BY FRANK KIDSON
NOTE
I am indebted to Miss Lucy E. Broadwood
for permission to use a folk-tune of her
collecting, and for many helpful suggestions.
F. K.
Writing two centuries ago, Joseph Addison tells us in the character of
Mr Spectator:—
“When I travelled I took a 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). He further says:—
“An ordinary song or ballad, that is the delight of the common people,
cannot fail to please all such readers as are not unqualified for the
entertainment by their affectation or ignorance.”
It was not only the cultured Mr Addison who recognised the claims of
the people’s songs as expressive of sentiments that were worthy the
consideration of the more learned, for quotation upon quotation could
be given of examples where the refined and learned have found in the
primitive song that which appealed in the highest degree.
The moderns need no excuse for the study of folk-song, and few will
regard the consideration of people’s-lore as an idle amusement.
The present essay is put forth with all diffidence as a very slight
dissertation upon a complex subject, and it does not pretend to do more
than enter into the fringe of it.
The younger of the present generation have seen the gradual speeding up
of technique in composition and performance, but with this increased
standard there has been a tendency to let fall certain very sacred and
essential things that belong to musical art. In too many cases the
composer has not quite justified the complexity of his composition;
while glorying in the skill of his craftsmanship he has too frequently
forgotten the primitive demand for art and beauty, apart from technical
elaboration.
That type of simple melody that formerly pleased what we might regard
as a less cultured age, holds no place in present-day composition or in
the esteem of a certain class.
It is probable that this melodic starvation turned so many, who had
not lost the feeling for simple tune, towards folk-music when this was
dragged from obscurity and declared by competent musical judges to be
worthy of consideration. Then people began to revel in its charm, and
to feel that here was something that had been withheld from them, but
which was good for their musical souls.
A simple air of eight or sixteen bars may not appear difficult to
evolve, or even worth evolving at all, much less of record; but
when the matter is further considered, we have to acknowledge that
seemingly trivial melodies have wrought effects which have upset
thrones and changed the fate of nations. Where they have not had this
great political influence their histories show that they have rooted
themselves deeply into the hearts of a people, and put into shade the
finest compositions of great musicians. An undying vitality appears
to be inherent in them, and this is shown by their general appeal
throughout periods of thought and life totally unlike. Many examples
prove this, and such an air as “Greensleeves”
might be cited in this connexion.
One would suppose that nothing could be more apart in thought, action,
and habit than the gallant of Elizabeth’s reign and an English farm
labourer of the present day. And yet the tune “Greensleeves” that
pleased the sixteenth century culture is found the cherished possession
of countrymen in the Midlands, who execute a rustic dance to a
traditional survival of it. Further proof that it is one of those
immortal tunes to which reference has been made is shown by the fact
that it exists in various forms, and has had all kinds of songs fitted
to it from its first recorded appearance in Shakespeare’s time (who
mentions it) down to the present day.
“Greensleeves” is probably an “art” tune and not strictly folk-music.
Hence in its passage downwards it has gradually got stripped of some of
its subtilty, as it has been chiefly passed onward by tradition. This
change will be noted further on.
Other tunes that, coming from remote antiquity, still find a welcome
with the people are, “John Anderson my Jo,” and “Scots wha hae,” while
“Lillibulero,” and “Boyne Water,” though of lesser age, fall into the
same category.
We have even taken to our hearts tunes of other nationalities, and
perhaps have more French airs among our popular music than of any other
country. As every student of national song knows, “We won’t go home
till morning” is but “Malbrook,” the favourite of Marie Antoinette, who
learned it from the peasant woman called in to nurse her first child.
“Ah vous dirai je” is known as “Baa baa black sheep” in every nursery,
while “In my cottage near a wood” is a literal translation from an old
French song to its proper tune.
Such of these, or of this class, as are not folk-tunes have the same
spirit, and it is this indefinable quality that causes folk-music to be
so tenacious of existence. If it be good enough it is almost impossible
for it to die and be totally forgotten. A tune may lie dormant for half
a century, but it rises again and has its period of renewed popularity.
One might name many a music-hall air, over which the people have for a
period gone half wild, that is merely a resuscitation of a tune that
has pleased a former generation. Thus such airs pass through strata of
widely differing thought and mode of life.
It is folk-music that appeals to the bed-rock temperament of the
people. Artificial music can only do so to a culture, which may
change its standards with a change of thought, and that which is the
applauded of one generation becomes the despised of a succeeding one;
musical history can furnish many such examples. These facts justify our
appreciation of folk-music and elevate its study.
The word “folk-song” is so elastic in definition that it has been
freely used to indicate types of song and melody that greatly
differ from each other. The word conveys a different signification
to different people, and writers have got sadly confused from this
circumstance. Even the word “song” has not a fixed meaning, for it can
imply both a lyric with its music, and the words of the lyric only.
“Folk-song,” or “people’s song,” may be understood to imply, in its
broadest sense, as Volkslied does to the German, a song and its music
which is generally approved by the bulk of the people. Thus any current
popular drawing-room song, or the latest music-hall production, would
naturally hold this meaning, though it would not come into line with
the other conceptions of folk-song, and probably not altogether satisfy
the German ideal. Then, what may fitly be called “national” songs have
a strong claim upon the word. “God save the King,” “Home sweet Home,”
“Tom Bowling,” “Heart of Oak,” and countless others that form our
national store of song and melody could under this meaning be called
folk-songs, and this might come closer to the German idea of a
Volkslied.
The type, however, which lies nearest the definition of folk-song, as
understood by the modern expert, is a song born of the people and used
by the people—practically exclusively used by them before being noted
down by collectors and placed before a different class of singers.
To pursue the subject further one might split straws over the word
“people,” but it may be generally accepted that “the people,” in this
instance, stands for a stratum of society where education of a literary
kind is, in a greater or lesser degree, absent.
This last definition of folk-song, as “song and melody born of the
people and used by the people as an expression of their emotions, and
(as in the case of historical ballads) for lyrical narrative,” is
the one adopted in these pages and that generally recognised by the
chief collectors and by the Folk-Song Society. In addition it may be
mentioned that folk-song is practically almost always traditional, so
far as its melody is concerned, and, like all traditional lore, subject
to corruption and alteration. Also, that we have no definite knowledge
of its original birth, and frequently but a very vague idea as to its period.
It has been cleverly said that a proverb is the “wit of one and the
wisdom of many.” In a folk-song or folk-ballad we may accept a similar
definition, to the effect that it is in the power of one person to
put into tangible form a history, a legend, or a sentiment which is
generally known to, or felt by, the community at large, but which few
are able to put into definite shape. We may suppose that such effort
from one individual may be either crude or polished; that matters
little if the sentiment is a commonly felt one, for common usage will
give it some degree of polish, or at any rate round off some of its corners.
Every nation, both savage and civilized, has its folk-song, and this
folk-song is a reflection of the current thought of the class among
which it is popular. It is frequently a spontaneous production that
invests in lyric form the commonly felt emotion or sentiment of the moment.
This type is more observable among savage tribes than among civilized
nations. Folk-song is therefore not so permanent among the former as it
is among the latter. So far as we can gather, though it is difficult
to get at the truth of this matter, among primitive people the savage
does not appear to retain his song-traditions, but invents new lyrics
as occasion calls. For example, one is continually reading in books of
travel of negroes, or natives of wild countries, chanting extemporary
songs descriptive of things which have been the happenings of the day,
and telling of the white man who has come among them, of the feast he
has provided, of the dangers they have encountered during the journey,
and so forth. The tunes of these songs appear to be chiefly monotonous
chants, and the accompanying music of the rudest character, produced on
tom-toms, horns, reed-flutes, or similar kinds of instruments. A very
typical description of this class of folk-song, the like of which may
be found in most books of travel, occurs in Day’s Music and Musical
Instruments of Southern India and the Deccan. The author says:—
“The ordinary folk-songs of the country are called
“Lavanis,” and will be familiar to every one who has heard the coolies
sing as they do their work, the women nursing their children, the
bullock-drivers and dooley-bearers, or Sepoys on the march. The airs
are usually very monotonous, the words, if not impromptu, are a sort of
history, or ballad in praise of some warrior, or ‘burra-sahib.’ Some
have a kind of chorus, each in turn singing an improvised verse.”
This type appears to be the origin of a nation’s folk-song.
It is a sign of a country’s civilization when it begins to keep
records, either by tradition or more fixed methods, and it is a theory
(which may be probably accepted as correct) that chronicles were
first chanted in ballad form and thus more easily passed downward in
remembrance. This may be accepted as the origin of the folk-ballad.
Its music has originated by the same natural instinct that produces
language.
Much has been said of the communal origin of folk-song and folk-music,
but it is somewhat difficult fully to realise what is meant by such a
term in relation to these matters.
Those who hold this theory appear to assert that a folk-song with its
music has had a primal formation at some early and indefinite time, and
that this germ, thrown upon the world, has been fashioned and changed
by numberless brains according to the popular demand, and has only met
with general acceptance when it has fulfilled the requirements that the
populace have demanded. This change is called its “evolution,” and it
is sometimes claimed that this evolution still goes on where folk-songs
are yet sung; this means that the folk-song is virtually in a state of
fluidity.
Such, briefly, appears to be the idea of those who hold the
evolutionary, or communal, theory of folk-song origin. It cannot be
denied that there is an obvious truth in such a contention, but before
it can be generally accepted surely there must be much modification.
It cannot be altogether decided that the original germ is absolutely
different from the folk-song as found existing to-day, but that both
folk-song and folk-music are subject to change also cannot be disputed.
The parlour game “Gossip,” in which A whispers a short narrative to
B, who in turn whispers it to C, the narrative passing finally to Z,
has been used as an illustration of the variations that folk-song
undergoes. In the game, the tale originally put forth by A is generally
found to be much unlike that received by Z. Folk-song in some degree
suffers such change by conscious or unconscious alteration. Unconscious
alteration we can easily understand; that is merely the result of
imperfect remembrance. Conscious alteration may be the effect, in
vocal rendering, of a difficulty in individual singers of attaining
certain intervals, or from choice. Alteration in instrumental rendering
of folk-music is chiefly due to lack of skill in the performer on a
particular instrument. Thus, what may be difficult to render on a
flute may be easy on a fiddle; hence we can conceive an alteration may
be purposely made for facility of performance. This is decidedly not
evolution, nor communal origin.
The existence of the “Cante-fable” has furnished another theory of
folk-song origin. The Cante-fable is a traditional prose narrative
having rhymed passages incorporated with the tale. These rhymes are
generally short verses, or couplets, which recur at dramatic points
of the story. They were probably sung to tunes, but present-day
remembrance has failed to preserve more than a few specimens, and the
verse, or couplet, is now generally recited.
It has been asserted that the Cante-fable is a sort of germ from which
both ballad and prose narrative have evolved. Mr Jacobs, in English
Fairy Tales, says—“The Cante-fable is probably the protoplasm out of
which both ballad and folk-tale have been differentiated; the ballad by
omitting the narrative prose, and the folk-tale by expanding it.”
Mr Cecil J. Sharp, in English Folk-song: Some Conclusions, p. 6,
tells of having noted a version of the ballad “Lord Thomas and Fair
Eleanor”—“in which the whole of the story was sung, with the exception
of three lines, which the singer assured me should be spoken. This was
clearly a case of a Cante-fable that had very nearly, but not quite,
passed into the form of a ballad, thus corroborating Mr Jacobs’ theory.”
The present writer is sorry to differ from Mr Jacobs as well as from Mr
Sharp in this matter, but he does not think that facts quite justify
the conclusion. He can but look upon the speaking of the three lines
of the “Fair Eleanor” ballad, instead of singing them, as merely an
individual eccentricity that has no value as pointing to a nearly
completed evolution. Their theory indicates, to put it crudely, that
the Cante-fable is in the condition of a tadpole which by and by will
have its fins and tail turned into legs, will forsake its original
element, and hop about a meadow, instead of being entirely confined to
pond water.
An examination of existing Cante-fables will certainly reveal the fact
that the fragments of verse are used either as a literary ornament, or
to force some particular dramatic situation home to the hearer. Also,
it must be noticed that the rhyme passages are not merely fragmentary
parts of a prose narrative which is gradually turning wholly into
rhyme, but most frequently consist of a repeated verse, or couplet,
that occurs at parts of the story, which could not be so effectively
told in prose.
The commonly known story of “Orange,” versions of which, all having
the same rhyme passages, are to be found in English, German, and other
folk-tales is a good example. With little variation the story tells of
a stepmother who kills her husband’s child, makes the body into a pie,
to be eaten by the father, and buries the bones in the cellar. First
one member of the family goes into this place and hears the voice of
the murdered child sing,—
“My mother did kill me and put me in pies,
My father did eat me and say I was nice;
My two little sisters came picking my bones,
And buried me under cold marble stones.”
Then other members of the family go to the cellar and in turn
hear the same voice repeating the rhyme (see Folk-Song Journal, vol. ii.,
p. 295, for a version of the tale and a tune sung to the above words
learned from Liverpool children).
Another Cante-fable, surely a genuine one, is given by Charles Dickens
in “Nurses’ Stories” in The Uncommercial Traveller.
In this case the rhyme—
“A lemon has pips,
A yard has ships,
And I’ll have Chips!”
is brought out with vivid effect by the narrator at intervals
and with terror-striking force due to its expected recurrence, just as in the
case of the story of “Orange.” As Dickens puts it—“I don’t know why,
but the fact of the Devil expressing himself in rhyme was peculiarly
trying to me.” And again—“For this refrain I had waited since its last
appearance with inexpressible horror, which now culminated.” And—“The
invariable effect of this alarming tautology on the part of the Evil
Spirit was to deprive me of my senses.”
There can be but little doubt that this Cante-fable is a real nurse’s
story, remembered by the great author from his childhood, and Dickens
so well describes the feeling of terror that the rhyme inspires in the
childish listener, that we cannot but grant that the original makers
of Cante-fable were quite alive to the dramatic force such recurring
rhymes possess.
Other examples of the Cante-fable are to be found in Chambers’ Popular
Rhymes of Scotland and elsewhere. All, however, point to the verse
being used as an ornamental and dramatic addition to the story, and
certainly not as indicating a transitionary stage between a rhyming and
a prose narrative.
The question of a Cante-fable origin of the folk-ballad is here
somewhat fully dealt with, as it is a sufficiently romantic theory to
lead people, who have not fully considered all the points involved, to
accept it on trust.
It will be quite evident to the average hearer that much folk-music is
built upon scales different from those that form the foundation of the
ordinary modern tune. This fact is accounted for by the circumstance
that a large percentage of folk-melodies are “modal”; i.e.
constructed upon the so-called “ecclesiastical modes” which, whether
adopted from the Greek musical system or not, had Greek nomenclature,
and were employed in the early church services.
The ecclesiastical scales may be realised by playing an octave scale
on the white keys of the piano only. Thus—C to C is Ionian, D to D
Dorian, E to E Phrygian, F to F Lydian (rarely used), G to G
Mixolydian, A to A Æolian, and B to B Locrian (practically unused).
Progress in harmony and polyphony gradually revealed the cramping
effect of many modal intervals, and already by the beginning of the
seventeenth century our modern major and minor scales (the first,
however, corresponding to the Ionian mode in structure) had supplanted
the rest, so far as trained musicians were concerned. Not so with the
folk-tune maker; he was conservative enough to preserve that which had
become obsolete elsewhere. We find a large proportion of folk-airs are
in the Dorian, Mixolydian, and Æolian modes, with much fewer in the
Phrygian.
When folk-music began to be first studied scientifically a theory was
held that because of its modal character it was necessarily a reflex
of ecclesiastical music, and that secular melodies were either church
chants set to songs, or in some other way derived from them. It is
known that many of the early clerics established schools for the
teaching of music, with intent to enrich the services. But while this
theory is temptingly plausible, yet it is incapable of proof, and a
reverse one might, with equal reason, be held to maintain that the
church took its music directly from the people, or at any rate adapted
its form from that mostly popular.
It has also been asserted that the modal character of folk-music is a
clear proof of great age. It is certainly more than likely that most of
the modal tunes that are found are of considerable antiquity, but it
is scarcely safe to conclude that all are so. How old any particular
folk-tune may be is a problem incapable of solution, and all attempts
to fix its age and period can be but, at best, mere guesswork.
We may grant that folk-music has been handed down traditionally by
many generations of singers, but if it has pleased these different
generations we must also admit that any new composition of folk-music,
to please the people, must conform to their common demand.
Folk-music seems to have held its own traditional ideals longer
and more closely than music composed for that class which has so
persistently ignored it. The cultured musician is always, consciously
or unconsciously, influenced by the music of his day, and as a
consequence adheres to its idioms, or is genius enough to found a
school of his own. His music too is far more elaborate than that
produced by the rustic, or untaught musician. It has harmony, and many more
points of evidence that enable us definitely to fix its period of composition.
The composer of folk-music may be compared, in a sense, to the Indian,
or Chinese art-worker who repeats the class of patterns that has come
down to him from time immemorial. When European influence was brought
to bear on his work his patterns became debased, lost their original
beauty, and gained nothing from the new source of inspiration.
There is no space in this small manual to enter into a disquisition on
the Modes. The reader is referred to such a work as the new edition
of Grove’s Dictionary of Music and Musicians (vol. iii., p. 222),
to Carl Engel’s Study of National Music, and to a most valuable
contribution to the subject by Miss A. G. Gilchrist, “Note on the Modal
System of Gaelic Tunes,” in the Journal of the Folk-Song Society,
vol. iv., No. 16.
The following are given as examples of modal folk-tunes,
in the modes most frequently found:—
| ONE MOONLIGHT NIGHT |
| Dorian |
Sung in a “Cante-Fable” |
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| One moonlight night, as I sat high, I looked for one,
but two came by; The |
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| boughs did bend, the leaves did shake, To
see the hole the fox did make. |
[Listen] |
| THE BONNY LABOURING BOY |
| |
| Noted by Miss L. E. Broadwood |
Sung by Mr Lough, Surrey |
| Mixolydian |
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| As I roved out one eve - ning, being in the blooming spring, |
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| I heard a love-ly dam-sel fair most grie-vously did sing,Say-ing |
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| “Cru-el were my pa - rents that did me so an - noy.They |
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| did not let me mar-ry with my bon-ny la-b’ring boy.” |
[Listen] |
CHRISTMAS CAROL AS SUNG IN NORTH YORKSHIRE |
| |
| Æolian Mode |
|
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| God rest you merry, merry gentlemen, Let nothing you dismay,Re- |
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| member Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas day,To |
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| save our souls from Satan’s pow’r that long had gone astray,Oh, |
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| tidingsofcomfort andjoy, andjoy,and |
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| joy,Oh,tidingsof comfort and joy,andjoy. |
[Listen] |
In addition to modal tunes we have a certain number of folk-airs built
upon a “gapped,” or limited, scale of five notes instead of the usual
seven. This “pentatonic” scale, which appears to be very characteristic
of the primitive music of all nations, was formerly held as an
infallible sign of a Scottish origin, and the old recipe to produce a
Scottish air was—“stick to the black keys of the piano.” It is quite
true that a large number of Scottish melodies have the characteristics
of the pentatonic scale, but so also have the Irish tunes, and there
are a lesser number that may claim to be English.
Much nonsense has been written to account for the existence
of the pentatonic scale, the general conclusion arrived at being that it arose
from the use of an imperfect instrument that could only produce five
tones. Whatever the instrument so limited may have been, it was neither
the primitive flute (like the tin whistle) of six vents, which is
sufficient to produce well over an octave, nor was it the human voice.
The universal use of the five note scale among many nations wide apart
has never been satisfactorily explained. The following is an Irish
pentatonic traditional air.
That all traditional lore is subject to change is of course a
well-recognised fact, and this change is so uncertain in its effects,
and so erratic in its selection that no law appears to govern it. In
ballads or prose narratives that exist only by verbal transmission we
may expect the dropping of obsolete words and phrases, and this usually
occurs; though sometimes corruptions of such remain and are meaningless
to those who repeat them.
For instance, in a certain singing-game, children of a particular
district were accustomed to say—
“She knocked at the door and picked up a pin.” It is quite obvious that
the original stood—
“She knocked at the door and tirled at the pin.” The “tirling
pin” having completely gone out of usage, and even out of popular
remembrance, in the limited area where it formerly served the purpose
of attracting the attention of the householder, the phrase would have
no meaning to the modern child; hence the change into something more
comprehensible.
There is considerable analogy in the above to the change
that takes place in folk-music. But as musical phrases do not, at any rate
in folk-music, become so obsolete as words, the variation is less
considerable and is probably due to different causes. These are chiefly
wilful alteration for particular reasons, and unconscious change due to
lapse of memory, or imperfect hearing. We may usefully consider two or
three examples of these kinds of alterations. The tune “Greensleeves”
is a very characteristic instance. The first record of the song is at
the date 1580, when the ballad was entered at Stationers’ Hall. It is
evident that both words and tune became immediately popular, and from
that time to our own day it has always retained considerable favour,
for it was one of those stock tunes used for ephemeral political
ditties, and for the scraps of verse that were employed in the early
ballad operas. It is easy to trace, from the eighteenth century printed
copies, how the tendency has been to eliminate complex passages, and
generally to simplify, while retaining the essential features of the
tune. Probably this is its pure sixteenth century form—
| GREENSLEEVES |
| |
(Earliest form) 16th Century |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
[Listen] |
It is rather a shock to find that the beautiful air has by careless
transmission or wilful change got so degraded as finally to appear in a
manuscript book of fiddle airs dated 1838, thus,—
| GREENSLEEVES |
| |
From a Manuscript Book, dated 1838 |
 |
 |
 |
[Listen] |
Other copies which have deplorably lost much of the purity
of the original are to be seen in D’Urfey’s Wit and Mirth, The Beggar’s
Opera and other early eighteenth century publications. This is from an
edition of The Dancing Master, dated 1716:
| GREENSLEEVES AND YELLOW LACE |
| |
Printed 1716 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
[Listen] |
We may trace a curious corruption in the tune as found in traditional
usage in Ireland nearly eighty years ago. Thomas Moore employed this
traditional version for his song, “Oh, could we do with this world of
ours,” and published it united to his verses in his Irish Melodies,
the tenth number dated 1834. He gives the tune the name of “The Basket
of Oysters.” The real tune which went by this title, otherwise known
as “Paddy the Weaver,” is to be seen in Aird’s Selection of Scotch,
English, Irish and Foreign Airs, vol. iii., Glasgow [1788], and
elsewhere. It will be noticed that Moore’s tune is “Greensleeves,”
to which is joined a part of “Paddy the Weaver.” It is a notable example
of the manner in which traditional tunes suffer change from imperfect
remembrances or other causes.
| THE BASKET OF OYSTERS |
| |
Greensleeves, Irish Version, 1834 |
 |
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 |
 |
[Listen] |
A BASKET OF OYSTERS, OR PADDY THE WEAVER |
| |
From Aird’s “Selection,” 1788 |
 |
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 |
 |
[Listen] |
Although “Greensleeves” is probably not a folk-tune,
yet in some cases folk-tunes are apt to suffer a like degradation in character,
although it must be clearly stated that tradition frequently holds them together
in a wonderfully perfect manner.
In this latter case we may rank “Joan’s placket is torn,” which
survives in the modern “Cock o’ the North,” with “Greensleeves,” and
their histories are well worth recalling.
We may pass over the tradition that “Joan’s
placket” was played at the execution of Mary Queen of Scots. The
structure of the tune shows it to have been originally a trumpet tune,
and strangely enough throughout the whole course of its existence it
seems to have been used in defiance or ridicule. Mr Pepys tells us
that when the English sailors left the deserted “Royal Charles” in the
Medway in 1667, a Dutch trumpeter sounded the tune from the deck of the
captured ship. After this period political lampoons were adapted to
the melody. It is difficult to find out when the tune was first named
“The Cock o’ the North,” or when, under that title, it was adopted as a
British army tune, but there is a striking instance of its use during
the siege of Lucknow in the Mutiny of 1857. It was the practice to
signal by flag and bugle call from the City to the Residency, both in
a state of siege. On one occasion a drummer boy, named Ross, after the
signalling was over again climbed to the high dome from which it was
conducted, and in spite of the Sepoy rifles sounded “The Cock o’ the
North” as a defiance. We all know the story of the wounded piper,
shot in the ankle during the rush at Dargai, crouching behind a rock
and still sounding the pipe tune the “Cock o’ the North” that had
inspired the onslaught. How little the traditional “Cock o’ the North”
differs from “Joan’s Placket” the reader will be able to see from the
following copies:—
| JOAN’S PLACKET IS TORN |
| |
17th Century |
 |
 |
 |
[Listen] |
| THE COCK O’ THE NORTH |
| |
20th Century |
 |
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 |
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[Listen] |
Many other examples of traditional cohesion as regards folk-tunes might
be cited did space permit.
The tune “A sailor loved a farmer’s daughter,” given in Edward
Bunting’s Ancient Music of Ireland, 1840, has recently been noted
from a farm labourer by Mrs Stanton of Armscott, Warwickshire, in a
form practically identical with the printed version, though it is
quite evident that the tune noted in Warwickshire has had a source
independent of Bunting’s. Every collector could point to such instances
from his own experience.
Another fact forces itself into notice. A tune may develop by
traditional passage, or by wilful alteration, into several forms,
and thus we get airs having points of similarity but also points
of difference. In some cases the likeness may be so close that the
different tunes are classed as “variants.”
It must be realised that a folk-song singer is under no bond to sing
an air strictly as he has received it. Fortunately, in many cases, as
shown above, he does, and religiously adheres to the melody as far
as his memory, or skill, will permit. There are, however, difficult
tunes to remember as well as easy ones, and this fact has considerable
bearing on the question.
The reason why we find well-known folk-songs adapted to different airs
is somewhat obvious, and the following explanation may be I think
accepted. Where a singer reads a folk-song from a ballad sheet and does
not know its particular tune, it is easy to believe that he uses one
with which he is already familiar, or adapts one, or even composes an
air from the stock musical phrases that he knows in other melodies.
Thus we find folk-songs sung to many different airs, and this is not
evolution.
It may be noticed that in the lesser marked tunes, or rather less
original airs, stock musical phrases are in use just as the stock
phrases of the ballad-maker are employed by him over and over again.
The folk-song singer looks for and welcomes these passages. They are
conventional and are the most acceptable. Just as a child gives a
better welcome to a story beginning “Once upon a time” than to a less
hackneyed manner of opening, and as the folk-singer demands that every
girl shall be “a fair damsel,” that the incident of the song shall
happen “As I was a-walking one morning in May,” and that his mode of
address shall be “I stepped up boldly to her,” or the like, so there
are certain inevitable musical phrases in folk-music that one meets
with in a particular type of melody.
Waggish musicians are sometimes guilty of inventing “a folk-melody” for
the purpose of deceiving and laughing at collectors. The collector,
recognising the phrases he knows so well, may accept the tune as
genuine. He is not wrong or ignorant in this; the musician has got
possession of the material and spirit of folk-music, and then deception
is easy. A man may have a Johnsonian method of diction without having
the wit or learning of the great lexicographer, and might even pass off
a short speech as a genuine one of the Doctor’s.
These stock phrases are of course freely used in folk-music, and it
is quite easy for a singer of folk-song legitimately to make an air
for a ballad whose proper tune he may not know. This is another way
in which variation of tunes occurs, and such results are frequently
very puzzling to the expert. The singer may have remembered a passage
of a melody and to this he has fitted other phrases that he is also
familiar with. He is probably not conscious of the composite tune he is
making,—he may even think that he is singing the correct tune.
The strongest and most valuable feature of folk-song is its earnestness
and good faith. Though the quality of earnestness is indefinable it is
the soul of art work, and its presence is ever felt.
A folk-song may be very doggerel in verse, its subject trite and
trivial, yet it possesses that subtle character that has the appeal and
lasting power only belonging to sincerity. The maker of a folk-song
did not produce his work for professional reasons; he sang because he
must, and sometimes he was very ill-fitted for the task. Yet the work,
being done in good faith, has not only the power of appeal to the class
for which it was made, but also to a higher culture. Work of greater
cleverness if it lack this great asset of earnestness cannot do more
than please a particular cult for the moment.
As with folk-music and folk-song, so with the original folk-song
singer. In general he does not sing anything that is not fully in
accord with his own sentiments, and this is really why folk-song not
only keeps in favour with him, but also why it maintains its integrity
in tradition. It is seldom, except for the reasons I have before given,
that a folk-song singer wilfully alters his song. As I have said, he
may, and indeed frequently does, make unconscious changes, but he has a
respect for the songs handed down to him.
On the other hand a singer will without scruple rob another district
of its right in a folk-song. What in one district is “Scarbro’ Fair”
becomes “Whittingham Fair,” and “Birmingham Fair” becomes “Brocklesby
Fair,” according to the places where the songs are current. Otherwise
the song sustains no material change, and each set of singers will
declare their own version is the true one.
The drawing-room vocalist has not the same constancy to his songs as
the folk-song singer, nor have his songs the same stability. When
the stout respectable father of a family proclaims his passion for a
fascinating nymph, and entreats her to fly with him, his wife smiles
approval and silently applauds his efforts. When a feeble-looking
young man voices sentiments of a blood-thirsty or gruesome character
nobody is expected to believe him. In fact he is not in earnest, and in
neither of the two cases I have supposed do the singer’s voice their
general sentiments. On the other hand, the folk-song singer really
does feel the sentiments he sings. If he likes fox-hunting, he
sings a fox-hunting song, and is in perfect agreement with the ditty
that proclaims fox-hunting a noble sport. And the song represents his
feelings when he sings of the joys of farming, or of good liquor, or
any other subject that appeals to him as a man, including love. When a
young girl or even an old lady sings—
“Oh, my very heart is breaking
All for the love of him,”
we may be quite sure that this puts into song some sentiments
that either hold possession of the soul or recalls certain sacred memories.
Such songs as voice commonly felt sentiments are quickly diffused over
the countryside, and they are to be found very widely spread. Where
songs deal with the usages of a district, which, from some cause or
another, do not obtain elsewhere, they are less likely to travel.
For example, we find few harvest-home songs current in the north
of England, and not so many that deal with the joys of farming. In
the south-west, where there are large tracts of agricultural land,
and more organised merry-makings at the close of the harvest, or at
sheep-shearing, there are plenty of songs which proclaim that the life
of a farmer, or a ploughman, is all that can be desired.
In the North, where there is more grazing land, and the harvest is
harder to wring from the soil, this type of song scarcely exists. The
fact is therefore again forced upon us that the folk-song singer, or
maker, deals with things with which he is most familiar. Except for
these limitations it is unsafe to class a folk-song as “Yorkshire,”
“Devonshire,” or otherwise fix it to a particular county.
There are, of course, a very small number of folk-songs that obviously
belong to certain districts, but because a song is sung or noted
in one county we cannot claim that such county is the place of its
origin. Before folk-song collecting was so general as at present it
was frequently customary to fall into this error, but as collectors
and their published “finds” have increased in number, it has become
apparent that folk-songs have been very widespread.
For some reason a song may linger longer in one place than another.
Such a one may be compared to the snow which may have completely
covered a hill-side, but ultimately melting leaves its remnants only in
the sheltered nooks, to disappear last of all.
In a similar way we may find that a dialect word which might be hastily
assumed to belong strictly to, say, Yorkshire, is used in another part
of the country—quite remote, and is generally considered to be a local
word. Instances of such might be given, and we may speculate as to how
the word, or the song has got there, whether by travel, or whether,
like the snowdrift, by survival.
It remains now to consider what has been done towards the noting of
traditionary songs and their airs. Little attention was paid to the
songs sung by country singers prior to the first half of the nineteenth
century. In England, the first step toward the recognition of country
folk-song was made by the Rev. John Broadwood, squire of Lyne, on
the Sussex and Surrey border. In 1843 he published (modestly keeping
his name from the title page) a collection of sixteen songs which
were harmonised by a country organist. The title of the Rev. John
Broadwood’s book is lengthy, but so curious and explanatory that I
reproduce it. The work itself is of extraordinary rarity.
“Old English Songs, as now sung by the peasantry of the weald of Surrey
and Sussex, and collected by one who has learnt them by hearing them
sung every Christmas from early childhood by the country people who go
about to the neighbouring houses, singing, or ‘wassailing,’ as it is
called, at that season. The airs are set to music exactly as they are
now sung, to rescue them from oblivion, and to afford a specimen of
genuine old English Melody, and the words are given in their original
rough state with an occasional slight alteration to render the sense
intelligible. Harmonised for the collector, in 1843, by G. A. Dusart,
organist to the Chapel of Ease at Worthing, London. Published for
the Collector by Balls & Co., 408 Oxford St. for private circulation
(folio, pp. 32).”
It was about this time that William Chappell was bringing into notice
the fine store of English melodies, which were then quite unknown save
to a few musical antiquaries. He had already published a couple of
volumes of airs, but in 1856 he commenced the issue of his Popular
Music of the Olden Time, and among the tunes there printed he included
a small number of traditional melodies which he had taken down chiefly
in the South of England. Many of these have won their way into the
hearts of lovers of our national music, and it seems a pity that
they are omitted from the new edition of Chappell’s work. For a long
time after Chappell’s publication little attention was paid to the
folk-songs of our own country, though many German songs that claimed
to be people’s song obtained considerable favour with us. About 1878
a revival of interest in the Northumbrian small pipes caused a search
to be made for pipe tunes, and Mr John Stokoe, of South Shields,
was an active worker in the field. Commencing in December 1878 he
contributed to the Newcastle Courant a series of pipe and fiddle
tunes once popular among Northumbrian pipers. They were chiefly taken
from manuscript collections, but while the airs were, in many cases,
merely transcripts from books of printed tunes for the violin or flute,
published in England and Scotland during the eighteenth and early
nineteenth centuries, there remained a number of traditional melodies
of purely Northumbrian usage.
In 1882, under the auspices of the Society of Antiquaries,
Newcastle-on-Tyne, Mr Stokoe, in collaboration with Dr Collingwood
Bruce, published a volume entitled Northumbrian Minstrelsy, and here
the Courant tunes were republished with other material. The work has
the fault of including as fresh material much of what had already been
printed in early dance collections and elsewhere, but having small
claim to be considered as of Northumbrian origin.
A book of traditional nursery rhymes, chiefly from a Northumbrian
source, had already been issued (in 1877) by Miss M. A. Mason. In
1888 a small illustrated booklet, The Besom Maker and other Country
Folk-Songs, containing nine songs, was issued by Mr Heywood Sumner.
It was about this period that a wave of sympathy impelled several
persons to turn their attention to the consideration of the songs sung
by rustics and other persons who remembered the songs sung by their
parents or elders. Most persons were under the impression that these
country songs were merely remembrances from printed sources, and that
practically little, or nothing, existed purely traditionary.
A little study of the question, however, soon convinced Miss Lucy E.
Broadwood, Dr William Alexander Barrett, the Rev. Sabine Baring-Gould,
and the present writer to the contrary.
Miss Broadwood, then living at Lyne in Sussex, found an unworked mine
of great richness among the country people of her district. The late
Dr Barrett had already gathered much, chiefly in the South of England,
while a chance suggestion at a dinner-table caused Mr Baring-Gould to
turn his attention to the collecting of the song current in Devonshire
and Cornwall. Mr Baring-Gould absolutely revelled in this work, and his
wild journeys over Dartmoor, with periods of settling down for a time
at village inns, brought him in a plentiful harvest of charming songs
and delightful melody. In this task he was associated with the Rev. H.
Fleetwood Sheppard and Mr F. W. Bussell. The work of these collectors
saw publication in Songs of the West, the first part of which was
issued about 1889, and the fourth and last part in 1891.
Another work of Mr Baring-Gould’s, in conjunction with the late Mr
Sheppard, is a Garland of Country Songs, 1895. This is some portion
of the material left over from Songs of the West; both were published
by Methuen. A re-issue of Songs of the West with additions appeared
in 1905.
A small part of Miss Broadwood’s work was incorporated in English
County Songs, which she edited in collaboration with Mr J. A. Fuller
Maitland in 1893. The great popularity of this work is justified by its
excellence. A further selection appeared in English Traditional Songs
and Carols (Boosey, 1908).
Dr Wm. Alex. Barrett, in February 1891, a few months prior to his
death, issued, through Novello & Co., English Folk-Songs, a most
interesting collection of fifty-four songs, some of which, however, are
to be found in print in earlier publications.
In the spring of 1891 the present writer issued the result of his
collecting under the title Traditional Tunes, a collection of ballad
airs chiefly obtained in Yorkshire and the South of Scotland, by Frank
Kidson.
After these publications no further work on English folk-song appeared
before the formation of the Folk-Song Society. This society, the most
important factor in calling attention to the existence of unnoted
folk-song, owed its existence to three or four enthusiasts in the cause
who saw the utility of such a thing. At first it was projected as a
branch of the Folk-Lore Society, but, finally, it was thought advisable
that it should stand alone. The Folk-Song Society was duly formed on
June 16th, 1898. The first president was the late Lord Herschell; the
vice-presidents the late Sir John Stainer, Sir Alexander Mackenzie, Sir
Hubert Parry, Professor (now Sir Charles) Stanford, and the committee
as follows—Mrs Frederick Beer, Miss Lucy E. Broadwood, Sir Ernest
Clarke, Mr W. H. Gill, Mrs (now Lady) Gomme, Messrs A. P. Graves, (the
late) E. F. Jacques, Frank Kidson, J. A. Fuller Maitland, J. P. Rogers,
W. Barclay Squire, and Dr Todhunter. The late Mrs Kate Lee acted as
Hon. Secretary and Mr A. Kalisch as Hon. Treasurer, both being on the committee.
In the first year 110 members joined; at the present time there are
probably more than three times that number. In 1904 Miss Lucy E.
Broadwood became Hon. Secretary, and the useful work of the society
advanced by leaps and bounds. Mrs Walter Ford, and Mr Frederick Keel,
the present secretary, followed Miss Broadwood.
The “Journals” of the Society, which by January 1914 had reached
eighteen issues, are of the utmost importance in the study of
folk-song. They contain material gathered by members of the Society
in different parts of the United Kingdom. The original members of the
Council of the Folk-Song Society who have died or retired have been
replaced by musicians and collectors equally enthusiastic, and such
additional names as Dr Vaughan Williams, Mr Percy Grainger, Mr Clive
Carey, and Mr Cecil J. Sharp bear witness to the excellent hands in
which the Society is held.
It would be invidious to name the individual members who have supplied
matter to the Journals of the Folk-Song Society, but besides the above
named, Miss A. G. Gilchrist, the late Dr Gardiner, the late H. E. D.
Hammond, Mrs Leather, Miss Tolmie (with her Gaelic songs), and Mr W.
P. Merrick have all contributed largely and well. Miss Gilchrist has
written with great knowledge on the construction of folk-tunes, and has
supplied other notes of much value.
English folk-song and folk-music has been utilised in several
compositions by Dr Vaughan Williams, Mr H. Balfour Gardiner, Mr Rutland
Boughton, and Mr Percy Grainger.
The part that Mr Cecil Sharp has taken in the advancement of folk-song
is well known. He has collected extensively, chiefly in Somerset, and
his vigorous methods of bringing the subject before the public have
caused “folk-song” to become a household word wherever the English
language is spoken.
When the songs and the ballads of the people began to be recognised
as belonging, more or less, to literature, the editors of collections
deemed it was essential that their crudities of style, rhyme, and
diction should be amended, and that the whole should undergo a
polishing process before being launched to the public.
Bishop Percy, of course, naturally occurs to one’s mind in this
connection, and we must grant that in the classic age when he issued
his three volumes (1765) there was reason on his side, and he had some
justification for the trimming he did—the world was not yet ripe for
the folk-ballad collector.
There is much reason to suspect the later editors of ballad lore did
as much as Percy in the work of polishing, and even went beyond him
by pure fabrication. No excuse for such work as this nowadays exists.
People are quite prepared to accept fragments of traditional ballads or
songs precisely in the state they are sung or recited.
In a much lesser degree the same kind of thing held as regards certain
earlier collectors of folk-music. This attitude was not one of deceit,
but rather of ignorance. The modal influence on folk-music was not
understood. As a consequence intervals were altered to conform to the
harmony of another scale. As folk-music began to be better realised
more scientific knowledge was brought to bear on the subject, and every
nerve strained to obtain accuracy of notation.
The phonograph at once suggested itself as a ready and accurate
instrument for the work of noting traditional melody, and many
collectors employ it for this purpose. There is, however, a section
of workers in folk-song who rather mistrust its claim to give the
best results. The motive that inspires the use of the phonograph is
praiseworthy in the extreme, but those opposed to its use suggest that
these results are sometimes not very satisfactory where transcriptions
taken directly from phonograph records have been published. They are
generally complex and confusing, and for examples of the excessively
elaborate rhythms and shifting tonality from phonographic records,
the reader is invited to refer to some particular Journals of the
Folk-Song Society. The transcriber should certainly bear in mind that
mixed rhythms (2-4 time changing to 6-8, 7-8, 4-4, 5-8, and so forth
in one short air) can hardly belong to the original structure of the
tune, but rather to the method of singing it. If the performance of any
great singer were phonographed, and its actual note-value faithfully
transcribed, this would scarcely be considered a fair way of treating
it. It would show a complexity of rhythms of which both the singer and
the audience would be quite unaware. The composer would most certainly
repudiate such a notation, though he might be quite satisfied with
the singer’s treatment of the piece. He would claim that the most
legitimate method would be to indicate time-deviations by the ordinary
accepted marks of expression.
The difficulty of noting melodies from the ordinary possessor of
folk-song is very great, and varies with every singer. Some are a
delight to listen to, others, though it is quite evident that they
possess songs and melodies of the highest interest, produce an opposite
effect on the listener. A phonographic record from one would be a joy,
from the other a painful experience.
Practically every singer of original folk-song is an amateur, and
this by no means lessens the beauty of his singing; in many cases,
though, it offers much disadvantage to the one who notes his tunes.
Unconsciously the vocalist sings the air frequently with more or
less slight difference, and is sometimes not quite true to his note
or key. Any mechanical contrivance for noting his song reproduces
these inaccuracies, and, what is still more to the point, eight
folk-singers out of ten asked to sing into that strange funnel above
a moving cylinder will be nervous and not sing their best, either in
time or tune. A sturdy young farmer, perhaps, who knows all about
the gramophone, may come out of the ordeal with flying colours, and
his strong masculine voice be reproduced with good effect, but not
so a feeble old lady whose songs can only be obtained by careful
tact and sympathetic manner, nor can such be noted otherwise than by
getting constant repetitions and making selections from her differing
renderings.
It is the business of the folk-song collector not to make a hard and
fast record of one rendering of a folk-tune, with all its accidental
inaccuracies, but to obtain what the singer obviously means. Where
possible, the best rendering should be given in its full integrity, and
any emendation stated as such, with reasons given for the alteration.
It is too much to expect that every folk-song singer should be a
paragon of faithful accuracy. In many cases, as before observed, he
sings his tune with some difference on occasions, and this is due to
slips of memory, to wilful alteration, when he thinks such alterations
an improvement, and to extraneous influences—nervousness and the like.
Therefore the collector to give a true rendering of the original
folk-melody should get as many notations of it as possible, and make
such selection as his judgment and knowledge dictate. The ordinary
simple “composed” tune generally continues throughout its length in one
character of rhythm or time. The folk-air as sung to-day frequently
ignores this rule, and may have passages in the middle of it which
differ from the general run of the tune. The earlier collectors ignored
this fact, and practically always placed such airs under one time
signature, considering that any alteration of time-rhythm made by the
singer was a grammatical error on his part. In some cases they were
probably right, but recent comparisons of certain tunes, noted by
different collectors in various parts of the country, go to prove that,
to give particular effect to certain word passages, many folk-tunes
have been composed with deliberate intention of breaking rhythm. The
wary collector, therefore, while he is fully alive to the knowledge
that folk-singers are not always to be relied upon for accurate
transmission, is also aware of the fact I have above indicated.
The folk-song that does, or did within recent years, exist is manifold
in its variety. It reflects very accurately the type of thought
that is, or was, current among the class who sang it. Its limits
are strictly within their understanding, though now and again its
commonplaces are tinged with romance. Yet this romance is not above the
comprehension of the most humble and constitutes a grown-up’s fairy
tale.
It tells its story or voices its sentiment in the fewest possible
words, and in tragedy is almost Biblical in narrative.
A consideration of a few of its types may be useful.
This in its earliest form is, without doubt, the oldest surviving kind
of folk-song. In all cases it is a long rhyming story which tells of
events more or less romantic, and more or less true. It is probable
that such ballads have come down to us from the middle ages, when
professional glee-men, or minstrels, went from one noble house to
another and sang such lyrics to the harp or to other accompaniment.
The stories are dramatic and sufficiently well-marked in character to
be easily remembered. Obsolete expressions may be changed or may even
remain, but the essentials of the story will be retained.
We have sufficient remnants on ballad sheets as well as in popular
remembrance to show that there must have been an enormous number
of these lyrical narratives in common currency. How long these had
remained in oral transmission before being printed on ballad sheets
is a question not easily answered. The question whether, in some
instances, they were printed before being handed to the people may be
answered in the affirmative in respect to a certain number of obviously
later ballads.
The ballad-seller was bound to provide new wares for his patrons, and
his trade could not go on without fresh material. Undoubtedly many of
the ballads he printed were a re-dishing up of old stories, and many
rhymesters, in default of newer ideas, fell back upon the Greek classic
stories for subject. In fact, the common person of the sixteenth
century might claim to be more familiar with the Homeric romance than
the average “man in the street” of to-day. These can scarcely be called
folk-ballads in the strictest sense, because they are evidently the
work of people educated enough to put such matter from the classic, as
well as from Italian authors, into doggerel verse.
The man of an earlier period was as anxious for novelty as he is
to-day. The only difference is this—at the present time novelties so
crowd upon him that they become stale very rapidly. In the “golden age”
people gave leisurely consideration to and digested that which was put
before them. Hence it was held tenaciously in memory, and ballads and
tales lost none of their interest.
The invention of printing wrought a great change in every direction,
and when the press gave forth the ballad sheet it produced a new era
in folk-singing. The ballad sheet is so inextricably mixed up with the
folk-song that, for a clear understanding, it will be necessary to
devote some pages to it later on.
It is a noteworthy fact that among our ballad literature we find
numbers of stories that are practically the same in other languages and
current in other countries. If we find, as we frequently do, a ballad
common amongst Scandinavian folk that is also known in England, or
perhaps Brittany, we cannot safely determine its original birthplace,
for there can be no doubt that popular folk-tales and ballads travelled
from one country to another in a very remarkable degree.
Scotland has always been famous for her wealth of dramatic ballads. No
man can read unmoved the many fine ballad narratives that are published
in her ballad books, and without wondering whence came the rich flow of
fancy and poetic beauty that inspired them.
In spite of all that has been written, much regarding the Scottish
ballads remains a mystery. The early collectors appear to have had
little scruple in regard to the ballads being printed exactly as
received.
One thing we have satisfaction in, namely, that ballads of this
character did exist, and that emendation of phrase, or addition of
verse, affects the matter, on the whole, very little. The consideration
of the Scottish ballad is, however, outside our inquiry, although
some narrative lyrics that are commonly thought to have had origin in
Scotland are found among English folk-singers. Of these, “Lammikin,”
collected by Miss Broadwood in Surrey, is a notable example, as also
the different versions of “The Gipsy Laddie,” and one or two others
that may be found in the Folk-Song Society’s Journals. Certainly
the best-known narrative ballad among English folk-singers is
“Lord Bateman,” and versions of this exist in the Scottish ballad
collections. “Barbara Allan” is another that has a Scottish variant,
while the “Blind Beggar of Bethnal Green” seems to be entirely English.
“Lord Thomas and Fair Eleanor,” “The Outlandish Knight,” “Geordie” are
long ballads which, in a more or less fragmentary state, have been
found in nearly every part of England.
One or two of the Robin Hood ballads have also been recovered from
tradition, but such are, strangely enough, not common. All the tunes
found united to the above-named narrative ballads appear to be ancient
and contemporary with early versions of the words.
Love holds first place in all lyrics, and there is no exception to this
rule in the folk-song. There is, however, this difference;—whilst the
art-song is frequently couched in language abstract and sentimental,
and enriched with metaphor and simile, the folk-song is almost always
direct, and from its baldness of diction possessed of great force.
The declaration of love in a folk-song is simple, and there is no
mincing of words. It is unmistakably fervent and in earnest. The
tragedy of a girl’s forsakenness is Biblical in its plainness;
sometimes it is a song rather of triumph than pity.
Few more beautiful and direct specimens of the former type exist than
the one beginning—
“A brisk young farmer courted me,
He stole away my liberty,
He stole my heart with my free goodwill,
I must confess I love him still.
There is an ale-house in this town,
Where my love goes and sits him down;
He takes another girl on his knee,
Ah! is not that a grief to me?
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”;
and so forth.
Another very beautiful love song is “The bonnie bonnie boy” noted by
Miss Broadwood, and published in English County Songs. It opens—
“I once loved a boy, a bonnie, bonnie boy,
I loved him I’ll vow and protest.
I loved him so well, and so very, very well,
That I built him a bower in my breast,” etc.
A great feature in the love song of the folk-singer is the use of
allegory. The words “thyme,” “rue,” the “broom,” “barley,” “wearing
the green gown,” and several other similes are freely used, and have
an original meaning, for the most part, hidden from the modern singer.
The ever popular “I sowed the seeds of love,” in which is inextricably
entangled that other song, “The sprig of thyme,” is an inoffensive
example of this type. The latter runs—
“Come all you pretty fair maids
That are just in your prime,
I’d have you weed your garden clear
And let no one steal your thyme.
I once had a sprig of thyme,
It prospered night and day;
By chance there came a false young man
And he stole my thyme away,” etc.
As can be well realised, examples of love songs could be given to any extent.
The folk-singer delights in something that gives a thrill of mysticism,
and there are many having this characteristic in traditional
remembrance. “The unquiet grave” is an example in point. It begins—
“Cold blows the wind over my true love,
And cold blows the drops of rain.
I never, never had but one true love,
And in the greenwood he was slain,” etc.
“The Cruel Ship’s Carpenter,” and “The Nightingale” have each a ghost,
as in a like manner has the one just quoted.
Of the mystic class is “The Prickly Bush.” It is undoubtedly very old
and is found in different forms among country singers. A copy occurs in
English County Songs—
“‘O Hangman hold thy hand,’ he c‘ied,
‘O hold thy hand awhile,
For I can see my own dear father
Coming over yonder stile.
Oh, the prickly, prickly bush,
The prickly, prickly bush,
It pricked my hand full sore;
If ever I get out of the prickly bush,
I’ll never get in any more,’” etc.
Common all over the country, with place names that vary according to
the district, is “The Lover’s Test,” sometimes called “Scarborough
Fair.” The lover in this demands a cambric shirt made without needle
and thread, and other impossibilities, with the reward that the lady
shall then be his true love. The lady, equally ready, demands an acre
of land between the sea foam and the sea sand. This is to be ploughed
with a ram’s horn, and to be sown all over with one peppercorn, and so
on. When all this is done the lover can come for his cambric shirt.
The story is a version of “The Elfin Knight,” and of the same type as
“Captain Wedderburn’s Courtship.”
The pastoral song is fairly frequent, especially in the Southern
counties of England. Its chief theme is the joys of country life. Such
are the songs in which the ploughman is the chief personage, and one
who glories in his calling. In Sussex Songs we find a very typical
example—
“Come all ye jolly ploughboys, come listen to my lays,
And join with me in chorus, I’ll sing the ploughboy’s praise.
My song is of the ploughboy’s fame,
And unto you I’ll relate the same,
He whistles, sings, and drives his team,
The brave ploughing boy.”
Then there are sheep-shearing songs, some of which may be seen in Dr
Barrett’s English Folk-Songs and elsewhere. English County Songs
provides this ordinary example—
“Our sheep shear is over, and supper is past;
Here’s a health to our mistress all in vull glaas,
For she’s a good ’ooman and purvides us good cheer,
Here’s a health to our mistress, so drink up your beer.”
Other verses would, of course, provide for consumption of more beer
by drinking the health of all the members of the family, and of such
neighbours as the contents of the barrel allowed.
Harvest-home songs too are not lacking, and a small number take the
form of a dialogue between a gardener and a ploughman, or between a
husbandman and a serving-man.
A famous song well known among farm-labourers is that known as “Poor
Old Horse,” and of this there are several versions. This song probably
suggested to Charles Dibdin his once popular song “The High-Mettled
Racer,” and to Thomas Bewick, the wood-engraver, his fine print of a
worn-out horse in the rain called “Waiting for Death.”
The ploughboy is sometimes in love and sings of his passion in the
folk-song. Sometimes it is the lady who declares her love for the
handsome ploughboy, and both varieties are quite popular specimens of
rural simplicity.
The drinking song is not very common among folk-songs. “The good old
leathern bottle,” and some other South country songs, chiefly dealing
with harvest-home festivities, can scarcely be called such. They
speak of the home-brewed farm ale in an honest fashion, and without
the gloating over liquor which is so much a feature of the eighteenth
century bacchanalian song. “When Joan’s ale was new” is popular over
most parts of England, and “Drink old England dry” is another very
harmless production.
The humorous song does not very frequently occur. Sometimes we may come
across one that fulfils all the essentials of wit but will scarcely
bear repetition. Others are humorous and in other respects quite
satisfactory. “Richard of Taunton Dean” is too well known to quote, and
“The Dumb Wife Cured” is another that has been frequently reprinted,
and it is possibly, really, not a folk-song. “The Grey Mare” is an
excellent example. It tells of a young miller who made overtures to a
young lady’s father to obtain her hand. The dowry was agreed upon, save
that the young man had fixed his mind upon the farmer’s grey mare
as part of it. The old man not being inclined to part with this the
bargain was “off.” After the death of the farmer the miller again
sought the lady, who declared she did not know him. Except that
“A man in your likeness,
With long yellow hair,
Did once come a-courting
My father’s grey mare.”
“Eggs in the basket,” narrating the adventures of two sailors, of which
there are several versions in the Folk-Song Journal, comes under
the category of humorous songs, and the Devonshire song “Widdicombe
Fair” has, since its publication in Songs of the West, met with wide
appreciation. Songs in dispraise of a married life are not frequent
in folk-song, but there is a well-known one in “Advice to Bachelors,”
in Dr Barrett’s English Folk-Songs, that appears to be a genuine
folk-song. Its end verse contains the gist of the story. A criminal
under the gallows is offered free pardon if he will marry, but—
“He pondered deep, for life is dear,
But still he thought without a fear
That wives are cheap, and he knew well
How much his sorrows one might swell.
There’s people here of every sort,
And why should I prevent their sport?
The bargain’s hard in every part;
But the woman’s the worst—
Drive on the cart!”
If the pressgang was an unpleasant factor in eighteenth century life,
so also were the footpad and highwayman. The highwayman generally
claimed the sympathy of the folk-song maker on the ground that—
“He never robbed a poor man upon the King’s highway,” and that his
takings from the rich were distributed among the poor. This atoned
for all crimes against person and property that were committed by
such men as “Brennan on the Moor,” the hero of a very favourite
ballad. Sometimes these highwayman songs take a more moral tone, and
the criminal, in the condemned cell, offers his fate as a warning to
others. Charles Reilly, for example, sings—
“Adieu, adieu, I must meet my fate,
I was brought up in a tender state,
Until bad counsel did me entice
To leave off work, and follow vice.
Which makes me to lament and say,
As in my doleful cell I lay,
‘Pity the fall of young fellows all;
Ah well a day! Ah well a day!’
At seventeen I took a wife;
She was the joy of all my life,
And to maintain her rich and gay,
I went to rob on the King’s highway,
Which makes me to lament and say,” etc.
Poaching was a matter so near the class that sang folk-songs that
as a subject it could not fail in interest. If the folk-singer
was not himself a poacher he was sufficiently in touch to feel a
brotherly sympathy with him in his misfortunes, and in his triumphs,
over the gamekeeper. As a consequence there are many poaching songs
well known in rural districts, as—“Young Henry the poacher,” “The
Sledmere poachers,” “The death of Bill Brown,” “Hares in the old
plantation,” etc.
Highway robbery and poaching led to execution and transportation, and
both these are subjects for the folk-song maker. The execution songs
appear, however, generally to be the work of professional ballad
makers, and the “last dying speech and confession” of a criminal, with
appended verses, was in print long before he had paid the penalty of
his crime. The ballad was sung to one or other of those doleful tunes
especially appropriated to this kind of song by the ballad chanter, who
hawked the broadsides through the towns on the night of the execution.
Frequently the tag to such ditties was—
“Young men all now beware
How you fall into a snare.”
In a somewhat similar strain are the songs that tell of the miseries of
transportation to Van Diemen’s Land, for poaching or other offences.
Of soldier songs the folk-singer has comparatively few. One of the
prettiest is that indifferently called “The Summer Morning,” or “The
White Cockade.” It commences—
“It was one Monday morning, as I came 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 advancèd me 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 the love of him!”
Another soldier’s song popular among folk-singers is “Pretty Polly
Oliver,” or “Polly Oliver’s Ramble.”
“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.”
Polly dresses herself in male attire, mounts her father’s black
gelding, and joins the regiment, with the captain of which she is in love.
Then we have the pathetic “Deserter.”
“When first I deserted I thought myself free
Until my false comrade informed on me.”
Another favourite is “The Gentleman Soldier,” and yet another, “The
bonny Scotch lad with his bonnet so blue.” The battle of Waterloo gave
rise to several long ballads descriptive of the fight, and these in
their full integrity of twenty or thirty verses used, not long ago, to
be remembered by old soldiers.
These have always been welcome among English singers, and our nation
has a plenitude of fine ones. In folk-song they generally take a
narrative form and treat of adventures with pirates, and the like.
Examples of this type are “Paul Jones,” “Ward the pirate,” “Henry
Martin,” “The bold Princess Royal,” and some others. The pressgang
songs might, in a sense, go under the heading “sailor songs,” and,
certainly, the Chanty, but these are dealt with separately. “The Golden
Vanity” is popular, so is “The Mermaid,” and both are well known to
modern singers. “The Greenland Whale Fishery” is a fine example of a
genuine whaling ditty (see A Garland of Country Songs), and “All on
Spurn Point” is a narrative of a wreck.
The charming song “Stowbrow,” or the “Drowned Sailor,” is chiefly known
on the Yorkshire coast.
“The Cruel Ship’s Carpenter” is a story of a murder and a ghost, which
follows the murderer to sea and denounces him. “William Taylor” (of
which a parody exists) is fairly well known.
“The Coasts of Barbary” is a fine sea song, and “The Indian Lass,”
“Just as the tide was flowing,” “On board a man-of-war,” “Outward
bound,” and “The bold privateers” are sea songs that are commonly
known but can boast no great degree of antiquity. “Fair Phœbe and her
dark-ey’d sailor,” and “The broken token”—the one being a variation of
the other—are songs that fall under the heading “Love Songs.”
These have a greater dramatic effect than any other type before dealt
with. In the eighteenth century, when the constant war with France
demanded a supply of men to man the navy, the pressgang was a very
vital thing in the lives of the humbler classes. The law empowered
(under a press warrant) officers of the King’s Navy to seize any man,
with few exceptions, and then and there remove him to a King’s ship
to serve as a common sailor. Violence was freely used, and at dead
of night whole villages were cleared of their male inhabitants, and
husbands and bread-winners dragged away, never, in most cases, to
return. Such occurrences were well within the memory of those only just
passed away. With such happenings in their midst, the folk-song makers
had no lack of thrilling and appealing material. The romantic element
was not absent, for it was quite possible, as the folk-song generally
makes it, for an irate father to bribe the pressgang for the removal of
an undesirable young ploughman, and so put an end to the love passages
that existed between his daughter and him, thus leaving the ground
clear for a wealthier or more favoured suitor. Poetic justice is
almost always satisfied in the song by the lady seeking her true love
on shipboard, and, by the production of “gold,” reclaiming him. “The
Banks of Sweet Dundee,” which is widespread and a universal favourite,
affords an excellent example of the pressgang song.
The beautiful song beginning—
“’Twas early, early in the Spring
My love was pressed to serve the King,”
and that one called “The Nightingale,” are earlier in date and quite
charming specimens of the class.
The folk-singer does not lack songs dealing with the sports he loves.
The fox-and hare-hunting songs are in a degree reflexes of the
eighteenth century ones—of great compass, and of much allusion to the
Greek gods. It is in these that Diana, Aurora and Phœbus figure so largely.
The folk-song that deals with hunting, generally is local in its
narrative, and tells of some particular famous fox hunt or hare
hunt, naming every squire or yeoman farmer that joined in it. “The
Fylingdale Foxhunt” in Traditional Tunes is a good and typical
example. In the same work will be found “The White Hare” (a description
of a hare hunt), and a song of a not very frequent type detailing a
cock fight.
Primitive folk appear to have always had particular songs appropriate
to specific kinds of labour. Such songs seem to have been traditionally
associated with each class of work, and to have been used either to
give a marked rhythm, by which the efforts of a number of people are
united at a certain moment (as the pull upon a rope), or generally to
lighten work, an effect which song certainly has. It is well known that
girls in a weaving shop, or other factory, work twice as well and feel
the strain lighter while they are singing in chorus some favourite song
or hymn. Soldiers on the march are less tired if the men are allowed
to sing, or while the band plays. The Irish regiments marched out of
Brussels before Waterloo to the strains of the then popular Moore’s
“Melodies,” “The Young May Moon” being among the favourites. The men
of the North during the American Civil War were cheered by the song
“John Brown’s Body,” and our own soldiers in South Africa sung, with
deep meaning (considering that the Boers always managed to have the
advantage of the crest of the hill), “All that ever I want is a little
bit off the top.” Every great river of the world has its boat songs;
in most cases used by the rowers as an aid to their work. Specimens of
these river boat songs have been noted in China, India, on the Nile,
and elsewhere. The well-known “Canadian Boat Song,” of Thomas Moore,
was adapted by him from a chant he himself heard on the St Lawrence
river, the original of which chant, by the way, differs materially from
the version he published.
The Sea Chanty is too wide a subject to be dealt with in this small
volume. Its purpose is to give time to the pull of a rope, the thrust
against a capstan bar, or on occasions when the pumps have to be used.
The “Chanty” may be almost spoken of as obsolete. Its real home was the
sailing vessel, but, at the present day, steam does so much of what
formerly was man’s labour, that the chanty has almost died a natural death.
There were capstan, pumping, and hauling chanties, and those used in
furling sail, apart from the sailors’ songs pure and simple. The sea
chanty was generally commenced by a leader—the chanty man, who would
perhaps string a few extemporary rough rhymes together, fitted to a
well-known tune, while the men joined in a recognised nonsense chorus
as they did the pulling, thrusting, or other work required.
The Chanties mostly in evidence amongst the English, or
English-speaking, sailors are “Whiskey for my Johnnie,” “Haul the
bowline,” “We’re all bound to go,” “The Rio Grande,” “Reuben Ranzo,”
“Tom’s gone to Ilo,” “Storm Along,” “Lowlands,” “Santa Anna,” “Sally
Brown,” “Banks of Sacramento,” and many others, copies of which, with
most of the above, are to be found in the Folk-Song Journals. The
fact cannot be ignored that there is decided American influence in most
of the sea chanties, and that points to them being interchangeable
between the English and the American sailor. The ships trading to San
Francisco and other sailing vessels that took long voyages round the
“Horn” were fit resting-places for the chanty. In former times, on the
old man-of-war ships, a fiddler was frequently requisitioned, or the
anchor was raised to the music of a fife.
Songs of occupation appear to have lingered longest, in the United
Kingdom, in the Hebrides, and quite recently there have been published
in the Folk-Song Journal a number of interesting examples collected
by Miss Tolmie. Others have been obtained by Mrs Kennedy Fraser.
The boat songs, or “Iorrams,” are a feature of Gaelic music, as are the
“luinigs” sung by the women as songs to lighten work where there are a
number of people employed at any one occupation.
Gaelic music and song is outside the scope of this manual; although the
subject of the work-songs used in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland
is here lightly referred to for the purpose of indicating to the student
that such a class of song is still in existence in the British Isles.
That a large number of carols existed in a purely traditional form was
somewhat of a revelation, even to the folk-song collector, when Miss
Lucy Broadwood, Mr Cecil Sharp, and Dr Vaughan Williams published their
“finds” in the Folk-Song Journal. Mr Robin H. Legge, as early as
1890, or before, had collected a number of traditional carols
in Cornwall, but his valuable manuscript collection of them was
accidentally destroyed.
Some of the folk-carols that have lately been recovered embody curious
legends, the origin of which is difficult to trace. “The Bitter Withy”
is one of these, and of this particular carol several variants have
been obtained, chiefly in the Midland Counties. The story is to the
effect that the infant Jesus being reproached for His humble birth by
His play-fellows, “lords’ and ladies’ sons,” makes a bridge over water
with the beams of the sun, and passes safely over; His companions who
follow Him being drowned. His Mother, Mary, chides Him and whips Him
with a bunch of the withy (willow) twigs. Jesus then lays a curse on
the willow and ordains that it shall for ever be rotten at the heart.
Another singular carol noted by Miss Broadwood is “King Pharaoh.” It
was obtained from the singing of gypsies in Sussex. Another version as
“King Herod and the Cock” was obtained by Mr Cecil Sharp, and earlier
versions, as “The Carnel and the Crane,” are to be found in Sandys’
Christmas Carols, and elsewhere. A roasted cock that crows three
times and corn which is in ear and ripened the same day are the chief
points in the story, as miracles that occur to testify to the divine
origin of the infant Christ.
“The Moon shines bright,” “The Cherry-tree Carol,” “The joys of Mary,”
with “God rest you merry gentlemen,” are all folk-carols, but words and
tunes have long been in print.
There are two different types of carol—the religious, dealing with
the Holy Nativity, and the festive. “Here we come a-wassailing” is
a folk-carol of the latter kind, and there are many others of this
character. One of the best known, which is yet sung traditionally,
is the carol which, from some cause, is named as belonging to Gloucestershire—
“Wassail, wassail all over the town,
Our toast it is white, and our ale it is brown,
Our bowl it is made of the maplin tree,
So here’s good fellow, I’ll drink to thee,” etc.
The Gloucestershire rustics singing the song used formerly to go from
house to house bearing a gaily decorated maple-wood potato bowl, which
it was expected would be filled with liquor, or in lieu of this a
contribution of money placed in the bowl.
The May-day carol exists in several different kinds. Copies are to
be found in Dr Barrett’s collection, English County Songs, and in
several other works.
William Hone, in his Ancient Mysteries, 1822, speaks of the Christmas
carols that were at that time annually printed in chap-books and on
broadsides. He gives a list of eighty-nine of these, some of which are
still remembered among folk-singers.
The tunes used by children in the traditional singing-games rank as
folk-music, and are always of the most simple and marked character.
Having these qualities they are easily remembered, and capable of being
passed from one generation of children to another with but little
chance of corruption. Although certain games have the same rhymes and
tunes in different parts of the country, yet there are others where the
airs are not so fixed.
A very high antiquity has been allotted to the origin of these games.
It is claimed that many are reflexes of pagan marriage and burial
customs, and even of sacrificial rites. Into this question it is
outside the province of this book to inquire, but whatever may be
adduced as to the great age the games themselves possess, it seems
doubtful whether any exceptional degree of antiquity can be safely
assigned to the existing tunes, though they are all pretty and
charming, and well worth preservation, apart from their antiquarian
association.
Many collections of these singing-games have been published; details
of these will be found in the bibliography. Miss A. G. Gilchrist, of
Southport, has noted a very great number from children in different
parts of the country. Her collection, up to the present, remains in
manuscript.
A number of the singing-game tunes resemble in a greater or less degree
certain published airs, as “Nancy Dawson,” “Sheriff Muir,” and some
others. Whether the children have taken these airs for their games, or
whether the composers of the printed tunes have gone to the children’s
games for inspiration, is a problem not easily solved.
When the folk-song singer did not get his song by oral transmission he
took it from a ballad sheet, or from those small collections of songs
which, for at least three centuries, were called “Garlands.” The words
of most of our folk-songs were generally printed either on the ballad
sheet (otherwise “broadside”), or included among those that formed
the contents of the “Garland,” and nowhere else, except in the rarest
instances. Regular song books were too dignified to admit songs or
ballads of the folk-song class. As a consequence the folk-songs that
survive in an early printed form are chiefly found on broadsides.
Technically, the broadside is a printed piece of paper (the size is
immaterial) meant to be read unfolded. A tradesman’s hand-bill, for
example, is a broadside. Folded, the broadside becomes folio, quarto,
or octavo. The “garlands” were small folded booklets of either eight or
sixteen pages, and contained ten or twelve songs, the outer page being
generally decorated with a woodcut, and having a list of the songs
contained within.
The reason why the broadside ballad was printed on one side only
appears to be this—It was the practice to paste them on cottage walls,
inside cupboard doors, chest lids, and such like places. There are many
references in literature to this method of displaying the ballad, as
for example—
“I will now lead you to an honest ale-house where
we shall find a cleanly room, lavender in the window, and twenty
ballads stuck about the wall.”—Walton’s Compleat Angler, 1653.
No wonder that the old angler and his pupil found so many delightful
snatches of quaint old song current where ballads and songs were so
fostered. The Spectator shows that the usage had not died out in
Queen Anne’s reign—
“I cannot for my heart leave a room before I have
thoroughly studied the walls of it, and examined the several printed
papers which are usually pasted upon them.”—No. 85, vol. ii.
Although the ballad was freely hawked about the streets of towns, and
carried into the country by “flying stationers” and pedlars (witness
Autolycus in the Winter’s Tale), yet the pastings upon walls and
the constant foldings of loose ballad sheets soon destroyed existing
copies, for few of the old ballad lovers were like Mr Pepys and Captain
Cox. Laneham, it will be remembered, tells in his “Letter,” 1575,
describing the festivities at Kenilworth Castle, that Cox’s ballads
numbered more than a hundred, and were “all ancient,” and were “fair
wrapt in parchment, and tied with a whip cord.” Would there had been
more of the Captain’s careful disposition.
Broadside ballads must have come among the people with the first dawn
of printing, and in Henry the Eighth’s reign they had become of such
weight in political influence that one or more royal edicts were levied
against them. The earliest known English printed ballad is, in date,
about 1540. Ballad printing was generally done by small local printers,
or else by those larger London printers who made a speciality of the work,
and who supplied the whole country with ballads and with “garlands.”
Gough, Redman, Bankes, Walley, and many others who worked in London
during the sixteenth century were noted printers of ballads. In the
seventeenth century ballad printing became more general, and many
of the publishers clubbed together, so that we find several names
on one imprint. Henry Gosson printed in 1616, and John Trundle, his
contemporary, was so noted as a ballad vendor that he is named in Ben
Jonson’s play, “Every Man in His Humour.” In 1642 Francis Coles (or
Coules) flourished and issued ballads in conjunction with William
Gilbertson, having a shop on Saffron Hill. Of this period also were
Alexander Milbourn, Francis Grove, J. Wright, William Onley, and the
“Assignees of Thomas Symcocke.” At a later date William Thackeray, at
the “Angel in Duck Lane,” issued, with Passenger, at the “Three Bibles
on London Bridge,” many interesting ballads, garlands, and chap-books.
One of their dates is 1687.
All these seventeenth century ballads, or the chief part of them, were
printed in “black-letter,” a type of Gothic character which
was specially reserved for law books, bibles, and romances long after
its discontinuance as ordinary text. They were generally printed on
rather large paper, about 14 inches by 10 inches, and, of course, only
on one side of the paper. The name of the tune was frequently given,
and on some a few musical notes, professing to be the tune, were
appended to the verses. These musical notes, however, were a fraudulent
inducement to purchasers, for they were merely set at random. Rude
woodcuts, which more or less illustrated the theme of the ballad,
generally headed the whole.
The most noted collections of this period of ballad are the Roxburghe
collection in the British Museum, and the Pepysian at Cambridge. It
must be pointed out that a great number of these ballads were scarcely
folk-songs—that is, they were not “born of the people”—and only a
certain proportion were current among them. There were professional
ballad writers who supplied rhymed narratives to order for the ballad
seller, not only upon topical events, but re-dishings of earlier
romances, and other matter.
Whether at the opening of the eighteenth century printed ballads began
to be out of favour, or whether the ballads have not been so carefully
preserved, is not quite clear, but they are certainly more rare of this period.
The chief ballad printer of this date was John Cluer, who was printing
ballads in 1720, and shortly after this date was established as a music
publisher of repute. He worked in Bow Church Yard, Cheapside, and was
succeeded by William Dicey, who had been in partnership with Robert
Raikes, at Northampton, in the ballad and chap-book printing business.
Robert Raikes removed to Gloucester, where he established the first
Gloucester newspaper. He was father to Robert Raikes, the originator of
Sunday Schools.
An important range of ballad sheets were those which issued from the
Aldermary Church Yard press. In 1793 J. Marshall was at this address,
printing engraved song sheets with pictorial headings. There was also
a J. Marshall at Newcastle-on-Tyne, who published song garlands about 1820.
One of the best-known ballad printers at the end of the eighteenth
century was John Evans, of 42 Long Lane, Smithfield. He printed
broadside ballads, chap-books, and garlands. He and his sons at a later
date printed for the Religious Tract Society, producing such quaint
religious stories as The Shepherd of Salisbury Plain. The Evans
family, and successors, were in full vigour as printers as late as 1815.
It was at the beginning of the nineteenth century that the great
ballad printer J. Pitts appeared. It is said that “Johnny Pitts” was
a female who had been a bumboat woman. The ballad sheets that issued
from the Pitts’ press are all of interest, and many genuine folk-songs
appear on them. A rival to Pitts came from Alnwick in the person of
James Catnach, the son of a printer in that small Northumbrian town.
James Catnach first commenced business in 1813, at 2 and 3 Monmouth
Court, Seven Dials, and he made a complete revolution in ballad sheet
printing. The early ballad-mongers used a rough grey, or blue tinted,
paper and their type was none of the best, or clearest. Catnach changed
the shape of the ballad sheet into Large Post Quarto (about 10 × 8
inches), used good, though thin, white paper, and clear type. Many of
his wood-blocks were either by the Bewick brothers, or by their pupils.
He put forth an enormous quantity of ballads and songs, and seems
to have not only employed men to write songs on topical events, but
also to have for the first time put into print many a stray folk-song
which the ballad-singers, who flocked to buy his ballads, would recite
to him. This latter fact accounts for a certain amount of ignorant
mistakes that occur in the text.
After founding an immense business he retired in 1838, and died in
1841. His married sister, Anne Ryle, took over the business and
advertised that she had “4000 sorts” of ballad sheets. Her manager,
James Paul, appears to have been some sort of an editor for her, and
it is believed that he wrote, or re-wrote, certain of the ballads and
songs she printed. He was, with others, proprietor of the business
at one time, but finally it became the property of W. S. Fortey, who
reprinted from Catnach’s old stereotypes. T. Batchelor, Piggot, and T.
Birt were other ballad printers, a little later than Catnach.
The broadsides printed by Henry Such are of considerable interest
to the collector, as they contain versions of folk-songs which are
generally good. He was printing in 1849, and his successors of the same
surname reprinted his ballad sheets up to a recent date. Provincial
ballad sheet printers are Walker of Durham (flourishing in 1839), and
Harkness of Preston, of a somewhat later date. R. Barr of Leeds and
J. Bebbington of Manchester were broadside printers of forty or fifty
years ago, while Shelmerdine & Co. of Manchester date from about 1815.
The folk-song collector cannot ignore the ballad sheet, for upon it are
found the words of many folk-songs of which he may only obtain very
fragmentary versions from the singer. It is not to be understood that
the ballad sheet version of a folk-song is always an accurate one, but
it is worth having, for the folk-song singer has generally learned his
words, or at any rate refreshed his memory, from the broadside copy.
The ballad printer was too wise a business man to print on the sheet
only folk-songs. He printed a popular lyric side by side with an
old traditional song, for the sheet had room for at least two sets of
verses, and he, by this means, catered for two classes of customers.