1938        Carpenter, J.M. "Chanteys in the Age of Sail." _New York Times_ (30 October 1938). Pg. XX6.

Carpenter had around 3 more years of fieldwork under his belt when he wrote this later article. I wish, however, he'd have matched the names of his informants to the texts!

An "unfamiliar" song, and [ACROSS THE WESTERN OCEAN]:
//
During half a dozen years of knocking about British ports, by rallying the excellent memories of old salts, I have made a record of several hundred versions of chanteys not in the familiar collections.
Take this:

O I joined a ship to make a trip
Away to the Suth-ron Seas.
Blow high! Blo-o-ow lo-o-ow!

Or this:
Away, we're bound to go
Across the Western Ocean!
//

[HIGHLAND]
//
…Scottish chanteymen took aboard ship their bagpipe tune, "Hieland Laddie." And the spirited air and rhythm, born to the march-step of kilted clansmen, echoed for years to the clump of circling teet and the clack of capstan pawl as sailors weighed anchor out of the ports of the world. A Scottish chanteyman from Sunderland gave me the following version:

Whae hae ye been all the day,
Bonnie Lassie, Hieland Laddie?
I've been courtin' Allie Gray,
My bonnie Hieland Laddie!

Whae, hey, and awa we go!
Bonnie Lassie, Hieland Laddie!
Hey, hey, fair Hieland ho!
My bonnie Hieland Lassie!

But in the scuffle of the Chanteyman's workaday world, most of the romance of the ballad was shorn away, as in the following stanza:

Were you ever in Quebeck,
Hieand Laddie, Bonnie Laddie?
A-stowing timbers on the deck,
My bonnie Hieland Laddie!

Whay, hey, and away she goes!
Hieland Laddie, Bonnie Laddie!
Whay, hey, and away she goes,
My bonnie Hieland Laddie!
//

Tune + rhythm more important than text.
//
…For the ballad singer, having a story to tell, aimed at sense, coherency--and usually attained it. But in the chanteys tunes and rhythm count for everything; the words for next to nothing. For the chanteyman was not concemed with sense, but with sound. Occasionally he created glorious nonsense.
//

[ROLL THE COTTON DOWN]
//
One swinging chantey tune…came obviously from Negro stevedores (in New Orleans or Mobile), sweating, laughing, showing rows of gleaming teeth as they sang:

O have you been in New Orleans!
Roll the cotton down!
O-O-O, rolling cotton day by day
O roll the cotton down!

It's there I worked on the old levee,
Roll the cotton down!
A-screwing cotton by the day,
O roll the cotton down!

Indeed, it is not surprising to find a fairly large proportion of the chanteys coming from the American South. Chanteymen were naturally
quick to press into service aboard ship the Negro gang-work songs--with their droll fun, languorous cadences, and well-worn rhythm.
//

[LONG TIME AGO]
//
The Southern chantey that follows, sung to slow plaintive melody, suggests the shimmer of dancing heat waves and the sleepy drone of grasshoppers of a Summer day:

Away down South where I was born,
To me way, hey, hey-yah!
Among the fields of yellow corn,
A long time ago!

O they set me free from s1avery,
But they shipped me aboard and sent me to sea,

My first voyage was around Cape Horn,
Where the nights were short and the days were long.
//

[LOWLANDS AWAY]
//
Belonging to this group--at least in its slow pensive tune and dreamy atmosphere--is a.curious chantey, "Low-lands." The refrain "low-land," is common to a great many songs. One Scottish song begins.

"Low in the low-lands a wee, wee boy did wander"—

And In the ballad, "The Golden Vanity"…

…Usually in the chantey the refrain seems to have been employed purely for its music and for its atmospheric effect, as shown In the following stanza, quoted from Miss Colcord's collection:

I dreamed a dream the other night,
Low-lands, low-lands, away my John!
I dreamed a dream the other night,
My low-ands, away!

To carry torward the story, stanzas from Sir Richard Terry's collection read:

All in the night my true love came;
She came to me all in my sleep.

And her eyes were white my love.
And then I knew my love was dead.


…But my version, veering away, as usual, from the romance of the
story, moves toward the sailors' world of winds and sails and seas:

One night In Mobile the Yankees knew,
Low-lands, low-lands! Away my John!
The nor'west winds most bitter blew,
My dollar and and a half a day!

Our Captain was a grand old man,
His name it was Jack Tannerand-tan.

He called us aft and to us did say
'Now, my boys, we're bound to sea.'
//

Stock verses.
//
Whatever the chantey theme, the inarticulate burden in the back of
every sailor's mind ran:

Then up aloft this yard must go,
To where the wind in the sail will blow."

Or it ran:

To the sheave hole she must go,
Let the wind blow high or low!
//

[SACRAMENTO]
//
Blow, boys, blow
For Californie-O!
There's plenty of gold, so I've been told,
On the banks of the Sacramento!
//

[RIO GRANDE]
//
Where are you going to, my pretty maid,
Away-ay-ay, Rio!
I'm going amilking, kind sir, she said,
On the banks of the Rio Grande.
And away Rio! Away, Rio!
Sing fare you well, my bonnie young gal,
For we're bound for the Rio Grande!
//

[MR. STORMALONG]
//
…The chantey usually began:

Stormalong was a good old man,
Aye, aye, aye, Mr. Stormalong!
O Stormalong was a good old man,
Heave away, Old Storm!

But the version of a typical American deep-sea sailor runs:

O Storm today and storm no more,
Aye, aye, aye, Mr. Stormalong!
We storm today on sea and shore,
To me way-ay-ay, Mr. Stormalong!
Old Stormy's dead, what shall we do?
Old Stormy's dead, what shall we do?
We'll dig his grave with a silver spade, .
And lower him down with a golden chain.
//