AKA | The Ghost Song |
First Published | 1888 |
Writer/composer | M. Cavanagh / Walter Hastings | Roud | RN10700 |
Music Hall Performers | Henri Clark |
Folk performances | Source Singers Hancy. Charlie, 1960s/70s England : Suffolk Modern performances |
I went down to the Rose and Crown stopped there till I got tight The Potman came and turned me out, I bade my friends 'Good Night' The nearest way home was to go right through the old church-yard No other chap would come with me, I thought this rather hard Whilst walking 'midst the old grave stones I heard a noise close by I turned, Oh Lor, a dozen ghosts in white met my eye My hair stood up, my knees gave way, they filled me with alarm For each ghost had a coffin lid tucked underneath his arm. Some of the ghosts were short and some of the ghosts were tall There they sat in a ghostly row on top of the church-yard wall They all gave a loud Ha, Ha, they all gave a loud Ho, Ho I tried to wish them all 'Good night' but they would not let me go. One of the ghosts began to speak, down on my knees I sank 'I am a cabman's ghost,' said he, 'But now I'm off the rank. I never minded rain or snow, I laughed at mud and slush Each fare that I picked up I used to have upon the 'rush' And if they dared to grumble, why, I used to cuss and swear And once and only once I charged a man the proper fare I even touched my hat to him, no 'extra' did I crave But when I come to think of it, I can't rest in my grave. Another ghost commenced, 'Once on a time I would get tight I turned 'tea-total' and in fact a staunch 'blue ribbonite' I used to drink 'tea-total' drinks (The other ghosts here laughed) But I was settled on that ginger beer they sell on draught They held an inquest on me, such a course was only right The Jury gave their verdict in that I deserved it quite Now when you start to wear the 'blue' and give the booze the 'sack' It won't be long before your friends will have to wear the black.' A railway servants ghost was there, who soon began to speak 'I used to earn the splendid sum of eighteen bob a week They made us work like negroes, and we could not do a 'shirk' The workhouse was before us, when we got to old to work One day the foreman told me that I was to have a rise I fell down in a fit, brought on by wonder and surprise The shock had been too much for me, for help they quickly ran But when they raised me up I was as dead as good Queen Anne.' A lawyer's ghost stood on the wall and then commenced to state 'I rise to plead the noble cause, the cause of six and eight.' The other ghosts get mad with rage, would not hear him at all They threw their coffin lids at him and knocked him off the wall What followed next I can't remember, somehow very well Next day when I awoke I found myself locked in a cell I went before the Magistrate, on me he fixed his gaze 'Found in a church-yard beastly drunk, we'll give you fourteen days.'
A late 19th century Music Hall song remembered almost a hundred years later in the pubs of Suffolk. In the Halls it was a hit for Henri Clark in the late 1880s and it very quickly became a popular song amongst amateur singers.
Gavin Atkins sings it:
Sources:
- Entries in the Roud Indexes at the Vaughn Williams Memorial Library: https://archives.vwml.org/search/all:single[folksong-broadside-books]/0_50/all/score_desc/extended-roudNo_tr%3A10700
- Kilgarrif Sing Us
- Lyrics: monologues.co.uk
- Mudcat thread
- WorldCat entry
Last Updated on December 9, 2020 by John Baxter | Published: December 9, 2020