1921        Terry, Richard Runciman. _The Shanty Book, Part I._ London: J. Curwen & Sons.

As Bradford & Fagge's short set was the score to the earliest commercial chanty recordings, Terry's collection went on to become a main source for chanties during the 1920s commercial/mainstream shanty boom. Terry had his feet in the world of "legitimate" classical music performances; he was known in that world. And perhaps that is why his work was adopted over Sharp's. (Sharp's would be used by the folklore-oriented Revival performers.) Bullen's work, at least directly speaking, was ignored by performers. As noted earlier, however, my personal suspicions are that many of Terry's forms (most aside from those that were unique to his "Tyneside" collecting experiences) were composite, "ideal" that he created in part through referencing the major collections that preceded him (i.e. like Hugill). He justified this by citing his general familiarity with chanties that came from growing up around sailor relatives. His creations, as performance models, may be "good enough," so far as performances are expected to vary. But I am cautious of using them uncritically as evidence for historical scholarship on chanties.

From the Foreword by Sir Walter Runciman, praising Terry's a a unique new collection of someone who has the life experience to match musical skill, and validating the musical forms. Also notes shanties as part of [British] "folk-music".
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Whatever landsmen may think about shanty words—with their cheerful inconsequence, or light-hearted coarseness—there can be no two opinions about the tunes, which, as folk-music, are a national asset.
I know, of course, that several shanty collections are in the market, but as a sailor I am bound to say that only one—Capt. W.B. Whall's 'Sea Songs, Ships, and Shanties'—can be regarded as authoritative. Only a portion of Capt. Whall's delightful book is devoted to shanties, of which he prints the melodies only (without accompaniment); and of these he does not profess to give more than those he himself learnt at sea. I am glad, therefore, to welcome Messrs. Curwen's project of a wide and representative collection. Dr. Terry's qualifications as editor are exceptional, since he was reared in an environment of nineteenth-century seamen, and is the only landsman I have met who is able to render shanties as the old seamen did. I am not musician enough to criticize his pianoforte accompaniments, but I can vouch for the authenticity of the melodies as he presents them, untampered with in any way.
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Most of the introductory/background material comes from Terry's articles in Music & Letters (reproduced verbatim), and I will not repeat it.

More claiming of experience:

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It may reasonably be asked by what authority a mere landsman publishes a book on a nautical subject. I may, therefore, plead in extenuation that I have all my life been closely connected with seafaring matters, especially during childhood and youth, and have literally 'grown up with' shanties. My maternal ancestors followed the sea as far back as the family history can be traced, and sailor uncles and grand-uncles have sung shanties to me from my childhood upwards. During boyhood I was constantly about amongst ships, and had learnt at first hand all the popular shanties before any collection of them appeared in print. I have in later years collected them from all manner of sailors, chiefly at Northumbrian sources. I have collated these later versions with those which I learnt at first hand as a boy from sailor relatives, and also aboard ship. And lastly, I lived for some years in the West Indies, one of the few remaining spots where shanties may still be heard, where my chief recreation was cruising round the islands in my little ketch. In addition to hearing them in West Indian seaports, aboard Yankee sailing ships and sugar droghers, I also heard them sung constantly on shore in Antigua under rather curious conditions. West Indian negro shanties are movable wooden huts,…
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And on etymology and spelling again. He says that shanties were English, in contradistinction to French, but with his "hut" theory of etymology vaguely implies he believes shanty origins to lie in the Caribbean.
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…The 'literary' sailors, Clark Russell and Frank Bullen, have also spelt it 'chanty,' but their reason is obvious. The modest seaman always bowed before the landsman's presumed superiority in 'book-larnin'.' What more natural than that Russell and Bullen, obsessed by so ancient a tradition, should accept uncritically the landsman's spelling. But educated sailors devoid of 'literary' pretensions have always written the word as it was pronounced. To my mind the strongest argument against the literary landsman's derivation of the word is that the British sailor cultivated the supremest contempt for everything French, and would be the last person to label such a definitely British practice as shanty-singing with a French title. If there had been such a thing in French ships as a labour-song bearing such a far-fetched title as (un) chanté, there might have been a remote possibility of the British sailor adopting the French term in a spirit of sport or derision, but there is no evidence that any such practice, or any such term, achieved any vogue in French ships. As a matter of fact, the Oxford Dictionary (which prints it 'shanty') states that the word never found its way into print until 1869…
If I wished to advance another theory more plausible still, and equally unconvincing, I might urge that the word was derived from the negro hut-removals already mentioned. Here, at least, we have a very ancient custom, which would be familiar to British seamen visiting West Indian seaports. The object moved was a shanty; the music accompanying the operation was called, by the negroes, a shanty tune; its musical form (solo and chorus) was identical with the sailor shanty; the pulls on the rope followed the same method which obtained at sea; the soloist was called a shantyman; like the shantyman at sea he did no work, but merely extemporized verses to which the workers at the ropes supplied the chorus; and finally, the negroes still pronounce the word itself exactly as the seaman did.
I am quite aware of the flaws in the above argument, but at least it shows a manual labour act performed both afloat and ashore under precisely similar conditions as to (a) its nature, (b) its musical setting; called by the same name, with the same pronunciation in each case; and lastly, connected, in one case, with an actual hut or shanty. Against this concrete argument we have a landsman's abstract speculation, which (a) begs the whole question, and (b) which was never heard of until a few years before the disappearance of the sailing ship. I do not assert that the negroid derivation is conclusive, but that from (un) chanté will not bear serious inspection.
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More bibliographic notes:
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…Of all these collections Capt. Whall's is the only one which a sailor could accept as authoritative. Capt. Whall unfortunately only gives the twenty-eight shanties which he himself learnt at sea. But to any one who has heard them sung aboard the old sailing ships, his versions ring true, and have a bite and a snap that is lacking in those published by mere collectors.
Davis and Tozer's book has had a great vogue, as it was for many years the only one on the market. But the statement that the music is 'composed and arranged on traditional sailor airs' rules it out of court in the eyes of seamen, since (a) a sailor song is not a shanty, and (b) to 'compose and arrange on traditional airs' is to destroy the traditional form.
Bullen and Arnold's book ought to have been a valuable contribution to shanty literature, as Bullen certainly knew his shanties, and used to sing them capitally. Unfortunately his musical collaborator does not appear to have been gifted with the faculty of taking down authentic versions from his singing. He seems to have had difficulty in differentiating between long measured notes and unmeasured pauses; between the respective meanings of three-four and six-eight time; between modal and modern tunes; and between the cases where irregular barring was or was not required. …
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Method of presentation. He is respecting unique variants – when it comes to melodies, not lyrics. Bowdlerie lyrics.
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As regards the tunes, I have adhered to the principle of giving each one as it was sung by some individual singer. This method has not been applied to the words. Consequently the verses of any given shanty may have derived from any number of singers. Since there was no connection or relevancy between the different verses of a shanty, the only principle I have adhered to is that whatever verses are set down should have been sung to me at some time or other by some sailor or other.
Of course I have had to camouflage many unprintable expressions, and old sailors will readily recognize where this has been done. Sometimes a whole verse (after the first line) has needed camouflage, and the method adopted is best expressed as follows:

There was a young lady of Gloucester
Who couldn't eat salt with her egg,
And when she sat down
She could never get up,
And so the poor dog had none.


Personal sources/thanks:
//
Amongst those to whom I owe thanks, I must number the Editors of The Music Student and Music and Letters, for allowing me to incorporate in this Preface portions of articles which I have written for them. Also to Capt. W.J. Dowdy, both for singing shanties to me himself, and affording me facilities for interviewing inmates of the Royal Albert Institution, over which he presides. I also wish to express my gratitude to those sailors who have in recent years sung shanties to me, especially Capt. R.W. Robertson, Mr. Geo. Vickers, Mr. Richard Allen, of Seahouses, and Mr. F.B. Mayoss. And last, but not least, to Mr. Morley Roberts, who has not only sung shanties to me, but has also given me the benefit of his ripe nautical experience.
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[[Windlass and Capstan Shanties:]]

[BILLY BOY] As in 1920, with 2 verses added.
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1. Billy Boy

This is undoubtedly a coast song 'made into a shanty.' I heard it in Northumberland, both on shore and in ships, when I was a boy. …The version of line 1, page 3, bars 2 and 3, is older than the one given in my arrangement for male-voice chorus (Curwen Edition 50572), so, upon consideration, I decided to give it here. There are many more verses, but they are not printable, nor do they readily lend themselves to camouflage. The tune has not appeared in print until now.

1. Where hev ye been äal the day,
Billy Boy, Billy Boy?

Where hev ye been äal the day, me Billy Boy?

I've been walkin' äal the day
With me charmin' Nancy Grey,

And me Nancy kittl'd me fancy

Oh me charmin' Billy Boy.

2. Is she fit to be yor wife
Billy Boy, Billy Boy?

Is she fit to be yor wife, me Billy Boy?

She's as fit to be me wife
As the fork is to the knife

And me Nancy, etc.



3. Can she cook a bit o' steak
Billy Boy, Billy Boy?

Can she cook a bit o' steak, me Billy Boy?

She can cook a bit o' steak,
Aye, and myek a gairdle cake

And me Nancy, etc.



4. Can she myek an Irish Stew
Billy Boy, Billy Boy?

Can she myek an Irish Stew, me Billy Boy?

She can myek an Irish Stew
Aye, and "Singin' Hinnies" too.

And me Nancy, etc.
//

[RIO GRANDE] learned from an uncle. Looks like a composite.
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2. Bound for the Rio Grande

The variants of this noble tune are legion. But this version, which a sailor uncle taught me, has been selected, as I think it the most beautiful of all. I used to notice, even as a boy, how it seemed to inspire the shantyman to sentimental flights of Heimweh that at times came perilously near poetry.

1. I'll sing you a song of the fish of the sea.

Oh Rio.

I'll sing you a song of the fish of the sea

And we're bound for the Rio Grande.

Then away love, away,
'Way down Rio,

So fare ye well my pretty young gel.

For we're bound for the Rio Grande.

2. Sing good-bye to Sally, and good-bye to Sue,
And you who are listening, good-bye to you.

3. Our ship went sailing out over the Bar
And we pointed her nose for the South-er-en Star.

4. Farewell and adieu to you ladies of Spain
And we're all of us coming to see you again.


5. I said farewell to Kitty my dear,
And she waved her white hand as we passed the South Pier.

6. The oak, and the ash, and the bonny birk tree

They're all growing green in the North Countrie.
//

[GOODBYE FARE YOU WELL] As in 1920, with added verses.
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3. Good-bye, fare ye well

This is one of the best beloved of shanties. So strongly did its sentiment appeal to sailors that one never heard the shantyman extemporize a coarse verse to it.

1. I thought I heard the old man say

Good-bye, fare ye well,
Good-bye, fare ye well.

I thought I heard the old man say,

Hooray my boys we're homeward bound.

2. We're homeward bound, I hear the sound. (twice)
3. We sailed away to Mobile Bay. (twice)
4. But now we're bound for Portsmouth Town. (twice)
5. And soon we'll be ashore again. (twice)
6. I kissed my Kitty upon the pier
And it's oh to see you again my dear.
7. We're homeward bound, and I hear the sound. (twice)
//

[JOHNNY COME DOWN TO HILO] as in 1920, with added verses.
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4. Johnny come down to Hilo
This is clearly of negro origin. I learnt several variants of it, but for its present form I am indebted to Capt. W.J. Dowdy.

1. I nebber see de like since I bin born,

When a big buck nigger wid de sea boots on,

Says "Johnny come down to Hilo.
Poor old man."

Oh wake her, oh, shake her,
Oh wake dat gel wid de blue dress on,

When Johnny comes down to Hilo.
Poor old man.
2. I lub a little gel across de sea,

She's a Badian beauty and she sez to me,

"Oh Johnny," etc.
3. Oh was you ebber down in Mobile Bay

Where dey screws de cotton on a summer day?

When Johnny, etc.

4. Did you ebber see de ole Plantation Boss

And de long-tailed filly and de big black hoss?

When Johnny, etc.
5. I nebber seen de like since I bin born

When a big buck nigger wid de sea boots on,

Says "Johnny come down," etc.
//

[CLEAR THE TRACK] Learned "in boyhood".
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5. Clear the track, let the Bulgine run

The tune was a favourite in Yankee Packets. It does not appear in Whall. [It did appear in the 4th edition, however] 'Bullgine' was American negro slang for 'engine.' I picked up this version in boyhood from Blyth seamen.

1. Oh, the smartest clipper you can find.

Ah ho Way-oh, are you most done.

Is the Marget Evans of the Blue Cross Line.

So clear the track, let the Bullgine run.

Tibby Hey rig a jig in a jaunting car.

Ah ho Way-oh, are you most done.

With Lizer Lee all on my knee.

So clear the track, let the Bullgine run.


2. Oh the Marget Evans of the Blue Cross Line


She's never a day behind her time.

3. Oh the gels are walking on the pier


And I'll soon be home to you, my dear.

4. Oh when I come home across the sea,

It's Lizer you will marry me. 


5. Öh shake her, wake her, before we're gone;

Oh fetch that gel with the blue dress on.
6. Oh I thought I heard the skipper say

"We'll keep the brig three points away."

7. Oh the smartest clipper you can find


Is the Marget Evans of the Blue Cross Line.
//

[LOWLANDS AWAY] As in 1920, with added verses. From John Runciman.
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6. Lowlands away

…It was well known to every sailor down to the time of the China Clippers. My version is that of Capt. John Runciman, who belonged to that period. I have seldom found it known to sailors who took to the sea after the early seventies. The tune was sung in very free time and with great solemnity…. In North-country ships the shantyman used to make much of the theme of a dead lover appearing in the night. There were seldom any rhymes, and the air was indescribably touching when humoured by a good hand. A 'hoosier,' by the way, is a cotton stevedore. …

Lowlands, Lowlands,
Away my John,

Lowlands, away,
I heard them say,

My dollar and a half a day.



1. A dollar and a half a day is a Hoosier's pay.

Lowlands, Lowlands,
Away my John.

A dollar and a half a day is very good pay.

My dollar and a half a day.



2. Oh was you ever in Mobile Bay.

Screwing the cotton by the day.


3. All in the night my true love came,

All in the night my true love came.


4. She came to me all in my sleep. (twice)



5. And hër eyes were white my love. (twice)



6. And then I knew my love was dead. (twice)
//

[SALLY BROWN]
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7. Sally Brown

Although its musical form is that of a halliard shanty, it was always used for the capstan. I never heard it used for any other purpose than heaving the anchor. The large-sized notes [LA TI DO] given in the last bar are those which most sailors sing to me nowadays; the small ones [RE MI DO] are those which I most frequently heard when a boy.

1. Sally Brown she's a bright Mulatter.

Way Ay-y Roll and go.

She drinks rum and chews terbacker.

Spend my money on Sally Brown.

2. Sally Brown shë has a daughter

Sent me sailin' 'cross the water.



3. Seven long years Ï courted Sally. (twice)



4. Sally Brown I'm bound to leave you

Sally Brown I'll not deceive you.



5. Sally she's a 'Badian' beauty. (twice)



6. Sally lives on the old plantation

She belongs the Wild Goose Nation.



7. Sally Brown is a bright Mulatter

She drinks rum and chews terbacker.
//

[SANTIANA]
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8. Santy Anna

1. Oh Santy Anna won the day.

Way-Ah, me Santy Anna.

Oh Santy Anna won the day.

All on the plains of Mexico.
2. He beat the Prooshans fairly.
Way-Ah, etc.

And whacked the British nearly.
All on, etc.



3. He was a rorty gineral;

A rorty snorty gineral.



4. They took him out and shöt him.

Oh when shall we forgët him.



5. Oh Santy Anna won the day

And Gin'ral Taylor run away.
//

[SHENANDOAH] learned as a boy. As in 1920, with additional verses.
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9. Shenandoah

…This version (sung to me by Capt. Robertson) is almost, but not quite, identical with the one I learnt as a boy. …

1. Oh Shenandoah, I long to hear you.

Away you rolling river.

Oh Shenandoah, I long to hear you.

Away, I'm bound to go
'Cross the wide Missouri.

2. Oh Shenandoah, I love your daughter. (twice)



3. 'Tis seven long years since last I see thee. (twice)



4. Oh Shenandoah, I took a notion

To sail across the stormy ocean.



5. Oh Shenandoah, I'm bound to leave you.

Oh Shenandoah, I'll not deceive you.



6. Oh Shenandoah, I long to hear you. (twice)
//

[STORMY ALONG JOHN]
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10. Stormalong John

This is one of the many shanties with 'Stormy' as their hero. Whatever other verses were extemporized, those relating to digging his grave with a silver spade, and lowering him down with a golden chain, were rarely omitted. Other favourite verses were:
(a) I wish I was old Stormy's son.

(b) I'd build a ship a thousand ton.

1. Oh poor old Stormy's dead and gone.

Storm along boys,
Storm along.

Oh poor old Stormy's dead and gone.

Ah-ha, come along, get along,
Stormy along John.


2. I dug his grave with a silver spade. (twice)


3. I lower'd him down with a golden chain. (twice)


4. I carried him away to Mobile Bay. (twice)

5. Oh poor old Stormy's dead and gone. (twice)
//

[HOGEYE]
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11. The Hog's-eye Man

Of the numberless versions of this shanty I have chosen that of Capt. Robertson as being the most representative. Of the infinite number of verses to this fine tune hardly one is printable. There has been much speculation as to the origin of the title. As a boy my curiosity was piqued by reticence, evasion, or declarations of ignorance, whenever I asked the meaning of the term. It was only in later life that I learnt it from Mr. Morley Roberts. His explanation made it clear why every sailor called it either 'hog-eye' or 'hog's-eye,' and why only landsmen editors ever get the word wrong. …That is all the explanation I am at liberty to give in print.

1. Oh the hog's-eye man is the man for me,
He were raised way down in Tennessee.
Oh hog's eye, oh.
Row the boat ashore for the hog's-eye.
Steady on a jig with a hog's-eye oh,
She wants the hog's-eye man.
2. Oh who's been here while I've been gone?
Söme big buck nigger, with his sea boots on?[3]

3. Oh bring me down mÿ riding cane,
For I'm off to see my darling Jane.

4. Oh Jenny's in the garden a-picking peas,
And her golden hair's hanging down to her knees.
5. Oh a hog's-eye ship, and a hog's-eye crew,
And a hog's-eye mate, and a skipper too.
//

[HUCKLEBERRY HUNTING] from Capt. Jogn Runciman.
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12. The Wild Goose Shanty

…Allusions to 'The Wild Goose Nation' occur in many shanties, but I never obtained any clue to the meaning (if any) of the term. The verse about 'huckleberry hunting' was rarely omitted, but I never heard that particular theme further developed.

1. I'm the Shanty-man of the Wild Goose Nation.

Tibby Way-ay Hioha!

I've left my wife on a big plantation.

Hilo my Ranzo Hay!

2. Now a long farewell to the old plantation. (twice)



3. And a long farewell to the Wild Goose Nation. (twice)


4. Oh the boys and the girls went a huckleberry hunting. (twice)


5. Then good-bye and farewell yöu rolling river. (twice)



6. I'm the Shanty-man of the Wild Goose Nation.

I've left my wife on a big plantation.
//

[HEAVE AWAY MY JOHNNIES] as in 1920, with added verses.
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13. We're all bound to go

I used to hear this tune constantly on the Tyne. It is one of the few shanties which preserved a definite narrative, but each port seems to have offered variants on the names of the ships that were 'bound for Amerikee.' 'Mr. Tapscott' was the head of a famous line of emigrant ships. The last word in verse 5 was always pronounced male. This has led to many shantymen treating it not as meal, but as the mail which the ship carried. As the shanty is full of Irish allusions, the probabilities are that the word was meal, to which the sailor gave what he considered to be the Irish pronunciation. Whenever I heard the shanty it was given with an attempt at Irish pronunciation throughout.

1. Oh Johnny was a rover
And to-day he sails away.

Heave away, my Johnny,
Heave away-ay.

Oh Johnny was a rover
And to-day he sails away.

Heave away my bully boys,
We're all bound to go.

2. As I was walking out one day,
Down by the Albert Dock.

I heard an emigrant Irish girl
Conversing with Tapscott.


3. "Good mornin', Mister Tapscott, sir,"
"Good morn, my gel," sez he,

"It's have you got a Packet Ship
All bound for Amerikee?"



4. "Oh yes, I've got a Packet Ship,
I have got one or two.

I've got the Jenny Walker
And I've got the Kangeroo."



5. "I've got the Jenny Walker
And to-day she does set sail,

With five and fifty emigrants And a thousand bags o' male."

6. Badluck to thim Irish sailor boys,
Bad luck to thim I say.
For they all got drunk, and broke into me bunk
And stole me clo'es away.
//

[DRUNKEN SAILOR] for "windlass and capstan." As in 1920, with added verses.
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14. What shall we do with the drunken sailor?

This fine tune—in the first Mode—was always a great favourite. Although mostly used for windlass or capstan, Sir Walter Runciman tells me that he frequently sang to it for 'hand-over-hand' hauling. …It is one of the few shanties that were sung in quick time.

1. What shall we do with the drunken sailor,

What shall we do with the drunken sailor,

What shall we do with the drunken sailor

Early in the morning?

Hooray and up she rises,

Hooray and up she rises,

Hooray and up she rises

Early in the morning.


2. Put him in the long-boat until he's sober. (thrice)


3. Pull out the plug änd wet him all over. (thrice)


4. Put him in the scuppers with a hose-pipe on him. (thrice)


5. Heave him by the leg in a running bowlin'. (thrice)


6. Tie him to the taffrail when she's yard-arm under. (thrice)
//