Category: Listen

Introduced by David Jones

“The Lincolnshire Poacher” has been referred to as the unofficial county anthem of Lincolnshire. It is said that the song was a favorite of King George IV and dates back to the American Revolution (1776).

The tune has been used as a quick march by several British regiments, including the 2nd Battalion Royal Anglian Regiment, who are known as the “Poachers.” It was also used by some New York Regiments during the American Civil War.

On a personal note: This was a song we sang at school. I first sang it when I was 10 years old, so I have known it for 75 years. It was a great relief to sing this song after “Who is Sylvia,” “Nymphs and Shepherds,” and other arty-type songs which were commonly sung in school singing classes. You may remember Jean Redpath talking about songs sung at British schools. She was very funny.

Another factor in its favor is that it has a good tune and is easy to sing.

Listen to John Roberts and Tony Barrand sing “The Lincolnshire Poacher:”

Lyrics

Well I was bound apprentice in famous Lincolnshire
Full well I served my master for more than seven year
‘Til I took up a-poaching, as you will quickly hear
Oh, ’tis my delight on a shiny night in the season of the year.

As me and my companions were setting of a snare
‘Twas then we spied the gamekeeper, for him we did not care
For we can wrestle and fight, my boys, and jump o’er anywhere
Oh, ’tis my delight on a shiny night in the season of the year.

As me and my companions were setting four or five
And taking of them up again, we caught a hare alive
We caught a hare alive, me boys, and homeward we did steer
Oh, ’tis my delight on a shiny night in the season of the year.

We put him over our shoulder and then we trudged on home
We took him to a neighbor’s house, and sold him for a crown
We sold him for a crown, my boys, but I dare not tell you where
Oh, ’tis my delight on a shiny night in the season of the year.

Good luck to every gentleman that lives in Lincolnshire
Good luck to every poacher that wants to steal a hare
Bad luck to every gamekeeper that will not sell his deer
Oh, ’tis my delight on a shiny night in the season of the year.

David Jones: a South East Londoner, born in 1934, has been singing the old songs for many years. Earliest remembered folksongs are “The Lincolnshire Poacher” and “The Farmer’s Boy,” learned at school in the mid-1940s. He has sung in the USA more than anywhere else, but has made forays back to the UK, to Australia, and to parts of Europe. He has sung solo, and with a number of groups, and, on the way, has recorded several albums of folksongs. Now, he lives in Leonia, NJ, Gateway to the Golden West, with his wife Louise, and tries to be involved as much as possible with the NYC folk music scene. Has appeared in a number of NYC theater productions to favorable reviews. Last local performance was as Alfred P. Doolittle in My Fair Lady.

Introduced by Sara Grey

The tune and text is a variation of “Buffalo Skinners” from Woody Guthrie but Woody’s version is more likely derived from this version. This is one of my favorite songs – so plaintive such a common theme.

I heard this version from Roscoe Holcomb; it’s ironic the way songs can move in opposite directions. We doubt Roscoe ever travelled west – someone probably had migrated back to the Southeast and he heard it there.

Listen to Sara Grey and her son Kieron Means sing “The Hills of Mexico,” from their album Better Days a Comin’:

Lyrics

When I’s in old Fort Worth in eighteen eighty-three
An old Mexican cowboy come steppin’ up to me
Sayin’ “How’d you like, young feller, and how’d you like to go
And to spend another season with me in Mexico?”

Lord, I had no employment, back to him did say
“Well, accordin’ to your wages, accordin’ to your pay.”
“I will pay to you good wages and oft times, too, you know
If you’ll spend another season with me in Mexico.”

Now with all this flatterin’ talkin’ he signed up quite a train
Some ten or twelve in number, some able bodied men
And our trip it was a pleasant one, and we hit the western road
And we crossed the old Peace River to those hills of Mexico.

It was there our pleasures ended and our troubles they began
Well, a lightning storm did hit us and made our cattle run
And we all got full of stickers from the cactus that did grow
And the outlaws they did rob us in those hills of Mexico.

Well I went up to that cowboy, and I gave to him my hand
And he gave me a string of horses, so old they could not stand
And I nearly starved to death there, and I mean to let you know
That I never saved a dollar in those hills of Mexico.

Oh they put me on a steamboat and back to home did go
Well the bells they did ring, and the whistle it did blow
Well the bells they did ring, and the whistle it did blow
Far from the God-forsaken country that they call Old Mexico.

Sara Grey is a fine American singer, banjo player and song collector, who is immersed in the song traditions of both sides of the Atlantic. Her love affair with traditional songs for over 60 years has given her an incomparable knowledge of songs and ballads and how they have moved and evolved. She wants to gather the songs and pass them on to future generations so that they will have the pleasure of hearing and singing them just as she has. After living and singing in Britain for more than 45 years, Sara has returned to her native New England and is living in Maine with her husband Dave. She continues to tour actively, mostly with her son Kieron Means. See more about Sara at her website.

Introduced by Dave Para

Like John Roberts & Tony Barrand, Dave Para loves this “Crawn” version of the widespread carol “I Saw Three Ships.” It was collected in 1895 from a Humber estuary boatman on the east coast of England, and ultimately published by Baring-Gould in his Garland of Country Songs in the same year.

It finally makes sense out of the puzzle of why three ships appear in the Christmas narrative at all. Legend has it that the skulls (“crawns” = “craniums” = “crowns”?) of the “Kings” or “Wise Men” were taken and lodged in the cathedral at Cologne.

Dave thinks of this more as a pilgrim carol than a Christmas song, so here it is in March.

Listen to Nowell Sing We Clear perform “I Saw Three Ships,” from their Hail Smiling Morn album:

Lyrics

Traditional English

I saw three ships come sailing by,
I saw three ships come sailing by,
By, by, by,
I saw three ships come sailing by.

I asked them what they’d got on board,
I asked them what they’d got on board,
Board, board, board,
I asked them what they’d got on board.

They said that they had got three crawns,
They said that they had got three crawns,
Crawns, crawns, crawns,
They said that they had got three crawns.

I asked them where they was taking them to,
I asked them where they was taking them to,
To, to, to,
I asked them where they was taking them to.

They said they was going to Koln upon Rhine,
They said they was going to Koln upon Rhine,
Koln, Koln upon Rhine,
They said they was going to Koln upon Rhine.

I asked them where they was bringing them from,
I asked them where they was bringing them from,
From, from, from,
I asked them where they was bringing them from.

They said they was coming from Bethlehem.
They said they was coming from Bethlehem.
Beth, Beth-e-le-hem.
They said they was coming from Bethlehem.

I saw three ships come sailing by,
I saw three ships come sailing by,
By, by, by,
I saw three ships come sailing by.

I saw three ships come sailing by.

Dave Para and his late wife Cathy Barton played and sang a lot of traditional music from Missouri and the Ozarks and did a couple of albums of Civil War music from Missouri with Bob Dyer. They were members of the Missouri Folklore Society since its revival 40 years ago. Loman Cansler often attended and sang at MFS events, and Becky Schroeder helped him put his collection at Western Historical Manuscripts, State Historical Society of Missouri. Dave continues to play throughout the US.

Introduced by Mark Gilston

I performed my first public concert at the Yellow Door Coffeehouse in Montreal in 1971. When I was putting together my set list, I noticed that two of the songs contained lyrics about ears which had been isolated from their owners’ heads. “The Cat Came Back” had the line, “Next day all they found was Freddy’s own right ear.” “Perrine” had the the line, “The mice they chewed and chewed and only left an ear.” I was also familiar with the song, “Jackknife” from the Unholy Modal Rounders, which begins, “I was cleaning my jackknife when you did appear. I had a fight with you; I cut off your ear.”

This all got me to wondering, were there many songs with missing or dismembered ears or other body parts? Thus began a collecting journey with many delightful finds and surprises. The next October, I heard Barry O’Neill sing “Shearing in a Bar” with “Two blows to clip away the wig… I also took an ear.” And at the same festival, I was introduced to the parody of “Captain Kidd,” “My name it is Van Gogh, lend an ear, lend an ear.”

I eventually compiled many of my best finds onto a CD entitled “Lend Me an Ear.” One of the songs which I had first heard in England in 1976 was “The Trooper and the Tailor.” But locating the version I had heard proved elusive. I discovered that versions had also been collected in the Catskill Mountains of New York and I conflated a couple of texts with the English melody and chorus which I found particularly delightful.

Listen to Mark sing the song accompanied on English concertina:

Lyrics

Traditional English – arranged by Mark Gilston © Copyright 2005

There was a fair lady in London did dwell,
For style and for beauty no one could excel,
And she had a husband who loved her right well,
And her husband, he was a bold trooper.

Refrain:
Ti in the Ti – I
Ta loo rum ta lie,
(repeat last line of verse)

There was a young tailor who lived there close by,
And on this fair lady he casted his eye;
He swore he would have her, or else he would die,
For he did not admire the bold trooper.

The tailor, he came awhile after ‘twas night
To seize on his jewel, his own heart’s delight,
Saying, “Ten guineas I’ll give to lie with you tonight,
For I hear that your husband’s on duty.”

“Oh yes, little tailor, you’ve guessed very right,
My husband’s on duty, oh, this very night;
But if he comes home, he’d give us a great fright,
For you know that my husband’s a trooper.”

So the bargain was made and to bed they did run,
They hadn’t been there long before fun had begun;
The fun being over, sleep swiftly did come,
And they had no more thoughts of the trooper.

The trooper came in in the midst of the night,
He rapped on the door, which gave them a great fright;
“Oh hide me, oh hide me, my sweet heart’s delight,
For I hear the bold knock of the trooper!”

“There’s a three-cornered cupboard behind the old door,
I’ll hide you in that, you’ll be safe and secure;
Then I will go down and I’ll open the door
And I’ll let in my husband, the trooper.”

She tripped down the stairs and she made a great din.
With compliments and kisses she welcomed him in;
“But for compliments and kisses I care not a pin:
Come light me a fire!” said the trooper.

“The fire is all out, and there’s no fire stuff,
So come to bed, darling, you’ll be warm enough!”
“There’s a three-cornered cupboard, it’s old and it’s rough,
And I’ll burn it this night,” cried the trooper.

Oh husband, dear husband, it’s not my desire,
for to burn a good cupboard to light you a fire,
For in it I keep a game-cock, I admire.”
“I’ll see your game-cock,” cried the trooper.

So he went to the cupboard, he opened the door:
And there sat the tailor all “safe and secure!”
Grabbed the nape of his neck, yanked him out on the floor,
”Is this your game-cock?” said the trooper!

He kicked and he cuffed him, and beat him severe;
With his own pair of shears he cut off his right ear –
“Now for this night’s lodging you’ve paid very dear!”
And away ran the poor cropp-ed tailor.

Mark Gilston was born and raised in New York City. Both of his parents were steeped in the folk music revival scene of the 1950’s. He grew up listening to 78’s and LP’s of American, Russian, Spanish, Caribbean and Israeli folk music. Learning guitar and taking piano lessons starting at age 5, he was constantly immersed in music. In his youth, Mark gained a love of traditional American ballads and Old-Time songs and instrumentals from recordings and from his father, who often sang the old ballads which he had learned in his youth in Appalachia.

After earning a Bachelor’s degree in Folklore, Mark went to graduate school at SUNY Binghamton studying ethnomusicology and ended up settling there until 1994.

Mark has been giving concerts and leading workshops since 1971. He interned at the Library of Congress archive of Folk Song, and has worked as a researcher for Alan Lomax. He has published numerous articles and books on music and folklore. Mark is also a multi-instrumentalist with an international reputation in English concertina and mountain dulcimer. He won the prestigious National Mountain Dulcimer Championship in 2016. Mark has 14 CDs on the Ramble Creek and Creative Engineering labels. “The Trooper and the Tailor” is on Mark’s second CD, Lend Me an Ear.

Introduced by Lee Murdock

This song was composed by Henry C. Work in the wake of one of the worst maritime disasters to occur until that time. The Lady Elgin was a side-wheel steam-powered vessel, 300 feet long with a capacity of 1000 tons. She carried finished goods, mail, general freight and passengers between lake-towns in the United States and Canada. Her master was Captain Jack Wilson, well respected among his peers and considered a first-rate sailor.

On the evening of September 8, 1860, the Lady Elgin slipped her lines at the dock in Chicago, Illinois, on her return trip down Lake Michigan, the next stop being Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Around midnight, a storm blew up, creating slow going in the frothy seas. The lumber schooner Augusta was heading to South Chicago with her load when she accidentally ran into the Lady Elgin in the confused seas. Although her bow was damaged, the Augusta continued onto her destination, leaving the crippled steamer to her fate.

Shortly thereafter, the Lady Elgin sank, leaving in her wake many passengers fighting for survival, clinging to the debris still floating amid huge waves. As the night progressed, the stormy winds from the northeast continued to rage, blowing the survivors toward shore.

Come morning, over three hundred people had lost their lives, many being dashed along the rocks along the lakeshore, within a hundred feet of salvation. As with many tragic events, this shipwreck was reported in the newspapers extensively, even as far away as England in The Illustrated London News.

Originally, this song spoke to the emotional sense of loss to those families who lost loved ones in this tragedy. As I researched the story behind the song, I came across first-hand accounts of this event that were not related in the original lyrics. Therefore, I took it upon myself (with some trepidation) to “add to the tradition” by writing three additional verses that tell of bravery and sacrifice in the face of this disaster.

Performance by Lee Murdock, with a spoken introduction

Lyrics:

Up from the poor man’s cottage, forth from the mansion door;
Sweeping across the valley and echoing along the shore;
Caught by the morning breezes, borne on the evening gale;
Comes the voice of mourning, a sad and solemn wail.

Chorus:
Lost on the Lady Elgin, sleeping to wake no more,
Numbered with those three hundred who failed to reach the shore.

Staunch was the noble steamer, precious the freight she bore,
Gaily she loosed her cables a few short hours before.
Grandly she swept our harbor, joyfully rang her bell,
Little thought we ere morning ‘twould toll so sad a knell.

Chorus

*A thunderstorm at midnight, big seas began to roll,
One hundred miles of water was the noble steamer’s goal.
But a fatal slash on her port side from a schooner bearing pine,
An eerie silence shrouded all, the dying engines whined.

Chorus

*Oh, here’s to Captain Wilson, may his soul forever rest,
When his noble steamer plunged beneath the surging crest.
Leading songs and prayers for every woman, man and child,
He bravely faced the elements on that long night so wild.

Chorus

*And here’s to Edward Spencer, who lived along the shore,
That night the waves came breaking in with cries above the roar.
Sixteen times he plunged into the boiling surf to wrest
Another soul to safety asking, “Did I do my best?”

‘Tis the sound of children, crying for parents gone.
Children slept that evening, but orphans woke at dawn.
Sisters for brothers weeping, husbands for missing wives,
Such were the ties dissevered by those three hundred lives.

Chorus

*Additional verses added by Lee Murdock.

Reprinted from Lake Rhymes, Folk Songs of the Great Lakes Region, ©2019 by Lee & Joann Murdock

Lee Murdock has one foot in contemporary folk music, and one foot firmly planted in the folk music tradition. In his arrangements of songs from traditional archives, the listener will hear the influences of Woody Guthrie, Leadbelly, David Crosby, Dan Fogelberg, Stan Rogers, Carolan, and Martin Carthy.

Having studied the traditional folk songs of the British Isles and Appalachian American music, Lee discovered the music of the Great Lakes region while searching for the folk songs from his native Illinois and the midwest. In that quest, Murdock uncovered a boundless body of music and stories about the Great Lakes. Grounded in the work song tradition, Murdock comes alongside with ballads of contemporary commerce in the grand folk style.

On the traditional side, Murdock draws heavily on the archives of authentic sailing songs collected in the early twentieth century. Housed at the University of Michigan, Professor Ivan Walton’s collection of songs of the Great Lakes sailors was unpublished until 2002, when Detroit journalist Joe Grimm completed Walton’s work, published by the Wayne State University Press and titled Windjammers, Songs of the Great Lakes Sailors. Murdock’s contribution of the musical scores to the text filled a long-missing link in North American folklore and song.

He has released 21 CDs from 1981-2018, with each recording presenting a balance of traditional, original and contemporary music with a ear to expanding the audience of folk music lovers. With a deeper understanding of the folk process, Lee Murdock’s work is a documentary and also an anthem to the people who live, work, learn and play along the freshwater highways of North America.

Introduced by Kim Wallach

It was autumn, around 16 years ago, a friend died unexpectedly of a heart attack. My marriage with my hopes and dreams was also dying. I was searching through my big collections of songs—Lomax, Warner, etc.—tracking down songs I wanted to learn. I found “Pinery Boy,” and the Warner version of “Lang a-Growing.” Then in Folk Songs of the Catskills by Cazden, Haufrecht & Studer, State University of New York Press, Albany c 1982, I found the relatively rare “Bright Phoebe.” The raw grief and loss in both melody and lyric matched what I was feeling perfectly, and I set about learning it.

I am a singer and a songwriter. The way I understand the world, my place in it and my feelings about it has always been through music.

Ellen Cohn sings the same melody, but a different set of words. You can hear her version here:

You can also hear Stan Ransome, the Connecticut Peddler, here:

Lyrics:

Bright Phoebe was my true love’s name
Her beauty did my heart contain
You’d never find a fairer dame
If you’d search the wide world over

Me and my love we did agree
That shortly married we would be
If ever I returned from sea
We’d seal that solemn bargain

But when I did return again
Death had my dear companion slain
The joy and comfort of my life
In the cold ground lies a-mouldering

I wish I’d never come on shore
Nor viewed my native land no more
But stayed where the billows loud did roar
A-mourning for Bright Phoebe

I’ll go unto some foreign place
Where I can see no human face
and spend the restance of my life
A-mourning for Bright Phoebe

Kim Wallach is a singer of original, traditional and wonderful songs dwelling in southwest New Hampshire. Recently retired as a public school music teacher, she is enjoying playing music for Firebird, a molly and border team, going to Monadnock area pub sings, caring for her aging mom and adopted “malted,” and even doing the occasional gig. You can still contact her through her website, kimwallach.com, and order all her CDs including the latest, Chatter of the Finches, through CDBaby and other online sources.

by Mark Walker
Introduced and performed by Anita Best

“Tickle Cove Pond” was written by Mark Walker, a fisherman and songwriter who lived in Tickle Cove, Bonavista Bay in Newfoundland, Canada during the late 19th century. This song is prized locally for the beauty and wit of the lyrics, which turn a mundane event into an act of heroism. In addition, this song has been recorded by a St. John’s Traditional Folk group called Connemara, Anita Best and Sandy Morris on a CD entitled Some Songs, and by classical singer Meredith Hall. It was also recorded by the Vermont-based ensemble Nightingale.

Lyrics:

In cuttin’ and haulin’ in frost and in snow
We’re up against troubles that few people know.
And only by patience with courage and grit
And eatin’ plain food can we keep ourselves fit.
The hard and the easy we take as it comes.
And when ponds freeze over we shorten our runs.
To hurry my hauling – the Spring coming on,
Near lost me my mare on Tickle Cove Pond.

I knew that the ice became weaker each day,
But still took the risk and kept hauling away.
One evening in April, bound home with a load,
The mare showed some halting against the ice road
And knew more than I did, as matters turned out,
And lucky for me had I joined in her doubt.
She turned ’round her head, and with tears in her eyes,
As if she were saying: “You’re risking our lives.”

All this I ignored with a whip-handle blow,
For man is too stupid dumb creatures to know.
The very next minute the pond gave a sigh,
And down to our necks went poor Kitty and I.
For if I had taken wise Kitty’s advice,
I never would take the short cut on the ice.
“Poor creature she’s dead and poor creature she’s gone;
I’ll never get my wood off the Tickle Cove Pond.”

I raised an alarm you could hear for a mile.
And neighbours turned up in a very short while.
You can always rely on the Oldfords and Whites
To render assistance in all your bad plights.
To help a poor neighbour is part of their lives;
The same I can say of their children and wives.
When the bowline was fastened around the mare’s breast
William White for a shanty song made a request.
There was no time for thinking, no time for delay.
So straight from my head came this song right away:

“Lay hold William Oldford, lay hold William White,
Lay hold of the cordage and pull all your might,
Lay hold of the bowline and pull all you can,
And give me a lift with poor Kit on the pond.”
Lay hold William Oldford, lay hold William White.
Lay hold of the hawser and pull all your might.
Lay hold to the bowline and pull all you can.”
And with that we brought Kit out of Tickle Cove Pond.

Anita Best was born in the country of Newfoundland, which became a part of Canada the following year. She was raised in a fishing family that was resettled in the mid 1960s by a government centralization program. She spent her teenage years in the capital, St. John’s. Initially, she became a high-school French teacher, but followed parallel careers as a singer, folklorist, archivist, broadcaster, and Parks Canada guide. She performs at festivals, house concerts, and other events all over the United States and Canada, with an occasional foray to the UK. She performs unaccompanied as well as with guitarist Sandy Morris, and also with musical partner Pamela Morgan. She has recorded several CDs of both traditional and contemporary Newfoundland-based songs.