The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #128220 Message #3201436
Posted By: Gibb Sahib
04-Aug-11 - 02:13 AM
Thread Name: The Advent and Development of Chanties
Subject: RE: The Advent and Development of Chanties
1951[reissued 2004] Various Artists. _American Sea Songs & Shanties_. Duncan Emrich, ed. The Library of Congress, Archive of Folk Culture. Rounder, CD, 18964-1519-2.
Incidentally, this is one of the recordings I listened to in college that got me interested in singing chanties.
The author of these notes made great use of Doerflinger, Colcord, and Masefield in order to write the intro notes to each song. These notes are not of much use to us; I am focused on the content of the recordings, some of which includes explanations by the singers.
Notes the slow tempo of the singers.
//
To those who may be acquainted with certain of these songs through the radio or from the singing of trained vocalists, one thing is at once apparent --the slow tempo of the singing. This tempo is true to the tradition, and any faster tempo is a falsification of the shanties. The shanties were work songs, and the work was slow and arduous; …
//
Richard Maitland. Rec by Alan Lomax, 1939.
[BOWLINE]
//
HAUL THE BOWLINE
This is the oldest known short-haul shanty, and, according to John Masefield, goes back to the days of Henry VIII. …
"Now this is a short song that's usually used in pulling aft a sheet or hauling down a tack."
Haul the bowline, the long-tailed bowline,
Haul the bowline, the bowline haul. (That's the chorus")
Haul the bowline, Kitty, oh [YOUR], my darling,
Haul the bowline, the bowline haul.
Haul the bowline, we'll haul and haul together,
Haul the bowline, the bowline haul.
Haul the bowline, we'll haul for better weather,
Haul the bowline, the bowline haul.
Haul the bowline, we'll bust, we'll break our banner, [or bend her]
Haul the bowline, the bowline haul.
//
[DRUNKEN SAILOR]
//
THE DRUNKEN SAILOR
"Now this is a song that's usually sang when men are walking away with the slack of a rope, generally when the iron ships are scrubbing their bottom. After an iron ship has been twelve months at sea, there's a quite a lot of barnacles and grass grows onto her bottom. And generally, in the calm latitudes, up in the horse latitudes in the North Atlantic Ocean, usually they rig up a purchase for to scrub the bottom. You can't do it when the ship is going over three mile an hour, but less than that, of course, you can do so. But it all means a considerable walking, not much labor, but all walking. And they have a song called 'The Drunken Sailor' that comes in for that."
Now 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?
Oh, chuck him in the long boat till he gets sober,
Ay hey and up she rises,
Oh, what shall we do with the drunken soldier,
Oh, put him in the guardhouse and make him bail her,
Put him in the guardhouse till he gets sober,
Put him in the guardhouse till he gets sober
Way hey and up she rises,
Oh, here we are nice and sober,
Oh, way hey and up she rises,
//
[A-ROVING]
//
A-ROVING
"Now this is a song that we usually sing on the capstan, heaving the anchor up, before the days of steam come in to help us out•••also to heave the ship in from different parts of the dock to other berths made for her, when she had to shift around."
In Amsterdam there lived a maid,
And she was mistress of her trade,
I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid;
For a-roving, a-roving, since roving's been my ruin,
I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid.
Her eyes were like twin stars at night,
And her cheeks they rivalled the roses red,
I asked this fair maid where she lived,
She rooms up on Skidansky Dyke.
I took this fair maid for a walk,
For I liked to hear her loving talk.
I placed my hand upon her knee,
Says she, "Young man, you're getting free."
This last six months I've been to sea,
And, boys, this gal looked good to me.
In three weeks time I was badly bent,
And then to sea I sadly went.
On a red hot Yank bound 'round Cape Horn,
My clothes and boots were in the pawn,
//
[HEAVE AWAY MY JOHNNIES]
//
HEAVE AWAY
One morning as I was a-walking down by the Waterloo Docks,
Heave away, my Johnny, heave away,
I overheard an emigrant conversing with Tapscott,
And away, my jolly boys, we're all bound to go.
"Good morning, Mr. Tapscott, good morning, sir," says she,
"Oh, have you any ship or two that'll carry me over the sea?"
"Oh, yes, my noble young Irish blade, I have a ship or two,"
"One is the Joshua[y] Walker, and the other's the Kangaroo,"
"Now the Joshua[y] Walker on Friday she will make sail,"
"The present day she's taking on board a thousand bags of male,"
Bad luck to the Joshua[y] Walker and the day that she made sail,
For the sailor's got drunk and broke upon the trunk, and stole all me yallow male!
//
//
PADDY DOYLE
"Now this is a song that's just used in the one place•••on the•••when the men are all together on the yards, one of the lower yards. they call it the main or foreyard •••and they're rolling up the sail. They get the sail all ready for the one big bowsing up, and the man in the bunt will sing•••
Way ay ay yah,
We'll all fling dung at the cook!
With that last word, 'cook,' all hands gives a bowse on it, and that hauls the sail up•••but you'll never get it up with one pull, so the man sings out then…
Way ay ay yah,
Who sold poor Paddy Doyle's boots?
And another pull. Well, if it isn't satisfactory, if you want one more •••
Way ay ay yah,
We'll all go down and hang the cook.
Well, if the sail is bowsed up, that's all there is to be said about it•••but there's never any more than about six verses to that same song."
//
[PADDY LAY BACK]
//
PADDY, GET BACK
I was broke and out of a job in the city of London,
I went down the Shadwell docks to get a ship.
Chorus:
Paddy, get back, take in the slack,
Heave away your capstan, heave a pawl, heave a pawl!
'Bout ship and stations there be handy,
Rise, tacks and sheets and mainsail, haul!
("This is a capstan shanty now•••")
There was a Yankee ship a-laying in the basin,
Oh, they told me she was going to New York.
If I ever lay my hands on that shipping master,
Oh, I'll murder him if it's the last thing that I do.
When the pilot left the ship way down the channel,
Oh, the captain told us we were going around Cape Horn.
The mate and second mate belonged to Boston,
And the captain hailed from Bangor down in Maine.
The three of them were rough and tumble fighters,
When not fighting amongst themselves, they turned on us.
Oh, they called us out one night to reef the topsails,
Now with belaying pins a-flying around the deck.
Oh, and we came on deck and went to set the topsails,
Not a man among the bunch could sing a song.
We had tinkers, we had tailors and firemen, also cooks,
And they couldn't sing a shanty unless they had the book.
Oh, wasn't that a bunch of hoodlums
For to take a ship around Cape Horn!
M: "Now this song•••I forgot to explain it in the first place•••it commences•••The solo is sung by the shantyman sitting on the capstan head, where he always does sing•••sit in case of singing shanties. The shantyman sits there and does nothing, while the crew, walking around the capstan, are singing. The chorus begins at:
Paddy, get back, take in the slack,
Heave away the capstan, heave a pawl,
'Bout ship and stations there be handy,
Rise, tacks and sheets and mainsail, haul!
L: "And show us where the pull.••where the••.comes•••"
M: "That's what I'm telling them now. This 'Paddy, get back' is the chorus••• "
L: "And that's where they pull?"
M: "There's no pull in a capstan shanty! They're walking around the capstan with the bars!"
//
[BLOW THE MAN DOWN]
//
BLOW THE MAN DOWN (II)
As I was a-walking down Paradise Street,
Way hey, blow the man down,
A dashing young damsel I chanced for to meet,
Give me some time to blow the man down.
I hailed her in English, and hailed her all 'round,
I hauled up alongside, and asked where she was bound,
She'd left the Black Arrow bound for the Shakespeare,
We went in and had two big glasses of beer,
//
[HANDY MY BOYS]
//
SO HANDY, ME BOYS, SO HANDY
Now handy high and handy low,
Handy, me boys, so handy,
Oh, it's handy high and away we'll go,
Handy, me boys, so handy.
Hoist her up from down below,
We'll hoist her up through frost and snow,
We'll hoist her up from down below,
We'll hoist her and show her clew.
One more pull and that will do.
Oh, we'll sing a song that'll make her go.
Now it's growl you may, but go you must,
If you growl too much, your head they'll bust.
Now one more pull and then belay,
And another long pull and we'll call it a day.
Now handy high and handy low,
Oh, one more pull and we'll send her alow.
We'll hoist her up and show her clew,
And we'll make her go through frost and snow,
Lomax: What kind of a shanty is that?
Maitland: Well, that's a pulling shanty. You see where they --"handy, me boys" Is that thing going?
L: Uh-huh.
M: That's a hoisting shanty, it goes -- you can either take a single long pull except when the mate is out of humor, and he sings out to "double up, double up," then you take a pull at "handy, me boys, so handy."
L: Was that a very popular shanty?
M: Yes, sure it's very popular!
//
[LONG TIME AGO]
//
A LONG TIME AGO
Maitiand: Now this is a song that's very popular in the vessels bound across with cotton from Mobile, New Orleans, Savannah, Charleston, any place where they load cotton, and it's usually sang with a gusto when they do sing it.
Way down South where I was born,
Way ay ay yah,
I've picked the cotton and hoed the corn,
Oh a long time ago.
In the good old State of Alabam' ,
So I've packed my bag, and I'm going away,
When I was young and in my prime,
Oh, I served my time in the Black Ball Line.
I'm going away to Mobile Bay,
Where they screw, the cotton by the day.
Five dollars a day's a white man's pay,
And a dollar and a half is a black man's pay.
When the ship is loaded, I'm going to sea,
For a sailor's life is the life for me,
//