Ireland - evergreentrad

20 Oct

Barney Blake

[as usual, I mis-remembered a few bits of the melody in this recording… I’d redo it, but the location was too good!]

O me name is Barney Blake, I’m a roving Irish rake
I’m considered by my neighbors good and handy
I was brought up to the spade til I learned the tailor trade
And I think myself as good as Ben or Sandy.

Chorus
O it’s Biddy Donahue sure I caught my eye on you
If you marry Barney why be damn you’ll never rue
You’re the apple of me eye and my Irish cocateau
Mr. Cupid’s knocked me stupid over Biddy Donahue

It’s at a wedding of Pat Malare, sure I first met Biddy there
As I sat beside her at the wedding supper
How I felt I couldn’t say when she handed me the tay
For my heart it melted like a lump of butter.

Now she’s handsome and she’s mild she’s a dacent father’s child
She’s the pride of all around our Irish nation
You would go from here to Spain to hear her sing Napolean’s Dream
And for dancing, boys, she has a lovely carriage.

Now some folks they do try, for to poke out Barney’s eye
But in this I’m sure they all will find a failure
She would not see me fooled, she’s as good as guinea gold
And she’ll marry none [hold on “none”] but Barney Blake the sailor.

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This is another song I transcribed from a reel-to-reel recording made in Beaver Island, Michigan while I was at the American Folklife Center in Washington, DC this summer. Singer Dominick Gallagher (1867-1954) sang this for collector Ivan Walton in 1940.

A wonderful aspect of field recordings can be the chat caught on tape before and after songs. Walton made a point of asking Gallagher where he got each song and when he asked him about “Barney Blake,” Gallagher replied:

Gallagher:            “I learned that in the lumber woods about 45 or 50 years ago from a Canadian Scotsman.
Walton:                 “What lumber woods was that?”
Gallagher:            “Up in Grand Marais [pronounced Marase] on Lake Superior shores.”

The song itself seems to have its origins in the Irish music halls of the 1870s where I have found evidence of it being performed by (and perhaps written by) a song and dance duo by the names of Devlin and Tracy that were active in Boston and New York in that era. It was very common for singers to pick up Irish music hall songs and sing them unaccompanied in lumber camps. In fact, another version of Barney Blake was collected from Ottawa Valley singer O.J. Abbott.

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CORRECTIONS FROM PRINT VERSION: I made a couple mistakes in the version published in the IMDA October newsletter and they are correct above. Here’s what I got wrong the first time around:

First, I misidentified the singer as John W. Green instead of Gallagher who actually sang the song for Walton.

Also, I was a bit over-eager to claim a Grand Marais, Minnesota connection for this song based on this mention of “Grand Marais on Lake Superior shores.” After I sent in my column to be published in the IMDA October newsletter, a friend reminded me that there is another Grand Marais on the southeastern shore of Lake Superior in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. It is much more likely that Gallagher did his logging in the locality of the Michigan Grand Marais, not on Minnesota’s north shore.

12 Sep

Lovel (Laws L13B)

As Lovel was walking a walking one morning
He espied two pedlers two pedlers a coming
He boldley stept up to them and called them his honey
Saying stand and deliver boys for all I wants your money.

Lol te de a de um, Lol te de a dum.

O we are two pedlers two pedlers are we sir
And you are Mr. Lovel we take you to be sir
O we are two pedlers that have lateley cam from dublin
And all that we have in our box is our bedin and our clothing.

As Lovel was walking up kinsberry mountain
He espied two rich misers their guines they were counting
First he cocked his blunderbus and then he drew his rapier
Saying stand and deliver boys for I’me a money taker.

O Lovel O Lovel my poor harts a breaking
For little did I think my love you ever would ben taken
And if I had ave knawn that the enemy was a coming
Ide have fought like a hero although Ime but a woman.

O Polly O Polly my poor harts a breaking
If it had not been for you my love I never would been taken
For while I was a sleeping not thinking of the matter
You discharged my pistols and loded them with water.

As Lovel was walking all up the galos lader
He called to the sherif for his irish cap and fether
Saying I have robed money but never killed enny
I think it hard that I must die just for grabing money.
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From 1923 through 1927, folklorist and song collector Robert Winslow Gordon edited a column in the pulp magazine Adventure called “Old Songs That Men Have Sung.” Each column included folksong texts sent in by readers from their own memories, personal song notebooks and singing friends and family members. Gordon received over 3000 letters from readers, many in search of words to half-remembered songs and many contributing songs themselves.

During my trip to the American Folklife Center this past June I was able to sift through these letters and Gordon’s typed responses to them – all of which are in the AFC’s amazing archive. Going through the letters (the AFC staff allowed me to work with the brittle originals!) gave me insight into the lives and motivations of singers from that era. Many writers lamented the changing times and the loss of the traditional singing cultures they grew up with.

The words to this version of “Lovel” appear in a set of songs sent in to Gordon in 1924 by singer Reuben Waitstell Phillips of Akeley, Minnesota (see N.S. Oct. 2013). Phillips’ accompanying letter began:

Dear Sir,
I am an old man and my hand shakes so that I am compeled to use a pencil insted of pen and ink but I am going to send you a few old songs that men have sung if you can use them well and good if not why just a little time spent.

Gordon was delighted by the 22 song texts sent in by Phillips and he chose “Lovel” to print in his next “Old Songs” column. He introduced the column saying:

A MOST valuable contribution arrived last week from Mr. R. W. Phillips of Akeley, Minnesota—a forty-six-page manuscript of twenty-two songs, every one of them worth while! I have sent Mr.Phillips, in your name and mine, our heartiest thanks. May his voice be heard often!

Above, I have given the text as Phillips supplied it, complete with unconventional spellings. The transcription is my own based on a wax cylinder recording made by Gordon of Phillips during a visit to Akeley (from what I can tell in researching the family, the Phillipses lived south of Akeley near Chamberlain, MN) the same year he received the letter.

The song is a distant variant of “Whiskey in the Jar.” Similar versions were collected in Vermont and Maine but Phillips’ melody is quite unique… and fun to sing!

More on this song and its more well-known variant “Whiskey in the Jar” here.

16 May

Drummond’s Land

At the foot of David’s mountains where the waters they run calm,
And purling streams do gently glide down by my father’s land,
All covered o’er with a linen cloth that was wrought near Tendersgay*
And was purchased by one Kinnedy*, a man of high degree.

As I roved out one morning all for to take the air,
I being a clever young man with a fusee in my hand,
I might have shot a score or more had I but known my fate,
For my name is McCallum from the falls, and you know my fortune’s great.

As I roved out one evening down by the watchman’s dam,
The Belleville coach came rolling in all loaded to the ground,
[I put my spyglass to my eye, I viewed it all around]
And in one of the front seats sat a lady of renown.

I boldly stepped up to her for to help her from the coach,
I took her by the lily-white hand as we stood on the beach.
I showed her all my father’s ships that were bound for Cheshire fair,
Saying, “Only for you, lady, I am sure I would be there.”

I says, “My pretty fair maid, will you come to yonder inn,
And there we’ll have a bottle of wine our joys for to begin.
For I have lost a diamond more precious far than gold.
And you are the one that found it, fair lady, I am told.”

“For the keeping of young men’s company, kind sir, I’m not exposed,
Nor yet am I a lady, although I wear fine clothes,
I am but a farmer’s daughter that dwells near Hamilton’s band*;
And for further information, I dwell on Drummond’s land.”

Oh, it’s “Kind and honored lady, won’t you take the coach with me,
And we’ll go down to Drummond’s land your father for to see.
Five thousand pound in ready gold to your father I’ll bestow,
And I’ll crown you queen of Drummond’s land this night before we go.”

“I am sorry for you, young man. Your suit must be denied,
For I’m already promised to be a young man’s bride,
For I’m already promised these seven long years and more.
He is but a linen weaver, the lad whom I adore.”

*These are all as printed in the Rickaby manuscript. Based on versions from Eddie Butcher and one printed in Sam Henry’s “Songs of the People” I sing “Tandragee” (Co. Armagh) in place of Tendersgay, “Kennedy” in place of Kinnedy, and “Hamiltonsbawn” (Co. Armagh) in place of Hamilton’s band.

**line missing in the Ross text. I used text from Eddie Butcher recording and Sam Henry published version.
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[the following has been edited due to mistakes and omissions in the print version that appeared in the May IMDA newsletter]

The text of this version of “Drummond’s Land” (aka “David’s Flowery Vale”) was sent by Andy Ross of Charlevoix, Michigan to collector Franz Rickaby in August 1922. Rickaby had met with Ross and transcribed his singing in 1921 and hoped to make it back to Charlevoix to get Ross’s melody for Drummond’s Land at a later date. Unfortunately, Rickaby’s failing health caused him to leave the Upper Midwest for good in 1923 and Ross’s melody was never obtained.

I have paired Ross’s text with a melody used for another version of “Drummond’s Land” that appears in Sam Henry’s wonderful Songs of the People. There is a nice recording of Derry singer Eddie Butcher singing another version which you can hear at the Irish Traditional Music Archive website here. Yet another version was sung by Co. Antrim singer Robert Cinnamond which you can hear on the album Not a Word of No Surrender.

Cinnamond’s version holds the key to the song’s origin as the wealthy suitor’s name is there McCance (instead of McCallum as in Ross’ version). John McCance (1772-1835) was a wealthy landowner, politician and owner of linen operations whose large estate was, indeed, at the foot of Divis (not David’s) Mountain just west of Belfast in County Antrim.

Another version of this song’s text from the Lisburn Historical Society along with biographical info on John McCance.

More background on this song from the Traditional Ballad Index