Ivan Walton - evergreentrad

26 Oct

The Protestant Cow

Paddy McCarthy, a sweet Irish lad, he came from the county of Ballinafad,
Where he spent his young days until man he had grown, he come to this country a few years ago,
Where he settled him down quite neatly, faith good luck attended him greatly,
The one thing that vexed him completely, was the want of a cow to give milk.

So then he consulted his wife Peggy Ann, a nice little girl from the County Cavan,
She said that her milk she must have anyhow, so Paudie went out for to buy her a cow,
To buy one he struck out so gaily, twirling his blackthorn shillelagh,
’Til he met with old farmer Bailey, a Protestant Yankee so cute.

They haggled around and a bargain soon made, the price of the cow to the farmer Pat paid,
Singing along the way sir as he drove home his newly bought cow.

He arrived at the gate, Peggy Ann at the door, such an elegant creature she’d ne’er seen before,
“Where did you get her?” said Peggy so gaily, “To see sure I bought her from old farmer Bailey.”
“From that Protestant thief? Blood and thunder! Oh Pat she’s a Protestant cow!”

“[ ] never mind that, go into the house and mind what you’re at,
A bottle of holy water bring out to me now, and I will soon make her a Catholic cow”
A bottle of blue liquor she brought out instead, so Pat began pouring it on the cow’s head,
Making the sign of the cross as he poured, all in a sudden the cow let a roar.

They looked at each other with faces so blue, thinking that she was a Protestant cow,
Says Pat “There must be something wrong in her. Or isn’t the Protestant strong in her,”
“Musha may the Devil go on with her! Pat she’s a protestant cow.”

Searching the many online archives of American newspapers from the 1800s turns up dozens of printings and reprintings of versions of this humorous story about Pat and Peggy Ann and their attempt to convert their new cow to Catholicism. However, I can find none that tell the story in verse. Interestingly, an Irish telling of the story turns up in Ireland’s recently digitized National Folklore Collection as recounted by a school boy in Collooney, Co. Sligo–just up the road from Ballinafad.

Two sung versions were collected in Beaver Island, Michigan by Alan Lomax and Ivan Walton from brothers Barney and James Martin in 1938 and 1940. You can hear Barney’s version (my main source for the above transcription) on the Library of Congress website. James Martin said he brought the song to Beaver Island from a lumber camp in Schoolcraft County on Michigan’s Upper Peninsula where a Canadian lumberjack named Campbell sang it around 1890.

20 Mar

Highland Mary

Ye banks and braes and streams around the castles of Montgomery,
Green be your woods and fair your flowers, your waters never drumlie,
There summer first unfolds her robes, and there I langest tarry,
For there I took the last farewell, of my sweet Highland Mary.

How sweetly bloomed the gay green birk, how rich the hawthorn’s blossom,
As underneath their fragrant shade, I clasped her to my bosom,
The golden hours, on angel’s wings, flew o’er me and my dearie,
For dear to me as light and life, was my sweet Highland Mary.

Wi’ many a vow and locked embrace, our parting was so tender,
And pledging oft to meet again, we tore ourselves asunder,
But oh! Fell death’s untimely froth that nipped my flower so early,
Now green’s the sod and cold’s the clay that wraps my Highland Mary.

O pale, pale now those rosy lips I oft have kissed so fondly,
And closed for aye the sparkling glance that dwelt on me so kindly,
And mouldering now in silent death that heart that lowed me dearly,
But still within my bosom’s core shall live my Highland Mary.

In honor of Burns Night coming up on January 25th we have a song found in both Ireland and the north woods that began as a poem penned by Scotland’s national poet, Robert Burns. The above version comes from the wonderful singing of Beaver Island, Michigan-born woodsman and singer Dominic Gallagher (1867-1954). Dominick’s father “Big Dominick” Gallagher, like most Beaver Islanders of his generation, emigrated from the island of Arranmore, Co. Donegal. After singing the above for collector Ivan Walton in 1940, Dominick said (with characteristic humility) “The first time I heard that I was only about six years of age at a party home. A fellow by the name of Paddy Hamey[?] sang it two weeks after he was married—a very fine singer—could sing it a good deal better than I sang it now.”

Twelve years after Dominick Gallagher was recorded on Beaver Island, famed Co. Fermanagh singer Paddy Tunney assisted collector Peter Kennedy in recording Paddy’s mother Brigid Tunney singing a similar version of “Highland Mary” at her home in Fermanagh. Interestingly, Brigid, like Dominick’s father, was born in Donegal and her maiden name was also Gallagher.

20 Nov

The Dublin Lasses Reel

Between 1910s and 1970s, folk song scholars, collectors and singers transcribed or recorded abundant examples of Irish-influenced traditional singing held over in the Great Lakes region from the days of live-in logging camps and fresh water schooners. The presence of instrumental music in old time Great Lakes logging camps is also well documented in photos and first-hand accounts but, sadly, very few transcribers or recorders bothered to capture any of the tunes!

I decided to take a month off from the songs and share an interesting version of an Irish reel (usually called “The Five Mile Chase”) from Beaver Island, Michigan fiddler Patrick Bonner (1882-1973). Bonner’s fascinating fiddle playing was recorded. Alan Lomax recorded a dozen or so tunes from him in 1938 and Ivan Walton a dozen more in 1940. Bonner’s setting of “The Dublin Lasses” was one of some 80 or more tunes recorded between 1950 and the mid-60s by Edward “Edgar” O’Donnell. O’Donnell’s (low fi) recordings of Bonner are available online here.

Patrick Bonner was the son of Black John Bonner, believed to be the first Irishman to arrive on Beaver Island after the fall of the island’s Mormon kingdom in 1856. Black John was born on Rutland Island (=Inis Mhic an Doirn), County Donegal not far from Arranmore (the birthplace of most first generation Irish-Beaver Islanders). His song Patrick was born on Beaver Island and lived there his entire life working as a farmer, logger and sailor and entertaining on his fiddle at “dances, picnics, weddings, and house parties.”[1] Patrick Bonner’s playing is an intriguing blend of Irish fiddle style and a looser, simpler, more “American” approach. I highly recommend looking him up online to hear him for yourself!

[1] Sommers, Laurie Kay, Beaver Island House Party, (East Lansing: Michigan State University Press, 1996) 45.