#AFolkSongAFortnight No.4: The Fourteenth of February
This project didn't take of as I'd hoped last year – my inclination towards deep research provided a something of a drag anchor, but what has really locked the whole endeavour in ice has been months of unexpected and unpleasant dental work. I'm hopefully through the worst of that now, and am keen to resume (albeit in a slightly lighter-touch format).
Even in its stop-start format to date, this project has navigated by the calendar – gravitating to songs linked to dates, customs or seasons. Accordingly, having decided on the weekend of 14 February for the re-boot, I scoured my ballad-books and LPs for songs that reference Valentine's day. Pickings were unexpectedly meagre, with a mere three pieces emerging.
I had high hopes for 'Valentine's Chant/Good Morrow to You, Valentine/Good Morning Valentine' (Roud 1142), collected widely including by Cecil Sharp and Alfred Williams; but rather than a tender, romantic verse with a joyful tune, it turns out to be a tale of a young cad who evades his pledge of marriage by eloping for a life at sea. Frank Kidson, in his 1891 volume Traditional Tunes, was so unimpressed that he refused to publish the entire song, writing:
"The reader must be content with the first verse; the whole song is poor doggerel."
An older variant, despite being referenced by Ophelia in Shakespeare's Hamlet, is even less edifying - with a disagreeably bawdy lyric full of innuendo likely to have felt laboured and predictable even in the 17th Century. The Oxford Waits rendition can be heard here. There's a more palatable version by English Tapestry on this 1971 compilation, sadly only running to a single verse.
Next up is 'Last Valentine's Day' (Roud 6475), which - contrary to the title - is about fox hunting; the most notable recorded version can be found on the 1973 debut LP by Swan Arcade, who drew if from John and Lucy Broadwood's 1890 collection Sussex Songs (Popular Songs of Sussex). Other versions have been recorded by Bob Lewis and the Wilson Family. I'm not ruling out a future blog on hunting songs, but feel disinclined to explore the music of that loathsome pastime on this particular occasion...
This leaves 'The Fourteenth of February' - which also defies expectation somewhat, by recounting a maritime encounter with pirates. Its alternative, and perhaps more widespread title is 'The Bold Princess Royal' (Roud 528). Frank Purslow outlines the history of the tale in his 1965 collection Marrow Bones:
At daybreak on 21 June 1789, HM packet Princess Royal, nine days out from Falmouth on her way to New York (other accounts say Halifax) carrying mail, was accosted and pursued by a brig which was later identified as the French privateer Aventurier. At 7 pm the Aventurier hoisted English colours and fired a shot, which the Princess Royal returned. After a further shot, the brig continued the pursuit. It was not until 3.30 am on 22 June that the Aventurier resumed its attack, this time with a broadside and musket fire. The Princess Royal was outmanned, with a crew of thirty-two men and boys with seventeen passengers as opposed to the Aventurier's 85 men and boys; and out-gunned too, with six cannons against the brig's sixteen. Nevertheless, the English ship gave a good account of herself, holding the privateer off for two hours; at the end of which time the Aventurier moved away, sustaining further damage to her stern. The French ship was obliged to return to Bordeaux for refitting, while the Princess Royal resumed her course, eventually arriving home on 31 October.
If, as seems likely, this is the event that gave rise to our song, then it is a mystery why the broadside writer has toned down the story instead of embellishing it. Perhaps the full details were not immediately available; it is otherwise hard to see why a dramatic engagement should have become merely an account of a successful escape.
The Mainly Norfolk entry on this seafaring ballad is extremely comprehensive, and I commend you to it for a detailed summary of many of the recorded versions. That page quotes Rob Stradling noting 115 collected instances in the Roud index, over half from England and the majority of these from coastal counties, especially Norfolk and Suffolk.
Two notable variants stand out - a strange, wistful, borderline-lament captured by Bob Copper in 1954, from Hastings lifeboatman Ned 'Wintry' Adams. The best-none recording of this version is undoubtedly that by Lou Killen on the seminal 1964 Topic sea-song compilation Farewell Nancy.
An altogether jauntier and more jubilant version exists widely in source recordings - including by East Anglian titans Bob Hart, Sam Larner and Harry Cox (This tune bears some resemblance to my favourite strain of 'Flash Company', which I may revisit in a future blog). Unable to resist the weight of his own local sonic heritage, Peter Bellamy recorded 'The Fourteenth of February' on his debut solo LP, 1968's Mainly Norfolk.
The Adams/Killen version is magnificent, but some way beyond my technical and storytelling capabilities at present (if I make steady headway with the project, perhaps I'll be in a position to tackle it in February 2023...!). Though itself not exactly straightforward to sing (there are some rapid fluctuations within lines, and some 'sharp corners' to navigate) the Larner/Bellamy version has an urgency that makes it an easier proposition as a novice singer, and so - by a steady process of elimination from the narrow field of runners and riders above, and to shamelessly tailgate the TikTok-driven vogue for sea songs - it's the one I've recorded this week. I'm posting just to get it out there, but may re-record the track as I think I can improve on the first take.
I had high hopes for 'Valentine's Chant/Good Morrow to You, Valentine/Good Morning Valentine' (Roud 1142), collected widely including by Cecil Sharp and Alfred Williams; but rather than a tender, romantic verse with a joyful tune, it turns out to be a tale of a young cad who evades his pledge of marriage by eloping for a life at sea. Frank Kidson, in his 1891 volume Traditional Tunes, was so unimpressed that he refused to publish the entire song, writing:
"The reader must be content with the first verse; the whole song is poor doggerel."
An older variant, despite being referenced by Ophelia in Shakespeare's Hamlet, is even less edifying - with a disagreeably bawdy lyric full of innuendo likely to have felt laboured and predictable even in the 17th Century. The Oxford Waits rendition can be heard here. There's a more palatable version by English Tapestry on this 1971 compilation, sadly only running to a single verse.
Next up is 'Last Valentine's Day' (Roud 6475), which - contrary to the title - is about fox hunting; the most notable recorded version can be found on the 1973 debut LP by Swan Arcade, who drew if from John and Lucy Broadwood's 1890 collection Sussex Songs (Popular Songs of Sussex). Other versions have been recorded by Bob Lewis and the Wilson Family. I'm not ruling out a future blog on hunting songs, but feel disinclined to explore the music of that loathsome pastime on this particular occasion...
This leaves 'The Fourteenth of February' - which also defies expectation somewhat, by recounting a maritime encounter with pirates. Its alternative, and perhaps more widespread title is 'The Bold Princess Royal' (Roud 528). Frank Purslow outlines the history of the tale in his 1965 collection Marrow Bones:
At daybreak on 21 June 1789, HM packet Princess Royal, nine days out from Falmouth on her way to New York (other accounts say Halifax) carrying mail, was accosted and pursued by a brig which was later identified as the French privateer Aventurier. At 7 pm the Aventurier hoisted English colours and fired a shot, which the Princess Royal returned. After a further shot, the brig continued the pursuit. It was not until 3.30 am on 22 June that the Aventurier resumed its attack, this time with a broadside and musket fire. The Princess Royal was outmanned, with a crew of thirty-two men and boys with seventeen passengers as opposed to the Aventurier's 85 men and boys; and out-gunned too, with six cannons against the brig's sixteen. Nevertheless, the English ship gave a good account of herself, holding the privateer off for two hours; at the end of which time the Aventurier moved away, sustaining further damage to her stern. The French ship was obliged to return to Bordeaux for refitting, while the Princess Royal resumed her course, eventually arriving home on 31 October.
If, as seems likely, this is the event that gave rise to our song, then it is a mystery why the broadside writer has toned down the story instead of embellishing it. Perhaps the full details were not immediately available; it is otherwise hard to see why a dramatic engagement should have become merely an account of a successful escape.
The Mainly Norfolk entry on this seafaring ballad is extremely comprehensive, and I commend you to it for a detailed summary of many of the recorded versions. That page quotes Rob Stradling noting 115 collected instances in the Roud index, over half from England and the majority of these from coastal counties, especially Norfolk and Suffolk.
Two notable variants stand out - a strange, wistful, borderline-lament captured by Bob Copper in 1954, from Hastings lifeboatman Ned 'Wintry' Adams. The best-none recording of this version is undoubtedly that by Lou Killen on the seminal 1964 Topic sea-song compilation Farewell Nancy.
An altogether jauntier and more jubilant version exists widely in source recordings - including by East Anglian titans Bob Hart, Sam Larner and Harry Cox (This tune bears some resemblance to my favourite strain of 'Flash Company', which I may revisit in a future blog). Unable to resist the weight of his own local sonic heritage, Peter Bellamy recorded 'The Fourteenth of February' on his debut solo LP, 1968's Mainly Norfolk.
The Adams/Killen version is magnificent, but some way beyond my technical and storytelling capabilities at present (if I make steady headway with the project, perhaps I'll be in a position to tackle it in February 2023...!). Though itself not exactly straightforward to sing (there are some rapid fluctuations within lines, and some 'sharp corners' to navigate) the Larner/Bellamy version has an urgency that makes it an easier proposition as a novice singer, and so - by a steady process of elimination from the narrow field of runners and riders above, and to shamelessly tailgate the TikTok-driven vogue for sea songs - it's the one I've recorded this week. I'm posting just to get it out there, but may re-record the track as I think I can improve on the first take.
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