Fred Hamer (1909 - 1969) was one of the most important folk song collectors in the 1950s and 1960s. His original interest was in dance. He was Squire of Bedford Morris Men and later Squire of the Morris Ring. He was a member of the National Executive of the EFDSS, served on the District and Club Committees, and called for local dances. Unfortunately, in the early 1950s, blindness struck - virtually overnight.
>Fred courageously accepted his blindness and transferred his attention to the world of sound, collecting songs. He collected all over the country in areas missed by the early collectors and his friendly manner put singers at their ease. Fred was fortunate in having many acquaintances around the country who could offer introductions to local people, but chance sometimes played a part, for example when he met May Bradley. After playing for the Morris at a Ring meeting in Ludlow, Fred retreated to the nearest local with a friend, taking his fiddle with him. This is how he described it:
I wandered thankfully into The Blue Boar in a cool side street, and, in self defence, handed my fiddle to the landlord behind the bar as I ordered the beer so necessary to a Morris fiddler after a day on tour. I was on familiar ground, for I had spent long, hot, summer months in Ludlow on a harsh toughening course during the war, and had come to appreciate the hospitality and warm- heartedness of the people of this lovely country town nestling comfortably below the keep of its guardian castle.
The bar was empty, for I had crept away from the too numerous musicians in grateful obedience to the call of a friend I had not seen for years, so the men would not be along for a little while. At least, I thought it was empty, but I was startled and not a little glad that the fiddle was safely out of reach, for I heard a woman's voice from the chair beside me, making the usual plea for a tune, and expressing the usual sympathy for a blind man. I took a long pull at my mug, sat back wearily, and suggested jokingly that the speaker should sing to me instead. Within a few seconds, I was petrified by her response. With her mouth but a few inches from my ear, she sang softly if a little harshly, but with the complete assurance of a practised performer, several verses of The Outlandish Knight.
Before long, it became obvious that her repertoire was extensive, that she was of gipsy stock, and that here was an opportunity that must not be missed, so before we were engulfed in the oncoming tide of thirsty Morris men and she had gone home, I had arranged to see her the next morning and negotiated for the loan of a tape recorder.
She arrived with a couple of male kinsmen and I learned that she was in fact a gipsy, of the Smith family, and that many of her songs were from her mother. I also found that it was not easy to get her to sing any particular song on request, but she did eventually record The Outlandish Knight, which she called The Dappledy Grey. During this session, I was able to take some half dozen songs, one or two in the face of opposition from a Morris side close to the window.
It was evident that something more would have to be done, and, within a month or two, I had arranged to spend a weekend in Ludlow to see how much I could add. Meantime, I checked the published collections of Dr. Vaughan Williams and Mrs. Leather, and found that, for instance, "my mother's favourite carol" had been sung by Esther Smith at Weobley in 1912 or 1913.
I was not surprised therefore when she told me that her mother was Esther Smith, and that she had made gramophone records for "Dr. Leather" 50 years ago. I was, of course, very sceptical about the "gramophone records", but I did not know then that she spoke the literal truth, not gipsy blarney, for I discovered a year or two later that Vaughan Williams had sent a phonograph to Hereford and Mrs. Leather had indeed recorded some of her songs on it.
According to Fred's notes, May could neither read nor write.
Another important singer was Arthur Lane, who played the melodeon and accompanied Fred Jordan at harvest suppers.
The first time I entered Sweet Swansea,
For the truth unto you I will tell
I was handcuffed and put into prison
And locked up in a dark dismal cell.
My cell was dark, dismal and lonely,
No light I could see there at all,
For the neat little door it was bolted,
And my bed was a plank by the wall.
Next morning my turnkey came to me,
And he told me to fold up my bed,
He did hand me a tin of cold water,
And a small little loaf of brown bread.
Bad luck to those judges and juries,
That won't let a poor prisoner go free,
Every man to his friends and relations,
Oh, it's me for my sweet liberty.
If I could only find a sweet eagle,
I would borrow his wings and I'd fly,
I would fly to the arms of my true love,
And it's on her sweet bosom I'd lie.
An outlandish knight he came from the north land,
And he came a-wooing to me,
Now he told me he'd take me unto the north land,
And there he would marry me.
Go fetch me some of your father's gold,
And some of your mother's fee,
Two of the best horses out of the stable,
Where there stand thirty and three.
She fetched him some of her father's gold,
And some of her mother's fee,
Two of the best horses out of the stable,
Where there stood thirty and three.
She mounted on her milk white steed,
And he on the dapple grey,
They rode till they came unto the seaside,
Not long before it was day.
Light off, light off your milk white steed,
Deliver it now unto me,
For six pretty fair maids I have drowned here,
The seventh one thou shalt be.
Put off, put off your fine silken gown,
Deliver it now unto me,
I think it is looking too rich and too good,
For to rot all in the salt sea.
Now if I have to pull off my fine silken gown,
And deliver it now unto thee,
I don't think it's fitting a ruffian like you,
A naked woman should see.
Now he turned himself the other way,
A-watching those leaves growing green,
She caught him around his middle so small,
And she tumbled him into the stream.
Now he plunged high and he plunged low,
Until he came to the side,
Take hold of my hand, my pretty fair maid,
And I will make you my bride.
Lie there, lie there you false hearted man,
Lie there instead of me,
For it's six pretty maids you have drownded here,
And the seventh she has drownded thee.
She mounted on her milk white steed,
She led the dappled grey.
She rode till she came to her own father's hall,
Not long before it was day.
Now the parrot was up in the window so high,
And he to the lady did say,
I'm afraid that some ruffian has led you astray,
That you have been so long away.
Don't prittle, don't prattle, my pretty Polly,
Don't tell no tales of me,
And your cage will be made of the glittering gold
And the doors of the best ivory.
Now the king he sat up in his chamber so high,
And he heard what the parrot did say,
Whatever's the matter my pretty Polly,
You are prattling so long before day?
It's no laughing matter, the parrot did say,
That so loudly I call unto thee,
For the cat he got up in the window so high,
I'm afraid he will have me.
Well done, well done, my pretty Polly,
You have tuned your note well for me,
Now your cage will be made of the glittering gold
And the doors of the best ivory, ivory,
And the doors of the best ivory.
Now it's of a fair damsel my fortune was had,
I were overcourted by a rakish young lad,
I kept my love company by night and by day,
Now Johnny he's 'listed and he's gone far away.
My love's now a soldier, he's neat, tall and slim,
There's none in the Army that can better him,
With his red rosy cheeks and his curly black hair,
His flattering tongue has my heart in a snare.
Now there's some people say that I'm out of my
mind,
There's some people say that I'm large with a child,
But it's let them be talking and say what they will,
For the love I've got for him I'll keep it up still.
Now if I were a scholar and could handle my pen,
I would write him a letter, to him would I send,
God send him safe sailing and fair winds to blow,
And adieu to my true love wherever he goes.
Now if I were a blackbird I'd whistle and sing,
I would follow the ship that my true love sailed in,
On the top of his mainmast I would build my nest,
And at night I would gaze on his lily-white breast.
Now it's down the green groves I was wandering,
Down the green groves by the spring
And there I saw those lambs were playing,
And the birds they whistled and they did sing.
Although my name it is Maria,
Just a poor girl I agree,
The squire he courted me late and early,
Until he had his will of me.
So soon he had his will and pleasure,
Then jealousy grew in his mind,
He caught me dancing with another,
And he gave to me a glass of wine.
Soon she drank it, soon she felt it,
Then to him she made this cry,
Oh Johnny, Oh Johnny, my constant Johnny,
It's all for the sake of you I die.
Nine long hours she lay a-dying,
Daylight now grew in the sky,
Oh Johnny, Oh Johnny, my constant Johnny,
It's all for the sake of you I die.
It's hark, hark, hark, the cocks are crowing,
Daylight now will soon appear,
But it's down in the lonesome grave I'm going,
It's my false lover that brought me here.
On Christmas Day it happened so,
Down in those meadows for to plough,
As he was ploughing all on so fast,
Up came sweet Jesus himself at last.
Oh man, Oh man why dost thou plough,
So hard upon Our Lord's birthday?
The farmer answered him with great speed,
For to plough this day I have got need.
Now his arms did quaver through and through,
His arms did quaver, he could not plough,
For the ground did open and lose him in,
Before he could repent of sin.
His wife and children's out of place,
His beasts and cattle they're almost lost,
His beasts and cattle they die away,
For ploughing on Old Christmas Day,
His beasts and cattle they die away,
For ploughing on Our Lord's birthday.
Cold blow the drops over my true love,
Cold blow the drops of rain,
I never, never had but one true love,
And in the grave he was lain.
I will do as much for my true love,
That any young woman may,
I will sit and I will weep all over his grave,
For a twelvemonth and one day.
When the twelvemonth and a day was past,
This young man he arose,
What makest thou weep all over my grave,
For I cannot take my repose?
One kiss, one kiss from your clay cold lips,
One kiss I wish and crave,
If I have one kiss from your clay cold lips,
You can turn back to your grave.
Go fetch me a knot from a dungeon deep,
And water from a stone,
And milk out of a fair maid's breast,
Where milk there never was none.
How can I fetch a knot from a dungeon deep?
How can I get water from a stone?
How can I get milk from a fair maid's breast.
Where milk there never was none?
Oh, it's all under the leaves and the leaves of life,
Where I saw maidens seven,
And it's one of those was Mary mild,
Was our King's mother from heaven.
Then I asked them what they were looking for,
All under the leaves of life,
I am looking for sweet Jesus Christ,
To be our heavenly guide.
Go you down, go you down to yonder town,
As far as you can see,
And there you will find sweet Jesus Christ,
With his body nailed to a tree.
Dear mother, dear mother do not weep for me,
Your weeping does me harm,
But John may be a comfort to you,
When I am dead and gone.
There's a rose, and a rose and a genteel rose,
The charm that grows so green,
God will give us grace in every mortal place,
For to pray to our heavenly Queen.
Thee shall die, my dumb friend,
And your soul go to rest,
And for kindness I'll shoot thee,
My bonny Black Bess.
Ne'er the toll bar could stop her,
Ne'er river express,
And for kindness I'll shoot thee,
My bonny Black Bess.
As I passed by a willow tree, willow tree,
That willow leaf blew down on me.
I picked it up, it would not break.
I passed my love, he would not speak.
Oh, speak, young man, and don't be shy, be shy,
I'm not a girl can pass you by,
For friends we met and friends we'll part,
Just take my hand but not my heart.
I wish your bosom was of glass, of glass,
That I could view it through and through,
Just view those secrets of your heart,
If I love one I can't love two.
Then give me back to the one I love, I love,
Oh, give, oh give him back to me,
If I only had that one I love,
How happy, happy should I be.
My love he is a sailor boy, sailor boy,
He sails the ocean through and through,
And when he gets so far away,
He hardly thinks no more of me.
Now give me back to the one I love, I love,
Oh give, oh give him back to me,
If I only had that one I love,
How happy, happy should I be.
Now as I was scarce only sweet eighteen,
Into the army I did engage.
I've left my parents, gone on the spree,
And joined the Royal Artillery.
As I was stationed one day on guard,
Three officers' children came there to play,
It's from his quarters my captain came,
He ordered me for to take the name.
I took the one, oh, but not the three,
The one I took dear it has grieved me,
My sergeant had me for neglect of two,
My sergeant's got a dislike for me.
My loaded rifle I then prepared,
To shoot my officer on the barrack square,
It was my officer I meant to kill,
I shot my captain against my will.
I've done the deed and I've shed his blood,
At Liverpool 'Sizes my trial stood,
Those judges and juries both said to me,
Prepare, young fellow, for the gallows swing.
Down to Ful'ood Barracks I then did go,
Just to serve my time in old depot,
Now the judges and juries both said to me,
Prepare, young fellow, for the gallows swing.
I have no father to take my part,
No loving mother what will break her heart,
I've only a girl and a friend is she,
She'll pawn her sweet life for young Caffery.
Where have you been all day, Henry, my son?
Where have you been all day, my beloved one?
In the fields, dear mother in the fields, dear mother,
Make my bed for I'm afraid in my heart,
And I want to lie down.
Where did you see your father, Henry, my son,
Where did you see your father, my beloved one?
In the fields, dear mother, in the fields, dear mother,
Make my bed for I'm afraid in my heart,
And I want to lie down.
What did your father give you, Henry, my Son?
What did your father give you, my beloved one?
Water, dear mother, water, dear mother,
Make my bed for I'm afraid in my heart,
And I want to lie down.
What shall I give your father, Henry, my son?
What shall I give your father, my beloved one?
A rope to hang him, a rope to hang him,
Make my bed, for I'm afraid in my heart,
And I want to lie down.
Where shall I make your bed, Henry, my son?
Where shall I make your bed, my beloved one?
In the churchyard, dear mother, in the churchyard, dear mother,
Make my bed for I'm afraid in my heart,
And I want to lie down.
How shall I make your bed, Henry, my son?
How shall I make your bed, my beloved one?
Long and narrow, long and narrow,
Make my bed for I'm afraid in my heart,
And I want to lie down - for ever.
It's of a comely lady fair
Was walking out for to take the air.
She met a sailor by the way,
So I made attention,
So I made attention to hear what he did say.
Said William, 'Lady why roam alone?
The night is dark and the day near gone'
She said, while tears from her eyes did fall,
'It's my dark-eyed sailor,
'It's my dark-eyed sailor that's proved my downfall'.
'It's two long years since he left the land,
And I took the gold ring from off my hand,
We broke the token, here's a part with me,
And the other's rolling,
And the other's rolling at the bottom of the sea'.
Said William, 'Drive him from your mind,
Some other sailor as good you'll find,
Love turns aside and so do grow,
Like a winter's morning,
Like a winter's morning when the land is covered with snow'.
These words did Phoebe's fond heart inflame,
She said, 'On me you shall play no game',
She drew a dagger and then did cry,
'For my dark-eyed sailor,
For my dark-eyed sailor a maid I'll live and die'.
'His coal black eyes and his curly hair,
His 'mazing tongue did my heart ensnare,
Genteel he was, not a rake like you,
To advise a maiden,
To advise a maiden to slight a jacket blue'.
'But still' said Phoebe, 'I'll ne'er disdain,
A tarry sailor treat the same,
So drink his health, here's a piece of coin,
For my dark-eyed sailor,
For my dark-eyed sailor still holds this heart of mine'.
Then half the ring did young William show,
She seemed distracted 'midst joy and woe,
'Oh welcome, William, I've land and gold,
For my dark-eyed sailor,
For my dark-eyed sailor so manly, true and bold'.
Then in a village down by the sea,
They joined in wedlock and well agree,
So maids be true when your love's away,
For a cloudy morning,
For a cloudy morning brings forth a sunny day.
A damsel possessed of great beauty
She stood by her father's gate.
The gallant hussars were on duty
To view them this maiden did wait.
Their horses were capering and prancing,
Their accoutrements shone like a star,
From the plains they were nearest advancing,
She spied the gallant hussar.
'Twas there she conversed with her soldier,
And thus he was heard to say-ay,
Said Jane, 'I have seen none no bolder,
To follow my laddy away'.
For twelve months on bread and cold water,
My parents confined me for you-ou,
Hard hearted friends to their daughter,
Whose heart it is loyal and true.
Unless they confine me for ever,
Or banish me from you afar,
I will follow my soldier so clever,
And wed with my gallant hussar.
So now they're united together,
Friends think of them now they're afar-ar,
Kind heaven bless now and forever,
Young Jane and her gallant hussar.
When your apples been all garnered
And your mangol' harvest's due,
When your cider mashing's over
And your womenfolk come home,
It sets my heart a-ticking,
Like the ticking of a clock,
When the frost is on the pumpkin,
And the fodder's in the shock.
Oh the husky, rusky, tussle,
Of the husky, rusky corn,
I shall see the ploughshire shining,
From the headland in the morn,
And it'll set my heart a-ticking,
Like the ticking of a clock,
When the frost is on the pumpkin
And the fodder's in the shock.
Oh the canking of the gander,
As he leads his mighty flock,
The stepping and the stamping,
Of the strutting turkey cock,
It sets my heart a-ticking,
Like the ticking of a clock,
When the frost is on the pumpkin,
And the fodder's in the shock.