Origins: Llandaff

Subject: RE: Origins: Llandaff
From: GUEST
Date: 21 Mar 06 - 11:45 AM

refresh

Subject: RE: Origins: Llandaff
From: GUEST,John Smith
Date: 19 Mar 06 - 04:21 PM

Oh, bugger! For "Island", read "Ireland".

Subject: RE: Origins: Llandaff
From: GUEST,John Smith
Date: 19 Mar 06 - 04:18 PM

I think you might find the Cardiff one to be very like the Irish ones. And how come you keep referring to The North Of Ireland when the BBC says Northern Island?

Subject: RE: Llandaff
From: GUEST,Dr Price
Date: 18 Mar 06 - 08:14 AM

There are versions from:

1) Cardiff, where I heard a woman singing it in the Ship And Pilot;
2) The North Of Ireland, (Brian Mullen and many versions);
3) Frank Kidson, via Len and Barbara of the Portway Peddlers (I think his collected version came from the region around the upper Thames.)

Llandaff is a great song, indeed - I think I know what you mean, Frank!

Subject: RE: Llandaff
From: GUEST
Date: 18 Mar 06 - 07:59 AM

That's a mighty song, and a funny one too. You say there are versions from Cardiff, Ireland and from Southern England, but we didn't here of it. I'm interested.

Subject: RE: Llandaff
From: GUEST,Dr Price
Date: 16 Mar 06 - 10:08 AM

No, Sian and Snuffy - the tune is 3/4, but it's not Cadair Idris nor the Morris dance Sweet Jenny Jones. How do you describe a tune? Some day, I'll get to grips with my Sibelius!

Subject: RE: Llandaff
From: Snuffy
Date: 16 Mar 06 - 08:48 AM

If so, then she may have been called Jones and the first line could well have been: "I come from Llangollen, ..." which would be a journey "half o'er the Welsh mountains", whereas Llandaff was only a twopenny bus-ride away. :-)

Subject: RE: Llandaff
From: sian, west wales
Date: 16 Mar 06 - 06:49 AM

Presumably sung on the Air, 'Cadair Idris'?

siân

Subject: RE: Llandaff
From: GUEST,Dr Price
Date: 16 Mar 06 - 06:23 AM

Addendum: Barbara and Len of The Portway Peddlers showed me a song, collected by Frank Kidson (I think) called Dan Lartigan - it's the same gist to a story.

Subject: Llandaff
From: GUEST,Dr Price
Date: 16 Mar 06 - 05:52 AM

Frank Hennessey, of BBC Wales' Celtic Heartbeat, brought up the question of the Cardiff song "Llandaff" (as in Llandaff Cathedral, just on the outskirts of Cardiff) recently. He played a track by the Irish group Cran, called "Laugh And Half Daft," which is "Llandaff" going though the folk process. I remember the North Of Ireland singer Brian Mullen singing "Llandaff" ages ago, when he said he got from an Ulster woman singer whose name I can't remember.

I was in The Ship And Pilot in Butetown, Cardiff, which the regulars all fondly called The Six Tits, on behalf of the three sisters who used to own the pub. The Six Tits' culture was half Cardiff, half Irish - in the last century, hundreds of Irishmen had emigrated to Cardiff to build Cardiff Docks. I heard a Irish woman singing "Llandaff", although I was too immersed in South Wales songs to give it much attention. Here are the words:


"I come down from Llandaff, half o'er the Welsh mountains
Where the leeks and the violets and the nanny goats dwell
I come down in search of a fair gentle maiden
But where she's gone to, I'm sure I can't tell.

CHORUS: I'll weep and I'll wander o'er hills and o'er mountains
       In search of my Jenny, oh where can she be?
       I'll weep and I'll wander o'er hills and o'er mountains
       In search of my Jenny, oh where can she be?

She's the pride of her gender, her waist it is slender
Her hair is magenta and she squints with one eye
She talks like a parson, she sings like a nightingale
And if I don't find her I'm sure I will die.

The house of her parents is highly respected
Her mother milks cows on the three-legged stool
Her father's a farmer, her aunt is a lady
Her uncle's a rogue and her brother's a fool.

I courted my Jenny, I told her I loved her
We were to be married upon the May morn
But there came a bold soldier from the Royal Artillery
And on the next morning my Jenny was gone.

I searched for my Jenny, I promised I'd find her,
I went though the cupboards, I looked under the stair,
I read through the papers, I looked up the chimney,
But the sorrowful story: I found her nowhere.

Oh say, have you seen her, to you I'll describe her,
She wears a red petticoat and a cap on her head
She moves when she's walking, she speaks when she's talking
And her linen's marked P, Q, R, X, Y and Z.

She's gone with her soldier and I'll never find her,
Farewell to you, Jenny, wherever you be
No more will I wander o'er hills and o'er mountains
Farewell to you, Jenny, now goodbye to thee."

Can someone shed some light on this?

Mick Tems