Lyr Req: The Place Where the Old Horse Died

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: My Gallant Horse Died
From: McGrath of Harlow
Date: 15 Aug 10 - 07:04 PM

Someone should post the words of Albert Chevalier's "Jeerusalem's Dead" about a costermonger's donkey which has gone to glory.

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: My Gallant Horse Died
From: mikesamwild
Date: 15 Aug 10 - 08:00 AM

I'm resurrecting or flogging this dead old horse because I'm intrigued at the role of the horse in society and wondered if there are any leads on ceremonies in other cultures or history. I will of course be going on Wickipedia etc but would like some stuff from the horse's mouth.

Subject: Lyr Add: THE PLACE WHERE THE OLD HORSE DIED
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 25 Mar 03 - 08:34 PM

Copied from http://www.huntfacts.com/White-Melville.htm#5

THE PLACE WHERE THE OLD HORSE DIED
(G. J. Whyte-Melville)

In the hollow, by the pollard, where the crop is tall and rank
  Of the dock-leaf and the nettle growing free—
Where the bramble and the brushwood straggle blindly o'er the bank,
  And the pyat jerks and chatters on the tree,
        There's a fence I never pass
        In the sedges and the grass,
  But for very shame I turn my head aside,
        While the tears come thick and hot,
        And my curse is on the spot—
  'Tis the place where the old horse died.

There's his hoof upon the chimney, there's his hide upon the chair—
  A better never bent him to the rein;
Now, for all my love and care, I've an empty stall and bare;
  I shall never ride my gallant horse again!
        How he laid him out at speed!
        How he loved to have a lead!
  How he snorted in his mettle and his pride!
        Not a flyer of the Hunt
        Was beside him in the front,
  At the place where the old horse died.

Was he blown?—I hardly think it. Did he slip?—I cannot tell;
  We had run for forty minutes in the Vale;
He was reaching at his bridle—he was going strong and well,
  And he never seemed to falter or to fail.
        Though I sometimes fancy, too,
        That his daring spirit knew
  The task beyond the compass of his stride;
        Yet he faced it true and brave,
        And dropped into his grave—
  At the place where the old horse died!

I was up in half a minute, but he never seemed to stir
  Though I scored him with my rowels in the fall;
In his life he had not felt before the insult of the spur,
  And I knew that it was over, once for all.
        When motionless he lay,
        In his cheerless bed of clay,
  Huddled up without an effort, on his side;
        'Twas a hard and bitter stroke!
        For his honest back was broke
  At the place where the old horse died.

With a neigh so faint and feeble that it touched me like a groan,
  "Farewell," he seemed to murmur, "ere I die."
Then set his teeth and stretched his limbs. And so I stood alone,
  While the merry chase went heedless sweeping by.
        Am I womanly and weak
        If the tear was on my cheek,
  For a brotherhood that Death could thus divide;
        If sickened and amazed,
        Through a woeful mist I gazed
  On the place where the old horse died?

There are men both good and wise who hold that in a future state
  Dumb creatures we have cherished here below,
Shall give us joyous greeting when we pass the Golden Gate—
  Is it folly that I hope it may be so?
        For never man had friend
        More enduring to the end,
  Truer mate in every turn of time and tide;
        Could I think we'd meet again
        It would lighten half my pain
  At the place where the old horse died!

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: MY GALLENT HORSE DIED
From: Harry Basnett
Date: 24 Mar 03 - 09:18 AM

Good on yer, Malcolm...as I said, I'm lousy at links.....

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: MY GALLENT HORSE DIED
From: Malcolm Douglas
Date: 24 Mar 03 - 08:44 AM

A poem by G. J. Whyte-Melville (1821-1878). See, for example, The Place Where the Old Horse Died.

Whyte-Melville was a professional soldier turned writer who produced a large number of novels and poems (today mostly forgotten) on historical and hunting themes. Several of his poems seem to have been set to music, and The Place Where the Old Horse Died was evidently popular in its day. Kipling mentions it in Plain Tales from the Hills.

The various traditional Poor Old Horse songs (there are two strands, one belonging to maritime custom and the other to a regional form of mumming) are another matter entirely.

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: MY GALLENT HORSE DIED
From: Harry Basnett
Date: 24 Mar 03 - 07:44 AM

Lousy at doing links..the song is called:

The Place Where the Old Horse Died.

Go onto Google and put in those words surrounded by inverted commas and good old Google should throw up the site with the lyrics on.

All the best.............Harry Basnett.

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: MY GALLENT HORSE DIED
From: Dead Horse
Date: 24 Mar 03 - 05:13 AM

Some of the lyrics to the above were recited when the first cask of salt beef was broached at sea.
One man would say or sing the lines, and the rest would come in on the chorus of "Salt horse, salt horse what brought yer here".
The above seems to have been put together for folkies use, rather than for "sailors use".
Also known as Sailors Grace. For some other versions, see Stan Hugills Shanties From The Seven Seas

Subject: LYR ADD: Old Horse
From: Sorcha
Date: 28 Jun 01 - 03:32 PM

This is all I found relevant to horses on the Watersons site:

Sung by Martin Carthy on Out of the Cut. The same recording is included on Martin Carthy's The Collection, and also on Martin Carthy's Rigs of the Time. Old Horse is also on Brass Monkey's Sound and Rumour, in a different performance, with almost exactly the same words. Martin Carthy also contributed this song to the Feed the Folk compilation of 1985. That recording is included in The Martin Carthy Chronicles.

OLD HORSE

Old horse old horse what brought you here
Carted stones this many's the year
Killed by stones and sore abuse
They salt you down for sailors' use
A warrior am I and at war I've been
Fighting for my country and king
Now I'm old and I'm in decay
It's poor old horse get on your way

My keeping once was the stable wall
Free from all cold winds and harm
Now in the fields I am forced to go
Turned out in the cold and rain and snow

My feeding once was the oats and hay
That grew in the fields and the meadows gay
Now I'll get no such at all
But pull at the short grass by the wall

The sailors they do me despise
Kick my body and damn my eyes
Cut my meat and pick my bones
Throw the rest to Davey Jones

Here is a hoof that was so well shod
Likewise a hide that sweat so hard
Whipped him lashed him drove him down
Rise up old horse and shine again

http://wwwmcc.murdoch.edu.au/~gillard/watersons/old.html

Subject: MY GALLENT HORSE DIED
From: GUEST,SMILER
Date: 28 Jun 01 - 02:54 PM

A SONG SUNG BY MICK WATERSON .

ALL I CAN REMEMBER IS PART OF THE CHORUS:

"THERES HIS HOOF UPON THE TABLE HIS HIDE UPON THE CHAIR"

CAN ANYONE SUPPLY THE REST?