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herbs-and-poultices · 21 days ago

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A Vaguely Whumptober-Themed Anthology of Folk Songs from the British Isles / Transatlantic Tradition: Part 2

Part 1 Last Year's Part 1 Part 2

(What’s a random American gal with no English/Scottish/Irish heritage doing listening mostly to songs like these? Blame my parents for raising me on murder ballads and ceilidh tunes.)

16) Wound Cleaning: A' Mhic Iain 'ic Sheumais (Son of John Son of James) X

An old traditional Gaelic song.

Dòmhnall mhic Iain 'ic Sheumais was shot with an arrow while leading his clan at the Battle of Carinish in 1601. According to legend, this song was composed and sung by his foster-mother as she removed the arrow and tending his wound. In the tradition it is more commonly sung as a waulking song (women's work song), but this is the first version of it I heard, performed live some 12 years ago, and it has a beautiful aching quality of love and grief.

17) Shipwrecked | "We had a good run": Barrett's Privateers (X)

A Canadian classic from the Folk Revival (20th c)

The ship was a wreck before she even set sail, it's a miracle she held up for the three months it took her to get from Canada to the Caribbean. One encounter with a merchant ship was more than enough to finish the job, leaving the sole survivor to try to make his way back home

18) Revenge: Banks of Sweet Dundee (X)

A broadside (19th c) ballad.

An orphan girl's uncle and a wealthy suitor conspire to have her low-born sweetheart pressed and sent to sea. The intrepid heroine seizes her suitor's weapons and takes her happily-ever-after by force.

He put his arms around her, “Stand off, stand off,” says she “You’ve sent the only lad I love from the banks of Sweet Dundee” She took the weapons from him and the sword he used so free, She boldly fired and shot the squire on the banks of Sweet Dundee Her uncle overheard, and hastened to the ground “Since you’ve killed the squire I will give you your death wound" “Stand off, then,” young Mary cried, “undaunted I will be” The sword she drew and her uncle slew on the banks of Sweet Dundee

19) "Is there anybody alive out there": Battle of Harlaw (X X)

A rather inaccurate account of the battle, most likely composed a few hundred years after the fact, but a fine old song nonetheless.

O’ fifty thoosan’ Heilan’ men but fifty-three gaed hame, And oot o’ a’ the Lawlan’ men fifty marched wi’ Graeme Gin onybody spier at ye o' them that marched awa’, Ye can tell them plain and very plain they’re sleepin' at Harlaw

** spier = ask

20) Emotional Angst: Lovely On The Water (X)

An old traditional ballad.

For Tower Hill is crowded With mothers weeping sore For their sons are gone to face the foe Where the blundering cannons roar

21) Body Horror: Donald MacGillavry (X)

A Jacobite song. Not precisely period trad (having been written some 60-70 years after the fact), but it's a real good one!

Things done to shoe leather should generally not be done to people.

Come like a cobbler, Donald Macgillavry Beat them, and bore them, and lingel them cleverly Up wi’ King James and Donald Macgillavry!

22) "Oh that's not good": Fire and Flame (X)

A memorial to the Halifax Explosion in 1917, composed by the latest generation of folksters.

'Twas in early December 1917 She was packed to the gills with Grade-A TNT They were bound for the fighting in High Germany When towards them the other ship turned The Norwegian ship Imo, some fault in her gears She struck Mont-Blanc's side like the mightiest of spears And the benzol ignited the captain's worst fears As the fire consumed bow to stern

23) "I'm doing this for you": Loch Lomond (X X)

Period trad (as far as I know) from shortly after the 1745 Jacobite Rising.

After the failure of the final Jacobite rising, the victors made brutal examples of their prisoners through public execution. One chose to die so that his comrades (or in some versions of the story his brother) might go free.

The 'high road' is the way over land back to Scotland. The 'low road' refers to the way traveled by the souls of those who die in foreign lands when, in Scottish tradition, they return home one last time.

24) “I never knew daylight could be so violent”: Bonnie Blue (X)

A Jacobite song. Not precisely period trad (having been written some 60-70 years after the fact, and the final verse added more recently).

Thanks once again to General John Cope for his contributions to the Scottish musical tradition.

Fast, fast their foot and horsemen flew, caps were mixed wi' bonnie blue Dirks were wet - but no wi' dew, upon that fatal morning... Run, run, ye gangling crew, this morning's work ye lang will rue The bonnie blue bonnets are after you tae wish ye's a' guid morning

25) Being Monitored | "It's for your own good": The Deserter (X)

When first I deserted, I thought myself free Until my cruel comrade informed against me. I was quickly followed after and brought back with speed, I was handcuffed and guarded, heavy irons put on me...

The resulting three-hundred three (!!) lashes was not enough to deter this desperate unwilling recruit from trying again. The second time around the sentence was execution, but thanks to the Prince's 'mercy' even that release would not be his:

Then up rode Prince Albert in his carriage-and-six Saying where is that young man whose coffin is fixed Set him free from his irons and let him go free -- For he'll make a good soldier for his Queen and country

26) Nightmares: Famous Flower of Serving Men (X)

An old ballad composed in the 17th century, of the gory family strife / star-crossed lovers variety.

After her husband and infant child are brutally murdered in front of her, a young woman takes her fate into her own hands. Cross-dressing, supernatural intervention, and fiery revenge ensue.

But all alone in my bed at e'en It's there I dream a dreadful dream I see my bed swim with blood I see the thieves stand 'round my head

27) Voiceless: One Hundred Feet (X)

A haunting memorial to the wreck of HMS Iolaire bringing soldiers home to the Hebrides at the end of WWI, composed by the latest generation of folksters.

One hundred feet from shore, We will hear their voice no more, Though I’d swear I heard them calling on the wind...

28) Denial | "They caught me red handed": Clark Sanders (X)

An old traditional ballad, another of the gory family strife / star-crossed lovers variety.

A lesson in how to talk your way out of anything... provided you aren't caught with the evidence and are actually awake at the time, that is.

"But you take a kerchief in your hands and tie up both your eyes, you may So you may say your oath to save, you ne’er saw me since yesterday And take the sword from out my scabbard, you can use it to lift the pin So you may say your oath to save, you never let your Sandy in And take me up all in your arms, you can carry me to the bed. So you may say your oath to save, on your bower floor I never tread" But in and come her five brothers, and all their torches in their hands They said "We have but one sister and see her lying with a man"

29) "Who said you could rest": Twa Recruiting Sergeants (X)

One of a family of old recruiting songs, this version aimed to lure poor farm laborers in rural Scotland.

It is intae the barn an' oot o' the byre This auld fairmer thinks ye'll never tire For it's a slavery job of low degree So list, bonnie laddie, an' come awa' wi me

How much their lives were actually improved by this change in career... well...

30) Recovery | "What have I done": Johnny I hardly knew ya (X) / Poor Johnny (X X)

Joining up was not Johnny's brightest idea.

They said he was a hero and not to grieve Over two wooden pegs and empty sleeves They carried him home and they set him down With a military pension and a medal from the crown You haven’t an arm, you haven’t a leg The enemy nearly slew you You’ll have to go out on the streets to beg Oh poor Johnny what have they done to you

31) "I'm alive, I'm just not well": Braes of Killicrankie (X)

I'll leave you with another Jacobite song. A period trad tune from the 1689 Rising, with lyrics added later.

A traumatized Government soldier recounts the horrors he experienced in a stunning defeat at the hands of the Jacobite forces.

The bauld Pitcur fell in a furr And Clavers got a clankie o Or I had fed an Athol gled On the braes o' Killicrankie o

** As best I can figure out: 'Thank goodness the Jacobite leaders were finally killed, otherwise I would have been supper for the local vultures.'

An ye had been whaur I hae beenYe wadna been sae cantie o An ye had seen what I hae seen On the braes o' Killiecrankie o

** an = if, cantie = cheerful

#whump playlist

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obscureoldscotspoems · 5 years ago

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Reply to Robert Gillespie (by R. Thomson)

For your last letter, thanks galore Wherein ye threep the rhymin corps That on ma verses out sic store Noo miss them sair Tae mak' remeid upon that score Is noo ma care.

'Tis twa year since I wat ma quill I hope the sma' degree o' skill An' art I had is wi' me still Tae turn a stave Weel can I mind the joyous thrill Verse-makin' gave.

An' tho' ma verses hirple lame I winna hing ma heid in shame I ne'er expec' tae see ma name On prentit quair Fremit I'll always be tae fame I'm weel aware.

Your letter cam' upon that date Whan Scots o' heich an' low estate In festive union congregate Wi' sang an' story Tae honour him they truly rate Their greatest glory.

Burns as you'll mind filled mony a ream Wi' verses in this rhymin' scheme An' aye cam' pat upon his theme Wi' clinchin' rhyme His wit an' fancy in them gleam Tae ootlive Time.

An' when he wrote tae James Lapraich That bard jaloused whit was at stake Daur he, e'en for freenship's sake Wi' Burns tae vie? Wycely his pen he did forsake An' didna reply

Upon that coont ye needna fear There's nane o' us are Burns's here Nor likely tae heeze up a steer I' the halls o' fame Indeed, oor swatch o' rhymin' gear 'S scarce kent at hame.

Oor seemin' skill is dearly bocht Whiles for a stubborn oor we've wrocht Tae find expression for a thocht In phrases neat An' sae the praise that comes unsocht Is solace sweet

O I'd be mair than weel content Gin words o' mine could represent The pleasure an' the pride I kent When I read thro' Robert Gillespie's eloquent An' kind review.

That ane whose skill touches a level Ayont the reach o' petty cavil Should find the time tae be sae civil Tae ma sma' art - An mair, tae gie it his approval Touches ma heart.

His ain verse scarce e'er seems tae stumble For wale o' words he disna fumble An rhymes gae coorsin' by as nimble As hares in Spring He downa feel owre blate or humble Wha thus can sing.

These virtues in him I endorse The soople shill in twinin' verse The sturdy thocht express't wi' force In hame-spun garb The suntran shaft o' wit that's terse - An hides a barb.

An bein' a mensefu' Lawlan' chiel On moral grund he's soun' as weel Wi' a guidly share o' Knox's zeal An searin comment An faith, a world plagued by the Deil Needs that this moment.

We've seen o' late the swift declension In keepin' o' the moral sanction Yet Man, withoot its stern injunction Is prone tae evil For coaxin' ajee, wi' ready unction Ye'll get the Deevil

There's nane o' us daur look askance Upon Life's waefu' weary dance Ilk ane o' us maun tak' his stance By truth an' richt. An play oor pairt, as men o' sense As best we might.

It's true tae quit this lofty plane An' leave philosophy alane For divers maitters mair mundane Afore I close, The scene noo 'is ma ain hearth stane It's joys an' woes

Robert Thomson. Kiltarlity Beauly, Inverness-shire.

Bob Thomson (1925-1991) was my grandfather, and I knew him as Papa Bob. From the wee village of Fankerton, near Denny, in Stirlingshire, he served in the Royal Navy during World War II, and after the war he joined the Forestry Commission, and had a long career living in various places in the Highlands. He had a keen interest in poetry and prose, and in photography. He wrote the above poem sometime in the mid-1950s.

#scots language #scottish poetry #scots leid #poetry #poems of bob thomson #old poetry

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