Roy Palmer discusses the song in full in the Folk Music Journal (1977)
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Jim Carroll

THE WEAVER IN LOVE
ROY PALMER

Until recent years the view was widely held that in England the rural phenomenon, folk song, had been obliterated by the Industrial Revolution, save for survivals in remote areas like Cecil Sharp's Somerset. The existence of industrial folk songs - a phrase which would previously have been considered a contradiction in terms - has now been accepted, grudgingly by some, enthusiastically by others.
A fine example of the tenacity of tradition, lasting three centuries, adapting to and surviving the Industrial Revolution, is provided by a song which appeared in 1963 on the pioneering record, The Iron Muse, under the title of The Weaver and the Factory Maid1. Its earliest known ancestor is a black-letter broadside, Will, the Merry Weaver and Charity, the Chambermaid, which was issued, according to J. W. Ebsworth, 'circa 1670-80'2. Our copy (Text 'A') comes from the Pepys Collection3.
Of the tunes indicated" none has survived; or at least none has been found by the indefatigable Claude Simpson5, which is next to the same thing. Perhaps the 'pleasant new tune' caught on. Certainly, we find that 'I am a Weaver by my Trade' is prescribed as the tune for another ballad issued, again according to Ebsworth, 'circa 1670-77'6, though presumably after 'A'.
I must confess that I find many of the would-be erotic ballads of the seventeenth century rather tiresome. They can be lengthy, florid, self-conscious, contrived. Here, when Will the weaver unveils Charity, his sleeping 'damosel, it is rather as though he were looking at statuary (with its two pillars of white ivory and associated fountain) than a naked woman in bed. Her sexual initiation by the weaver could have exploited the imagery of his trade; instead an extended metaphor based on teaching the ABC is unaccountably introduced. The weaver gives his sweetheart a fescue — which sounds exotic, but is merely a teacher's pointer-to manipulate and the ballad rather lamely ends: 'Though I'm a Weaver of low degree/ He teach them to read their ABC.
By the time we next meet it the song seems to have undergone a sea-change. From being subjected, one might conjecture, to the beneficial action of oral transmission, it has acquired a skill and tenderness previously lacking (text 'B')7. Astonishingly enough, Ebsworth describes this as being a 'corrupt reprint'of 'A'. In fact it is a new song loosely based on 'A', only three of whose 18 verses survive8. Put another way, five of 'B's' eight verses are new9. This time the sexual imagery of weaving is explored and in addition the theme is introduced of lovers matched across barriers of class. Common enough-'One of the most immediate effects of mobility within a changing society', wrote Raymond Williams10, 'is the difficult nature of the marriage choice' - but giving an additional creative tension to the ballad.
Text 'B' may well date from the eighteenth century, as do two others, which are typical slip songs with one long column of type and no publisher's imprint. The Fair Maid's desire to learn her ABC (Text 'C')n, though much shorter, follows 'A' fairly closely, save that the weaver has become a sailor. The Weaver and his Sweetheart (Text 'D')12, however, follows the pattern of 'B'; yet its connection with 'A' is still clear: the motif of the man seeing his sweetheart naked in bed verse 6) is in 'A' but not 'B'.
'D' is very close to a version (Text 'E')13 which can be exactly dated to 1769, since it comes from the logbook14 of a voyage made in that year by the topsail sloop, Nellie, from New Bedford to London and back. Yet another version which can be presumed to date from the eighteenth century is The Weaver in Love (Text 'F')15.
Texts 'D', 'E', and 'F' are very close. They all show signs of oral circulation. Verse 7 of 'E' is garbled. 'F' has phonetic spelling in some words to represent northern pronunciation. It is also clear that the song travelled in the geographical sense: apart from going to America in the Nellie the reference to County Down in 'D' and 'F' might well indicate an Irish connection.
There is also evidence of oral and geographical circulation in Text 'G', a broadside issued by Collard of Bristol in the early part of the nineteenth century16. The pattern of the last two lines indicates, if not a new tune, then a variation of an earlier one. It is interesting that the text of 'C might indicate a similar tune.
Five texts ('B', 'D', 'E\ 'F' and 'G') are very similar, both in general pattern17 and in particular phraseology. The language is restrained and direct and has that organic simplicity which is often the hallmark of classic folk song. A very high proportion of the words are monosyllables. There are almost no figures of speech, save for two similes. Nevertheless, the song has a constantly shifting focus and a delicate balance. In content it has tenderness almost amounting to reverence, a hint of sentimentality, a touch of humour, a restrained but deeply savoured sensuality.
The theme of an independent weaver courting a girl from a lower class could not easily survive the depression and virtual disappearance of the handloom trade in the first half of the nineteenth century. However, a neat reversal of roles gave the song a new lease of life, with the girl becoming the superior catch and the weaver aspiring to escape from his lowly status. T'Owd Weaver (Text 'H') is a fragment 'heard a long time ago at Kirkstall' by 'Musical' Lindsay, from whom Frank Kidson had it18. When it was published three verses19 of unspecified provenance were added, which make clear the inferior status of the weaver. The song has now become a mere outpouring of unrequited yearning, with little of the savour of its forerunners. One may have to blame Kidson for this, since he was not above omitting to take down words which he considered objectionable and supplying anodyne sets himself. On the other hand, a version collected by A. L. Lloyd   (Text 'J')20,   while retaining   dialogue   and the   amorous encounter, also has similarities with Kidson's21. One might hazard a guess that both date from the early 1830s.
'The girls have gone to weave by steam' might well indicate the early years of steam loom weaving in factories. In 1834, for example, of an adult labour force of some 192,000 in all textile mills in the United Kingdom, well over half (about 103,000) were women. Of the men, most were probably young, for two reasons: the employers preferred young men and boys because they were more malleable than the seasoned handloom weavers, and because they were paid much less. In 1835 the rates were just under five shillings a week for males aged 11 to 16, a little over ten shillings a week from 16 to 21, and 17s. 2 1/2. from 21 to 26, rising ultimately to 22s. 8|d.22
Certainly, there is clear evidence in the first half of the nineteenth century of pre-industrial or rural songs being adapted to suit the changed circumstances brought about by the Industrial Revolution. The Luddite song, Cropper Lads, is a re-make of a poaching ballad23. 'To be a farmer's boy' became 'To be a factory boy'24, and the ploughing boy sent 'to the wars to be slain', because he was thought not good enough for the girl who wished to marry him, changed to a factory lad25. Some of these merely altered the hero's occupation (though   even   this   is   not   without   significance);   others   were fundamentally changed. The Weaver and the Factory Maid, as well as superficial changes has that fine last verse which deeply marks the song with the imprint of a new world:
Now where are the girls? I'll tell you plain, The girls have gone to weave by steam, And if you'd find 'em you must rise at dawn And trudge to the factory in the early morn.
There are many examples of this process of re-creation which songs underwent in an attempt to come to terms with the Industrial Revolution and the emergence of the working class, and much work remains to be done. In the meantime, A. L. Lloyd's recorded version of The Weaver and the Factory Maid has given the song a new lease of life on top of its earlier three centuries. Long may the weaver's love continue.