That link is great, Mo.

Here is Hardy's short story, Absent-Mindedness in a Parish Choir, a very short tale of a popular local band that during the Christmas season had "been out to one rattling randy after another every night, and had got next to no sleep at all." In the freezing church gallery Sunday afternoon after Christmas, they warm themselves with "a gallon of hot brandy and beer, ready mixed", with the inevitable result that during the long sermon, "they fell asleep, every man jack of 'em". Upon being awoken in the dark late afternoon, they mistakenly break into "The Devil Among the Tailors" instead of the required hymn, and the leader "shouted out as he scraped (in his usual commanding way at dances when the folk didn't know the figures), 'Top couples cross hands! And when I make the fiddle squeak at the end, every man kiss his pardner under the mistletow!'"

The offended squire "That very week he sent for a barrel-organ that would play two-and-twenty new psalm tunes, so exact and particular that, however sinful inclined you was, you could play nothing but psalm tunes whatsomever. He had a really respectable man to turn the winch, and the old players played no more."

More to the point for this thread, in the opening paragraph it says:

There was Nicholas Puddingcome, the leader, with the first fiddle; there was Timothy Thomas, the bass-viol man; John Biles, the tenor fiddler; Dan'l Hornhead, with the serpent; Robert Dowdle, with the clarionet; and Mr. Nicks, with the oboe—all sound and powerful musicians, and strong-winded men—they that blowed.

~ Becky in Tucson