish form, see Jamieson's Popular Ballads, Kinloch's Scottish Ballads, Mother- well's and Buchan's collections, etc.; a lengthy English version is found in Dixon's Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs, printed for the Percy Society.
The broadside version from Catnach's press is the one remem- bered by Mrs. Holt, and here given.
The various tunes to " Lord Bateman," all different to the follow- ing, are to be found in The Loving Ballad of Lord Bateman (said to be edited by Dickens), illustrated by George Cruikshank ; Northumbrian Minstrelsy, Christie's Traditional Airs, and Sussex Songs.
LORD BATEMAN.
Lord Bateman was a no-ble lord, A no-ble lord of high de-gree ; He put him-
-•- *
self all on a ship, S.ip» foreign eouii • tries he wnuld go see.
34 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
Lord Bateman was a noble Lord,
A noble Lord of high degree ; He put himself all on a ship,
Some foreign countries he would go see.
He sailed east and sailed west,
Until he came to fair Turkey, Where he was taken and put in prison,
Until his life was quite weary.
And in this prison there grew a tree, It grew so stout and it grew so strong,
Where he was chained by the middle, Until his life was almost gone.
The Turk he had an only daughter,
The fairest creature ever my eyes did see ;
She stole the keys of her father's prison,
And swore Lord Bateman she would set free !
" Have you got houses, have you got lands ?
Or does Northumberland belong to thee? What would you give to the fair young lady,
That out of prison would set you free?"
" I have got houses, I have got lands,
And half N orthumberland belongs to me ;
I'll give it all to the fair young lady, That out of prison would set me free."
Oh, then she took him to her father's palace, And gave to him the best of wine,
And every health she drank unto him —
" I wish, Lord Bateman, that you were mine."
" Now, for seven long years, I'll make a vow, For seven long years, and keep it strong,
If you will wed no other woman, That I will wed no other man."
Oh, then she took him to her father's harbour, And gave to him a ship of fame ;
" Farewell, farewell, my dear Lord Bateman, I'm afraid I shall never see you again."
Now, seven long years were gone and past, And fourteen long days well known to me
She packed up her gay clothing, And Lord Bateman she would go see.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 35
And then she came to Lord Bateman's castle,
So boldly now she rang the bell ; "Who's there?" cried the young porter,
" Who's there — now come unto me tell ?"
" Oh, is this Lord Bateman's castle,
And is his Lordship here within ;" " O yes, O yes," cried the proud young porter,
He's just taking his young bride in."
" Oh, then tell him to send me a slice of bread,
And a bottle of the best wine ; And not forgetting the fair young lady,
That did release him when close confined."
Away, away, went that proud young porter,
Away, away, and away went he, Until he came to Lord Bateman's door,
Down on his bended knees fell he.
" What news, what news, my young porter,
What news have you brought unto me?" " There is the fairest of all young ladies,
That ever my two eyes did see.
" She has got rings on every finger,
And round one of them she has got three ; And such gay gold hanging round her middle,
That would buy Northumberland for thee.
" She tells you to send her a slice of bread,
And a bottle of the best wine ; And not forgetting the fair young lady,
That did release you when close confined."
Lord Bateman then in a passion flew,
And broke his sword in splinters three, Saying, " I will give all my father's riches,
If that Sophia has crossed the sea."
Then up spoke this bride's young mother,
Who never was heard to speak so free — " You'll not forget my only daughter,
If Sophia has crossed the sea."
" I own I made a bride of your daughter,
She's neither the better nor worse for me ; She came to me with a horse and saddle,
She may go home in a coach and three,"
36 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
Lord Bateman prepared another marriage, With both their hearts so fulljoffglee ;
" I'll range no more in'foreign countries, Now since Sophia has cross'd the sea. "
BARBARA ALLEN.
FEW ballads have had a more lasting popularity than " Cruel Barbara Allen." The story is common both in England and Ij Scotland, and it may, I have no doubt, be equally well known in Ireland. It is quite needless to say that by the very reason of its being such a favourite there are endless versions of both the song and the tune. The original composition must date from a very early period, but the traditional versions now extant are in general so corrupted as to make a very doleful and pitiable story into that which might provoke more laughter than sympathy.
Early forms of it are found on black letter broadsides, and a mention is made by Pepys in his diary under January 2nd, 1665-6. Speaking of Mrs. Knipp, he says : — " with whom I sang, and in perfect pleasure it was to hear her sing, and especially her little Scotch song of Barbary Allen." Both Scotch and English versions of the ballad are in Percy's Reliques, and the Scotch one in Allan Ramsay's Tea Table Miscellany, 1724.
There are two different tunes to Barbara Allen commonly printed, the one best known first appearing in ChappelFs National English Airs, 1838, and the other being found in Scottish song collections. The earliest copy of this I have seen is in Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Companion, Book II., circa 1750, and after this period, in a small collection of Macgibbon's, It is also in Johnson's Musical Museum, and in later works.
The three tunes, however, here given are, I believe, now for the first time printed, although they have been current in different
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 37
parts of the country for many years. They are quite distinct from any of the airs quoted above.
The first here following, noted down from Mr. Holgate, is from the singing of an English girl in Ghent, some forty years ago, and this version, with a different termination, is heard in the West Riding of Yorkshire.
It is so well known and so easily accessible that is is perhaps not worth while to reproduce the entire words, which are for this setting as in Percy.
BARBARA ALLEN.
tj .0- -m- -9-
In Reading town, where 1 was born, There was a fair maid dwe'.l-ing. Made
— «-i-t:-*:b-:=^:-r-«::t?=^
(Anetker termination.)
-O- day ! Her name was Bar - bara Al • len.
In Reading town, where I was born,
Theie was a fair maid dwelling, Made every youth cry, " Well-a-day !" —
Her name was Barbara Allen. Etc. etc.
The second version is from the Northallerton district, and varies from the usual words. I take the air of this to be of an early date, and when sweetly sung is excellent.
3«
TRADITIONAL TUNRS.
BARBARA ALLEN.
*g
(Second Version.)
InScotlandl was born and bred, Oh ! there it was mydwel-ling; I
court - «d there a pret-tymaid, Oh, her name was Bar bara Al - len.
In Scotland I was born and bred,
O, there it was my dwelling ; I courted there a pretty maid,
O, her name was Barbara Allen.
I courted her in summer time,
I courted her in winter ; For six long years I courted her,
A-thinking I should win her.
The third version of Barbara Allen is, like the preceding, also from the North Riding of Yorkshire, from the singing of Mr. A. Wardill, Goathland.
It has a resemblance to the second set, but lacks in sweetness what the other possesses. I also got the same tune to a similar copy of the ballad ;at Bradford.
BARBARA ALLEN.
-4-— -rr** — -m-\*-^-m-i — i-^j-g 1 m-
(Third Version.)
In Reading town there I was born, In Scot-land w:
; — H--
p~m — i n — \
5lSp 3 #- -^ *
db:
there I courted a prer-ty fair maid, Her name was Bar-
* — «-3
my dwel - ling ; Oh !
■-* — g-y-# \
A! - lea ; Oh !
-sSi
there I coun-ed
pret-ty fair maid, Her name was Baf-bara Al - len.
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
39
In Reading town, there I was born,
In Scotland was my dwelling ; O, there I courted a pretty, fair maid —
Her name was Barbara Allen. O, there I courted, etc.
I courted her for months and years,
Thinking that I should gain her ; And I oft times vowed and did declare
No other man should have her.
I sent a man to yonder town,
To ask for Barbara Allen, Saying, " You must come to my master's house,
If your name be Barbara Allen."
So slowly she put on her clothes,
So slowly she came to him ; And when she got to his bedside,
"Young man," she said, "you're dying."
If you look under my pillow,
You'll find a napkin lying, And it is soaked with my heart's blood,
For the love of Barbara Allen.
He put his hand right out of bed, Thinking to draw her nigh him ;
But she whipped her heels and away she ran, Straightway from him she flew.
So he turned his face unto the wall,
And death came slowly to him ; " Adieu, adieu to all my friends,
Farewell to Barbara Allen."
As she was walking across yon fields, She heard his death-bell tolling,
And every toll it seemed to say — Hard-hearted Barbara Allen.
" O, dear mother, make me my bed,
And make it fit to die on ; There's a young man died for me to-day,
And I'll die for him to-morrow."
4° TRADITIONAL TUNES.
And he did die on one good day,
And she died on the morrow ; O, he did die for the love of her,
And she did die for sorrow.
A comparison with Percy's copy will show how much the above has suffered by being handed down traditionally.
LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ELEANOR. ' I AHE air is different to the printed set, which is first found in -L Sandy's Christmas Carols, 1833, or to the Scottish air, " Lord Thomas and Fair Annet."
The present copy is from the Whitby district, forwarded by a relative of the editor. The words are some of the verses from a rare and old broadside, entitled, A Tragical Ballad of the Unfortu- nate Loves of Lord Thomas and Fair Eleanor, circa 1740. It is the same with a copy which appeared in Old Ballads, 1723. The ballad is an early one, Ritson speaking of it as " having every appearance of a minstrel song." It is found under a Scotch dress in " Lord Thomas and Fair Annet," the story being essentially the same.
LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ELEANOR.
SE
±±ZM
the king's deer; Fair E - lea • nor was
fine wo - man, And Lord Thom-as he lov - ed her dear.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 41
Lord Thomas he was a bold forester,
And a chaser of the king's deer ; Fair Eleanor was a fine woman.
And Lord Thomas loved her dear.
" Come, riddle my riddle, dear mother," he said,
" And riddle us both in one ; Whether I shall marry with sweet Eleanor,
And let the brown girl alone ?"
" The brown girl she has got houses and land,
Fair Eleanor she has got none ; Therefore, I charge thee on my blessing,
Bring me the brown girl home."
And as it befel on a holiday,
As many more do beside, Lord Thomas went to fair Eleanor,
That should have been his bride.
" What news, what news, Lord Thomas ?" she said, "What news hast thou brought to me?"
" I am come to bid thee to my wedding, And that's sad news for thee."
" O, God forbid ! Lord Thomas," she said, That such a thing should ever be done ;
I thought to have been thy bride myself, And thou been the bridegroom."
She clothed herself in gallant attire, And her merry men in green ;
And as she rode through every place, They took her to be some queen.
When she came to Lord Thomas's gate,
She knocked at the ring ; And who was so ready as Lord Thomas,
To let fair Eleanor in.
" Is this your bride ?;: fair Eleanor said, " Methinks she looks wondrous brown ;
Thou might'st have had as fair a woman, As ever trod upon the arround."
42 TRADITIONAL TUN&S.
" Despise her not," Lord Thomas he said,
Despise her not unto me ; For better I love thy little finger,
Than all her whole body."
This brown girl had a little penknife, Which was both keen and sharp,
And betwixt the short ribs and the long, She prick'd fair Eleanor to the heart.
" O Christ, now save me," Lord Thomas he said, " Methinks thou looks wondrous wan ;
Thou us'd to look as good a colour, As ever the sun shone on."
"O, art thou blind, Lord Thomas?" she said, " Or canst thou not very well see ;
O, dost thou not see my own heart's blood, Runs trickling down my knee."
Lord Thomas he had a sword by his side,
As he walked about the hall ; He cut his bride's head from her shoulders,
And flung it against the wall.
He set his sword upon the ground, And the point against his heart ;
There never was three lovers, sure, That sooner did depart.
SCARBOROUGH FAIR.
PARADOXES and riddles frequently have formed the subject of fireside stories and song. " Scarborough Fair" is one of the latter. The original of it is an old ballad (to be found also in Scandinavian folk-song), called " The Elfin Knight." The English versions of this is found on black letter broadsides, and is reprinted in most of the ballad collections. In various parts of the country "Scarborough" Fair becomes " Whittingham " Fair, or any other town the reciter chooses to name that is best known to him. In Cromek's "Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song," 1810,
Traditional tun£s.
43
Allan Cunningham has woven up the song into a lengthy piece called "The Bridegroom Darg."
The present copy, including the tune, used to be sung by a ballad singer in Whitby streets twenty or thirty years ago, and is still re- membered imthe district.
SCARBOROUGH FAIR.
zEjz=S4=zj=i
Oh ! where are
you goinj
33
Eii^i
To Scar
bro' fair,
— 0 — 0 — gfZEJ^iz i -j — q 1— i — , 1-
i_ — , 1_ a.id ^
e
&-
-Sa - vour
rose - ma - ry and thyme : Re - mem
ber
^^^^Bi
iu s that lives there, For once she was a true love of mine.
"O, where are you going?" "To Scarborough fair," Savoury sage, rosemary, and thyme ;
" Remember me to a lass who lives there, For once she was a true love of mine.
" And tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
Savoury sage, rosemary, and thyme, Without any seam or needlework,
And then she shall be a true love of mine.
" And tell her to wash it in yonder dry well,
Savoury sage, rosemary, and thyme, Where no water sprung, nor a drop of rain fell,
And then she shall be a true love of mine.
" Tell her to dry it on yonder thorn,
Savoury sage, rosemary, and thyme, Which never bore blossom since Adam was born,
And then she shall be a true love of thine."
" O, will you find me an acre of land,
Savoury sage, rosemary, and thyme, Between the sea foam, the sea sand,
Or never be a true lover of mine.
44 TRADITIONAL 2UNES.
" O, will you plough it with a ram's horn, Savoury sage, rosemary, and thyme,
And sow it all over with one peppercorn, Or never be*a true lover of mine.
" O, will you reap it with a sickle of leather, Savoury sage, rosemary, and thyme,
And tie it all up with a peacock's feather, Or'never be a true lover of mine.
" And when you have done and finished your work, Savoury sage, rosemary, and thyme,
You may come to'me for your cambric shirt, And then you shall be a true lover of mine."
MY TRUE LOVE ONCE HE COURTED ME.
OF the following song, the plaint of a broken-hearted girl, I have been enabled to obtain four different tunes, all set to separate verses, but I have found great difficulty in getting the entire ballad complete. I at last obtained it from Mr. Halliday, of Newton- dale, in North Yorkshire, along with the first air here'presented.
MY TRUE LOVE ONCE HE COURTED ME.
—A, 13_# — ^_ _j 1>_ ■_#_L_) f>_#_ _* _«.
-w-.
My true love once he court-cd me, And stole a - way my g li - ber- ty ; He stole my heart with my free goodwill, I must confess I love him still.
My true love once he courted me,
And stole away my liberty ; He stole my heart with my free good will,
I must confess I love him still.
There is an alehouse in this town, Where my love goes and sits him down ;
He takes another girl on his knee — O ! isn't that a grief to me.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 45
A grief to me, I'll tell you why —
Because she has more gold than I ; Her gold will waste, her beauty blast,
Poor girl, she'll come like me at last.
O, once I [had no cause for woe],
My love followed me through frost and snow ;
But [ah ! the changes time doth bring] — My love passes by and he says nothing.
I wish my baby it was born,
Set smiling on its nurse's knee ; And I myself was in my grave,
And the green grass growing over me.
I wish, I wish, but it's all in vain,
I wish I were [but free again ; But free again I'll never be],
Till an apple grows on an orange tree.
There is a bird in yon churchyard,
They say it's blind and cannot see ; I wish it had been the same with me,
Ere I joined my true love's company.
The next version of the air I got from the remembrance of Mr. Holgate, and his air is also known by several other Leeds people. It is sung to the second verse,
MY TRUE LOVE ONCE HE COURTED ME.
(Second Version.) i this town Where my love
;oes and sits him down ; He takes an • o - ther one on his
knee: . . . Don't you think that's a grief to me?
46
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
The third and fourth sets are from Mr. Charles Lolley, who heard them sung in his youth near Howden, in the East Riding.
MY TRUE LOVE ONCE HE COURTED ME.
(Third Version.)
Hfc-'H-'g-
q_— 3:
rich young farm
m
=*z=Mi
-\~
'w^^^m
mv heart and li
ber - ty ;
He stole m\* heart with mv
a
£
free good
will,
:~s* a:
must con - fess
him still.
The variation in the first line will be noticed. — "A rich, young farmer courted me." Sometimes it is also sung, "A sailor once he courted me." The fourth set of the air is thus, and is sung to the last verse : — ■
MY TRUE LOVE ONCE HE COURTED ME.
(Fourth Version.)
m:-
There is
a bird
der tree, They
say it is blind and can - not see: I wish it had been the
same with me E
false lo - ver de - ceiv - ed me.
All the above sets are, I believe, early specimens of melody, and are all also very quaint and well suited to the subject of the song. One of the verses has been taken either by the original writer or is an interpolation from the old Scottish song, " O Waly, Waly, up yon Bank,"
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 47
GREEN BUSHES.
IN 1845 Mr. J- B. Buckstone first produced his popular drama, " Green Bushes." There had long been sung, both in England and in Ireland, a ballad bearing this title, and snatches of it were introduced into the play. These fragments were sung by Mrs. Fitzwilliam to an air which was doubtless one of the common tunes for the ballad ; it is to be seen in Duncombe's Musical Casket, and in other collections.
It is quite different, however, to the following air, which is certainly of a much earlier date. I am indebted for it to Mrs. Holt, of Alderhill, Meanwood, v>ho remembers it being sung in Stockport about 1838. I have also many times met with the same air in the North Riding of Yorkshire, but it has not, to my knowledge, been before printed. The ballad sung to this tune is the same (with an additional verse and some slight verbal differences) with the one in the play.
GREEN BUSHES.
f£m*mm^^mm
I was a \va;U - ing one morn - ing in May, To
the birds whis - tie, and see the lambs play,
igE^fej^gjg^^gEl^
-& — =-■— -
spied a young dam - sel, so sweet - ly sang she, Down
by the green hush - es, where she chane'd to meet me.
As I was a walking one morning in May,
To hear the birds whistle and see the lambs play ;
I spied a young damsel, so sweetly sang she,
Down by the green bushes where she chanced to meet me.
4S TRADITIONAL TUNES.
I stept up to her and thus I did say,
" How far are you going to wander this way?"
" I'm in search of my true love," the damsel said she,
" Down by the green bushes, where he vowed to meet me."
" I'll buy you fine beavers and fine silken gowns,
I'll buy you fine petticoats, flounced down to the ground,
If you will prove loyal and constant to me ;
Forsake your own true love and marry with me."
" I want none of your beavers, nor none of your hose, I am not so poor as to marry for clothes, But if you'll prove constant and true unto me, I'll forsake my own true love and marry with thee.
" Come, let us be going, kind sir, if you please,
Come, let us be going from under these trees,
For yonder he's coming, my true love, I see,
Down by the green bushes, where he thinks to meet me."
But when he got there, and found she was gone, He stood like a lambkin that was all forlorn ; " She's gone with some other and forsaken me, Adieu the green bushes for ever," said he.
" I'll be like other schoolboys, spending my time in play, I'll never again be led foolish away, And false-hearted woman shall deceive me no more ; Adieu the green bushes — it's time to give o'er."
Besides the above, on a broadside printed by H. Disley, St. Giles's, is another " Green Bushes," wherein the lady proves true to her lover. In Petrie's Music of Ireland, Vol. II., 1882, an air entitled "Green Bushes" is given, and the ballad set to one also occurs in Songs of the West. Both tunes, however, are quite distinct from the foregoing and from each other; they show that the ballad has had a wide popularity.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 49
THE GOLDEN GLOVE.
THIS has been much sung in all parts of the country. I have been able to obtain two traditional airs to the song. One (the first) popular in the East Riding, from Mr Lolley ; the second from Mrs. Holt.
Christie has the Ballad in his Traditional Ballad Airs, with an air as sung in Scotland, but it has no affinity to either of the following.
THE GOLDEN GLOVE.
(First Version.)
-0—9 ^gj—^a—j -9—9
y young squire of Tam - worth, we hear, He
court-ed a noble-man's daug'i-ter so fair ; And for to mar-ry her it
-^=*-^-^-^ ' V / T
daug'i-ter so fair ; And for to mar-ry her it
-0 « ^-0j-0 0 — 9 **=0J ^~9~'S —
was his in - tent. All friends and re - !a-tions had given their consent.
A wealthy young squire of Tamworth, we hear, He courted a nobleman's daughter so fair ; And for to marry her it was his intent, All friends and relations had given their consent.
The time was appointed for the wedding day,
A young farmer chosen to give her away ;
As soon as the farmer the young lady did spy,
He inflamed her heart ; " O, my heart !" she did cry,
She turned from the squire, but nothing she said, Instead of being married she took to her bed ; The thought of the farmer still run in her mind, A way for to have him she quickly did find.
Coat, waistcoat, and breeches she then did put on, And a hunting she went with her dog and her gun ; She hunted all round where the farmer did dwell, Because in her heart she did love him full well.
50 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
* She oftentimes fired, but nothing she killed, At length the young farmer came into the field ; And to discourse with him it was her intent, With her dog and her gun to meet him she went.
" I thought you had been at the wedding," she cried, " To wait on the squire, and give him his bride ;" " No, sir," said the farmer, " if the truth I may tell, I'll not give her away, for I love her too well."
" Suppose that the lady should grant you her love, You know that the squire your rival will prove ;" " Why, then," said the farmer, " I'll take sword in hand, By honour I'll gain her when she shall command."
It pleased the lady to find him so bold, She gave him a glove that was flowered with gold, And told him she found it when coming along, As she was a hunting with her dog and gun.
The lady went home with a heart full of love, And gave out a notice that she'd lost a glove ; And said, " Who has found it, and brings it to me, Whoever he is, he my husband shall be."
The farmer was pleased when he heard of the news, With heart full of joy to the lady he goes : " Dear, honoured lady, I've picked up your glove, And hope you'll be pleased to grant me your love."
" It's already granted, I will be your bride, I love the sweet breath of a farmer," she cried ; " I'll be mistress of my dairy, and milking my cow, While my jolly brisk farmer is whistling at plough."
And when she was married she told of her fun, How she went a huntiug with her dog and gun : " And now I've got him so fast in my snare, I'll enjoy him for ever, I vow and declare ! "
The second version, from Mrs, Holt, is : —
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 51
THE GOLDEN GLOVE.
(Second Version.)
1 0l-' W * 4 *-*
young squire of Tam- worth, we hear, He
0 — 9—m 0 — 0-L^ — m l {_r
court -ed a no - ble-man's daughter so fair, And for tomar-ry
was his in -tent: All friends and re - la - tions had given their consent.
THE SPINNING WHEEL.
r I ^HE distaff and the spinning wheel were favourite instru- J- ments with song writers of the last century, both English and Scottish.
Among the old Scotch songs we find many domestic ditties of which they are the theme ■ as, " The Rock and the Wee Pickle Tow," " The Weary Pound o' Tow," " The Cardin' O't," etc. The English song makers, however, were much more artificial in taste than the writers of these songs, for, instead of singing of the homely side of the subject, they in general pictured a rustic beauty (to whom they gave a classic name), sitting at her cottage door, her charms making some fine gentleman vow he would forsake his town life to live with her in peaceful retirement.
The present song is from the singing of my grandfather, who must have known it in the last century, and I have never been able to meet with anyone who knew the tune as handed down tradition ally in the family. The words of the song are to be found in D'Urfey's Pills to Purge Melancholy, Vol. II., 17 19, and possibly also in the earlier editions. An air is there given to it which is not the same as this now noted down.
52
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
The song itself is long, so only a portion of the words are heie reprinted.
THE SPINNING WHEEL. -V
a sun - shine, sura- mer's day, When ev - ry tree ws
ililetil*
zfc
qzz=q5zq=:isi
ly cot - tage he
es - pied, Where love - ly Clo
lE£E£
*F^
■— fv
spin-ning sat,
And still she turned her wheel a - bout.
--fV-l Nr-t
lfcg=fc=j
fcrf=:
Upon a sunshine, summer's day, When ev'ry tree was green and gay ; The morning blush'd with Phoebus' ray, Just then ascending from the sea ; As Silvia did a hunting ride, A lovely cottage he espied, Where lovely Cloe, spinning, sat, And still she turned her wheel about.
Her face a thousand graces crown, Her curling hair was lovely brown, Her rolling eyes all hearts did win, And white as down of swans her skin ; So taking her plain dress appears, Her age not passing sixteen years ; The swain lay sighing at her foot, But still she turned her wheel about,
TRADITIONAL TUNES 53
" Thou sweetest of thy tender kind," Cries he, " this ne'er can suit thy mind ; Such grace, attracting noble loves, Was ne'er designed for woods and groves. Come, come with me to Court my dear, Partake my love and honour there, And leave this rural, sordid rout, And turn no more thy wheel about."
At this, with some few modest sighs, She turns to him her charming eyes ; " Ah ! tempt me, sir, no more," she cries, " Nor seek my weakness to surprise ; I know your arts to be believed, I know how virgins are deceived ; Then let me thus my life wear out, And turn my harmless wheel about."
His cunning tongue so played its part, He gained admission to her heart ; And now she thinks it is no sin, To take love's fatal poison in ; But, ah ! too late she found her fault, For he her charms had soon forgot, And left her e'er the year ran out, In tears to turn her wheel about.
THE BANKS OF SWEET DUNDEE.
THIS has been popular in nearly every district in England, and in a number of places in Scotland as well. Though sublime doggrel, the song is even now a great favourite with the old folk who still remember it. Perhaps this is on account of the °-ood air to which the song is set.
For the present copy of the air I am in the first instance obliged to Mr. Benjamin Holgate, of Leeds ; but I have met with the same almost note for note, in Scotland, in North and other parts of Yorkshire, and in Berkshire. Another Yorkshire termination is appended.
54 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
Christie, in Traditional Ballad Airs, gives a set of the air totally different to the one here printed.
The words are frequently met with on broadsides, and the one following the music are from a Catnach ballad sheet.
THE BANKS OF SWEET DUNDEE.
It's of a farm - er's daugh . ter, So beau • ti - ful I'm
told, Her fa - ther died and left her Five hun - dred pound, in
gold. She liv - ed with her un - cie, The cause of all her
-a- 9- • #-2 -•- -m--&-
woe, But you soon shall hear this ma'd-en fair Did prove his o • ver-throw.
(Another termination.)
-#■■ " -«- -#- -0- -&-
woe, And this maid - en fair, as you shall hear, did prove his o - ver-throw.
It's of a farmer's daughter, so beautiful, I'm told,
Her father died and left her five hundred pounds in gold !
She lived with her uncle, the cause of all her woe,
But you soon shall hear, this maiden fair did prove his overthrow.
Her uncle had a ploughboy young Mary loved full well, And in her uncle's garden their tales of love they'd tell ; But there was a wealthy squire who oft came her to see, But still she loved her ploughboy on the banks of sweet Dundee.
Her uncle and the squire rode out one summer's day,
" Young William is in favour," her uncle he did say ;
" Indeed, 'tis my intention to tie him to a tree,
Or else to bribe the press-gang on the banks of sweet Dundee.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 55
The press-gang came to William when he was all alone, He boldly fought for liberty, but there were six to one ; The blood did flow in torrents ; " Pray, kill me now," said he, " I would rather die for Mary on the banks of sweet Dundee."
This maid one day was walking, lamenting for her love,
She met the wealthy squire down in her uncle's grove ;
He put his arms around her ; " Stand off, base man," said she,
"You sent the only lad I love from the banks of sweet Dundee."
He clasped his arms around her and tried to throw her down ; Two pistols and a sword she spied beneath his morning gown ; Young Mary took the pistols and the sword he used so free, But she did fire and shot the squire on the banks of sweet Dundee.
Her uncle overheard the noise, and hastened to the ground,
"O, since you've killed the squire, I'll give you your death wound ;"
"Stand off!" then young Mary said, "undaunted I will be,"
The trigger drew and her uncle slew on the banks of sweet Dundee.
A doctor soon was sent for, a man of noted skill,
Likewise came his lawyer for him to sign his will ;
He left his gold to Mary who fought so manfully,
And closed his eyes no more to rise on the banks of sweet Dundee.
Two verses which are not essential to the story have beea omitted. There is enough tragedy and injured innocence in the ballad to furnish the plot of a penny novelette.
THROUGH THE GROVE.
EARLY in the century, " Through the Grove" used to be sung at villages near Leeds, and I have not been able to hear of the song in any other district. The air is a fine one, and is sung by one singer as a solo, the rest of the company singing the two terminal bars of each strain as chorus.
56
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
THROUGH THE GROVE.
3cq
:<fcd
As through the grove young Johnny did pass, He met Miss Mol - ]y,
-m- -*-* -m-m-m
"Come my lass," And took her by the hand, And took her by the
k
&Ct
2E
i=*i
hand; Says he, " Sweet maid, if you'll a-gree to go to yon-der
rove with me, Oh! there we'll have some se ri-ous talk, We'll take a sweet com-
:±=ta
•- •- ^ -• -•- »
modious walk, And you shall be my bride, And you shall be my bride!"
— As through the grove young Johnny did pass, He met Miss Molly ; " Come, my lass," And took her by the hand.
Chorus. And took her by the hand.
Said he, " Sweet maid, if you'll agree, To go to yonder grove with me, O, there we'll have some serious talk, We'll take a sweet, commodious walk, And you shall be my bride."
Chorus. And you shall be my bride.
This blushing maid made this reply, " I fear young men are gien to lie, I dare not gie consent.
Chorus. I dare not gie consent.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 57
" If through the grove with you I go, And on you should my heart bestow ; When you had found a fairer maid, For her you'd quit me, I'm afraid, And leave me to lament."
Chorus. And leave me to lament.
Ballad writers have always been fond of grandiloquent language, and it is most probable that the charming expression, Commodious walk, has originally stood Umbrageous walk.
The story is told of a farmer lad who at a Methodist Chapel, on the occasion of a new hymn being sung, was observed to join in lustily, although the unfamiliar melody baffled most of the congre- gation. " Tha seemed to knaw t' hymn, lad," said one of them to him. "Hymn?" replied the boy; "Why, I thowt they were all singing 'Through the Grove.'"
COME ALL YE BOLD YOUNG COUNTRYMEN.
A
N air current in Yorkshire, preserved by Mr. Holgate, only a very imperfect fragment of the words being known.
COME, ALL YE BOLD YOUNG COUNTRYMEN.
^^i^plg^g
Come, all ye bold young coun-try-men,A warn-ing talc«
V-
i^rfilfc^E-f?;
^ES^fegpgsEj^a^
58 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
FORTY MILES.
THIS is a good song, and was very popular in Yorkshire in former years. I here print three different sets of the tune, sufficiently alike to show the changes that oral transmission makes in an air. Although it is by no means the same piece, the theme is that with the old Scottish song, " Let me in this ae Night." The tune, of course, bears no affinity to the Scotch one.
The first version following is as it was sung in Leeds and district as Mr. Holgate and others remember it.
FORTY MILES.
It's for - ty miles I've gone to-day, I spied a cot - tage
Which
fore,
It's forty miles I've gone to-day,
I spied a cottage on my way, Which I never had seen before, Which I never had seen before,
I stepped up to that cottage door, A pretty, fair maid tripped o'er the floor, And she cried aloud, "Who's there?" And she cried aloud, "Who's there?"
" My dear, it hails, it rains, it blows, And I've got wet through all my clothes,
And I pray you, let me in,
And I pray you, let me in."
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
59
" Oh, no ! kind sir, that never can be, For there's no one in the house but me,
And I dare not' let you in,
And I dare not let you in."
I turned me round away to go,
When she did sweet compassion bestow,
And she called me back again,
And she called rne back again.
We spent that night in sweet content,
And the very next morning to church we went,
And I made her my lawful bride,
And I made her my lawful bride.
The second version of the air hereunder is from the singing of Mr. A. Wardill, of Goathland, Yorkshire, the words being the same. FORTY MILES.
(Second Version.)
I-
I've been
P
£
1
to - day ; I spied
cot • tage
HS
*EE
ne - ver had seen be - fore,
.... Which 1 ne - ver had seen be - fore.
The third setting is also from Goathland, from Mr. Neswell Pennock's remembrance.
FORTY MILES.
(Third Version)
It's for • ty miles I've been to-day ; I spied a cot - tage by tiie way
mmm^mm^mm
Which I :ie-ver had seen be • fore, . . Which I ne-ver had seen be - fore.
I have never seen the words in print, either on a broadside or elsewhere.
6o TRADITIONAL Tt/NES*
MY VALENTINE.
\/T R L0LLEY suPPlies the tune from the Howden district, ■IV A and the words are found on ballad sheets. The tune is striking, and has a pleasant flow with it, but in some places it appears to have had modern phrasing embodied among the old. It has, however, certainly been in the state it now is for thirty or forty years.
MY VALENTINE.
— V
Oli ! it hap • pafi-ed tc
Oli! it hap-pofi-ed to be one Va - len-tine daj
-SH 1 — sprr
morn - ing so ear - ly be - time, That a prel-ty, pret ty
•S.—0 mj — m — : — i 1 vij p — # — -_i_z\.
maid came to my bed - side, And she want -ed to make me her va-Ien- :, . . . And she want • ed lo make me liei va • len - tine.
O ! it happened to be one Valentine Day,
One morning so early betime, That a pretty, pretty maid came to my bedside,
And she wanted to make me her valentine.
The reader must be content with the first verse ; the whole song is poor doggrel.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 61
THE NIGHTINGALE.
A LSO from Mr. Lolley's singing. The words are but a frag- '**' ment, and we have not been able to recover more than the two verses here presented. The tune is certainly old.
THE NIGHTINGALE.
#v— « — t— 9m— *— A — ktrP am f— — h T^— < — £ — >— I — f
My love was a rich farm-er's son When first my ten - der heart he won ; H:;
H —
love to me he did re - veal I lit - tie thought of the Night in-ijixle
My love was a rich farmer's son, When first my tender heart he won ; His love to me he did reveal, — I little thought of the "Nightingale."
That very night my love was lost,
Appeared to me a deadly ghost,
His hair erect and visage pale —
" Thy love was drown'd in the ' Nightingale.' :
THE GOWN OF GREEN.
AN air, apparently old, sent to me by Mr. Charles Lolley, who heard it many years ago in the East Riding of York- shire. The words are from a broadside. The old English songs have frequent allusions to wearing the "green gown," just in the same manner that the Scotch ones speak of the loss of the snood, and of the " bonny broom."
62
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
THE GOWN OF GREEN.
As my love and I were a walk
q=^— -
m
to view the
i=F==-T[-] I-t—I— i
sweet flow-
as they sprung from the ground,
-±=t=:
She turned her
^li^i^lP^
head and smi - ling said : " Some - bo • dy here
has
lie^s!^!
=r
=t
been,
Or else
some charm
ing shep
herd-
the Gown
Green/
As my love and I were walking to view the meadows around, A-gathering sweet flowers as they sprung from the ground, She turned her head, and smiling, said, " Somebody here has been, Or else some charming shepherdess has won the Gown of Green."
" O, Polly, love ! O, Polly, love ! mind what I write to thee, And when that you do read it 'twill cause you many a tear ; 'Twill cause you many tears, my love, and grieve your heart full sore, For to relate our story when we left our native shore.
" It was early the next morning, all by the dawn of day, From New York down to Imos we all did march away ; From New York down to Imos we all did march away, To fight our own relations in North America.
" Thro' fields of blood we ranged, while cannons loud did roar, And many a valiant sailor lay bleeding in his gore ; There was many a valiant sailor who on the deck did lay, Who was both killed and wounded in North America.
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
63
" It would grieve your heart with pity for to hear the sailors' wives Lamenting for their husbands, and the melancholy cries, The children cried out, ' Mammy, we will make them rue the day, As they did kill my father in North America.' "
This delectable effusion is found upon broadsides, and also in a very scarce song book (small quarto in size), entitled, The Vocal Library, dated 18 18. The song seems to have been an old one, with verses produced at the time of the last American war grafted on.
THE FARMER'S BOY.
EVEN now the popularity of "The Farmer's Boy," is great among country singers. Few, however, sing the song to the same air, and at least two different airs, said to be traditional ones, ) are to be fouud published in modern sheet music. The three airs here presented, however, differ widely from these printed copies^ 0 The first from Mrs. Holt>, of Alderhill, learned many years ago on the borders of Lancashire and Yorkshire, is thus : —
THE FARMER'S BOY.
•L J — EFqg: — *-*-* * — # -'-ii-Jr1
The sun was sunk be - hind yon hill, A - cross yon drear • y
f=I=J=*
9^9
tfa
~K
-•-Lfl — 0—0 — j-tq. J
moor, When poor and lame a boy there came Up to
farm • er's door.
pi^^SSs^PB
i~i-~-9f-
can find em-
-0—0 CH i?
• ploy. To plough and sow, to reap and mow, And be a farm • er's boy.
64 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
The sun had set behind yon hills,
Across yon dreary moor ; When poor and lame, a boy there came
Up to a farmer's door : " Can you tell me if here it be
That I can find employ, To plough and sow, and reap and mow,
And be a farmer's boy?
" My father is dead, and mother is left
With five children, great and small ; And what is worse for mother still,
I'm the oldest of them all. Though little, I'll work as hard as a Turk,
If you'll give me employ, To plough and sow and reap and mow
And be a farmer's boy.
" And if that you won't me employ,
One favour I've to ask, — Will you shelter me, till break of day,
From this cold winter's blast? At break of day, I'll trudge away
Elsewhere to seek employ, To plough and sow, and reap and mow,
And be a farmer's boy."
"Come, try the lad," the mistress said,
" Let him no further seek ;" " O, do, dear father ! " the daughter cried,
While tears ran down her cheek ; " He'd work if he could, so 'tis hard to want food,
And wander for employ ; Don't turn him away, but let him stay,
And be a farmer's boy."
And when the lad became a man,
The good old farmer died, And left the lad the farm he had,
And his daughter for his bride. The lad that was, the farm now has,
Oft smiles, and thinks with joy, Of the lucky day he came that way,
To be a farmer's boy.
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
65
The second air, from the recollection of Mr. Holgate, of Leeds, appears to lack one of the strains of the melody, and to have been I [a variation of the above.
THE FARMER'S BOY.
(Second Version.)
The sun was sunk behind yon hill, A-cross yon dreary moor, When,
poor and lame, a boy there came Up to a farm • er's door.
The third setting is from the East Riding of Yorkshire, favoured me by Mr. C. Lolley.
TF^ FARMER'S BOY.
( Third Vei sion. )
te
The sun
-d — *J-d-
was sunk be - hind yon hill, A - cross yon
P
drear
moor, When, poor and lame, a boy there
came Up
-d-
farm - er's
door ; " Can you tell me," said
-0—9- P
gin;
:ti-d=::
he,
"if a - ny there be That can
53
G-
E3E3
3K
ploy:
To plough, and sow, and
ZW.Z and
=i4s
p
se
j — «-
1^
Aad be
(arm
.id.
b»yi"
66 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
It is noticeable, that while the melodies have such variations, the words themselves are fixed.
They were first published in a collection in Dixon's Songs of the Peasantry of England.
YOUNG ROGER OF THE VALLEY.
YOUNG Roger of the Valley is from the singing of Mrs. Holt, of Alderhill, Meanwood.
The song itself is an old one, and a version of it is printed in Allan Ramsay's Tea Table Miscellany, Vol. IV, and in The Robin, 1749.
On early ballad sheets it is entitled, "Roger of the Vale." Ramsay's version commences : —
Young Roger of the mill,
One morning very soon, Put on his best apparel,
New hose and clouted shoon ; And he a-wooing came,
To bonny, buxom Nell, " Dear lass," cries he, " could'st fancy me,
I like thee wondrous well."
The air here given is certainly of last century origin, but is probably not the original one, for in Daniel Wright's Second Book of the Flute Master Improved, circa 17 15, there is an air most likely intended for the ballad entitled, "Roger of the Vale," but which has not the slightest resemblance to the traditional version here printed.
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
67
YOUNG ROGER OF THE VALLEY.
Young Ro
get of the val - ley, one morn - ing ve
-pa
1 *-*-«-M ■ — £EE F — be :
Put on his gay ap - par - el, Like - wise his Sun - day
r0 0 #-r -F-x-# ■-T_X
shoon, And he would go a court - ing To bon - ny bux - om
Nell. " Ad-zooks !" cried he, "canst fan - cy me, For 1
&p=== :iLZ=^£i=p= ^i_#_ VJ -Sr=zz
• # ^-1-1 IC *— C^p
like
thy per - son well, For 1 like thy per - son well."
Young Roger of the valley,
One morning very soon, Put on his gay apparel,
Likewise his Sunday shoon ; And he would go a-courting,
To bonny, buxom Nell, "Adzooks!" cried he, "can'st fancy me,
For I like thy person well.
" My horses I have dress'd,
And gi'en them corn and hay, Put on my best apparel,
And have come this way ; Let's sit and chat a while,
With thee, my bonny Nell ; Dear lass," cries he, "could'st fancy me,
I like thee wondrous well."
'• Young Roger, you're mistaken,"
The damsel then reply'd, " Pm^not in such a haste
To be a ploughman's bride ;
68 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
Know I then live in hopes,
To marry a farmer's son ;" " If it be so," says Hodge, " I'll go,
Sweet mistress, I have done."
"Your horses you have dress'd,
Good Hodge, I heard you say, Put on your best apparel,
And being come this way ;"
" O no, indeed, not I, I'll neither wait, nor sit, nor prate,
I've other fish to fry.
" Go, take your farmer's son,
With all my honest heart ; What tho' my name be Roger,
That goes at plough and cart? I need not tarry long,
I soon may gain a wife : There's buxom Joan, it is well known,
She loves me as her life."
" Pray, what of buxom Joan ?
Can't I please you as well? For she has ne'er a penny,
And I am buxom Nell ; And I have fifty shillings."
(The money made him smile) " O then, my dear, I'll draw a chair,
And chat with thee a while."
Within the space of half-an-hour,
This couple a bargain struck, Hoping that with their money,
They both would have good luck ; "To your fifty I've forty,
With which a cow we'll buy ; We'll join our hands in wedlock bands,
Then who but you and I ?"
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 69
THE SPRIG OF THYME.
THE air is an East Riding one, which Mr. Lolley favours me with. There are several ballads extant in the same strain of allegory. The better known one, " I Sowed the Seeds of Love," is an instance ; they appear to date from the latter end of the last century.
The tune is pretty, and, I think, is not much corrupted from its original form.
THE SPRIG OF THYME.
Come, all you pret - ty fair maids That are just in your prime, I
would have you weed your gar • dens clear, And let no one steal your thyme.
Come, all you pretty fair maids,
That are just in your prime ; I would have you weed your garden clear,
And let no one steal your thyme.
I once had a sprig of thyme,
It prospered both night and day ;
By chance there came a false young man, And he stole my thyme away.
Thyme is the prettiest flower,
That grows under the sun ; It's time that brings all things to an end,
So now my thyme runs on.
But now my old thyme's dead,
I've got no room for any new, For in that place where my old thyme grew,
Is changed to a running rue.
It's very well drinking ale,
And it's very well drinking wine, But it's far better sitting by a young man's side,
That has won this heart of mine.
70 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
THE SPOTTED COW.
THIS is a pretty rustic song, and both the following airs are, I think, pleasing. The first version is given to me by Mr. Charles Lolley, and is thus : —
THE SPOTTED COW.
(First Version.)
One morn-ing in the month of May, As from ray cot I strayed, Just
^r<_-# -9-
at the dawn-ing of the day, I met a charm-ing maid; lust
at the dawn - ing of the day I met a charm-ing maid.
One morning in the month of May,
As from my cot I strayed, Just at the dawning of the day,
I met a charming maid.
" Good mornin?, fair maid, whither," said I,
"So early? tell me, now ;" The maid replied, " Kind sir," she said,
" I've lost my spotted cow."
" No more complain, no longer mourn,
Your cow's not lost, my dear, I saw her down in yonder bourne ;
Come, love, I'll show you where."
" I must confess you're very kind,
I thank you, sir," said she ; " You will be sure her there to find,
Come, sweetheart, go with me."
Then to the grove we did repair,
And crossed the flow'ry dale ; We hugg'd and kiss'd each other there,
And love was all our tale.
1 RADII IONAL TUNES. 71
And in the grove we spent the day,
And thought it passed too soon ; At night we homeward bent our way,
When brightly shone the moon.
If I should cross the flow'ry dale,
Or go to view the plough, She comes and calls, " Ye gentle swains,
I've lost my spotted cow."
The second setting of the song was sent to me by an anonymous contributor from Calverley, near Leeds.
THE SPOTTED COW.
(Second Version.)
:rf±=t±=2BS»3ra^3^3?
fcHFENfe
y:
±zz*
One morn - in£ in the month of May, As from my cot I stray - ed, Just
0
the dawn - ing of the day I met a charm-ing
The words are found on broadsides, and are also in Fairburri's Everlasting Songster, circa 1825. Both words and tunes appear to be of about the beginning of the century.
M
THE GOOSE AND THE GANDER. ANY years ago, this used to be a favourite song round about Leeds, though a very silly one. It must claim the indul- gence of the reader more upon the merit of the air than that of the words. Before railways and cheap trips acted as general diffusers of London music hall songs, such like ditties in country districts were common in the kitchens of quiet publichouses, and were in general the exclusive copyright of old fogies who gathered there.
72 TRADIT1 'DNAL TUNES.
The air is from an old manuscript collection of airs in my possession. It appeared in a series of articles upon old tunes contributed by me to the Leeds Mercury Weekly Supplement ; otherwise, it has not been in print so far as I am aware.
THE GOOSE AND THE GANDER.
O ! the goose and the gan-der walk'd o - ver the green, O ! the goose she went bare-foot for fear nf being seen. lor fear of being seen, boys, for
3 -i-Jfc^^^i^fctzr^: E==t5 i^ESSS
-• 0
-**-
!*=£:
tear of being seen ; O! the goose she went bare • foot for fear ot being seen.
O, the goose and the gander went over the green, O, the goose she walked barefoit for flay'd o being seen, For flay'd o' being seen, boys, for flay'd o' being seen, And the goose she went barefoit for flay'd o' being seen.
I had a black hen and shoo had a white foit, And shoo laid an egg in a willow tree roit ; In a willow tree roit, in a willow tree roit, And shoo laid a white egg in a willow tree roit.
I need scarcely say that this delightful production would be sung only after a certain stage of conviviality had been reached.
THREE MAIDENS A MILKING DID GO.
THIS air my friend, Mr. Holgate, remembers being sung in and about Leeds. If not very old it is good, and it could be wished that the succeeding verses to the first (the only one which I have printed), were equally meritorious and more suitable for this work.
TRADITIOXAL TUNES. 73
THREE MAIDENS A MILKING DID GO.
■ens a milk-ing did go, Three maidens a milk-ing did go ; The
wind it blew high, And the wind it blew low, And it blew these three maidens to and bo.
Three maidens a milking did go,
Three maidens a milking did go ; The wind it blew high, and the wind it blew low,
And it blew these three maidens to and fro.
COLIN AND PHCEBE.
WITH the few remaining old-fashioned singers in country places, songs of the type of " Colin and Phoebe " are still favourites. They are a survival of the school of fashionable music and song when Mr. Lampe and Dr. Arne composed, and when Mr. Beard and other singers delighted Vauxhall audiences with these composers' productions. " Colin and Phoebe" used to be sung in Yorkshire, and on the Lancashire and Cheshire borders, in the correct old-fashioned style. It being " A Dialogue," a male and female singer took their respective parts, one as Colin and the other as Phcebe, and put as much archness and tenderness into their performance as the part warranted.
The first set of the air Mrs. Holt remembers being sung in Stockport, about fifty years ago, as follows : —
74
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
COLIN AND PHCEBE.
ii^^fe^tiEE^^^
(First Version.)
:d= rati
Well met, ray dear-est Phoebe ; Oh ! why in such haste Thro' the
a==-e
woods and the mea-dows All day have I chased? In the search of my
v — -0-0- *
fair one, Who does me dis • dain
But I hope you'll re-
-•- -0- u*«.
ward me For all my long pain ;
hope you'll re ■ ward me For all my long
"Well met, my clearest Phoebe, O ! why in such haste ? Thro' the woods and the meadows all day have I chased, In the search of my fair one, who does me disdain ! But I hope you'll reward me for all my long pain."
" Go, go, boldest Colin, how dare you be seen, With a virgin like me that is scarcely sixteen ? To be seen all alone with a man, I'm afraid, This world will soon call me no longer a maid."
" Never mind what the world says, it shall all prove a lie We are not alone, there's a cottage hard by ; Let them judge of our actions, be cheerful, my dear, For no harm is intended to my Phoebe, I swear."
" Go, go, boldest Colin, you shall say what you will, You mayflie, swear, or jflatter, and try your best skill ; But before I'll be conquer'd, I'd have you to know, I'll first die a virgin, so pray let me go."
" O, Phcebe, my charmer ! such thoughts I ne'er had, I came for to see if to-morrow you'd wed ; But since you so slight me, I'll bid you adieu, I'll go seek some other girl kinder than you."
-ct-
pain.
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
75
" Stay, stay, dearest Colin, a few moments stay,
I will venture to wed if you mean what you say ;
Let to-morrow first come, love, in church you will find
That the lass you thought cruel will always prove kind."
The second setting was noted down for me by Mr. Lolley from East Riding singers.
COLIN AND PHCEBE.
Well met, pret-ty Phcebe ;
(Second Version.)
±B=£3
Oh! why in such haste Through the
t=F3&&m
«=j=a=§
fields and the mea - dows All day have
" d-r-a 1 — I — i . 1 a 4
search of my fair one, Who does me dis - dain ! But 1 hope you'll re
ward me For all my pa^t pain.
my past pain.
It is singular to turn from these two traditional versions to the original, which I had the good fortune to recently find in a folio musical publication of twenty-four pages, entitled, Ihe New Ballads sung by Mr. Lowe and Miss Stevenson at Vauxhall, set by Mr. Worgan, Book the 4th, 1755. London : Jn. Johnson.
It is in this work called " Corydon and Phoebe : a Dialogue," and, although the air differs considerably from either of the foregoing sets, the words have come down to us almost as correctly as the original
76
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
CORYDON AND PH^BE.
A DIALOGUE, sung by Mr. Lowe and Miss Stevenson. Set by Mr. Wokgan, 1755.
Well met, dear-est Pha; - be ; Ah ! why in such haste The woods and the
mea • dows All day have I trac'd? In search of my fair one. Then,
gggiig^glggaigggg
no - thing re - mains But she
to
ward me For all my past \-7-=# — ^*"«r-
But she to re - ward me For all my past pains.
Corydon — Well met,;dearest Phaebe, ah ! why in such haste ? The woods and the meadows all day have I trac'd, In search of my fair one, then nothing remains, But she to reward me for all my past pains.
Phcebe — Why, how now, bold Corydon, what do you mean, Should a damsel like me, just turned of nineteen, Be seen all alone with a man ? I'm afraid, The world would soon think me no longer a maid.
Corydon — Let 'em think as they please, 'twill all prove a lye, You are not alone, for chaste Cynthia is by ; She'll judge of our actions, then drive away fear, No harm is intended to Phaebe, my dear.
Phcebe — No, no, sublime swain, you may say what you will, Kneel, lye, swear, and flatter, and try all your skill ; Before I'll be cozen'd, I'd have you to know, I'll die first a virgin, so pray let me go.
Corydon — Why, Phaebe, such thoughts I ne'er had in my head, I meant but to know if to-morrow you'd wed ; But since you won't hear me, I'll bid you adieu, And find out some other that's kinder than you.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 77
Phcebe — Return, gentle shepherd, a few moments stay, I'll venture to yield if you mean what you say ; Let to-morrow then come, at church you shall find, That she you think cruel yet still may be kind.
It is somewhat amusing to note the change of the word Cynthia to cottage; the first-named being doubtless an incomprehensible expression to most of the singers of the song.
MARY ACROSS THE WILD MOOR.
I AM in the first instance indebted for the air to this to Mr. Holgate's memory ; but I have found that the song is known in the North and Elast Ridings to the same tune. Both air and song appear to be not much earlier than the beginning of the present century.
It is often seen on ballad sheets of this and of later date. MARY OF THE MOOR.
-9- -•- • , , It was one win-ter's night, when the wind It blew bit - ter a -cross the bleak
moor, Whan poor Ma-ry she came with her Ghild,WantlVing home toherown fathei 's .ioor
It was one winter's night, when the wind
It blew bitter across the bleak moor, When poor Mary she came with her child,
Wand'ring home to her own father's door.
She cried — " Father, O pray, let me in, Do come down and open your own door,
Or the child at my bosom will die, With the wind that blows on the wild rnoor.
78 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
' Why ever did I leave this cot, Where once I was happy and free,
Doomed to roam without friend or a home, O ! father have pity on me.''
But her father was deaf to her cry,
Not a voice nor a sound reached the door,
But the watch dog's bark and the wind That blew bitter across the wild moor.
Now, think what her father he felt, When he came to the door in the morn,
And found Mary dead, and her child
Fondly clasped in its dead mother's arms.
Wild and frantic he tore his grey hairs, As on Mary he gazed at the door,
Who on the cold night there had died, By the wind that blew on the wild moor.
Now, her father in grief pined away, The poor child to its mother went soon,
And no one lived there to this day, And the cottage to ruin has gone.
The villagers point to the cot
Where a willow droops over the door,
They cry out there poor Mary died,
With the wind that blew o'er the wild moor.
THE GREY MARE.
THE following was first obtained from my mother, who heard the song sung at Otley, in Yorkshire, about the year 1826-27. I have since found it is also current among old people in other parts of the country.
Mr. Lolley sends me the air as an elderly relative of his had heard it sung in the East Riding. I also find by a copy of the song to a different air, in Songs of the West, that it is known in the West of England,
TRADITIONAL TUNES 79
The East Riding version is ; —
THE GREY MARE.
Young Ro-per, the mil-ler, lie court-ed of late A farmer's fair daughter called
plipgllillliiii^lll
Beau • ti - ful Kate, For she to her for-tune had five hun-dred pounds, Be-
— — 0—^—0 — * 4^r# —&— 0—/ ™ * 0-
side rings and jew - els, Be - side rings and jew -els and ma - ny fine gowns.
Young Roger the miller he courted of late, A farmer's fair daughter called beautiful Kate ; For she to her fortune had five hundred pounds, Besides rings and jewels, and many fine gowns.
This glittering money, and beauty likewise,
It tickled his fancy and dazzled his eyes ;
Which caused young Roger to tell his mind,
Unto his own true love that proved constant and kind.
The day being appointed, the money paid down,
It was a fine fortune was five hundred pounds ;
" But," says he, " though your daughter be charming and fair,
I won't have your daughter without the grey mare."
" Oh then," says the farmer, " there's nothing the worse, My money can soon be put back in my purse ;" So the money was banished right out of his sight, And so was Miss Kitty his joy and delight.
And Roger, that rascal, was turned out of door, They bade him be sure for to come there no more ; Which caused young Roger for to tear his hair, And?wish he had never stood for the grey mare.
8o TRADITIONAL TUNES.
Then about two years after, or a little above, Young Roger he met with Miss Kitty his love ; When smiling, said Roger, " Why don't you know me ?" " If I arn't mistaken I've seen you," said she ;
" For a man in your likeness with long yellow hair, Did once come a courting my father's grey mare." " Oh no," said young Roger, " it's that I'll disclaim, For it was unto you that a courting I came."
" Oh no," says Miss Kitty, " I'll also deny,
And the truth of the matter I will testify,
For unto my father you did solemnly swear,
You would not have his daughter without the grey mare."
I am indebted for another copy of the words to a correspondent, Mr. C. Butteriss, who informs me that his copy is from Leicester- shire. It is so similar to Mr. Lolley's version, that it is only here reproduced in order to show the general accuracy of oral tradition in transmitting such things down to our own time.
THE GREY MARE.
(Second Version of the Words)
Young Roger the miller he courted of late, A farmer's gay daughter called beautiful Kate ; She had to her fortune some five hundred pounds, Besides handsome jewels and many fine gowns ; She had to her portion both jewels and rings, She had to her portion a many fine things.]
The glittering money, and beauty likewise, Did tickle his fancy and dazzle his eyes ; Which caused young Roger for to tell his mind, And unto his lover be constant and kind ; That no other woman should ere be his bride, For thou art my jewel, my jewel and pride.
1 RADII TONAL TUNES. 81
The wedding made ready, the money put down,
A very fine portion, just five hundred pounds ;
"If there is nothing more that falls to my share,
I will not have your daughter without the grey mare ;
If there is nothing more that falls to my share,
I will not have your daughter without the grey mare."
The old farmer made answer unto him with speed,
" Well, I thought you'd have married my daughter indeed ;
But as it so happens my daughter's no worse,
And the money again shall go into my purse ;
But as it is so with you I solemnly swear,
You shall not have my daughter nor yet the grey mare.'
Then Roger, that rascal, was turned out of door,
And bid to begone and come there no more ;
Then Roger he tore his locks of long hair,
And he wished he'd never staid for the grey mare ;
Then Roger he tore his locks of long hair,
And he wished he'd never staid for the grey mare.
In six months hereafter, or something above,
He chanced for to meet with sweet Kitty his love ;
Then smiling, said Roger, " Why don't you know me ? "
" Well, if I'm not mistaken, I've seen you," said she,
" Or one very like you with long yellow hair,
Did once come a courting my father's grey mare."
Then smiling, said Roger, " You are much to blame,
For it was unto you that a courting I came ;
I thought your old father would make no dispute,
In giving his daughter and the grey mare to boot ;
But now he has lost a most dutiful son,
And I'm very sorry for what I have done."
" Oh ! as to thy sorrows I value them not,
For there's plenty of men in this world to be got ;
There's not many young men when at the last fair,
Does marry a wife for the sake of a mare ;
For the price of a mare is not very great,
So fare thee well, Roger, go, man, to thy fate."
82 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
ROBIN TAMSON'S SMIDDY.
THE words of this song are well known to Scotchmen, and united to the tune it is frequently heard at convivial meet- ings. Though so popular, I have never been able to hear of a copy of this air being in print ; it has a similarity to the well-known one, entitled, " The Drummer ; " or, "The Piper o' Dundee," but it cannot by any means be said to be the same with it. There is reason to believe that the original name for the present tune of " Robin Tamson's Smiddy," is " Corn Clips," as it was to this tune that Alexander Rodgers (who wrote the words) adapted them. The song " Corn Clips " commenced with the same first line that Rodgers' song does ; but as it was an old ditty, having more humour than delicacy, it is not now known, and possibly never got further into print than on broadsides.
" Robin Tamson's Smiddy " is excellent as a humorous song ; it appeared in the third series of Whistle-Binkie, 1842, under the title I" My Auld Breeks, air, The Corn Clips."
ROBIN TAMSON'S SMIDDY.
N* c
My mith-er men't my auld breeks. And wow ! but they were dud-dy ; And
fcg^fe&B
sent me to get Mai - ly shod At Rob - in Tam-son's smid - dy. The -P-fi — a-T — \* B 9 9-9 0- -m— — 9—m - — I 1 r-l-
smiddy stands be sides the burn, That wimples through the clachan,
— *- — jji^-a-T— as— T-— ^ — n S> — n *> T2 » — »
-9 — I— .- — v
D-
gf. -UJ- -g- -0-
ne-ver yet gae oy the door, But, aye ! I fa a laugh - ing.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 83
My mither men't my auld breeks,
An' wow ! but they were duddy, And sent me to get Mally shod
At Robin Tamson's smiddy ; The smiddy stands besides the burn
That wimples through the clachan, I never yet gae by the door,
But aye I fa' a-laughin'.
For Robin was a walthy carle,
An' had ae bonnie dochter, Yet ne'er wad let her tak a man,
Tho' mony lads had sought her ; But what think ye o' my exploit ?
The time our mare was shoeing, I slippit up beside the lass,
And briskly fell a-wooing.
An' aye she e'ed my auld breeks,
The time that we sat crackin', Quo' I, " My lass, ne'er mind the clouts,
I've new anes for the makin'; But gin ye'll just come hame wi' me,
An' lea' the carle, your father, Ye'se get my breeks to keep in trim,
Mysel, an' a' thegither."
" 'Deed, lad," quo' she, " your offer's fair,
I really think I'll tak' it, Sae gang awa', get out the mare,
We'll baith slip on the back o't ; For gin I wait my father's time,
I'll wait till I be fifty ; But na ! — I'll marry in my prime,
An' mak' a wife most thrifty."
Wow ! Robin was an angry man,
At tyning o' his dochter ; Thro' a' the kintra-side he ran,
An' far an' near he sought her ; But when he cam' to our fire-end,
An' fand us baith thegither, Quo' I, "Gudeman, I've ta'en your bairn,
An' ye may tak' my mither."
84 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
Auld Robin girn'd an' sheuk his pow,
" Guid sooth !" quo' he, "you're merry, But I'll just tak' ye at your word,
An' end this hurry-burry.'' So Robin an' our auld wife
Agreed to creep thegither ; Now, I hae Robin Tamson's pet,
An' Robin has my mither.
HIGHLAND MARY.
WHEN Burns wrote his song, " Highland Mary," he adapted it to the old air, katherine Ogie, to which it is now always found united. It was first published with the music in George Thomson's collection, and Burns in a letter to this gentleman, dated November 14th, 1792, mentions what poor stuff the song, Katherine Ogie, is, and how fruitlessly he has tried to mend it, but thinks that the enclosed — Highland Mary — "is in his happiest manner," etc.*
The air which is here printed is not Katherine Ogie, but one (and a very sweet one) which was sung early in the present century in the streets of Leeds to Burns' verses.
It is apparently Scottish, but a very diligent search through Scottish music collections has failed to bring any tune resembling it to light. The air is from the singing of my mother, and is also remembered by another elderly lady. They sang to it two traditional verses (which are certainly not by Burns), these I have met with on a broadside copy of the song. Burns' verses are so well known that they do not need repetition, and are here omitted save the first ; the additional ones follow it.
*As Burns says, the original song, Katherine Ogie, is poor stuff. In its first form it is found in The Merry Musician, or a Cure for the Spleen, 1716, and afterwards in Ramsay's Tea Table Miscellany. Previously, however, two versions are found in D'Urfey's Pills, Vol. II. and VI., 1719, as Bonny Katherine Loggy, and in 1686 the tune is in Playford's Dancing Master, as Lady Catherine Ogle, a New Pance,
7RADTTI0NAL TUNES. 85
HIGHLAND MARY.
Ye banks, and braes, and streams a-round The Cas - tie o Mom-
g=i=ii=s^^=i
-9-
9- -•-
gom - er - y, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, \ our
1 — + — ^ — ^-H-^ — a^-fl--— T-; — ^ — F — =^-
wa - ters ne - ver drum - lie ; There sim - mer first
§i§Iii=§
fauld her robes, And there the Ian - gest tar - ry ; For
W^1 ^-»-*-f-^^-^-*-g=g1T-v--^-g-^-s) — >
there 1 took my last fare-well of my sweet High-land Ma - ry.
Ye banks and braes and streams around
The castle o' Montgomery, Green be your woods and fair your flowers,
And your waters never drumlie ; There, simmer first unfald her robes,
And there the langest tarry, For there I took the last farewell
O' my sweet, Highland Mary.
All in the silent hour of night,
Through the green churchyard I'll wander, Right hearty well I know the spot,
Where Mary she lies under ; I'll weep it o'er with silent grief,
I'll sit and ne'er be weary, For pleasure there is none for me,
Without sweet, Highland Mary.
86
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
And round sweet Highland's Mary's grave, '
I'll plant the fairest lily, The primrose sweet, and violet blue,
Likewise the daffodilly ; But since the world is grown so wild,
In the wilderness I'll tarry ; Come welcome death, thou friend true,
I'll sleep with Highland Mary.
The following is the East Riding version of " Highland Mary," which will be perceived is but a variation from the foregoing set. Mr. Lolley noted it down from his mother's singing.
HIGHLAND MARY.
(Second Version.)
p— l W®-*-^—1— •«*! — «*«» — ' Ll «■««•! L
>' Mont
m
Ye banks and braes, and streams a - round The cas - tie o' Mont-
u v
"£
-»-—
-gom - e - ry, Green be your woods and fair your flowers, Your wa - ters
ry ; For there I took the
EjEE3=^=S-d=3
_p_r e g
last fare - weel O' my sweet High - land Ma
THE BREWER LADDIE.
THE air for this ballad was communicated to me by my friend, Mr. Washington Teasdale, who heard it with a fragment of the words something like forty years ago, at a harvest-home supper at Brough, in Westmoreland.
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
87
Since Mr. Teasdale gave me the air, I have found the whole ballad in a reprinted old Glasgow chap book, the original dating perhaps from the last century. The air appears of fairly early date, but is more suggestive of an English military marching tune than that to a Scottish ballad. One can almost fancy the shrill notes of the fifes ringing in the ears.
The air was contributed by me to the Leeds Mercury Weekly Supplement, in a series of articles entitled Old Tunes.
THE BREWER LADDIE.
n=±za=3f3qK=5§
m-&-\ L« — -j — j — •— «J
ESSS*
-•— •
In Perth there liv'd a bon - ny lad, A brew - er to his trade — O, And
^-^—Nz?-
he has court-ed Peg-gy Roy, A young and a hand-some maid — O.
^D1" 'A\ ,' jl
m- -m- -0 -4- -#-
qK
With a Fol dol did - die, &c.
-J, V . -*
^E^
In Perth there lived a bonny Jad,
A brewer to his trade, O ; And he has courted Peggy Roy,
A young and a handsome maid, O. With a fol dol diddle, etc.
He courted her for seven long years,
All for to gain her favour ; But there came a lad out of Edinburgh town,
Who swore that he would have her.
" O, wilt thou go along with me,
O, wilt thou go, my honey, And wilt thou go along with me,
And leave your own dear Johnnie?"
" O yes, I'll go along with you, And along with you I'll ride, O ;
I'll range with you the wide world o'er, Tho' I'm to be the brewer's bride, O."
88 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
The brewer he came home at e'en,
Inquiring for his honey, Her father he made this reply :
" I've ne'er seen her since Monday."
" Be it not, or be it so,
Little does it grieve me ; I'm a young man free, as you can see,
And a small thing will relieve me.
"There is as good fish in the sea
As ever yet were taken, I'll cast my net once o'er again,
Altho' I am forsaken."
She's rambled up, she's rambled down, She's rambled through Kirkaldy,
And many's the time she's rued the day She forsook her brewer laddie.
The brewer he set up in Perth, And often brewed strong ale, O ;
And he has courted a bonny lass, And taken her to his sel', O.
" Ye lover's all, wher'er ye be, By me now take a warning,
And never slight your ain true love, For fear ye get a waur ane."
THE BANKS OF CLAUDY.
IN Bunting's Ancient Music of Ireland, 1840, there is an air entitled, " Banks of Claudy," which Bunting noted down from a harper named Higgins, in 1792, and it is stated to be a very ancient Irish air ; no words are given. It is very doubtful whether it has ever been fitted to the ballad here printed; but in Christie's Traditional Ballad Airs another Banks of Claudy is published, which was obtained from a singer in the North of Scotland, and with the words nearly the same as the version I print.
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
89
The present copy of the song and air I obtained from the singing of a girl in Dumfriesshire, and the tune is totally distinct from either Bunting's or Christie's sets. I am afraid, however, that there is one strain of the melody missing. I can, however, but print the fragment as I have heard it.
The words are supplemented from a London broadside copy.
THE BANKS OF CLAUDY.
'Twas on one sum-mer's morn - ing, All in the month of May, Down
.11 in the month of May, Down Bet - sy did stray, I
* ■&- -*- -#■ #■•
by yon flow- 'ry gar • den Where Bet
P§§
— 1- -<S>-
o - ver - heard a dam - sel In sor - row to corn-plain : All
m^:
i
bfei!
for her ab - sent lo - ver Who ploughs the ra - ging main.
'Twas on one summer's morning, all in the month of May, Down by yon flow'ry garden, where Betsy did stray ; I overheard a damsel in sorrow to complain, All for her absent lover who ploughs the raging main.
I went up to this fair maid, and put her in surprise,
I own she did not know me, I being in disguise.
Said I, " My charming creature, my joy and heart's delight,
How far do you travel this dark and rainy night."
"The way, kind sir, to Claud y, if you will please to show, Pity a maid distracted, for there I have to go ; I am in search of a faithless young man, and Johnny is his name All on the banks of Claudy, I'm told he does remain."
go TRADITIONAL TUNES.
" It's six weeks and better since your true love left the shore, He is cruising the wide ocean, where foaming billows roar, He is cruising the wide ocean for honour and gain, I was told the ship was wreck'd off the coast of Spain."
When she heard the dreadful news, she fell into despair, To wringing of her hands, and tearing of her hair ; "Since he is gone and left me, no man on earth I'll take, In some lonely valley I'll wander for his sake."
His heart was filled with joy, no longer he could stand,
He flew into her arms, saying, " Betsy I'm the man,
I am the faithless young man, whom you thought was slain,
And since we are met on Claudy's bank, we'll never part again.
BRAES OF STRATHBLANE.
THE air and several of the verses were picked up from the same girl's singing in Dumfriesshire. The words having been found since on a ballad sheet. The air is pecular in structure, and is no doubt an old one.
THE BRAES OF STRATHBLANE.
sum-mer's day, Down
by yon green meadows, I did care-less - ly stray, I spied a fair maid : she was
?
stand-ing her lane, And was bleaching her claes on the braes of Strathblane.
As I went a walking one fine summer's day,
Down by yon green meadows I did carelessly stray ;
I spied a fair maid, she was standing her lane,
And was bleaching her claes on the Braes of Strathblane.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 91
I stepped up to her as I seemed for to pass,
" You are bleaching your claes, my bonny lass ;
It's a twelvemonth and better since 1 had you in my mind,
An' for to get married if you would incline."
" To marry ! To marry, lad ! 1 am too young, Besides you young men have a nattering tongue ; My father and mother would angry be, If I were to marry a rover like thee."
" O haud your tongue, lassie, and do not say so,
You know not the pain that I undergo ;
Consent, my dear lassie, for to be my ain,
And we will be happy on the Braes of Strathblane."
" O tempt me no longer," this fair maid did say,
" You would be far better to go on your way ;
I'd not think myself happy to stay here my lane,
Nor with you pass my life on the Braes of Strathblane."
This young man turned round with the tear in his e'e, " I wish you good morning, young lassie," said he ; " I wish you good morning as we are here our lane, I'll go court another on the Braes of Strathblane."
" O stay awhile, laddie, you've quite won my heart, For here is my hand, love, we never shall part ; No, we never shall part till the day that we die, May all good attend us wherever we be."
" O now you've consented, but it is out of time,
Since the last word you spoke I have altered my mind ;
The clouds look heavy, I'm afraid we shall have rain,"
So we shook hands and parted on the Braes of Strathblane.
" Now all you pretty fair maids, wherever you be, Never slight a young man for his poverty ; For the slighting of young men I'm afraid you'll get nane, So single I wander on the Braes of Strathblane."
92 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
AN AULD MAN HE COURTED ME.
THE miseries of marrying an "auld man" have frequently formed the subject of Scottish song, as instanced by " What can a Young Lassie do wi' an Auld Man," "The Auld Man wi' his Beard new shaven," and others. Even "Auld Robin Gray" may be in- cluded in the category, though it is scarcely in the same strain with the two first-named and the one now following.
This, I noted down from the singing of Mr. A. Wardill, of Goathland, in North Yorkshire. The first verse only is here printed. The air is old, and the JDerry Down chorus comes in quaintly. The burden of every verse is, as in the first, " Maids, while you live never wed an auld man."
AN AULD MAN HE COURTED ME.
An auld man he court - ed me, Hey,
An auld man he court - cd me, Hey, der - ry down, der • ry ! An
«r=±=D
V-
auld man he court-ed me, Hey, der-ry down '. An auld man he court-ed me
AH for his bride to be ; Maids, while you live nev-gr wed an auld man.
An auld man he courted me ;
Hey deny down, derry. An auld man he courted me ;
Hey derry down. And auld man he courted me, All for his bride to be ;
Maids while you live,
Never wed an auld man.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 93
ROTHER GLEN.
THIS is but a fragment which I heard sung by a native of Dumfriesshire. The air is I think a good one, and has every appearance of being old.
I much regret that I could not obtain more of the song than the first verse.
ROTHER GLEN.
coun - try round, And to a place named Roth - er Glen.
When 1 was young in youth did bloom, Where fancy led me I did roam ; From town to town, and country round, And to a place named Rother Glen.
THE MAMMY'S PET.
THE Mammy's Pet is but the first verse out of many, and the only one remembered by the person from whom I got the
air.
This was Mrs Calvert, of Gilnockie, Dumfriesshire, who first heard it sung by her grandmother, the celebrated Tibbie Shiel. The song promises to have been a humorous one, on the dangers of marrying a girl whose parents have failed to keep their promise with regard to her tocher,
94 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
THE MAMMY'S PET
iv
he promised me hor - ses, My mo-ther she promised me
-0-
kye, But when the time was ap - point-ed, The whole of them did de-
j — wr^-^-^-^-^-i ^-F c — FFJ- — m-<J7J-m=±
ny, The whole of the-n did de • ny ; . . And weel ye may ken
r i — -]r-^WraMrm—*-fr—M-u-rV- -Hra-a-*— *
that, That ne-ver ayoungman af- ter me Will marry a mammy's pet'.
My father heBpromised me horses, My mother she promised me kye ;
But when the time was appointed, The whole of them did deny, The whole of them did deny !
And weel ye may ken that,
That never a young man after me,
Will marry a mammy's pet.
MAGGIE'S SMILE.
THIS song is contributed by a lady, who heard it in Dunferm- line, where it was known many years ago.
The words are certainly not very old — not earlier than 1810 to 1830 — but I have been able to find neither the words nor the air in print.
It is not unlikely that they may be recognised and found by a diligent search among the semi-modern Scottish musical publi- cations. While bearing this in mind, I hesitated to omit such a good air and song, deeming sins of omission in this case greater than sins of commission,
TRADITIONAL TUNES
95
MAGGIE'S SMILE.
sn. — ^.—0--.-j*L-\ — ■ #_y_i m # ^>cq ^^ 1
kJ w -0- w w -0- •
I hae court - ed Mag-gie mon-y a day, To tell how long I'd
wea - ry, oh ! But ne'er a word wad Mag - gie say,
She
* L Shj ' r ' , rn — • n — ^±-v 9ZJ.
But, oh ! her smile, her
bon • ny smile, Tho' she'd no speak, it spake a-gain,
_ 0 -LJE. . * * — y^ | — 0 — I— -0-1—0 IJ
she wad say, " Gae, bide a - wa," Her smile said, " Aye, come back a-gain."
I hae courted Maggie mony a day, To tell how long I'd weary, O !
But ne'er a word wad Maggie say, She wad'na be my dearie, O !
Chorus— But O, her smile, her bonny smile,
Tho' she'd no speak it spak' again, Tho' she wad say : " gae bide awa ; " Her smile said, " aye, come back again."
She placed a kebbuck on the shelf, But fient a knife my^Maggie brang ;
She then wi mony a jeering word, Bade me sit in and talk a whang.
But O, her smile, her bonny smile, etc.
She tried to gloom, but couldna' gloom, I then grew bold, and spak' again ;
Said she,*" Gae whistle on your thumb, But mind, sir, come nae back again."
But O, her smile, her bonny smile, etc,
96 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
But jeering words and woman's wile, Should never male' a lover shy ;
I've won my Maggie's bonny smile, I've won my Maggie's heart forbye.
But O, her smile, her bonny smile, etc.
GLOWEROWERUM.
TO the lady who favours me with " Maggie's Smile," I am also indebted for the following. The remarks respecting the probability of "Glowerowerum" being a printed air holds good as in the case of " Maggie's Smile," and I must plead the same excuse for inserting it in a gathering of traditional airs. The song, with the air, is from the same source as " Maggie's Smile," and the air is equally good.
"Glowerowerum" is used as a place-name for a farmhouse in several parts of the North of England and in Scotland. It signifies a situation having an extensive prospect.
GLOWEROWERUM.
There lived an auld man at the top 'o che knowes, His legs were nae better than
guid os - ier boughs ; 'Twad hae set - ted him bet - ter tae hae herded his
e ' -0- * -#- -0 ' -#-
vowes Than hae taen the tack o' bon - nie Glower-owe - rum.
There lived an auld man at the top o' the knowes, His legs were nae better than guid osier boughs ; 'Twad hae setted him better tae hae herded his yowes, Than hae ta'en the tack o' bonnie Glowerowerum. Chorus — ( The air being repeated.)
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 97
Then whilk o' ye lasses '11 gang to Glowerowerum, Whilk o' ye lasses '11 gang to Glowerowerum, Whilk o' ye lasses '11 gang to Glowerowerum, Tae be the guid wife o' bonnie Glowerowerum ?
"Mither, I'm gawn to Lawrence fair," " Laddie, what are ye gaun tae do there ? " " I'm gaun tae buy baith harrows and ploughs, Tae farm the land o' Glowerowerum knowes.
Then whilk o' ye lasses '11 gang to Glowerowerum, etc.
" I'm no for the lass that says ' naithing ava,
Nor yet for the lassie that speaks for us a';
I'm no for the lassie that rages and flytes,
And blames the guidman when it's a' her ain wyte.
Then whilk o' ye lasses '11 gang to Glowerowerum, etc.
" I'm no for the lass wi' the bonnie black locks, Nor yet for the lass wi' the braw ribbon knots ; But I'm for the lass wi' the bonnie bank notes, Tae 'plenish the farm o' bonnie Glowerowerum."
Then whilk o' ye lasses '11 gang to Glowerowerum, etc.
" Mither, I'm gaun tae Lawrence fair."
" Lassie, what are ye gaun to do there ? "
" I'm gaun to buy baith laces and lawn,
Tae wear on my head when I get the guidman."
Chorus — For I am the lassie that's gaun to Glowerowerum, I am the lassie that's gaun to Glowerowerum, For though he may be but a weary concern, It's a braw bonnie tack Glowerowerum farm.
COUPSHAWHOLME FAIR.
THIS lively and picturesque description of a Scotch country fair, I heard sung at Gilnockie, in Dumfriesshire. I was informed that it was the composition of a labouring man, now dead, named Robert Anderson. I am not aware that this song has ever been in print ; it certainly deserves to be better known. Coupshaw- holme is the local name for Castleton (now called Newcastleton), a small town in Roxburgh shire, not far from the borders.
98 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
The air to which the song is adapted is assuredly old. The singer prolongs the starting note of each strain to an abnormal length.
COUPSHAWHOLME FAIR.
On a Fri - day it fell in the month of A - pril, O'er the
• »
blithe - som - est smile ; The
folks were a' thrang - ing the roads e - very - where, Ma - king
JJ.
s
at the Coup - shaw - holme fair.
On a Friday it fell in the month of April, O'er the hills cam5 the morn wi' its blithesomest smile ; The folks were a' thranging the roads everywhere, Making haste to be in at the Coupshawholme Fair.
There were seen coming in frae the mountains and glen, Baith the rosy-faced lasses, and strapping young men : A' jumpine wi' joy, and unburdened wi' care, And meeting auld freens at the Coupshawholme Fair.
It's a day when auld courtships are often renewed, A' disputes set aside, or more hotly pursued ; What Barleycorn Johnny sees fit to declare Is law, for he's king at the Coupshawholme Fair.
There's pethirs* and potters, and gingerbread stands, Peep-shows, puff and dart men, and big caravans ; There's fruit frae a' nations exhibited there, And kail plants frae Hawick at the Coupshawholme Fair.
There's lads for the lasses, and toys for the bairns, Auld blin' ballant singers, and folks wi' nae arms ; The fiddler is here, and the tumbler there, Wi' nut-men and spice-men at Coupshawholme fair.
* Pedlars,
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 99
Now next is the hiring, if you want to hear tell,
I'll tell it as far as I've seen it mysel';
What wages are gien is ill to declare,
Sae muckle they vary at Coupshawholme Fair.
The first I saw hired was a strapping young quean, He asked her her age and where she had been ; What wages she wanted, and how long she'd been there, An' gin she wad hire at the Coupshawholme Fair.
The memory of my informant here failed him, and I have not been able to recover the succeeding verse or verses.
AS WE WERE A-SAILING.
THIS fragment was obtained on the Yorkshire coast. It must be of some degree of antiquity as it relates to a naval en- gagement with the Spaniards. It is to be noticed that a vessel called the "Rainbow" (as in this ballad) is also immortalized in ballad, relating to " A Famous Sea Fight between Captain Ward and the Rainbow."
Ward was a noted pirate in Queen Elizabeth's reign, and the vessel in question was sent out to destroy Ward's ship. We were then at war with Spain, and it appears not unlikely that the " Rainbow" here mentioned is the same vessel.
One verse of Captain Ward runs —
Our Queen she got a ship built, a ship of noble fame, And she was called the Rainbow — you might have heard her name ; And she was called the Rainbow, and on the seas went she, With full five hundred seamen bold to bear her company.
In the second verse of the present song a heroic female suddenly appears and takes the place of the slain commander. Probably, some verse now lost would have explained how the damsel turned up at such an opportune moment. I have not found the ballad in print,
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
AS WE WERE A-SAILING.
#- • • '-m-e -a- -#-
were a sail
un - to the Spanish shore, — Where the
drums they did beat, my boys, and loud cannons did roar.
Which caused
As we were assailing unto the Spanish shore,
Where the drums they did beat, my boys, and the loud cannon did roar,
We spied our lofty enemies come bearing down the main,
Which caused us to hoist our topsails again.
Oh ! broadside to broadside, to battle then we went, To sink one another it was our intent ; The very second broadside our captain he got slain, And this damsel she stood up in his place to command.
We fought four hours, four hours so severe,
We scarcely had one man aboard of our ship that could steer ;
We scarcely had one man aboard could fire off a gun,
And the blood irom our deck like a river did run.
For quarter, for quarter, those Spanish lads did cry,
" No quarter ! no quarter !" this damsel did reply ;
" You've had the best of quarter that I can afford,
You must fight, sink, or swim, my boys, or jump overboard.''
So now the battle's over, we'll take a glass of wine; And you must drink to your true love, and I will drink to mine ; Good health unto this damsel who fought all on the main, And here's to the royal gallant ship called Rainbow by name.
TRADITION At, TUN£$.
THE BOLD PRIVATEER.
THE air is from Mr. Lolley, picked up in the East Riding of Yorkshire, and the words are found on ballad sheets which are sold in Hull and other seaport towns. The story, of course, dates from at least our last French or American war.
THE BOLD PRIVATEER.
S^33fpE£t=E
v=p:
■±3k.
as
Oh ! fare you well, my Pol - ly dear, since you and I must part,
cross- ing of the seas, my love, I'll pledge to . you rn;
-+
ship she now lies wait - ing, so fare you well, my dear :
For
• -#- -*: -9- -&-
I just now am going a -board of a bold pri - va - teer.
" O, fare you well, my Polly dear, since you and I must part, In crossing of the seas, my love, I'll pledge to you my heart ; For our ship she now lies wailing, so fare you well, my dear, For I just now am going aboard of a bold privateer."
She said, " My dearest Jemmy, I hope you will forbear, And do not leave your Polly in grief and in despair ; You'd better stay at home with the girl you love so dear, Than venture on the seas your life in a bold privateer."
" You know, my dearest Polly, your friends they do me slight ; Besides, you have two brothers would take away my life ; From them I then must wander, myself to get me clear, So I am just now going aboard of a bold privateer.
" And when the wars are over, if God does spare our lives, We will return safe back again to our sweethearts and our wives, And then I will get married to my charming Polly, dear, And forever bid adieu to the bold privateer."
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
ON BOARD OF A MAN-OF-WAR.
r I "*HIS is another East Riding tune, which, with the words, is -*- much thought of among the seafaring classes round about Hull. The incident of a girl going to sea disguised in sailor's attire during the last century's naval wars was really not an uncommon one ; there are many such recorded. Considering the hard life and the tyranny to which the sailors of that period were subjected, it is a scarcely to be conceived impulse which would force a girl to such a proceeding.
The immortal ballad of " Billy Taylor" chronicles a similar adven- ture on the part of a young lady of roving proclivities. The comic and well-known version of " Billy Taylor" it may be here noticed is a parody on a more serious effusion (really quite as comic), which appears to narrate a true circumstance.
In the present ballad the line —
" She faced the walls of China where her life was not insured is a highly poetical flight on the part of the poet, and would be doubtlessly well appreciated by the audience it was intended for.
ON BOARD OF A MAN-OF-WAR.
Young Su-san was a blooming maid, So va- liant, stout, and bold !' And
piilili^l^^^
when her sail - or went a-board. Young Su - san, we are told, Put
^^t^^^&mm
on a jol - ly sail - or's dress, And daubed her hands with tar :
» -9- g ^» -0- 9 .
cross the ra • ging seas For love on board of . a Man - of - War.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 103
Young Susan was a blooming maid, so valiant, stout and bold, And when her sailor went to sea, young Susan, we are told, Put on a jolly sailor's dress, and daubed her hands with tar, To cross the raging seas for love, on board of a man-of-war.
It was in Portsmouth harbour this gallant ship was moored,
And when young Susan shipped there were nine hundred men aboard ;
'Twas then she was contented, all bedaubed with pitch and tar,
To be with her sweet William on board of a man-of-war.
When in the Bay of Biscay, she aloft like lightning flew, Respected by the officers and all the jovial crew ; In battle she would boldly run, not fearing wound or scar, And did her duty by her gun, on board of a man-of-war.
She faced the walls of China, where her life was not insured, And little did young William think his Susan was on board ; But by a cruel cannon ball she did receive a scar, And she got slightly wounded, on board of a man-of-war.
When on the deck young Susan fell, of all the whole ship's crew, Her William was the very first who to her assistance flew ; She said, " My jolly sailor, I've for you received a scar, Behold your faithful Susan bold, on board of a man-of-war."
Then William on his Susan gazed with wonder and surprise, He stood some moments motionless, while tears stood in his eyes, He cried, " I wish instead of you I had received that scar, O, love, why did you venture on board of a man-of-war ? "
At length to England they returned, and quickly married were, The bells did ring, and they did sing, and banished every care ! They often think upon that day when she received that scar, When Susan followed her true love on board of a man-of-war.
JOHNNY TODD.
JOHNNY TODD is a child's rhyme and game, heard and seen played by Liverpool children. The air is somewhat pleasing, and the words appear old, though some blanks caused by the reciter's memo y have had to be filled up.
io4 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
m
JOHNNY TODD.
^m^^^m^m
John-ny Todd he took a no-tionFor to go a - cross the sea,
~jV- nfci:
And he left his love be - hind him, Weeping by the Li-ver-pool sea.
Johnny Todd he took a notion
For to go across the sea, And he left his love behind him,
Weeping by the Liverpool sea.
For a week she wept full sorely,
Tore her hair and wrung her hands, Till she met another sailor
Walking on the Liverpool sands.
" Why, fair maid, are you a-weeping,
For your Johnny gone to sea? If you'll wed with me to-morrow,
I will kind and constant be.
" I will buy you sheets and blankets,
I'll buy you a wedding ring, You shall have a gilded cradle
For to rock your baby in."
Johnny Todd came back from sailing,
Sailing o'er the ocean wide ; But he found his fair and false one,
Was another sailor's bride.
All young men who go a-sailing,
For to fight the foreign foe, Don't you leave your love like Johnny —
Marry her before you go.
CAPTAIN DEATH.
THIS ballad relates to a fierce engagement between a French vessel named the " Grand Alexander" from St. Malo, and an English privateer named the "Terrible," of twenty-six guns and two hundred men, commanded by Captain Death. The English ship was captured, but so obstinate was the encounter that (if we
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
i°5
are to believe the ballad) only sixteen of the crew survived ; Captain Death and most of the officers being killed. The date of this event was the 23rd of December, 1757.
The words of the ballad are to be found in Ritson's Select Collection of English Songs, 1783; in The Eatly Naval Ballads of Efigland, edited by J. O. Halliwell, for the Percy Society, 1841 ■ and in Logan's Pedlars' Pack of Ballads, 1869.
The air has not been printed, but I have found it in a small manuscript volume of airs for the violin in my possession, apparently written down about the beginning of the century.
CAPTAIN DEATH.
The Muse with the he - ro's brave deeds being fired, For sim • i-lar views had their
_ a fri
bo - soms inspired, For free - dom they fought, and for glo • ry con-tend,— The
till
Muse o'er the he • ro still mourns as a friend ; Then, oh ! let the Muse this poc j the true Br.
queath To the true
Bri - tish he
brave Cap - tain Death,
The brave Cap-tain Death,
the
9
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qs^^i
:j==ta:
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brave Cap -Lain Death ; To a true British hero, the brave Captain Death.
The Muse and the hero together are fired,
The same noble views have their bosoms inspired,
As freedom they love and for glory contend,
The Muse o'er the hero still mourns as her friend ;
And here let the Muse her poor tribute bequeath,
To one British hero — 'tis brave Captain Death.
io6 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
His ship was the "Terrible" — dreadful to see, His crew were as brave and as gallant as he ; Two hundred or more was their good complement, And, sure, braver fellows to sea never went ; Each man was determined to spend his best breath In fighting for Britian and brave Captain Death.
A prize they had taken, diminish'd their foes,
And soon the good prize ship was lost in her course ;
The French privateer and the "Terrible" met,
The battle begun, all with horror beset ;
No heart was dismayed, each as bold as Macbeth,
They fought for old England and brave Captain Death.
Fire, thunder, balls, bullets were seen, heard, and felt —
A sight that the heart of Bellona would melt ;
The shrouds were all torn, and the decks filled with hlood,
And scores of dead bodies were thrown in the flood :
The ilood from the days of old Noah and Seth,
Ne'er saw such a man as our brave Captain Death,
At last the dread bullet came wing'd with his fate, Our brave Captain dropped, and soon after, his mate ; Each officer fell, and a carnage was seen, That soon dyed the waves from crimson to green ; And Neptune rose up and he took off his wreath, And gave it a triton to crown Captain Death,
Thus fell the strong " Terrible," bravely and bold, But sixteen survivors the fate can unfold ; The French were the victors, though much to their cost, For many brave French were with Englishmen lost ; And thus says old Time, " From good Queen Elizabeth, I ne'er saw the fellow of brave Captain Death."
The first verse united to the music is from a different copy.
OUTWARD BOUND.
A SAILOR'S chanty, known at many ports to the accompany- ing tune. The air was picked up from sailors by Mr. Charles Lolley (to whom I am indebted for many tunes in this collection), and the words are from a broadside.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 107
OUTWARD BOUND!
-•• -m-
To Liv-er-pool docks we bid a - dieu, To Suke, and Sal, and Kit - ty too: The an-chor's weigh d, the sails unfurled, We're bound to cross tlit watery world, For we are outward bound; . Hur • rah! we're outward bound!
To Liverpool docks we bade adieu, To Suke and Sail and Kitty, too ; The anchor's vveigh'd, the sails unfurled, We're bound to cross the watery world.
Chorus. For don't you see we're outward bound, Huzza ! we're outward bound.
The wind blows from east-nor.-east, Our ship will sail ten knots at least ; The purser will our wants supply, So while we live we'll ne'er say die.
For huzza ! we're outward bound, etc.
And should we touch at Malabar, Or any other port as far, Our purser he will tip the chink, And just like fishes we will drinlc For huzza ! etc.
And now we're haul'd into the docks, When the pretty girls they come in flocks ; And one unto the other will say, " Here comes Jack with his three years' pay." For huzza ! we're homeward bound.
io8 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
And now we're off to the " Dog and Bell." Where good liquors they always sell ; In comes the landlord with a smile, Saying, " Drink, lads, drink, it's worth your while, For don't you see you're homeward bound," etc.
But when our money is gone and spent, There's none to be borrowed, nor any to be lent ; In comes the landlord with a frown, Saying, " Get up, Jack, let John sit down,
For don't you see he's homeward bound," etc.
JUST AS THE TIDE WAS FLOWING.
THIS is another old sailors' favourite, noted down for me by Mr. Lolley. The air is old and much resembles "The Peacock" — an Irish tune seldom met with, but included in R. A. Smith's Irish Minstrel, circa 1826, and in one of Holden's collections of Irish Airs, circa 1 800. The air has "much of the characteristics of Scotch melody. It is also sung to this air in the North Riding. The words are from a broadside.
JUST AS THE TIDE WAS FLOWING.
One morn - ing in the month of May, Down by a roll - ing
p 3^_*=^r<-i=i=g:*=*-1L-gS:i . >-uy3
riv - er, A jol - ly sail - or, he did stray, And there be-held a lov - er ; She care-less - ly a -long did stray, A-view-ing of the
daisies gay, She sweetly sang a round-e-Iay Just as the tide was tiow - ing.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 109
One morning in the month of May,
Down by a rolling river, A jolly sailor he did stray,
And there beheld a lover. She carelessly along did stray,
A viewing of the daises gay. She sweetly sang her roundelay.
Just as the tide was flowing.
Her dress it was as white as milk,
And jewels did adorn her skin, It was as soft as any silk,
Just like a lady of honour. Her cheeks were red, her eyes were brown,
Her hair in ringlets hanging down, Her lovely brow without a frown,
Just as thctide was flowing.
I made a bow and said, " Fair maid,
How came you here so early ; My heart by you it was betrayed,
And I could love you dearly. I am a sailor come from sea,
If you'll accept my company, To walk and see the fishes play,
Just as the tide is flowing." ,
No more was said, but on her way
We both did gang together ; The small birds sang, the lambs did play,
And pleasant was the weather. We both being weary sat us down,
Beneath a tree with branches round : Then to the church we soon were bound,
Just as the tide was flowing.
THE INDIAN LASS.
SAILORS are much given to beguiling the monotony of their voyages by songs, and any one which has a simple and taking air and words, not too high flown, will be acceptable. The old fore- castle ditties are, however, passing away on the Avater like those on the land. Many of the old sailor songs are long, dreary ballads, having for their theme some naval engagement of the last century, or possibly
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
some dismal account of a shipwreck. Others, again, like the " Indian Lass," narrate in simple language the joys of a sailor's life ashore.
Such songs and tunes have had, we may be sure, their birth on shipboard, and been passed from sailor to sailor. Many interesting old fragments of this class could be picked up in a voyage in a trading vessel, or in dock side public houses.
A different and distinct class of airs and songs are the " Chanties," such as "Whiskey for my Johnny," "The Rio Grande," and others; but these are work, not play songs, for they are used solely for the purpose of timing the pull of the ropes in working the vessel ; the words of these are generally merely extempore rhymes strung to- gether. Sailors have another song which they sing when a vessel is paid off. This is one roughly put together describing the character of the vessel and its officers, and is eagerly listened to by the fresh hands seeking a berth aboard the vessel.
The "Indian Lass" is found on broadsides, and the first version of the air I got from a person's singing in North Yorkshire.
THE INDIAN LASS.
:±~
5=BES^E^fflESERE=B
Si='
#."■:
n waVk-ing on a far dis-tant shore. I went in - to an
ale - house to spend half - an - hour ; And as I sat smo-king be -
side of my glass. By chance there enme in a fine young In-d!an la-:s.
As I was a walking on a far distant shore,
I went into an ale-house to spend half-an-hour ;
And as I sat smoking beside of my glass,
By chance there came in a fine young Indian lass.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. in
This lovely young Indian, on the place where she stood, I viewed her sweet features, and found they were good ; She was neat, tall, and handsome, her age was sixteen, She was born and brought up in a place near Orleans.
I sat down beside her and squeezed her hand, " I am a poor sailor, not one of this land, But I will prove constant if you will wed with me, Then let us be married ere I go to sea."
" Kind sir," said this maiden, " I pray you to stay, You shall have my portion without more delay ; O, do not go leave me to cross the wide sea, For I have enough both for you and for me."
The day was appointed that we were to sail,
To cross the wide ocean to leave her a while ;
She says, " When you're over in your own native land.
Remember the young Indian that squeezed your hand."
So early next morning we were going to sail ; This lovely young Indian on the beach did bewail ; I took off my hankerchief and wiped her eyes, — " O, do not go leave me, my sailor," she cries.
We weighed our anchor and away then we flew, A sweet, pleasant breeze parted me from her view ; But now I am over and taking my glass, Here is a good health to the young Indian lass.
The following is another set for " The Indian Lass," noted down by Mr. Lolley.
THE INDIAN LASS.
(Seco?id Version.)
m^m^^^m
As I was a walk-ing on a far dis - tant shore, I called at an
ale-house to spend half- an -hour; And as I sat smok-ing be- side me a glass, By chance there came by a fair In : di - an lass,
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
THE DROWNED SAILOR.
THE "Drowned Sailor" is a Yorkshire song, which I heard sung at Flamborough, and I have reason to believe it is also known in the district between there and Whitby. The scene of the story is laid near Robin Hood's Bay, six miles south of Whitby ; Stowbrow mentioned in the ballad being a large and high tract of land on the south side of the bay. No doubt the circumstance of a girl finding her drowned lover really may have occurred, and hence the ballad.
THE DROWNED SAILOR.
r9-'rr4-—0-\-0-
I — s
On Stow - brow, on Stow - brow a fair young maid did dwell ; She
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loved a hand-some sail - or, and he lov-ed her quite as well ; He
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pro-mised he would mar - ry her when back he did re - turn, But,
the world it does con
On Stowbrow, on Stowbrow, a fair young maid did dwell, She loved a handsome sailor and he loved her quite as well He promised he would marry her when back he did return, But, ah ! what misfortunes the world it does contain.
As they were a-sailing, a-sailing by night, The moon it was shaded, and dismal was the night ; The storm it was raging, and the waves the vessel bore, Till they dashed these poor sailors all on the rocky shore.
Some of them were single, and some of them had wives, And all of these poor sailor lads had to swim for their lives But this unhappy sailor who tried his life to save, Instead of being married he found a watery grave.
TRA D TTIO NA L TUNES. i 1 3
Now, as she was walking from Stowbrow to Bay, She saw a drowned sailor that on the sand did lay ; The nearer she drew to him it brought her to a stand, She spied it was her true love by the mark upon his hand.
She kissed him, she caressed him, ten thousand times all o'er, And said, "These awful billows have washed my love ashore ;" But soon this pretty damsel she lay down by his side, And in a few moments she kissed him and died.
Now, this couple was buried in Robin Hood's Churchyard, And for them a memorial stone at their head was raised ; And all you true lovers that do this way pass by, Pray shed a tear of pity from out your glistening eye.
T
THE SUMMER MORNING.
HE " Summer Morning," or, as it is frequently called, " The White Cockade," has been well-known in all parts of York- shire, and I have got copies of the air and song from several singers of old songs. Although so popular, the air never seems to have been printed, except a copy contributed by me some years ago to the Leeds Mercury Weekly Supplement.
I originally noted it down from the singing of my mother, who heard it sung in Leeds about the year 1820. In J. H. Dixon's Songs of the Peasantry of England, 1857, the words are printed as taken down from the recitation of his brother, and the song is stated to have been popular in Durham.
Mr. Dixon states that the air is printed in Chappell's Popular Music of the Olden Time, but this is a mistake, for no mention is made of the song in that work, nor is it in the first edition of Chappell's book.
The song itself is apparently of the date of the latter part of the eighteenth century, and as some reference is made to the " Hollanders," may perhaps be more distinctly referred to the period of an expedition to repel French encroachments in Flanders
ii4
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
and the_ Netherlands in 1793. The tune is no doubt older than this date, and may have belonged to an earlier song, now lost or which has changed its tune.
In singing, the words in italics are to be repeated three times.
THE SUMMER MORNING.
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m
It was one sum - mer morn - ing As I went o'er the moss, I
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55
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had no thought of list • ing Till the sol - diers did me cross; They
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a:
g=kSri=i
kind- ljr did in - vite me To a flow -ing bowl, and down They ad-
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0— a £fc
vane- ed, they ad - vanc-ed, they ad-vanc-ed, they ad-vanc-ed, They ad-
vanc - ed me some mo
-t-L — "— »-T-g-
t=\\
reey — Ten guin - eas and a crown.
It was one summer morning as I went o'er the moss, I had no thought of listing, till the soldiers did me cross ; They kindly did invite me to a flowing bowl, and down They advanced tne some money, ten guineas and a crown.
'Tis true my love has 'listed, he wears a white cockade, He is a handsome, tall young man, besides a roving blade ; He is a handsome young man, and he's gone to serve the King, Oh, my very heart is breaking, all for love of him.
My love is tall and handsome, and comely for to see,
And by a sad misfortune a soldier now is he ;
I hope the man that 'listed him may not prosper night or day,
For I wish that the Hollanders may sink him in the sea.
Oh, may he never prosper, oh, may he never thrive,
Nor anything he takes in hand so long as he's alive ;
May the very grass he treads, upon the ground refuse to grow,
Since he's been the only cause of my sorrow, grief, and woe.
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
"5
Then he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her flowing eyes, " Leave off these lamentations, likewise these doleful sighs, Leave off your grief and sorrow, while I march o'er the plain, We'll be married, we'll be mar-ri-ed, when I return again."
Oh now my love has 'listed, and I for him will rove, I'll write his name on every tree that grows in yonder grove ; Where the huntsman he does hallo, and the hounds do sweetly cry, To remind me of my ftloughboy until the day I die.
A broadside version of the ballad only includes the first, second, fourth, and fifth verses. The first line begins — " It was one Monday morning."
Yorkshire singers do not in general start with the first verse. It is more usual to commence —
" 'Tis true my love has listed, He wears a white cockade."
Another set of the air is appended, which is thus arranged —
i
£
WHITE COCKADE.
(Second I
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T--J-
pfcz:
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'Tis true my love has
ed, he wears a white cock-
=i=i=fc-
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izHitb^izt:
ade ! He is a hand - some young man, be • side a ro - vine
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m
w-m—r
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m
blade; He is a hand-some young man, and he's gone to serve the
-•=^«
king: Oh, my ve - ry, Oh, my ve - ry. Oh. my ve - ry, Oh,
ve - ry, my ve - ry heart is break - ing all for the love of him.
n6 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
P
POLLY OLIVER'S RAMBLE. }OLLY OLIVER is one of the numerous ballads or songs
which narrate the adventures of a young lady who dons male attire to follow her true love. The song is an early one, and is found on ballad sheets. Chappell prints a very beautiful air, presumably from tradition, to which he unites, " Fair Hebe I left with a cautious design," — an old song already fitted with a tune.
The two following airs are other settings of the song.
The first version I find in an old manuscript book of airs in my possession, and it is a tune well worth preservation. The second air is from a traditional source.
POLLY OLIVER'S RAMBLE.
One night Pol - ly Ol - i-ver lay mu - sing in bed, A
Ol - i-ver lay mu - sing in bed,
_5_,_ ■ E ■ BJ-t-
list for a
One night Polly Oliver lay musing in bed,
A comical fancy came into her head :
Neither father nor mother shall make me false prove,
I'll list for a soldier and follow my love.
So early next morning this fair maid arose, And dressed herself up in a suit of men's clothes ; Coat, waistcoat, and breeches, and a sword by her side, On her father's black gelding like a dragoon did ride.
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
i*7
She rode till she came into fair London town, She dismounted her horse at the sign of the " Crown ;" The first that came to her was a man from above, The next that came down was Polly Oliver's true love.
" Good evening, good evening, kind Captain," said she, " Here's a letter from your true love, Polly Oliver," said she He opened the letter, and a guinea was found, " For you and your companions to drink the health round."
For the rest of Polly Oliver's adventures I must refer the reader to the broadside copy of the song ; enough is here given to serve as a vehicle for the airs.
The following second set of "Polly Oliver" I noted down from the singing of Mr. Robert Holliday, of Newton-Dale, North Yorkshire, where this version of the melody is best known.
POLLY OLIVER.
3=5 -9—i-m-m- itt+z: JS-
(Second Version.)
:x:
One night, as Pol-ly Ol-iv-er lay a mu - sing in bed,
-^ -i- %— J-^-l:
liras
cal
fan - cy
came in - to her head : Nei-ther
g=ggl^gg^^^
fa - ther nor mo - ther shall make me false prove ; I'll
be a sol - dier, to fol - low my true love.
liiiieill
n8 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
THE BONNY SCOTCH LAD.
THE air, which is pleasing, is from Mr. A. Wardill, of Goathland, who learned it from his grandfather's singing. Mr. Wardill is in possession of a copy of the words of the song written down by this relative about the years 1805-10.
The words are also found on broadsides, and a version of them, commencing—
" At Kingston-upon-Waldy, a town in Yorkshire," is in A Pedlar's Pack of Ballads and Songs, 1869. Another is in Yorkshire Anthology, edited by J. O. Halliwell, 1851 ; besides one in Ingleden's Ballads and Songs of Yorkshire, i860.
The names of the town in these copies vary between Kingston- upon-Woolwich and Kingston-upon-Hull ; the words, too, are all more or less different to the following from the manuscript above spoken of and here printed. It is almost identical with a broadside copy printed in Leeds.
THE BONNY SCOTCH LAD.
• -j- -m-m- •
-0-9- 'Twas down in a val - ley near a town in York-shire, I lived at my
«ase and was free from all care ; I lived at my ease and had
sweet-hearts e - new, Till I met with a lad in his bon-net so blue.
'Twas down in a valley, near a town in Yorkshire, I lived at my ease and was free from all care ; I lived at my ease and had sweethearts enew, Till I met with a lad with his bonnet so blue.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 119
A regiment of soldiers, as you shall soon hear, From Scotland to Kingston came abroad for to steer ; There was one lad amongst them, I loved him so true, He's a bonny Scotch lad with his bonnet so blue.
His cheeks were like roses, his eyes like two sloes, He's proper and handsome wherever he goes ; Besides, he's good-natured, and comely to view, He's a bonny Scotch lad with his bonnet so blue.
It was early one morning I rose from my bed,
I called for my Nelly, my own waiting-maid ;
" Come, dress me as well as your two hands can do,
I'm going to see the lads with their bonnets so blue."
When I came to the regiment it was on parade, I listened intently to hear what was said ; His name was Charles Stewart, I love him so true, He's a bonny Scotch lad with his bonnet so blue.
My love he passed by with a gun in his hand, I strove to speak to him, but it was all in vain, I strove to speak to him, but by me he flew, But my heart went along with his bonnet so blue.
I said, " My dear jewel, I'll buy your discharge From the army, I'll free you and set you at large ; If you can but love me, my heart will be true, For well I do love your sweet bonnet so blue."
He says, " My fair lady, if you me discharge, And free me from the army and set me at large ; If I were to leave and along with you go, It's what would my poor little Scotch lassie do ?
" For I've got a sweetheart in my own country, I will never despise for her poverty ; The girl that I love she'll always prove true, And I'll ne'er put a stain on my bonnet so blue."
I'll send for a limner from London to Hull, I'll have my love's picture drawn out at the full ; And in my bedchamber so oft will I view, My bonny Scotch lad with his bonnet so blue.
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
THE PLAINS OF WATERLOO. O HORTLY after the Battle of Waterloo a ballad was much sung ^ both in Scotland and in England, giving a narrative of the famous fight, and recording the names of the officers who fell or who distinguished themselves for their bravery.
I have come across at least three or four different versions of the ballad, and three airs for it. One of these airs is in Christie's Traditional Ballad Airs, but the two which I here print are quite dissimilar from it and from each other.
The first version I obtained from a country singer in Dumfries- shire, along with the better known copy of the ballad.
TLIE PLAINS OF WATERLOO.
(First Version.)
^S^^^^S
On the sixteenth day of June, my hoys, In Flanders, where we lay, Our
a-larm Be - fore the break of day ; We 0—0 tf-l-«— : 1 1 — W~ -Os — +
bu • gles sound-ed the a-larm Be - fore the break of day ;
Bri - tons, Bel-gians, Bruns - wickers, and Han - o - ver - ians too,
=fv=3:
l~3 a &~
— I-
All Brus-sels left that morn-ing For the plains near Wa - ter - loo.
On the sixteenth day of June, my boys, in Flanders where we lay, Our bugles sounded the alarm before the break of day ; We Britons, Belgians, Brunswickers, and Hanoverians too, All Brussels left that morning for the plains near Waterloo.
By a forced march we did advance till three in the afternoon, Each British heart with ardour beat to pull the tyrant down ; Near Quatre-Bras we met the French, their shape to us seemed new, For in steel armour they were clad on the plains of Waterloo.
7 RADII 10 ^AL TUNES 121
Napoleon to his men did say before that they begun, " My heroes, if we lose the day, our nation is undone ; The Prussians we've already beat — we'll beat the British, too, And display victorious eagles on the plains of Waterloo." Etc. etc.
The above version of the ballad is said to be the composition of a Sergeant Grant of the 92 nd regiment, who wrote it directly after the battle. As it is the copy most frequently met with on broad- sides, and is reprinted in Logan's Pedlars' Pack of Ballads, and a similar version is given by Christie, I have used the space at my disposal in giving a less known copy of the ballad from a broadside.
A Horbury correspondent sends me the second setting of the " Plains of Waterloo," as learned by his grandfather and himself from Waterloo men ; he informing me that it was the tune preferred and mostly sung by the Waterloo heroes. The music is set to the third verse.
THE PLAINS OF WATERLOO.
(Second Version.)
ife^i
f June, my boys, Eighteen hundred and fif-
+ .
teen, Both horse and foot they did ad - vance, Most glo-rious to be
seen ; Both horse and foot they did ad-vance, And the bu-gle horn did
w — fcggfaa — i?-r-»f'-J — *-*-r:j--j-d-f:aH R
blow : The sons of France we made them dance On the plains of\Va-ter - loo.
The ancient sons of glory were all great men they say,
And we, in future story, will be as great as they ;
Our noble fathers' valiant sons shall conquer every foe,
And long shall fame their names proclaim, who fought at Waterloo.
i22 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
At ten o'clock on Sunday, the bloody fight began, In raged from that moment to the setting of the sun ; My pen, I'm sure, can't half relate the glories of that day We fought the French at Waterloo, and made them run away.
On the eighteenth of June, eighteen-hundred-and-fifteen, Both horse and foot they did advance, most glorious to be seen, Both horse and foot they did advance, and the bugle horn did blow, The sons of France we made them dance, on the plains of Waterloo.
Our cavalry advanced with true and valiant hearts, Our infantry and artillery did nobly play their parts ; While the small arms did rattle and great guns did roar, And many a valiant soldier lay bleeding in his gore.
The French dogs made a bold attack in front of Mount St. Jean, Two of their best battalions thought the village to gain ; Our infantry first charged them and made them face about, Sir William with his heavy brigade soon put them to the rout.
As for Sir William Ponsonby, I'm sorry for to say, Leading the Enniskillen dragoons, he met his fate that day ; In front of his brigade he fell, which grieves me very sore, I saw him lie as I passed by, with many thousands more.
The cuirassiers so nobly fought, armed in coats of steel,
And boldly they did advance, thinking to make us yield ;
But our dragoons with sword in hand soon cut their armour through,
And showed that day at Waterloo, what Britons they could do.
Napoleon, like a fighting cock, far mounted on a car, He much did wish to represent great Mars the god of war ; On a high platform he did stand and loudly he did crow, He dropt his wings and turned his tail to us at Waterloo.
The fertile field of Brabant shall long recorded be, Where Britons fought for honour and Belgic liberty, The Sovereign of the Netherlands, he very well does know, For honour and his country, we fought at Waterloo.
The Prince of Orange the hussars and right wing did command, And sure a Prince more valiant ne'er took a sword in hand ; His Highness wounded was that day, charging the haughty foe, And long shall fame their name proclaim, who fought at Waterloo.
The valiant Duke of Brunswick fell in the field that day, And many a valiant officer dropt in the awful fray, And many British soldiers lay bleeding in their gore, On the plains of Waterloo, where thundering cannons roar.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 123
Lord Wellington commanded us all on that glorious day, Where many a brave soldier in death's cold arms did lay ; Where many arms did rattle, and cannons loud did roar, At Waterloo, where Frenchmen their fate did deplore.
As for General Paget, Marquis of Anglesea, The commander of the brigade of British cavalry, His honour most conspicuous shone wherever he did go, A limb he lost in a gallant charge that day at Waterloo.
Brave General Hill, so much renowned, commanded the left wing, And with his British hearts of oak, destruction did bring ; Brave Picton of heroic fame his squadron on he drew, Where sublime his deeds do shine in fame at Waterloo.
Now, tender husbands here have left their wives to mourn, And children, weeping, cry, "When will our dads return?" Our country will dry up their tears, we feel rejoiced to know, They will reward each soldier that fought at Waterloo.
When Buonaparte he did perceive the victory we had won, He did lament in bitter tears, saying, " Oh ! my darling son, I will set off to Paris straight, and have him crowned also, Before they hear of my defeat on the plains of Waterloo."
So unto George, our gracious King, my voice I mean to- raise,
And to all gallant commanders I wish to sing their praise ;
The Duke of York and family, and Wellington also,
And the soldiers brave that fought that day on the plains of Waterloo.
So let us give our praise to God, who did the victory give, And may we all remember Him as long as we do live ; To God above give all the praise, and we'll remember, too, That He gave to us the victory on the plains of Waterloo.
Another ballad on the "Plains of Waterloo" will be found
spoken of under the tune, " With Henry Hunt we'll go," in the
present volume.
*-•-*■
BRENNAN ON THE MOOR.
I HAVE not sought out from the criminal records a history of the Irish highwayman, Willie Brennan. Judging by the popu- larity of the song, he must have been somewhat famous, and he appears to have excited the sympathy of the crowd. The song is or was sung all over England, and it is common on ballad sheets. I
124
TRADITION A L 7 UNES.
have not met with more than one air to it, and that was picked up in two halves. Some copies of the ballad speak of the " Livart " and " Lilvart mountains," instead of the " Limerick mountains."
BOLD BRENNAN ON THE MOOR.
-m- -0 — \y-0r •
It's of a fear-less high - way-man a sto • ry now I'll tell : His
:>5 4~
name was Wil-lie Brennan, and in Ire-land he did dwell ; Twas on the Limerick
mountains he com-menced his wild career, Where many a wealthy gen • tie -man be- Chorus.
-*h-
fore him shook with fear.
Brennan on the moor, Brennan on the
moor, Bold and yet un ■ daunt - ed stood young Brennan on the moor.
It's of a fearless^highwayman a story now I'll tell : His name was Willie Brennar., and in Ireland he did dwell ; 'Twas on the Limerick mountains he commenced his wild career, Where many a wealthy gentleman before him shook with fear.
CHORUS. Brennan on the moor, Brennan on the moor, Bold and yet undaunted stood young Brennan on the moor.
A brace of loaded pistols he carried night and day,
He never robb'd a poor man upon the King's highway ;
But what he'd taken from the rich, like Tu.rpin and Black Bess,
He always did divide it with the widow in distress.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 125
One night he robbed a packman, his name was Hedler Bawn* ; They travelled on together, till day began to dawn ; The pedlar seeing his money gone, likewise his watch and chain, He at once encountered Brennan and robbed him back again.
When Brennan saw the pedlar was as good a man as he, He took him on the highway, his companion for to be ; The pedlar threw away his pack without any more delay, And proved a faithful comrade until his dying day.
One day upon the highway Willie he sat down,
He met the Mayor of Cashel, a mile outside the town ;
The Mayor he knew his features, " I think, young man," said he,
" Your name is Willie Brennan, you must come along with me."
As Brennan's wife had gone to town provisions for to buy, When she saw her Willie, she began to weep and cry ; He says, " Give me that tenpence ;" as soon as Willie spoke, She handed him the blunderbuss from underneath her cloak.
Then with his loaded blunderbuss, the truth I will unfold, He made the Mayor to tremble, and robbed him of his gold ; One hundred pounds was offered for his apprehension there, And with his horse and saddle to the mountains did repair.
Then Brennan being an outlaw upon the mountain high, Where cavalry and infantry to take him they did try, He laughed at them with scorn, until at length, it's said, By a false-hearted young man he was basely betrayed.
In the County of Tipperary, in a place they call Clonmore, Willie Brennan and his comrade that day did suffer sore ; He lay among the fern which was thick upon the field, And nine wounds he had received before that he did yield.
Then Brennan and his companion knowing they were betrayed, He with the mounted cavalry a noble battle made ; He lost his foremost finger, which was shot off by a ball ; So Brennan and his comrade they were taken after all.
So they were taken prisoners, in irons they were bound,
And conveyed to Clonmel jail, strong walls did them surround ;
They were tried and found guilty, the judge made this reply,
" For robbing on the King's highway you are both condemned to die,'
* In some copies, " Pedlar Brown."
126
TRADITIONAL TUNES.
Farewell unto my wife, and to my children three,
Likewise my aged father, he may shed tears for me,
And to my loving mother, who tore her gray locks and cried,
Saying, " I wish, Willie Brennan, in your cradle you had died."
SPENCE BROUGHTON.
S PENCE BROUGHTON was a Sheffield man who robbed the Rotherham postman on Attercliffe Common, and was executed for this crime at York, on the 14th of April, 1792. His body was hung on a gibbet near the scene of the robbery, the gibbet-post re- maining standing till 1827. Although but few singers know much about Spence Broughton, and though the song is far from being good, it appears to have lingered in South Yorkshire to our own time — a hundred years after its composition.
I have obtained two copies of the air. The words are on broad- sides printed at Leeds.
pfcr
SPENCE BROUGHTON.
To you, my dear com - pan - ions, Ac-cept these lines I pray : A
Has oc - cu - pied this day ;
Tis
Brough-ton, To show his wretched fate :
f»
Pray,
r-s-P-i — 1 — S-f J-3-
— / «**_ J —
fore it
■&-T
too late
To you, my dear companions, accept these lines, I pray : A most impartial trial has occupied this day ; 'Tis from your dying Broughton, to show his wretched fate Pray, make your reformation before it is too late.
TRADITIONAL TUNES. 127
The loss of your companion will grieve your hearts full sore, 1 know that my fair Ellen will my wretched fate deplore ; Thinking of those happy hours that now are past and gone, That I, unhappy Broughton, would I had ne'er been born.
Brought up in wicked habits, which wrought in me no fear, How little did I think that my time had been so near ; But now I am overtaken, I am bound and cast to die, Exposed a sad example to all that does pass by.
O, that I had but gone unto some far distant clime,
Then a gibbet post for Broughton would never have been mine ;
But as for such like wishes, they are vanity and vain,
Alas ! it is but folly and madness to complain.
One night to try and slumber I closed my weeping eyes,
I heard a foot approaching, which struck me with surprise ;
I listened for a moment, a voice made this reply,
" Prepare thyself, Spence Broughton, to-morrow thou must die."
Farewell, my wife and children, to you I bid adieu, I never should have come to this had I stayed at home with you ; But I hope through my Redeemer to gain a happy shore, Farewell, farewell for ever, Spence Broughton is no more.
The following is the second and a better version of the air : — SPENCE BROUGHTON.
(Second Version.)
:^zJbt±-*-*-fci=:*--fz:ia^zi=^j
To you, my dear com - pan - i - ons, Ac - cept these lines I pray : A
=t
a — "-tz±=zid
__i u
zqr:
most im - par - tial tri - al Has oc - cu - pied this day ; "lis
g-
b:
from your dy - ing Broughton. To show his wretched fate : Pray
^g^^'=^^£Sfel
make you re - for - ma - tion Be - fore it is too late.
i28 TRADITIONAL TUNES.
THE EXECUTION SONG.
IN the palmy days of street singing, ballad-mongers quickly seized the golden opportunity of an execution for the pro- duction of a " last dying speech and confession ;" which hawked and sung about the streets produced a plentiful harvest of pennies. Like certain enterprising newspapers in the same case, the ballad publisher had the account of the criminal's death in print long be- fore the sentence of the law was carried out, for it was necessary to cater to the public before its morbid curiosity was worn off.
It will be seen also that a ready-made air was essential, and the following was the one to which nearly all this dismal class of songs were sung.
An attentive examination of the tune will, I think, show that when rid of the nasal twang imparted by the street singers to it, and, when put to better words, it is a fine air. I am in the first instance obliged to Mr. Holgate, of Leeds, for the remembrance of it, though to most of the older natives of Leeds it produces a recollection of a street singer with a Cockney accent, singing through his nose, such a song as I print to the air.
The refrain was judiciously varied; it was either —
"Parents all, far and near, Listen now to what you hear."
or else-
" Young men all now beware, Lest you fall into a snare."
according to the nature of the case.
A good story is told