Happy Monday, readers! In recognition of the work week starting yet again, today's song is a piece from the Industrial Workers of the World. "The Preacher and the Slave", also called "Long-Haired Preachers", was written by union organizer and later martyr Joe Hill in 1911. The song was written during a period of conflict between the anti-capitalist IWW and the Salvation Army, which opposed the union's leftist goals. In some cases, bosses opposed to the IWW's message would even send in Salvation Army bands to drown out agitators and speakers. This song is one of several parodying the Salvation Army's hymns- in this case, the song "In the Sweet By and By", written in 1868 by S. Fillmore Bennett and Joseph P Webster. The following rendition is by Utah Phillips, the late famous folk singer, Wobbly, and co-founder of the Catholic Workers' Joe Hill House of Hospitality in Salt Lake City.
This rendition is by Blake Hutchings, a UK-based singer/songwriter
The lyrics are as follows, with the parts in brackets often shouted by other performers, as seen in this recording of myself and a banjo-picker named Rachel perform it some years ago in St. Cloud.
Verse #1:
G C G
Long-haired preachers come out every night
G D
Try to tell you what's wrong and what's right
G C G
But when asked how 'bout something to eat
G D G
They will answer in voices so sweet
Chorus Type #1:
G C
You will eat [you will eat!], bye and bye [by and by!]
G D
In that glorious land above the sky [way up high!]
G C
Work and pray, live on hay [live on hay!]
G D G
You'll get pie in the sky when you die [that's a lie!]
Verse #2:
G C G
And the Starvation Army, they play
G D
And they sing and they clap and they pray
G C G
Till they get all your coin on the drum
G D G
Then they tell you when you're on the bum
Chorus Type #1
Verse #3:
G C G
Holy Rollers and Jumpers come out
G D
And they holler, they jump and they shout
G C G
Give your money to Jesus, they say
G D G
He will cure all diseases today
Chorus Type #1
Verse #4:
G C G
If you fight hard for children and wife
G D
Try to get something good in this life
G C G
You're a sinner and bad man, they tell
G D G
When you die you will sure go to hell.
Chorus Type #1
Verse #5:
G C G
Workingmen of all countries, unite
G D
Side by side we for freedom will fight
G C G
When the world and its wealth we have gained
G D G
To the grafters we'll sing this refrain
Chorus Type #2:
G C
You will eat, bye and bye [bye and bye]
G D
When you've learned how to cook and how to fry [how to fry!]
G C
Chop some wood [chop some wood], 'twill do you good [do you good]
G D G
Then you'll eat in the sweet bye and bye [that's no lie!]
Hello, reader(s)! Because the blog missed two weekdays, I thought I'd start to make them up with some extra posts. So, today's folk infusion is "The Deamon Lover", a Scottish folk song known in America as "The House Carpenter" (Roud14, Child 243). The song is also sometimes called "James Harris" or "James Harries".
The song tells the story of a woman whose former lover has come to visit her after being long away at sea. The woman tells this lover that she will not go with him him or marry him, because she now has a husband and children. In some versions, the husband is named as James Harris or his occupation is given as a house carpenter. The lover convinces her to come with him by promising her ships, wealth, and travel. The woman goes along with him, only to fall into mourning as she misses her husband and babe and discovers that her lover was not her lover at all, but the devil come to trick her into damnation. The devil shows her the hills of heaven and the hills of hell, and tells her she is going to hell, then sinks the boat, killing her.
Here is The Deamon Lover performed by Alasdair Roberts.
The lyrics, as arranged in Alasdair Roberts' rendition, are as follows:
Where have you been my long, long love These seven long years or more? I'm seeking for my former vows You gave to me before'
'Oh, hold your tongue of your former vows For they will breed sad strife Hold your tongue of your former vows For I'm become a wife'
He's turned him right and round about And the salt tear blint his ee 'I never would have trodden on Irish ground But for the love of thee'
'If I should leave my dear husband And my two babes also What have you to take me to If I with you would go?'
'I've seven ships upon the sea And the eighth brought me to land With four and twenty mariners bold And music on command'
She's put her foot on board the ship No mariners she beheld But the sails were of the taffeta And the masts of the beaten gold
They had not sailed a league, a league A league but barely three Til dismal grew his countenance And drumly grew the sea
They had not sailed a league, a league A league but barely three Until she saw his cloven foot And she wept most bitterly
'Leave off your weeping' then said he 'Of your weeping let me be And I'll show you how the lilies grow On the banks of Italy'
'What hill, what hill is thon I see As white as any snow?' 'Thon is the hill of heaven' he said Where all good people go
'What hill, what hill is thon I see As black as any coal?' 'Thon is the hill of hell' he said 'Where you and I must go'
He struck the top mast with his hand And the main mast with his knee And he struck that gallant ship in two And he sunk her beneath the sea.
Here is the more lively American adaptation, House Carpenter, performed by American folk master Doc Watson.
Here is another arrangement of House Carpenter, performed in an even more lively rendition by the Irish band Sweeney's Men.
Also worth noting is Bob Dylan's song, the Man in the Long Black Coat, which tells the story from the House Carpenter's perspective. Because Bob Dylan does generally not allow his own recordings to be shared freely on the internet, here is that song covered by Mark Lanegan:
Welcome back to Folk Infusion- we've had a two day haitus due to troubles with the blog site, but we're back for Friday's drinking song! I'll be heading down to Merlin's Rest tonight for the 8:00 Celtic session, so in that spirit, today's selection is "The Old Dun Cow" a song I first heard from the St. Paul Irish singer, Tom Dahill. It was written in 1893 by the English pub-song writer Harry Wincott. The dun (light brown) cow is a common motif in English folk lore, and an equally common name for English drinking establishments.
Dun Cow is a common English pub name
The song tells the story of a band of stalwart men who, faced with a fire in the pub, bravely stay behind to rescue the liquor from the conflagration by passing it through their bloodstreams and livers. The song is a great sing-along for pubs, as one line ("don't let them in 'til it's all mopped up/somebody shouted MacIntyre") allows the audience to loudly shout, "MacIntyre!" at the top of their ale-besotted lungs. The significance of "MacIntyre" or why it is to be shouted is lost to the foggy mists of time. It's been speculated that it's cockney rhyming slang or a mock-up of the same. Others maintain that the original version went, "don't let them in 'til it's all mopped up, somebody said to MacIntyre", and was later changed. It's also possible that Wincott just needed a word that rhymed with "fire", and figured he'd give the audience something to shout in the process, thus improving the song immensely. While the song was originally English, it has since been adopted by the Celtic music scene, especially Irish-Americans (it appeals, perhaps, to the demographic of the audience that comes to an Irish show expecting drinking songs rather than mournful ballads about land theft, infanticide, and martyrdom).
Unfortunately, I can't find Dahill's great rendition, but this one will do:
The lyrics of the song vary from place as place as tradition and inebriation dictates, but the basic gist is as follows:
Some friends and I
in a public house
Was playing a game of chance[1] one night
When into the pub a fireman ran
His face all a chalky white.
"What's up", says Brown, "Have you seen a ghost,
Or have you seen your Aunt Mariah?"
"Me Aunt Mariah be buggered!", says he,
"The bleedin' pub's on fire!"
"On fire?", says Brown, "What a bit of luck!
"Everybody follow me![2]
down in the cellar, if the fire ain't there,
we'll have a rare old spree!"
so we all went down with good old Brown
and beer we could not miss
and we hadn't been ten minutes there
when we were all quite pissed
And there was Brown
upside down
Lappin'' up the whiskey on the floor.
"Booze, booze!" The firemen cried
As they came knockin' on the door (clap clap)
Oh don't let 'em in till it's all drunk up
And somebody shouted MacIntyre! [entire pub shouts: MACINTYRE!]
And we all got blue-blind paralytic drunk
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire.
Then, Smith walked
over to the port wine tub
And gave it just a few hard knocks (clap clap)
Started takin' off his pantaloons
Likewise his shoes and socks.
"Hold on, " says Brown, "that ain't allowed
Ya cannot do that thing here.
Don't go washin' your trousers in the port wine tub
When we got all this light beer."
chorus
[rare optional verse]
Don't be Shane McGowan. Drink responsibly.
Then there came from
the old back door
The Vicar of the local church.
And when he saw our drunken ways,
He began to scream and curse.
"Ah, you drunken sods! You heathen clods!
You've taken to a drunken spree!
You drank up all the Benedictine wine
And you didn't save a drop for me!"
chorus
And then there came
a mighty crash
Half the bloody roof caved in.
We were almost drowned in the firemen's hose
But still we were gonna stay.
So we got some tacks and some old wet sacks
And we nailed ourselves inside
And we sat drinking the finest Rum[3]
Till we were bleary-eyed.
Chorus
[optional final verse]
Later that night,
when the fire was out
We came up from the cellar below.
Our pub was burned. Our booze was drunk.
Our heads was hanging low.
"Oh look", says Brown with a look quite queer.
Seems something raised his ire.
"Now we gotta get down to Murphy's Pub,
It closes on the hour!"
Chorus
[1] Alternative: "were playing dominoes one/last night"
[2] Alt: "Come along with me", says he!
[3] Alt: pints of stout
Today's song is The Kerry Recruit, a semi-humorous ballad about a young man who is talked into enlisting to fight in the Crimean War. The song is one of many Irish anti-recruitment songs, a tradition stretching back to around the Napoleonic era. The song is not from the Crimean war itself- it was written by Seamus O'Farrell in 1915, during the First World War. According to Paddy Tunney, the song was considered one of many treasonous songs by the British authorities, carrying a six-month jail sentence for singing it.
The Charge of the Light Brigade at Balaclava
The Crimean War, fought 1853-56, say Russia (and, to some extent, Austria) lose to an alliance of Britain, France, the Ottoman Empire, and Sardinia. While the immediate cause of the war was the rights of Catholics in the Ottoman-controlled Holy Land, the more underlying cause was the Russian Empire's pressure on the declining Ottoman Empire, and the French and British unwillingness to allow Russia to gain further territory from the Ottomans and thus more power with which to compete with French and British interests. The war resulted in expanded Christian rights in the Holy Land and a two-decade respite from Russian aggression for the Ottomans. The war itself was notable for several developments, enabled by such technologies as the telegraph and the railway. It was one of the first wars to be extensively photographed and reported back to the home countries of those fighting. It was also one of the first wars to employ the sort of trenches and modern tactics that would come to their horrible apex in World War One.
Here is a version by The Dubliners, with Bobby Lynch on vocals. Worth noting is also Luke Kelly's slower a capella version. Also interesting is The Shamrock Rebels' rendition, which the roughly to the tune of Mrs. McGrath.
The lyrics are as follows
About four years ago I was digging the land
With me brogues on me feet and me spade in me hand
Says I to me self, what a pity to see,
Such a fine strapping lad footing turf round Tralee
Wid me too ra na nya with me too ra na nya,
Wid me too ra na noo ra na noo ra na nya
Well I buttered me brogues, an shook hands with me spade,
An the way down the road like a dashing young blade
When up comes a sergeant an he asks me to list,
'Arra, sergeant a gra, stick a bob in me fist'
Wid me too ra na nya with me too ra na nya,
Wid me too ra na noo ra na noo ra na nya
Well here is a shilling as I got no more
When you get to headquarters you'll get half a score
And a quick strucking mean said the sergeant good bye
You'd not wish to be quarted neither would die
Wid me too ra na nya with me too ra na nya,
Wid me too ra na noo ra na noo ra na nya
Now the first thing they gave me it was a red coat,
With a wide strap of leather to tie round me throat
And the next thing they gave me I asked what was that,
And they told me it was a cockade for me hat
Wid me too ra na nya with me too ra na nya,
Wid me too ra na noo ra na noo ra na nya
An' the next thing they gave me they called it a gun
With powder an ball an' a place for me thumb
Well first it fire spat and then she spewed smoke,
An' they gave me out shoulders such a hell of a stroke
Wid me too ra na nya with me too ra na nya,
Wid me too ra na noo ra na noo ra na nya
The British attack on Redan
Well the first place they sent me was down to the sea,
On the board of a warship bound for the Crimea
Three sticks in the middle all rowled round with sheets,
Welcome back to Folk Infusion! Today's song is "John Brown's Body", an old Civil War marching tune, as well as some major anthems that have spring up from the same tune. The song is written in honor of the abolitionist John Brown, most famous for his attacks on members of pro-slavery militias in Kansas, his attempted taking of Harper's Ferry in Virginia, and his subsequent execution.
The tune of the song was taken was from "Say Brothers Will You Meet Us", a simple and repetitive three-verse hymn from the camp meetings of the Second Great Awakening of the 1800s (though some folk music historians claim it goes back further, to an African American wedding song, a British sea shanty, or a Swedish tune). This Second Great Awakening, which began in the 1790s and had passed its peak around the 1840s, was a Protestant revival movement in response to the rise of skepticism, deism, and rationalism. During the Awakening, itinerant preachers would roam the frontier, organizing large meetings where families would travel and camp to listen to preachers and sing hymns. In typical Camp Revival style, "Say Brothers Will You Meet Us" has no set lyrics. Improvisation, driven by religious fervor and passion, was important to revivalist music.While I cannot find a recording of the hymn and have neither the time nor inclination to make one, a person listening at a camp revival may have heard lyrics something like this:
Say, Brother, will you meet us down by Canaan's happy shore? (x3)
as we go marching on
Chorus:
Glory, glory, alleluiah! (x3)
as we go marching on
Say, Sister, will you meet us down by Canaan's happy shore? (x3)
as we go marching on
By the grace of God we'll meet you,...
That will be a happy meeting,.....
Jesus lives and reigns forever,....
his Judgement Day is coming...
It was from this basic mold that John Brown's Body arose. The new lyrics seem to have come,
according to an 1890 account, from a group of soldiers in the
Massachussetts Second Infantry Batallion, or the "Tiger Batallion".
Apparently, these soldiers were not only singing about John Brown the
abolitionist, but also getting some degree of mirth from the fact that a
Sergeant John Brown was enlisted with them. According to the veteran George Kimball's account in 1890,
"We had a jovial Scotchman in the battalion, named John Brown. . . . and
as he happened to bear the identical name of the old hero of Harper's
Ferry, he became at once the butt of his comrades. If he made his
appearance a few minutes late among the working squad, or was a little
tardy in falling into the company line, he was sure to be greeted with
such expressions as "Come, old fellow, you ought to be at it if you are
going to help us free the slaves"; or, "This can't be John Brown--why,
John Brown is dead." And then some wag would add, in a solemn, drawling
tone, as if it were his purpose to give particular emphasis to the fact
that John Brown was really, actually dead: "Yes, yes, poor old John
Brown is dead; his body lies mouldering in the grave."
These phrases eventually became a mantra, according to Kimball's account, until they were adapted into words and put to the tune of the hymn. By May 12, 1861, the song was used as a flag-raising anthem at Fort Warren. On July 18th, Boston newspapers reported the Tiger Battalion singing the song while marching through the city's streets, and a rash of broadsides appeared, spreading the tune.
The song varied, as marching songs are wont to do, from place to place much like the hymn that inspired it. The basic model, however, was:
John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave; (3X)
He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord! (3X)
His soul's marching on!
(Chorus)
John Brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back! (3X)
His soul's marching on!
(Chorus)
His pet lambs will meet him on the way; (3X)
They go marching on!
(Chorus)
They will hang Jeff Davis to a sour apple tree! (3X)
As they march along!
(Chorus)
Now, three rousing cheers for the Union; (3X)
As we are marching on!
From the beginning, the song's somewhat irreverent lyrics caused discomfort to some listeners.
It may have been these concerns that caused William Weston Patton to write and publish his more lyrical version of the song, in December 1861 in the Chicago Tribune. These lyrics are follows:
Old John Brown’s body lies moldering in the grave,
While weep the sons of bondage whom he ventured all to save;
But tho he lost his life while struggling for the slave,
His soul is marching on.
(Chorus)
John Brown was a hero, undaunted, true and brave,
And Kansas knows his valor when he fought her rights to save;
Now, tho the grass grows green above his grave,
His soul is marching on.
(Chorus)
He captured Harper’s Ferry, with his nineteen men so few,
And frightened "Old Virginny" till she trembled thru and thru;
They hung him for a traitor, they themselves the traitor crew,
But his soul is marching on.
(Chorus)
John Brown was John the Baptist of the Christ we are to see,
Christ who of the bondmen shall the Liberator be,
And soon thruout the Sunny South the slaves shall all be free,
For his soul is marching on.
(Chorus)
The conflict that he heralded he looks from heaven to view,
On the army of the Union with its flag red, white and blue.
And heaven shall ring with anthems o’er the deed they mean to do,
For his soul is marching on.
(Chorus)
Ye soldiers of Freedom, then strike, while strike ye may,
The death blow of oppression in a better time and way,
For the dawn of old John Brown has brightened into day,
And his soul is marching on.
(Chorus)
The following rendition features the lyrics of the re-write.
Pete Seeger sings a hodge-podge of the original song, the more lyrical re-write, and the later Battle Hymn of the Republic.
Various adaptations were made of the new song. These included The Marching Song of the First of Arkansas and the very similar song, "The Valiant Soldiers", both celebrating black Union soldiers during the war and Reconstruction. The most famous, however, is the one written by the poet and abolitionist Julia Ward Howe, entitled "Battle Hymn of the Republic". Howe, who later in her life would be a pacifist and a suffragette, wrote the song after viewing a public review of the war-bound troops in Upton Hill Virginia, outside of Washington, DC. She was in the area with her husband to visit the White House and meet President Lincoln. The couple's friend, the Unitarian abolitionist minister James Freeman Clarke, suggested that she write new and improved lyrics to the rough song.
"I went to bed that night as usual, and slept, according to my wont,
quite soundly. I awoke in the gray of the morning twilight; and as I lay
waiting for the dawn, the long lines of the desired poem began to twine
themselves in my mind. Having thought out all the stanzas, I said to
myself, 'I must get up and write these verses down, lest I fall asleep
again and forget them.' So, with a sudden effort, I sprang out of bed,
and found in the dimness an old stump of a pen which I remembered to
have used the day before. I scrawled the verses almost without looking
at the paper."
The lyrics that she wrote are as follows, with the video showing the folk singer Odetta's powerful, reverential rendition.
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword:
His truth is marching on.
(Chorus)
I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps,
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps:
His day is marching on.
(Chorus)
I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel:
"As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,
Since God is marching on.
(Chorus)
He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat:
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.
(Chorus)
In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me.
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.
(Chorus)
He is coming like the glory of the morning on the wave,
He is Wisdom to the mighty, He is Succour to the brave,
So the world shall be His footstool, and the soul of Time His slave,
Our God is marching on.
(Chorus)
As with previous iterations of the tune, this version spawned new songs of its own. The US paratroopers adapted the song with the characteristic gallows humor of the military, in their song, Blood on the Risers.
Ralph Chaplin designed the IWW "Sabot Cat"
Finally, it bears mentioning the adaptation that turned the song from an anthem for the Union army to an anthem for labor unions. Solidarity Forever was written by Ralph Chaplin in 1915, inspired in part by his years of organizing in the coal country of West Virginia. The song was adopted by the Industrial Workers of the World (or "Wobblies"), which Chaplin joined and spent the rest of his life in, including being imprisoned under the Espionage Act for IWW opposition to the First World War. Solidarity Forever spread beyond the IWW to other unions, including the AFL-CIO, and now one of the foremost union anthems in the United States.
A somewhat less inspiring attempt to adapt the song into a message on economic justice is the Battle Hymn of Cooperation. Somehow, "consumers marching on" fails to rouse the spirit. As a personal anecdote, I once witnessed yet another 'rendition' arise in St. Cloud, MN in the early 2000s, when my incessant singing of "Solidarity Forever" and touting the merits of the IWW lead several members of a local punk band to sing "Union, union union uuuuunion"to the song's tune. This, of course, vexed my own union-talk-weary bandmates greatly.
The following is Pete Seeger's rendition of Solidarity Forever.
When the union's inspiration through the workers' blood shall run,
There can be no power greater anywhere beneath the sun;
Yet what force on earth is weaker than the feeble strength of one,
But the union makes us strong.
CHORUS:
Solidarity forever,
Solidarity forever,
Solidarity forever,
For the union makes us strong.
Is there aught we hold in common with the greedy parasite,
Who would lash us into serfdom and would crush us with his might?
Is there anything left to us but to organize and fight?
For the union makes us strong.
Chorus
It is we who plowed the prairies; built the cities where they trade;
Dug the mines and built the workshops, endless miles of railroad laid;
Now we stand outcast and starving midst the wonders we have made;
But the union makes us strong.
Chorus
All the world that's owned by idle drones is ours and ours alone.
We have laid the wide foundations; built it skyward stone by stone.
It is ours, not to slave in, but to master and to own.
While the union makes us strong.
Chorus
They have taken untold millions that they never toiled to earn,
But without our brain and muscle not a single wheel can turn.
We can break their haughty power, gain our freedom when we learn
That the union makes us strong.
Chorus
In our hands is placed a power greater than their hoarded gold,
Greater than the might of armies, magnified a thousand-fold.
We can bring to birth a new world from the ashes of the old
Welcome back to Folk Infusion! Today's a Friday- across the city and in towns all over the world, they're rolling out the kegs and hauling up the bottles for the kick-off to the weekend. In that spirit, today's post is a great personal favorite of mine suited for the occasion. John Barleycorn is a traditional English ballad in which barley is personified and murdered to create alcohol- either beer or whiskey, depending on the interpretation. In the song, the various stages of barley cultivation, harvesting, and processing are represented as acts of violence on the personified grain.
Printed renditions can be found as far back as the 16th century, and various versions can be found across the British Isles, from 17th-century English broadsides to Robert Burns' 1782 edition. The themes of the song bear similarity to Quhy Sowld Nicht Alane Honorit Be (Why Should Allane Not Be Honored), a 15-16th century Scots poem which personifies ale in a like manner.
It is likely that the family of related barley-personifying songs trace their origin back to Scotland prior to the mid-16th century, with the song Alan-a-Maut. The name John Barleycorn for this personification was first noted in the 1624 London broadside "A Pleasant new Ballad. To be sung evening and morn, of the bloody murder of Sir John Barleycorn", which also sets forth some of the elements of John Barleycorn- men (or knights) swearing to slay him, rain and sun, his beard, and the milling. Other broadsides appeared after this called The Little Barleycorne and Mas Mault, though these were more concerned with alcohol's effects than its manufacturing. The first versions of what is now known as John Barleycorn can be traced to three versions collected in Great Britain between 1750 and 1775, two from Scotland and one from the London area. A diversity of broadsides and versions have emerged since then, mostly following two basic strains.
In addition the obligatory link to my own rendition, I have chosen the 1970 arrangement of the song by Traffic.
The following arrangement of this version is sung more as a chant.
The lyrics of this version are as follows:
There were three men came out of the West
Their fortunes for to try
And these three men made a solemn vow
John Barleycorn must die
They've ploughed, they've sewn, they've harrowed him in
Threw clouds upon his head
And these three men made a solemn vow
John Barleycorn was dead
They've let him lie for a very long time
Till the rains from heaven did fall
And little Sir John sprung up his head
And so amazed them all
They've let him stand till midsummer's day
Till he looked both pale and wan
And little Sir John's grown a long, long beard
And so become a man
They've hired men with the scythes so sharp
To cut him off at the knee
They've rolled him and tied him by the way
Serving him most barbarously
They've hired men with the sharp pitchforks
Who pricked him to the heart
And the loader he has served him worse than that
For he's bound him to the cart
They've wheeled him around and around the field
Till they came unto a barn
And there they made a solemn oath
On poor John Barleycorn
They've hired men with the crab-tree sticks
To cut him skin from bone
And the miller he has served him worse than that
For he's ground him between two stones
And little Sir John and the nut-brown bowl
And he's brandy in the glass
And little Sir John and the nut-brown bowl
Proved the strongest man at last
The huntsman, he can't hunt the fox
Nor so loudly to blow his horn
And the tinker he can't mend kettle nor pot
Without a little Barleycorn
The second strain worth noting is an Irish version which is rarer, faster tempo, and lyrically related more closely to "A Pleasant Ballad", containing the line, "Some of them said drown him and the others said hang him high, for whoever sticks to the barley grain, a beggin he will die", which survived in no other versions.
The lyrics of this version are as follows:
There were three farmers in the north, as they were passing by
they swore an oath so mighty oh that Barleycorn should die
one of them said: drown him and the other sad: hang him high
for whoever will stick to Barleycorn a-begging he will die
They put poor Barley into a sack an a cold an rainy day
and took him out to cornfields and buried him in the clay
frost and snow began to melt and dew began to fall
when Barleygrain put up his head and he soon surprised them all
Being in the summer season and the harvest coming on
it's the time he stands up in the field with a beard like any man
the farmer came with his pitch fork and he pierced me to the heart
like a thief, a rogue or a highwayman they tied me to the cart
And next thing that they've done to me they dried me in a kiln
they used me ten times worse, than that they ground me in the mill
they used me in the kichen, they used me in the hall
oh they used me in the parlour among the ladies all
Ahe Barleygrain is a comical grain, it makes men sigh and moan
for when they drink a glass or two they forget their wives and home
the drunkard is a dirty man, he used me worst of all
he drank me up in his dirty mouth and he piss me 'gainst the wall
There were three farmers in the North and as they were passing by
They swore an oath, a mighty oath that John Barleycorn must die
One of them says we'll drown him and the other says hang him high
A whiff of the stick of the barley grain and a-beggin we will die
With me fal-er-a-lind-a-me too-ra-lunda-me whack-fal-diddle-di-ay
Today's song is Jordan Is A Hard Road to Travel, a folk standard with a huge variety of interesting derivations and a... questionable history.
The song was first composed in 1853 by the blackface minstrel Dan Emmett. Daniel Decatur Emmett was one of the 'pioneers', so to speak, of the minstrel tradition, founding the first all-blackface troupe and beginning the minstrel show as a main event rather than a part of a larger performance. Dan Emmett is also known for writing the song "Dixie", which became a Confederate anthem.
Dan Emmett in blackface
The blackface tradition marks an ugly time in American folk music history, when crudely caricatured stereotypes of African-Americans were used for comedic entertainment. The character rose to prominence in a theatrical climate where stereotyped, over-the-top stock characters representing various ethnicities and social classes was the norm. The representation of the 'Jim Crow' blackface character was as a buffoonish, lazy, superstitious, cowardly, and lascivious character. Black people were often portrayed as pathological criminals and thieves. Lines were typically delivered in heavily mangled imitations of the black vernacular.
The portrayal of black women, typically by white men who were both wearing blackface and cross-dressing, presented black women as either grotesquely unattractive or, conversely, highly sexualized.
The blackface tradition deserves careful and critical examination of its full role as a force of cultural appropriation, mockery, and dissemination, including its development and continuing impacts. Unfortunately, this blog is not the proper forum for such a necessarily sensitive and in-depth investigation at this time, as our purpose in this post is to explore the individual song and its derivatives. Therefore, for the time being, I encourage readers interested in the history of blackface to seek out existing works that treat on the issue, and remind all readers that blackface is considered very hurtful and highly offensive. This blog does not endorse or encourage the use of blackface, and cautions anybody from attempting it in any circumstances.
It is worth noting that although Jordan is a Hard Road to Travel is indeed a song originated in blackface minstrely, it has since entered into the collection of general folk songs, and in its modern rendition does not generally carry the racist connotations, intent, and mockery that typify the blackface tradition. Rather than being a mimicking song meant to evoke stereotypes of a clownish black person, it is now sung earnestly and unironically by bluegrass and folk musicians. Indeed, the original lyrics of Dan Emmett's version (which, by all accounts, was a modular and ever-changing collection of verses) are largely forgotten, being replaced for most musicians by the lyrics written by Uncle Dave Macon. Macon, who recorded the song in 1927, used words that had an anti-automobile message- perhaps influenced by Macon's former employment as a horse-and-buggy driver and goods hauler.
For Uncle David Macon's lyrics, see the following arrangement by Norman and Nancy Blake.
1. I'm gonna sing you a brand new song,
It's all the truth for certain;
We cain't live high, but we can get by,
And get on the other side of Jordan.
Chorus: Oh, pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeves,
Jordan's a hard road to travel;
Oh, pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeves,
Oh, Jordan is a hard road to travel, I believe.
2. The public schools and the highways
Are raisin' quite an alarm;
Get a country man educated just a little,
And he ain't a-gonna work on the farm.
3. I don't know, but I b'lieve I'm right,
The auto's ruined the country;
Let's go back to the horse and buggy,
And try to save some money.
4. I know a man that's an evangelist,
His tabernacle's always full;
People come from miles around
Just to hear him shoot the bull.
5. You may talk about your evangelist,
You may talk about Mister Ford too;
Well, Henry's shakin' more hell out of folks Than all the evangelists
do.
6. Rain forty nights, gonna rain forty days,
Gonna rain on the Allegheny mountains;
Gonna rain forty horses and dominicker mules,
Gonna take us on the other side of Jordan.
The original lyrics, as mentioned earlier, were variable. An example of an early, minstrel show version of the song might go something like this:
Around the Crystal Palace there are a great many shows, Where all the country green horns are drawn in-- There're snakes and alligators, mammouth mules and big 'taters, That were raised upon the other side of Jordan.
Chorus:
Pull up your overcoat and roll up your sleeve
Jordan am a hard road to travel
pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve
Jordan am a hard road to travel I believe
The sovereign of the seas, she went to Liverpool, In less than fourteen days, too, according, Johnny Bull he wiped his eyes, and looked with surprise, At this clipper from the Yankee side of Jordan.
The ladies of England have sent a big address About slavery, and all its horrors, according, They had better look at home, to their own white slaves, That are starving on the English side of Jordan.
They have got o bearded lady down at Barnum's show, And lots of pictures outside, according, She's going to take her eye-lashes for a pair of mustaches, For to trabble on the other side of Jordan.
The Duchess of Southerland, she keeps the Stafford House, The place where the "Black Swan" is boarding; At a musical party, they asked for a song, And she gave them--On the other side of Jordan.
Our great father, Washington, he was a mighty man, And all the Yankees do their fighting according, They will raise the flag of freedom whereever they can, Till they plant it on the other side of Jordan.
There are two derivatives that bear mentioning off of Jordan Is A Hard Road to Travel- the first is a New York ballad called the "Dead Rabbit Song", and the second is a Union army marching song called "Richmond Is a Hard Road to Travel"
Dead Rabbits in Scorcese's film, "Gangs of New York"
Readers might recognize the name "Dead Rabbits" from Martin Scorcese's film, The Gangs of New York. While the film did have some historical inaccuracies as is to be expected of Hollywood, it is true that the Dead Rabbits were a largely Irish-American gang in the Five Points area of New York. The Dead Rabbit uniform was a red stripe on the leg of their pants, a
counterpoint to the Roach Guard blue stripe. When engaged in riots and
street fights, their emblem was a slain rabbit impaled on a spike. The name may have come from the Gaelic "Raibead", meaning 'great, hulking person', appended with 'Dead', slang for 'very'- thus, the Dead Rabbits were "very big people". Its leaders included such figure as Aidan Bourke, 'The Black Dog', perhaps named after the mythological black dogs and Cu-Sidhe hounds of the British Isle, thought to be portents of death.
Also called the Black Birds, the Dead Rabbits were originally part of the Roach Guards, an Irish Five Points gang started in the early 19th century to protect liquor merchants. The Dead Rabbits broke off of the Roach Guards, and the two gangs swore a bitter rivalry against each other, engaging in near-constant fighting over the Five Points. Elsewhere, however, they united with the Roach Guards and other Irish gangs such as the Shirt Tails and Chichesters to fight the Bowery Boys.
The Bowery Boys were a nativist, anti-Irish, and anti-Catholic gang . Their base of operations, as their name implies, was the Bowery north of the Five Points. As depicted in Scorcese's film, the Bowery Boys frequently dressed in dressed in black stovepipe hats, red shirts, black flared trousers, high-heeled calfskin boots and black vests, with oil-slicked hair.
Anti-Catholic cartoon from the 1800s. Note the Bishop-gators.
The Bowery Boys were a nativist, anti-Irish, and anti-Catholic gang .
Their base of operations, as their name implies, was the Bowery north of
the Five Points. As depicted in Scorcese's film, the Bowery Boys
frequently dressed in dressed in black stovepipe hats, red shirts, black
flared trousers, high-heeled calfskin boots and black vests, with
oil-slicked hair. Famous members of the Bowery Boys included William "Bill the Butcher" Poole (sometimes referred to instead as the leader of the Atlantic Guards, an allied gang), and the gang's leader, Mose the Fireboy.
The gang and ethnic rivalry was closely tied to the rivalry within the Democratic Party political machine that operated in New York City. This rivalry pitted supporters of Tammany Hall and Mayor Fernando Wood against those in opposition to his administration. The Dead Rabbits were aligned with Wood, while the Bowery Boys opposed him and allied themselves with the Democratic opposition, the nativist Know-Nothing Party (or "American Party"), and with state Republicans who sought to strip Wood of certain powers by handing jurisdiction to a number of issues over to the state. These plans included the replacement of the Municipal Police Department with a state-managed Metropolitan Police Department. While legislation was passed that created the Metropolitan Police, Wood refused to disband the Municipal Police. The first half of 1857, therefor, saw running street battles between the two departments and each side's supporting gangs despite a court order that the city disband the Municipal police by July.
On July 4th, this conflict came to a head at the Dead Rabbits Riot. The Dead Rabbits had planned to raid a Bowery Boys clubhouse that day, and marched towards the place with a coalition of Five Points street gangs. The Bowery gangs met this assault at the clubhouse. Heavy fighting ensued, and the Bowery gangs eventually drove the Five Point gangs back to Paradise Square after heavy street fighting, with conflicts in Pearl, Chatham Streets, and the north part of Park Row.
The Dead Rabbits Riot
The next day, the Dead Rabbits struck again, attacking the Green Dragon on Broome Street, a Bowery Boys joint. Catching the Bowery Boys by surprise, the Rabbits wrecked the bar, tore up the dance floor, and drank or absconded with all the alcohol. The incensed Bowery Boys called on the other Bowery gangs to repel the Five Pointers, and heavy fighting ensued at Bayard Street, quickly growing to become the largest gang battle in the city's history. An attempt by a Metropolian police officer to arrest the leaders of the fight was met with the officer being stripped and beaten by the gangs. This officer returned to the precinct to request aid. Around mid-day, a squad of Metropolitan police to make arrests. Their presence, however, briefly united the gangs, who climbed into the roof tops and rained bricks down on the police to secure the release of captured gang members. The police retreated, prompting a short truce between the gangs.
This truce was broken mere hours later, when a group of Dead Rabbits, prompted by Five Points women, attacked the Bowery gangs at The Tombs. The renewed fighting so occupied the police force, that other gangs and criminals took advantage of the chaos to commit crimes and carry on fights elsewhere in the city. This grew the fight, which involved some 800-1000 gang members, into a larger riot involving hundreds of others who opportunistically looted the Bowery.
By the afternoon, the Metropolitan police came back in greater force. This time, they were able to briefly clear the streets, arresting large numbers of men including some gang leaders. At about this time, a degree of collusion began between the Bowery Boys and Metropolitans, both focusing on the Dead Rabbits. The police surge briefly quieted the streets, but fighting resumed almost immediately, and further attempts by the police to penetrate the riot proved unsuccessful. By the evening, the underworld-connected political boss of the Sixth Ward, Isaiah Ryders, was called in by the police to address the crowd and ask them to stop fighting. This effort failed, as Ryders was driven away by stones and bricks. At this point, with fires burning in the city and no end in sight to the violence, the police made the decision to call in the military. By 9:00 pm, two local regiments of the New York National Guard accompanied by 150 Metropolitan police swept through the riot area. This show of force managed to quell the riot, and police and guardsmen patrolled the area heavily for the next day.
This was the largest New York riot since the Astor Place Riot in 1849 and would be unsurpassed until the Draft Riots of 1863- all three of these incidents largely involving working class Irish-American immigrants and stemming from issues of class, ethnicity, and policy. The two day Dead Rabbits Riot left at least eight men dead and some 30-100 injured. The real casualty count may be higher, as many of those killed are believed to have been carried off to secret burial by their gang-mates.
The Dead Rabbits Song was a ballad recounting the riot. The song was written by Henry Seamus Backus, known as the Saugerties Bard. Backus was a former Saugerties music teacher who had turned to heavy drinking after the deaths of his daughter, mother, and wife. He had spent time in an insane asylum, mad with liquor and religion, for part of the late 1840s before returning to Saugerties to write store jingles and popular songs. An eccentric figure, Backus reportedly traveled in a broken-down wagon decked in bells and American flags, often accompanied by a grand procession of barking dogs. He would travel from town to town, playing popular tunes, singing his new lyrics, and selling broadsides.
Chorus Then pull off the coat and roll up the sleeve, For Bayard is a hard street to travel; So pull off the coat and roll up the sleeve, The Bloody Sixth is a hard ward to travel I believe.
Like wild dogs they did fight, this Fourth of July night, Of course they laid their plans accordin'; Some were wounded and some killed, and lots of blood spill'd, In the fight on the other side of Jordan.
Chorus The new Police did join the Bowery boys in line, With orders strict and right accordin; Bullets, clubs and bricks did fly, and many groan and die, Hard road to travel over Jordan.
Chorus When the new police did interfere, this made the Rabbits sneer, And very much enraged them accordin'; With bricks they did go in, determined for to win, And drive them on the other side of Jordan.
Chorus Upon the following day they had another fray, The Black Birds and Dead Rabbits accordin; The soldiers were call'd out, to quell the mighty riot, And drove them on the other side of Jordan.
Another variation of Jordan is a Hard Road to Travel worth noting is "Richmond Is a Hard Road to Travel", a version composed by Union soldiers fighting in Virginia during the first two years of the Civil War. The song recounts the difficulties the army had in its attempts to capture the Confederate capitol at Richmond. The song can be found here, arranged here by the 2nd South Carolina String Band.
The song unusually long, telling in essence the whole course of early part of the war.
Would you like to hear my song? I'm afraid it's rather long
Of the famous "On to Richmond" double trouble,
Of the half-a-dozen trips and half-a-dozen slips
And the very latest bursting of the bubble.
'Tis pretty hard to sing and like a round, round ring
'Tis a dreadful knotty puzzle to unravel;
Though all the papers swore, when we touched Virginia's shore
That Richmond was a hard road to travel.
Then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve,
Richmond is a hard road to travel
Then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve
Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe.
First, McDowell, bold and gay, set forth the shortest way,
By Manassas in the pleasant summer weather,
But unfortunately ran on a Stonewall, foolish man,
And had a "rocky journey" altogether;
And he found it rather hard to ride o'er Beauregard,
