Yesterday I sent a posting to the “Censorship-songs of certain folk singers” which met with rather more opposition than I expected
The historical importance of folk songs has been my interest for some time now so, as it was suggested that I took the argument elsewhere – here goes
Below are the first shot fired in the argument – you may read the other thread to see the whole battle, but rather the confine the discussion to one event, perhaps the more general “how reliable is folk history” might be better
I’ve also included the BBC note to the song
It was suggested that this discussion should be in the B.S. section, but if we can’t discuss folk songs in this section, why bother discussing them ?
Jim Carroll

In the 1950s the BBC embarked on a collecting campaign recording songs and music throughout the British Isles
They recorded a song from Mohill singer, Thomas Moran, concerning the assassination of William Sidney Clements, Third Earl of Leitrim in 1878
Lord Leitrim was one of the worst landlords of 19th century Ireland, reputed to have exercised the Medieval right of Droit du seigneur - "breaking-in" the brides of his tenants on their wedding night.
The notes to the song in the Beeb catalogue describe it as scurrilous and defamatory - they gave it an "S" number to indicate that it could only be played with special written permission
As far as I know, there is only one other folksong with this number
It transpires from an article I am reading by D K Wilgus and Eleanor Long that there are around two dozen other songs on the same subject

LORD LEITRIM

O you boys of the shamrock, pay attention to my ditty.
Be alive to your duty, be wise and be witty.
Keep your powder dry, and we’ll make the tyrant fall,
And we’ll give them what Lord Leitrim got below in Donegal.
Riddle-addle-day-ri, fol-the–rol-the–ree.

It being on the 2nd of April, this old debaucher left his den,
He left bailiffs, bums and harlots in the castle of Lough Rynn.
To Makim and Kincaid he gave a hellish bawl,
Saying: ‘We’ll tumble down the cabins in the County Donegal!’
With me Riddle-addle-day-ri, fol-the–rol-the–ree.

‘Twas two crafty-looking renegades old Shiney did obey,
Saying: ‘We’ll hurl out the Papish and we’ll drown them in the sea.
As Cromwell did in days of yore, we’ll waste ‘em, great and small,
And we’ll desolate their farms here below in Donegal.’
With me Riddle-addle-day-ri, fol-the–rol-the–ree.

‘Oh, me lord, I’ll feel so horrified,’ poor Makim he did say
‘For it has foretold me we’ll meet Rory on the way.”
His lordship then made answer in the presence of Kincaid:
‘Of Rory or the devil, sure, I never was afraid!”.
With me Riddle-addle-day-ri, fol-the–rol-the–ree.

So they druv away together on that unlucky day,
Until they came to Cretlagh Wood, near an angle of the sea,
Where bold Rory he was standing there, just threatened by a squall,*
All to protect the widows in the County Donegal.
With me Riddle-addle-day-ri, fol-the–rol-the–ree.

When young Rory seen him coming, his heart did jump for glee.
He gave three cheers for Tenant Right, Home Rule and liberty.
‘Our maiden fairs and Colleen Bawns that was proper, straight and tall,
Caused by you they were sent o’er the seas, far, far from Donegal.’**
With me Riddle-addle-day-ri, fol-the–rol-the–ree.

Oh, this monster’s face began to foam. His venom he did spew,
And roared out in a hellish tone: ‘Sir, Tell me who are you?
‘Well, my Lord, I’m Rory of the Hill, that makes you welcome all
To a hearty dose of bullet pills below in Donegal.’
With me Riddle-addle-day-ri, fol-the–rol-the–ree.

Oh, young Makim cries: ‘Spare us our lives, Miser Rory, if you please!’
‘No, no, for when you lie with dogs you’re sure to rise with fleas.’
The boys was laughing at the joke, they stood behind the wall,
Saying: ‘We’ll pepper ‘em up with powder and smoke this day in Donegal.’
With me Riddle-addle-day-ri, fol-the–rol-the–ree.

‘Oh, go on, my boys,’ says Rory. ‘Make ready, present and fire!’
At his old brain they took fair aim and they hurled him in the mire.
To revenge the joke, his head they broke, and his carcass there did maul.
They stuck him in a pool, his head to cool, below in Donegal.
With me Riddle-addle-day-ri, fol-the–rol-the–ree.

‘Well done, my boys,’ says Rory, as he turned to the sea,
Where the men they jumped into a boat that there at anchor lay.
‘We can paddle our own canoe, we’ve got a speedy shawl,
And hooray, me boys,’ say Rory, ‘For the maids of Donegal?’
With me Riddle-addle-day-ri, fol-the–rol-the–ree.

Oh, the policemen like beagles gathered round this dirty beast,
And the devils all, both great and small, they had a sumptuous feast.
He was dissected like a bullock down at Manorvaughan Hall,
And the devils ate him, rump and stump, that night in Donegal.
With me Riddle-addle-day-ri, fol-the–rol-the–ree.

(Source: This text is published and discussed by A.L. Lloyd in ‘Rebels and Their Causes’, Maurice Cornforth (ed), Lawrence and Wishart, London 1978, pp177-179. This is substantially the version as sung by the late Thomas Moran, Mohill, Co. Leitim and recorded by Séamus Ennis in 1954 [BBC recording S21899])

1   Singer: Miles Duggan                                                                4.45
S/19356
Beleek, Co. Fermanagh.
10.8.2 (P.K - S.O’B.)
'You boys of the shamrock
2.   Singer: Thomas Moran                                                                3.51
S/21899
Mohill, Leitrim.
December 1954 (S.E.)
'O you gentlemen of the shamrock ...'
This is a violent and scurrilous diatribe: Lord Leitrim, according to Miles Duggan, was a landlord from Manorhamilton, Co. Leitrim., who had an estate in Donegal, where he carried out evictions. He was assassinated, according to the song, on April 2nd by Rory of the Hill, who shot him from an ambush, The singer maintains that he was killed on account of his exercise of the 'droit de seigneur'.
The tune is similar to that of the English folk song 'The Crabfish'.