"Gerould was writing in 1957. A lot has changed since then. "
Actually Gerould was writing in 1932, and no information has been forthcoming since then to impact on what he said
Why is it necessary to destroy the work of others to make room for your own theories Steve - that is cultural vandalism ?
I'm delighted that Grould's bame came up - he had much to to say that contradicts the introduction of the 'Singing Horse' theory
I apologise for the length of this but I found it difficult not to include the two chapters - there really is much more common sense in his wonderful book
If the is wrong, you need to show is where instead of alluding to it.
Jim

From The Ballad of Tradition Gordon Hall Gerould, Oxford at teh Clarendon Press 1932

The Nature if Ballads (pp 12-14)
Ballads are very far from being primitive poetry, indeed; they are rather the flower of an art formalized and developed among people whose training has been oral instead of visual. Unlettered the makers have been, simple of mind and heart, but not without moulding traditions perpetuated through many centuries and not without some contact with their superiors in the social and educational scale. Primitive music and primitive poetry could not come from them any more than it can come from the composers and poets who practise a more sophisticated and conscious artistry. They have had an art of their own, a double art of melody and verse, distinct from that of their betters but by no means unworthy, oddly enough, to stand beside it. Indeed, to trace the connexion between the two in the same lands and periods is of more importance to an understanding of the formal qualities of ballad music and ballad stories than to search for analogies among backward races.

Art of a sort there is, even among peoples who are backward in development. Research during the past generation has shown quite clearly that the history of art is exceedingly long and its ramifications co-extensive with man; but the art of the unlettered portions of European peoples is in another case from that of Bantu tribesmen. They have always formed parts of nations in which artists more or less nourished on conscious aesthetic tradition have at the same time been working. This state of things undoubtedly makes the study of ballads, to mention only the instance with which we are immediately concerned, much more difficult than it would be if ballads were phenomena with a less complicated environment. Yet it cannot be too strongly urged that we should keep the true state of things in mind and use with discretion analogies from the verse and music of primitive races.

There is no real antithesis between folk-music and folk-poetry on the one hand, and the poetry and music of art on the other, though it has been so often stated that we are in danger of accepting it unthinkingly. A contrast exists, it is true. The phrase is useful by way of indicating differences in attitude on the part of makers and wide differences in conditions of production; but it is misleading, because it suggests that folk-song is not art. Folk-song has developed orally, without conscious¬ness of the aesthetic principles according to which it is moulded; but the principles are there. Folk-song has seemingly developed also without the kind of individual¬istic effort that goes to the production and reproduction of poetry and music among the lettered classes. The literate artist cannot wholly escape, no matter how hard he may try, from the effects of critical theory; and the history of literature and music proves, we should prob¬ably all agree, that in such bondage he has thriven. The Martha of criticism has been a most useful sister to the Mary of creation. The processes of folk-song have been different. Forces of which the makers have been almost unconscious have often shaped it to beauty, taste acquired through the long-continued practice of a traditional art has directed imagination; but there has been no effort at intellectual control, which is probably why the art of the folk, with all its vitality and vigour, has been a some-what ragged thing, amazingly lovely sometimes, almost always interesting, but curiously uneven in execution.

Into the processes of folk-song as they have operated in the particular domain of the ballad we propose to inquire in the present volume, and specifically as to ballads the words of which are English. There can be no harm in thus limiting our field of study if only we keep in mind that this oral, traditional art has been con¬fined to no one people. Certain features of English and Scottish ballads are peculiar to themselves, but the art of which they are representative has been widespread throughout Europe at least. Having defined the nature of balladry, let us try, in the next place, to see our English and Scottish specimens in their international relations.

Ballads and Broadsides (pp 242 and 243)
Thus in a third way broadsides had a marked influence on balladry. Too little has been made of this, I believe, by students of the traditional ballad, though the effect on individual specimens has been admirably investi-gated.1

Since variants that derive ultimately from printed texts are found in the most isolated parts of the United States and Canada, it is clear that broadsides affected an exceedingly widespread area; and since the oral tradi¬tion of some of the texts so derived is in itself a long one, it is evident that the influence began a great while ago. There can be no doubt whatever that a pure tradition of oral descent became an impossibility as soon as the purveyors of broadsides had established their trade in the sixteenth century. Contamination, if one choose to regard it as such, became possible in the case of any ballad whatsoever. Since the printing of traditional ballads was sporadic rather than general, the majority of them have never been subject to this artificial interruption of their proper course; but so many have been affected as to cast suspicion on any specimen that is being studied. The possibility of contamination should always be kept in mind.

As we have noted earlier, the tenacity of popular memory is as extraordinary as its fallibility. Variation appears to be incessant, yet sometimes a text survives almost unaltered the chances of oral repetition for a century and more. The evidence for this rests chiefly upon versions of songs that have in one way or another got into print.3
1 See, for example, the illuminating notes of Mr. Barry in British Ballads from Maine.
2 See the history of Lord Lovel (75) or Barbara Allan (84). Menéndez Pidal has shown traditional versions
may sometimes remain unaffected by printed ones. (See ante, p. 170.)

Ballads and Broadsides (pp 14-144)        
It seems to me clear that the effect of circulating them has been to retard variation quite markedly, as if verses one learned directly or indirectly from broad¬sides and the like made a deeper impression on memory than those learned wholly by ear. One can only won¬der whether there has been a feeling for the sanctity of the written word, or whether in some obscure way minds have registered differently verses fixed in print. At all events, it appears that the normal fluidity of alter¬ation has been disturbed whenever publication has taken place.

Apart from the effect on individual ballads of the traditional sort, the circulation of broadsides inevitably produced changes in the art of folk-song as a whole. The rapid adoption of a great number of pieces both lyrical and narrative, some set to old tunes and some to new, and for the most part completely devoid of beauty in form and substance, could not have failed to lower the standards of taste that had been developed. The wonder is that the power of musical and poetical expression among common folk was not altogether destroyed by this, the first assault of many in modern times on the integrity of the traditional art. That it was weakened, there can be no doubt, I believe. There are numerous good ballads from the north that cannot have originated before the seventeenth century, but almost none traceable to districts nearer London. One thinks of The Fire of Frendraught {196), The Bonnie House O’ Airlie (199), The Gypsy Laddie (200), and The Baron of Brackley (203), to name only a few. In a very thoughtful book, published posthumously in 1913, Bryant called attention to this state of things,1 though he under-estimated the extent to which older ballads survived in the south. It is not a question of a finer development in Scotland than in England, but of an earlier decay in regions nearer London as a result of the infiltration of songs from Grub Street. What appears to have occurred was a serious, though not mortal, injury to the traditional art, affecting verse much more profoundly than music and operating less disastrously in regions that were rela¬tively free from the influence of printed texts.

There could be no better evidence of the vitality of folk-song than the fact that it survived the cheapening and deadening effect of broadsides, which for more than two centuries were hawked about the countryside. We have to remember, in this connexion, how very few speci¬mens of traditional ballads are extant that antedate this period. Our studies must largely be confined to speci¬mens as they have been remembered and sung in this later time, and our judgements are formed upon material so gathered. The verse and music that have furnished inspiration and technical guidance to our modern poets and composers were collected, for the most part, after the ballad-monger had done his worst. We should not minimize the evil that he accomplished—certainly not ignore it, as many students of ballads have done. We should not forget that a collection like that made by Child necessarily includes a great number of pieces either originated by hirelings of the printers or deeply marked by the influence of their work. At the same time, having taken these factors into account, we are justified in saying that folk-song was neither destroyed nor irretrievably harmed by the flood of new ballads that poured over the country during the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries. One may fairly put it that the art suffered from a severe case of indigestion, that the glut of mediocre songs could not be properly absorbed and adapted to the gracious ways of tradition; but further than that one cannot go.

1 A History of English Balladry, p. 192.