song - evergreentrad

10 Jan

Why Don’t My Father’s Ship Come In?

It was on a Christmas evening as I lay down to sleep,
I heard a boy of six years old on his mother’s knee did weep,
Saying “once I had a father dear who did me kind embrace
And if he was here, he would dry those tears flowing down my mother’s face”

Oh where is that tall and gallant ship that first bore him away,
With topsails soft and painted decks born by the breeze away,
While other ships are coming in splitting the icy foam,
Oh why don’t my father’s ship come in, and why don’t he come home?

Oh, dear son, your father has tarried for to cross the stormy sea,
The ocean and the hurricane sweeps he’ll never come back to me,
Dear son your father’s dead and gone to the home of the brave,
The stormy ocean and winter winds sweep o’er your father’s grave

Oh well I do remember when he took me on his knee,
And gave me all the fruits he bore from off that India tree,
He said six months he would be gone and here leave us alone,
But by those stormy winter winds, twelve months are past and gone.

Oh hush my darling little son your innocent life is done,
Now you and I are all that’s left for to lament and mourn,
You are the darling of my heart I will press you to my side,
And they rose their eyes to heaven and the son and mother died.

We return to Beaver Island, Michigan this month for a song from the repertoire of singer Johnny Green recorded by Alan Lomax during his 1938 visit to the island.

This dark and sorrowful lament for a father lost at sea appears in several collections across the north woods from the Canadian Maritimes to Ontario. Lomax’s recording of John Green is accessible via the Library of Congress website under the title (probably resulting from a mishearing of the first line) “Christmas Eve.”

Anita Best and Genevieve Lehr printed a version from Annie Green of Newfoundland in their book Come & I Will Sing You. Annie Green closed the song this way:

“My boy you’re the pride of all my heart,” as she pressed him to her breast,
And closed her eyes to the yonder skies where the weary ones find rest.

10 Dec

Come All Ye Old Comrades

Come all ye old comrades, come now let us join,
And lend your sweet voices in chorus with mine,
We’ll drink and be merry, all sorrow refrain,
We may and may never all meet here again.

The time is fast approaching when I must away,
To leave my own country for many a long day,
To leave my old comrades so kind and so dear,
I to the Indies my course I must steer.

Fare thee well, I have a mother by the great powers above,
May she always be honored, respected and loved,
I will always respect her by land or by sea,
I’ll ever remember her kindness to me.

Fare thee well, I have a sweetheart whom I dearly love well,
There are none in this country who can her excel,
She smiles at my folly and she sits on my knee,
There’s few in this wide world as happy as we.

Adieu my old comrades, adieu and farewell,
Whether we’ll ever meet again there is no tongue can tell,
We will trust to his mercy who can sink or can save,
To bring me safe over yon proud stormy wave.

We have another song recorded in the Canadian Maritimes by Helen Creighton this month. Many readers will be familiar with Irish or Scottish versions of “Here’s a Health to the Company” aka “Kind Friends and Companions.” It is a well-loved song to close out a night of singing, complete with sing-along chorus.

The above variant, which has no chorus, comes from the singing of Catherine Marion Scott Gallagher (Mrs. Edward Gallagher in Creighton’s notes) who lived at the Chebucto Head lighthouse south east of Halifax, Nova Scotia and was recorded by Creighton in 1949. You can hear Gallagher sing “Come All Ye Old Comrades” on the Nova Scotia Archives website.

Creighton printed another Nova Scotia variant of the song in the book Songs and Ballads from Nova Scotia but, as far as I can tell, the beautiful Gallagher version was not published until the release of this online archive. Gallagher’s phrasing on the recording is really nice and worth a listen for anyone interested in learning this one. The text and melody are also fairly unique from Irish/Scottish versions I am aware of. A great North American version of a favorite song!

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02 Aug

When the Manistee Went Down

Farewell, old boat, and precious freight,
McKay and his staunch, strong crew,
No more at home shall the cargo wait,
For loved ones to come with you.
The work she did no other would do,
Success would the effort crown,
But oh! the anguish of waiting hearts,
When the Manistee went down.

CHORUS:
Oh! God, it must have been dreadful,
To freeze and then to drown,
In a storm on Lake Superior,
When the Manistee went down.

Fond memory oft will picture here still,
Her cabins and decks grow dear,
In a storm that made every fiber thrill,
McKay spoke words of cheer.
Farewell, old boat, and gallant crew,
Love will your memories crown,
Bot, oh! the darkness, pain and grief,
When the Manistee went down.

Another scene of horror,
Came when this deep, cold lake,
The schooner M. A. Hulbert, with,
Twenty brave, strong men, did take.
It was next they should lie beneath the wave,
When her ballast above were o’er,
But we long the helpless ones to save,
Whose voices we hear no more.

We have another song this month from the pen of James J. Somers who came to Duluth at age 17 from the Georgian Bay region of Ontario. He was in Duluth in November 1883 when the packet steamer Manistee left Duluth harbor for Ontonagon, Michigan never to return. Tragedy struck again that December when the schooner Mary Ann Hulbert, also out of Duluth, sank near St. Ignace Island at the northern end of Lake Superior.

As with most other songs in Somers’ book, he left us no melody for this one. Andy Irvine’s version of Pat Reilly came into my head when I was looking at Somers’ text so I have tried to adapt it to that melody here. I made a few edits to Somers’ words. The original, along with the rest of his book “Jim’s Western Gems” is available in digital form via archive.org.