One of the great occupational songs (you can hear it on the Virginia Company's album Nine Points of Roguery) is A-Beggin' I Will Go, which lists all the benefits of begging as a trade. Modern beggars just don't have the panache, the job training, the respect for their craft. Perhaps they could profit from learning this song.
Peter Kennedy has some of the song's history in his massive collection, Folksongs of Britain and Ireland, p. 497. He says William Chappell believed this song was sung as early as 1641 in Brome's comedy The Jovial Crew, (or The Merry Beggars), which was performed at The Cockpit theater, Drury Lane. A chorus of beggars in the play may also have performed a dance called The Beggar's Rant, and the popular song was later published as an instrumental piece for dancing. The earliest printed version listed is Playford's Choyce Ayres, printed in 1684, with almost identical verses to those still sung in places in England today. The first verse in the Playford book is: "There was a jolly beggar, He had a wooden leg. Lame from his cradle, And he was forced to beg."
This verse, of course, reminds us of that other popular song about beggars, the Irish song The Little Beggarman, which is sung to the tune Red Haired Boy. That beggar is Old Johnny Dhu, and he says "of all the trades and callings, sure, beggin' is the best, for when a man is weary, he can lay him down and rest." I guess everyone is agreed that one of the main benefits of the occupation is being able to lay down on the job whenever one desires. In this country, there's a song to the same tune, which is probably a Civil War era song, with the words:
There was an old soldier, and he had a wooden leg. He had no tobacco, and tobacco he would beg.
Said this old soldier, "Will you give me a chew?" Says the other old soldier, "I'll be danged if I do!'"
Back to A-Beggin' I Will Go, one of the verses is: "I fear no plots against me, I live in open cell. Then who would be a King, when beggars live so well." Peter Kennedy explains this odd verse is thought to refer to James V of Scotland travelling in disguise. The Scots version of the song describes further how you should prepare yourself for your new career:
"Afore that I do gang awa, I'll let my beard grow strang, And for my nails I winna pare, for beggars wear them lang.
I'll gang to some greasy cook and buy frae her a hat, wi twa-three inches o the rim, A-glitterin owre wi fat."
Now that you have your outfit, you're almost ready... but don't forget your begging dish. A wooden leg is not a prerequisite for the job, as you can make do with crutches and an eyepatch. For further tips on embarking on your new career, here's the song complete with words and music. To hear the tune as a midi file, click here.
Now, here's a familiar tune - or perhaps you know it by another title? - Nancy Dawson, the tune now used for our children's song "Here we go 'round the mulberry bush". The tune was named for a famous dancer during the reign of George II. A biography of Nancy Dawson was published in 1760, and she died in 1767. From a book of the entertainers of those times called Dramatic History of Master Edward, Miss Ann, and others, it seems she was a dancer at Sadler's Wells, and "she was extremely agreeable in her figure, and the novelty of her dancing added to it, with her excellence in her execution, she soon grew to be a favorite with the town; and in the ensuing season was engaged at Covent Garden playhouse. She became vastly celebrated, admired, imitated, and followed by everybody." She was supposed to have been very charitable and admired for her good qualities as much as her dancing. She was buried in the Chapel of St. George the Martyr, Queen Square, Bloomsbury, where her tombstone says only, "Here lies Nancy Dawson." There are several different portraits of her in existence, one being in Dr. Burney's Collection of Theatrical Portraits in the British Museum.
The tune became a popular English country dance, even in France, and harpsichord variations were written as Miss Dawson's Hornpipe. It appears in the ballad opera Love in a Village (1762) as a housemaid's song. Although Nancy Dawson died in 1767, I found the tune still quite popular years later, appearing in James Aird's first collection, printed in Glasgow about 1778, to William Vickers' collection made in the British Isles around 1772, to many American commonplace books by fifers, fiddlers and flute players from the Revolutionary War period and beyond.
This information comes from William Chappell's The Ballad Literature and Popular Music of the Olden Times, Vol. II, (originally published in 1859). A recording of the tune is on the CD Pass'd Times. The sheet music and midi are on the music pages. Here's the tune and the words:
The most important source of English Country Dance music from 1651 to about 1728 is the Playford books. One of the more complex tunes in John Playford's "The Dancing Master" is "Ormond House", probably named in honor of James Butler (1665 - 1745), the second and last Duke of Ormond. The tune appears in the 11th edition in 1702, thirteen years before James lost his title. But I'm getting ahead of the story.
The word "butler" is derived from French "bouteillier" or "botiller" originally meaning the wine bottler, or later, the king's man in charge of the wine. The "butler" eventually came to mean the person in charge of everything in the household, including being the administrator in charge of all the other servants. The Butler family in question were apparently great administrators for centuries, and have a long history in both England and Ireland.
Long histories have their ups and downs. A James Butler was made the first Earl of Ormond in 1328. Thomas Boleyn, the father of Anne Boleyn, was made Earl of Ormond in 1529. The first Duke of Ormond, the 12th Earl, managed to remain loyal to the House of Stuart during the Cromwellian usurpations, though he was also an able diplomat during the wars and remained exempted from Cromwell's Act for Settlement of Ireland. In 1661 Charles II made him Duke of Ormond of Ireland, and later of England as well. He served six terms as Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and among his accomplishments established Dublin's Phoenix Park.
On the First Duke of Ormond's death in 1688 he was succeeded by his son, also named James. Loyalty to the Stuarts ultimately led to this James' downfall. In 1715, the Earl of Mar led a Jacobite rebellion in Scotland to proclaim James Francis Edward Stuart, the "Old Pretender", King of England. James Butler backed James Stuart, and even became the Pretender's secretary. The Jacobite rebellion failed; and the titles of Duke of Ormond were abolished by an act of attainder. James Stuart went on to become the father of Charles Edward Stuart, "Bonnie Prince Charlie" whose second Jacobite Rebellion in 1745 ended with his defeat at Culloden. James Butler, the former 2nd Duke of Ormond, died in Avignon, France in the same year.
"Ormond House" is not a tune likely to be sight read on the first glance. The sheet music and midi are on the music pages. A recording is on the Vintage Virginia album, by The Virgina Company.
I have a copy of the delightful song book The Edinburgh Musical Miscellany, printed in Edinburgh in 1793 by Grant & Moir. Every once in awhile, playing through the songs, I come across a tune, and say, "I know that tune!!! But what was its name the last time I made its acquaintance???" Song CXIV, on page 266 is one such tune, The Little Man and Little Maid. The tune appeared in John Playford's first edition of The English Dancing Master, of 1651, as Paul's Steeple, or St. Paul's Steeple. The same tune is used for the Scottish song John Anderson, My Jo, the text of which can be found about 1620, and I don't know about any earlier printings of the tune itself. As to the words of the two songs, same general topic, but Little Man and Maid is more genteel, as befits these Delicate Times.
The last line of the song was a puzzler: "And could have of a cat but her skin." Then I discovered in The Wordsworth Dictionary of Phrase & Fable, based on the original 1870 book of Ebenezer Cobham Brewer, an explanation, sort of, for the phrase: "What can you have of a cat but her skin? Said of something that is useless for any purpose but one. The cat's fur was used for trimming cloaks, etc., but the flesh was no good for anything."
Without further ado, the Song:
There was a well known English proverb, "The Vicar of Bray will be Vicar of Bray still", and the song Vicar of Bray was a popular one, having its words changed to suit the occasion, including an American Revolutionary War era song. The vicars of Bray, in Berkshire, have been some of its most interesting characters, apparently all upholding the same principle as the most famous one, Simon Aleyn, of the mid-sixteenth century.
"He was a Papist under the reign of Henry VIII, and a Protestant under Edward VI; he was a Papist again under Mary, and once more became a Protestant in the reign of Elizabeth. When this scandal to the gown was reproached for his versatility of religious creeds, and taxed for being a turncoat and an inconstant changeling...he replied, 'Not so neither, for if I changed my religion, I am sure I kept true to my principle; which is, to live and die the Vicar of Bray.' " (He succeeded and is buried there.) The well-known song, however, was written about 1720 in the reign of George I, perhaps by a soldier in Colonel Fuller's troop of Dragoons, of Dr. Francis Carswell, Vicar of Bray during the reigns of Charles II, James II, William III, Ann, and George I. He was said to have been "an old rich stingy turncoat and a curmudgeon of unsettled head." (Information from The Doomsday Book, ed. by Thomas Hinde, and Chappell's Popular Music of the Olden Time, Vol. 2.)
The subject of the American version is unknown, but may have been the publisher of the Pennsylvania Evening Post, Benjamin Towne, whose newspaper, before, during and after the British occupation espoused the viewpoint of whoever was currently in power. Here is the tune, and the American version, from Carolyn Rabson's Songbook of the American Revolution, p. 62:
1. When Royal George ruled o'er this land and loyalty no harm meant, For church and king I made a stand and so I got preferment. I still opposed all party tricks for reasons I thought clear ones, And swore it was their politics to make us Presbyterians.
And this is law that I'll maintain until my dying day, sir,
That whatsoever king shall reign, I'll be the Vicar of Bray, sir.
2. When Stamp Act passed the Parliament to bring some grist to mill, sir, To back it was my firm intent, But soon there came repeal, sir. I quickly joined the common cry That we should all be slaves, sir. The House of Commons was a sty, The Kings and Lords were knaves, sir.
3. Now all went smooth, as smooth could be, I strutted and looked big, sir; And when they laid a tax on tea, I was believed a Whig, sir; I laughed at all the vain pretence Of taxing at a distance, And swore before I'd pay a pence, I'd make a firm resistance.
4. A Congress now was quickly called That we might act together. I thought that Britain would, appalled, Be glad to make fair weather, And soon repeal the obnoxious bill, As she had done before, sir; That we might gather wealth at will And so be taxed no more, sir.
5. But Britain was not quickly scared; She told another story. When independence was declared I figured as a Tory, Declared it was rebellion base To take up arms...I cursed it, For, faith, it seemed a settled case That we should soon be worsted.
6. The French alliance now came forth; The Papists flocked in shoals, sir. Friseurs, marquis, valets of birth, And priests to save our souls, sir. Our "good ally" with towering wing Embraced the flattering hope, sir, That we should own him for our King And then invite the Pope, sir.
7. Then Howe with drum and great parade Marched through this famous town, sir, I cried, "May fame his temples shade With laurels for a crown, sir." With zeal I swore to make amends To good old Constitution: And drank confusion to the friends Of our late Revolution.
8. But poor Burgoyne's announced my fate: The Whigs began to glory. I now bewailed my wretched state That e'er I was a Tory. By night the British left the shore Nor cared for friends a fig, sir; I turned the cat in pan once more, and so became a Whig, sir.
9. I called the army butchering dogs, A bloody tyrant King, sir, The Commons, Lords, a set of rogues That all deserved to swing, sir. Since fate has made us great and free, And Providence can't falter, So Congress e'er my king shall be....Unless the times shall alter.
In a previous article about the song The Vicar of Bray, I mentioned that this popular song had its words changed to suit many occasions, including a Revolutionary War song. The original song was written about Bray's most famous Vicar, Simon Aleyn. "He was a Papist under the reign of Henry VIII, and a Protestant under Edward VI; he was a Papist again under Mary, and once more became a Protestant in the reign of Elizabeth. When reproached for his lack of principles, he replied: 'Not so, for if I changed my religion, I am sure I kept true to my principle; which is, to live and die the Vicar of Bray.' "
And now, my favorite version of The Vicar of Bray, a history of the English monarchy through alcoholic beverages. And if you missed the tune the first time round, here's the tune again, with these words, from The Convivial Songster, Being a Select Collection of the Best Songs In the English Language; Humourous, Satirical, Bacchanalian &c.&c.&c., printed in London in 1782 for John Fielding:
1. In Charles the Second's merry days, For wanton frolic noted, A lover of cabals I was, With wine like Bacchus bloated. I preached unto my crowded pews, Wine was by God's command, sir; And damn'd was he who did refuse to drink while he could stand, sir.
And this is law that I'll maintain until my dying day, sir,
That whatsoever king shall reign, I'll drink a gallon a day, sir.
2. When James the sot assumed the throne, He strove to stand alone, sir: But quickly got so drunk that down He tumbled from the throne, sir. One morning, crop-sick, pale, and queer, By sitting up with gay men, He reel'd to Rome, where priests severe Deny the cup to laymen.
And this is law, &c.
3. Then Will, the tippling Dutchman, sav'd Our liberties from sinking; We crowned him king of cups, and crav'd The privilege of thinking. He drank your Holland's gin, 'tis said, And held predestination: Fool! not to know the tippling trade Admits no trepidation
And this is law, &c.
4. When brandy Nan became our queen, 'Twas all a drunken story; I sat and drank from morn till e'en, And so was thought a tory. Brim full of wine, all sober folks We damn'd, and moderation,
And for right Nantz we pawn'd to France Our dearest reputation.
And this is law I will maintain For ever and for aye, sir:
That, whether king or queen shall reign, I'll drink a gallon a day, sir.
5. King George the First then fill'd the throne, And took the resolution To drink all sorts of liquors known, To save the constitution. He drank success, in rare old rum, Unto the state and church, sir. Till with a dose of Brunswick mum He dropp'd from off the perch, sir.
And this is law, &c.
6. King George the Second then arose, A wise and valiant soul, sir: He lov'd his people, beat his foes, And push'd about the bowl, sir. He drank his fill to Chatham Will, To heroes, for he chose 'em; With us true whigs he drank until He slept in Abraham's bosom.
And this is law, &c.
7. His present majesty then came, Whom heaven long preserve, sir; He glory'd in a Briton's name, And swore he'd never swerve, sir. Though evil counsellors may think His love for us to sever, Yet let us loyal Britons drink King George the Third for ever!
And this is law I will maintain For ever and aye, sir:
That whatsoever king shall reign, I'll drink both night and day, sir.
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