Collected from the singing of: Costello, Celia; England: Birmingham; 1967
A transcription from YouTube by John Baxter 2/8/2022
Farewell to home and to all those I love
Sadly the parting grieves me
These words may be the last you will hear
For I'm leaving this dear old land
Though I have failed in the land that I love
Still I've the world before me
And my hopes speed high, so once more goodbye
Give me a grip of your hand
I’ve made up my mind to sail away,
Sail away, sail away.
I don’t mean to waste another day,
I’ll find luck somewhere.
In our colonies I mean to try.
Yes I’ll try, do or die.
For a time I shall stay but I'll come back some day
And I may be a millionaire
Though I may go from the land that I love
My heart I leave behind me
Sweetheart I shall be thinking of you
When far from my country's shore
Love, something tells me that I'm bound to succeed
If you'll be faithful to me
Soon, across the main, I'll come back again
Then we shall part never more
Cecilia Costello sang a fragment of this song for song collectors Pam Bishop and Charles Parker in 1967. It was originally a hit for Tom Costello in the early 1900s and was the first major success for songwriter Bennett Scott. He wrote both the words and music for this one by himself, but he would later have many hits providing music for lyrics by AJ Mills.
Emigration ballads could always move an audience in the Halls, probably because so many would have friends or family who were fleeing poverty at home to seek opportunities abroad. Other examples include The Black sheep of the family (1909) and The Miners dream of home (1891). You find more like this in my selection of songs on Emigration and empire.
Collected from the singing of: Payne, Ernie; England: Avon; 1979 Smith, Tom; England: Suffolk; 1960s
Transcribed from the singing of Tom Smith by John Howson
(Full copy of sheet music not accessed yet!)
I'm a copper and I know my book:
You can tell it by my saucy look.
I go prowling round the houses,
Dusting the seats of the loud boys' trousers.
Til the other night, while on my beat,
I saw two chaps what-ho!
They were arguing about a gold watch they'd nicked,
But it of course they did not know...
That I was there a-watching them,
I was there a-watching them.
While they were arguing I drew my staff,
I caught them in the chivvy, well it made them laugh!
And then they bolted, it was a pantomime.
Now I've got a gold ticker and it's worth ten quid,
Because I was there a-watching all the time.
Once a cookie, down upon my beat,
Used to feed me up with her old meat.
All at once I found she stopped it:
I used to wonder why she stopped it.
'Til one night down the eerie steps
I crept quite silently.
But she didn't know, as she sat there
With a soldier on her knee...
That I was there a-watching them,
I was there a-watching them.
For down in the kitchen I could see my dear,
Giving all the mutton to the fusilier.
Then, oh, good gracious, it was a pantomime:
Now 1 know what the cookie did with her cold meat,
'Cos I was there a-watching all the time.
At the break-of-promise case one day,
I was giving evidence all day.
How the defendant looked quite puzzled
When I described how they cuddled.
'How the Dickens do you know?'
Said the old judge with a frown.
I said, 'Sir the house is on my beat,
And the blinds were not pulled down!'
And I was there a-watching them,
I was there a-watching them.
Take my tip, sir, the fun was nice,
I saw him kiss the lady in the same place twice.
Oh, good gracious, it was a pantomime!
But the rest of the evidence I'm not going to tell,
Though I was there a-watching all the time.
Another song from the 1890s remembered by traditional performers in the late 20th century. It was written by the prolific AJ Mills in collaboration with FW Carter. It was a hit for Harry Ford whose brief biography appears below.
Lewis Winstock in his book Songs and Music of the Redcoats, draws on memoirs and other sources to show that songs from the Halls were widely sung by British soldiers fighting in the South African War of 1899-1902. According to the memoirs of Major G Tylden, Watchin ’em was a very popular song amongst the Yeomanry, who appear to have sung at the end of the second verse:
Down in the kitchen I saw my dear, Perched on the knee of a Grenadier
Songs and Music of the Redcoats, p244
Harry Ford (real name: HWJ Comerford, 1874-1955) was son to a printer (his Father) and boot machinist (mother). He was a juvenile performer, for three years from age 10 he took minor parts in the pantomime at the Elephant and Castle, whilst earning a pittance as a call boy- a stagehand who alerted actors of their entrances during a performance. He made his Music Hall debut at The Middlesex, Drury Lane aged 13 and worked steadily in both the provinces and London throughout the 1890s. He started achieving real success in around 1897 when he was given his first major pantomime role in Aladdin at Brighton’s Eden Theatre. By 1900 he was often appearing “top of the bill” and his success continued until the outbreak of war in 1914. He made several successful tours of South Africa. In the 1920s he appeared in a number of revues, but his popularity seemed to decline. On leaving the stage in the 1930s he ran a tobacconist business.
Collected from the singing of: Bentall, Brenda; England; 1970
There were pipers playing in the morning,
And the sound came over hill and dell,
As a Highland lad in his tartan plaid
Wished a lassie dear farewell.
Tho' any heart is sore, I'm bound to leave you
For there's fighting o'er the sea,
But I will remember the lassie
That I leave beside the Dee.
Hear the pipers calling Jenny mine,
See the boys are falling into line.
Wear the ribbon that I gave you
Just for auld lang syne.
Though your heart be weary do not sigh
I shall come back deairie by and bye,
And I'll kiss your tears away,
When I meet you coming through the rye.
Home again once more the boys are marching,
While the sounds of cheering fill the air,
And the lass with joy, sees her own dear boy
'Mongst the war worn soldiers there.
When the day is done and the twilights falling,
In a field of waving rye,
They meet once again and recall there
Tender words of days gone by.
An early 20th century sentimental Music Hall song written by the prolific AJ Mills and Bennett Scott and performed in the Halls by Madge Lessing.
It was collected by Roy Palmer from the singing of Brenda Bentall- the recording is available on the British library Sound archive site.
Tommy Tiddler Has anybody seen my tiddler A song about a little fish
First Published
1910
Writer/composer
AJ Mills and FW Carter
Roud
RN13330
Music Hall Performers
Millie Payne
Folk performances
Collected from the singing of: Tarling, Jack; England: Suffolk, 1995 Belton, George; England: Sussex, 1969
I've been a fishing with some boys today
Fished in the little pond that's down our way
I stood like so, and soon you know
I caught a little tiddler with a nice soft row
Oh how it wriggled in the jam-jar
There were tears in it's eyes of blue
Now I'm unhappy 'cos I've lost it
So excuse me for asking you.
Has anybody seen my tiddler?
Tiddle, iddle, iddle, iddle, iddler
I caught that little fish with some cotton and a pin
Oh how I laughed when I dragged him in
But coming home, Oh dear oh
That rude boy Dicky Diddler
He poked his fingers in my galipot
And pinched my tiddler.
Young Dicky Diddler who was by my side
Stirred up the water and the fish all guyed
And you can bet, I was upset
When Dicky pushed me in the pond, my socks got wet
I said 'I'm going to tell your Father
And we'll soon be on equal terms'
He called me names to get his own back
And he collared all my worms.
Soon as the tiddler came and took my hook
Young Dicky Diddler gave an envious look
I laughed Ha, Ha, but he went 'Yah'
And tried to kick the bottom out of my jam-jar
He said he'd follow me to my street
And he stuck to me just like glue
All of a sudden tho' I missed him
And I missed my tiddler too
A song full of double entendres written by AJ Mills and FW Carter, published by Mills’ firm Star Publishing. It was a huge hit for Millie Payne.
It was remembered and sung by several traditional singers in the south of England. You can hear George Belton and audience singing it on the British Library Sound Archive site
Managers of early 20th century music halls had to tread a fine line between the desire to please the audience and the need to attract middle-class audiences and therefore appear respectable. The story of this song illustrates this tension… At the time the song was first published, both performer and publisher were clearly very aware of the nature of their song and adverts would begin with the suggestion that if you saw anything rude it was your own filthy mind, claiming that this was only “a song about a little fish”. Here’s one example of many:
The Era – Saturday 17 September 1910
A few years later, in 1913 the song was described as “indecent” in court, prompting Millie Payne to publish a densely worded half-page Open Letter in The Encore which in 12 bullet points refuted the alleged suggestion that the song was “not fit to be sung in public”. The open letter argued that the song had been performed for many years without complaint and ended once again by suggesting that “to the pure all things are pure!”. The decency or otherwise of the song was not central to the court cases, and as far as I can tell the judge did not describe the song as being “not fit to be sung in public” so its hard not to see this as opportunistic publicity to boost a song already a few years old.
One case in which the song was mentioned involved Walter Gibbons, one-time booking manager for a group of Halls trading as London Theatre of Varieties. He was trying to retrieve money he felt owed by his former employers. At the same time case of unfair dismissal was being pursued against the same firm by Charles Read, former booking manager for the Brixton Hill hall. During the two cases both Gibbons’ and Read’s reputations came under attack- they were accused of demanding bribes in return for lucrative booking contracts and of allowing inappropriate repertoire be performed. During Charles Read’s case the following exchange took place:
Collected from the singing of: Jones, Frank; England: Birmingham; 1984 Modern performances Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain
Once a little German girl lonely and sad,
Came to merry England from her Fatherland.
Looking for her sweetheart whose front name was Fritz,
And he played the Trombone in some German Band:
She searched round the City by night and by day.
And asked ev'ry one on the way.
Has any one seen a German Band?
German Band, German Band.
I've been looking about all upon my own.
I've searched ev'ry street both near and far,
Near and far, yah, yah, yah.
I want my Fritz, vot plays twiddly bits
On der big trombone.
"Fritz was very fond of me," Katrina said.
"When he was in Germany over the seas;
And he used to come round to mine Fader's house,
He'd make love and eat all our Limburcheese.
He'd serenade me with 'The watch on the Rhine',
And I thought his trombone divine."
"Perhaps you wonder why I am over here now."
Said the little Katrina. "I'll tell you true.
There's another girl and she's stolen my Fritz,
She gives him sweet kisses, and saurkrout too;
But wait till I meet him, I'll get back mine own,
I'll jump two times on his trombone."
An early 20th century Music Hall song collected from the singing of Frank Jones by Roy Palmer, which can be heard in the British Library Sound Archive.
Another from the alarmingly prolific AJ Mills and Bennett Scott. Described by its publishers as “the chorus song of the year” in 1907, Has anyone seen a German band was most famously sung in the Halls by both Florrie Forde and Ella Retford. A multitude of other performers sang it in pantomime. It was later a popular song amongst British troops in the First World War.
German bands were groups of street musicians (usually but not always German) that were a feature of British life in the second half of the 19th century. They tended to play polkas, waltzes and other dances – they were often derided for playing “oompah” music. This is reflected in this comic song, where apart from the mild xenophobia, much of the comedy relies on the musical accompaniment…
Collected from the singing of: Scott, Harry; England ; Bedfordshire, 1946-68 Alice Kane recalled singing this song as a child in Ulster in the early 20th century
Joe was in love with sweet Mabel
And Dame Rumour said he was anxious to wed
But somehow he never felt able
To speak when his loved one was nigh
He'd blush like a rose when he met her
And over each word he would stammer absurd
But once in the form of a letter
He thought for her heart he'd apply
So straight way he wrote this business like note
'Darling Mabel, now I'm able
To buy the happy home
Since they've raised my screw, love
I've enough for two, love
Will you marry, do not tarry
Answer yes or no
I conclude with love and kisses
Yours for ever, Joe'
Joe, for his sweet Mabel's answer
Would wait on the mat for the postman's rat-tat
And wonder if she'd say 'I can't, sir'
Or promise to be his own wife
He waited six months, and got thinner
He'd sob and he'd sigh and would pipe his blue eye
Would go without breakfast or dinner
In fact, he felt tired of his life
In dreams he would quote that letter he wrote ..
The sequel I haste to be stating
For truth now to tell, Mabel loved him quite well
Then why did she keep the chap waiting
The answers as plain as can be,
His life he'd determined to end it
When in his old coat he discovered the note
Somehow he'd forgotten to send it
He rushed off to Mabel with glee
Their Wedding's today, for he found pluck to say ..
A sentimental mildly comic song by AJ Mills and Bennett Scott, performed by Leonard Barry (see short biography below). It was remembered by a handful of traditional performers in the second half of the 20th century.
The song seems to have been a big hit in the 1890s. According to Lewis Winstock it was widely sung by soldiers of the British Yeomanry in the South African wars of 1899 to 1902. Angela Thirkell was taught the song has a child by her nurse in the 1890s.
Not to be confused with an earlier song of the same title by WP Chase, which can be found in the Levy collection.
I have not been able to find out much about the performer, Leonard Barry. According to IMBD he was born in 1869. His appearances in The Era suggest that was a very popular performer in pantomimes and Music Hall between the mid-1890s and the late 1920s – by which time he had appeared as an actor in several British films . The most complete description I have found comes from an article published in 1956 by Monty Carew, describing Barry as:
a great singer of chorus songs.. given to singing his songs more quietly than most of his colleagues. The original singer of many favourite ditties, his best remembered are: The Fatal Wedding and Darling Mabel. He died on January 14, 1940 after a long retirement from the Halls
Collected from the singing of: Green, Charles; England : Yorkshire; 1971 Modern performances The chorus features in a number of sing-along Scottish medleys
Sing a song of Bonnie Scotland
Written and composed by AJ Mills and Bennett Scott. Sung by Miss Lily Morris
From Sheet Music Published in Weekly Despatch (1913)
Far away on lonely prairie land
As the night-time shadows grow
Sat a rough but merry crowd of men,
Singing all the songs they new,
Till the fiddler stopped his merry tune;
And turning around said he,
To a Hieland laddie standing by,
Just awa' from old Dundee.
Sing us a song of Bonnie Scotland.
Any old song will do.
Round the old camp fire.
A rough and ready choir.
Join in the chorus too.
"You take the High Road and I'll take the Low,
Is a song that we all know.
Twill remind the boys of Bonnie Scotland
Where the Heather and bluebells grow"
Soon a hush fell on the miners camp
As the rough and ready throng
Waited for that stalward laddie there
To begin that old Scotch song.
But the boy was dreaming, all the while
Of Scotland his native shore
And a Bonnie lassie he loved well
Till the words he heard once more -
"Won't you sing Loch Lomond for the boys?"
Said the fiddler, "and I'll play.
Give us Bonnie Mary of Argyll
Or that sweet song Robin Gray
I can tell your heart is feeling sad
But cheer up and do not pine
For some day luck may come your way,
So tonight for Auld Lang Syne"-
A song in praise of Scotland with words by AJ Mills of Surrey, England. It was performed in the Music Halls and pantomimes by Lily Morris , a particular favourite of Glasgow audiences. It was in 1971 collected by Ian Russell from the singing of Charles Green in Sheffield, Yorkshire.
The chorus is still sung today, usually to hold together a sing-along medley of well-known Scottish songs. Search well-known streaming services if you are interested. Lily Morris doesn’t seem to have recorded it, but here’s a contemporary recording by Stanley Kirby:
Collected from the singing of: Goodchild, James; England : Hampshire, 1976 “Hoodeners” in Kent, no date
The other night I journey'd with some dear old pals of mine,
Into a little pub, a small harmonic club;
A fellow there who thought himself a singer, if you please,
Tried to sing "The Anchor's Weighed" in thirteen different keys.
We cried "Encore," told him he was fine,
Just because he bought us lots of wine
At half past twelve, a little bit insane,
Sixteen good boys made for home again.
All along the rails — what a lively gang!
Shouting out the chorus of every song we sang,
We laughed, we chaffed, and told some fairy tales;
Playing the harp at two in the morning all along the rail
I acted as leader, for I thought I knew my way,
So shouted out with "Now boys, you follow me."
We came across a policeman who was having forty winks
Tried to sneak his helmet and to make him toss for drinks.
We'd no gamps so for nearly half an hour,
We tramped and tramped all through a lovely shower.
When all at once I tumbled, I declare,
We'd walked fifteen times around a square.
I clutched hold of some railings that were painted overnight,
Got covered all serene with such a lovely green,
The servant girl was waiting up, the saucy little sains;
I cuddled her, and marked her cotton dress with spots of paint.
The wife found out, here was a row of course.
Sacked our girl, and said she'd have a divorce,
But afterwards I made it right, What ho!
And swore a swear that never more I'd go.
A song from the repertoire of a comedian who seemed to specialise in drinking songs, Charles Deane. It was written by the alarmingly prolific AJ Mills with FW Carter and was a hit in 1889 in the Halls and pantomimes.
The Era – Saturday 27 August 1898
The song has been incorporated into the traditional songs sung by “Hoodeners” in Kent and Steve Roud recorded James Goodchild singing a fragment (the chorus) in 1976:
Charles Oswell (Mohawk Minstrels), Banks Winter (Thatcher, Primrose and West Minstrels)
Folk performances
Collected from the singing of: H., Mrs. F; USA : Massachusetts, 1916 Unknown, USA : Oklahoma : 1917 Tanner, Ada; England : Oxfordshire, 1926 Wilbur, Mrs. Marie; USA : Missouri, 1927 Unknown, USA : Michigan, 1930 Laurenson, Bruce; Scotland : Shetland Isles, 1947 Young, Berton; Canada : Nova Scotia, 1952 Decker, (Mrs.) Glasscock, Darrell, USA : Wyoming : 1957 Hartley, Stella, Canada : Saskatchewan, 1959 Hart, Bob, England : Suffolk, 1969 Hinchliffe, Frank, England : Yorkshire, 1970 Ford, Amy; England : Somerset ; 1973 Messenger, Alice; England : Suffolk ; 1975-80 Dowdy, Douglas; England : Hampshire ; 1982
WHITE WINGS.
Copyright, 1884, by Willis Woodward & Co.
Written and sung by Banks Winter.
Sail! home, as straight as an arrow.
My yacht shoots along on the crest of the sea;
Sail! home, to sweet Maggie Darrow,
In her dear little home she is waiting for me.
High up! where the cliffs they are craggy,
That's where the girl of my heart waits for me!
Heigh! ho, I long for you, Maggie,
I'll spread out my White Wings and sail home to thee.
Yo! ho, how we go! oh, how the winds blow!
White Wings, they never grow weary.
They carry me cheerily over the sea;
Night comes, I long for my dearie,
I'll spread out my White Wings, and sail home to thee.
Sail! home, to love and caresses,
When Maggie, my darling, is there at my side;
Sail! home, blue eyes and gold tresses,
The fairest of all is my own little bride.
Sail! home, to part from thee never,
Always together life's voyage shall be;
Sail! home, to love thee forever!
I'll spread out my White Wings and sail home to thee.
Yo! ho, how we go! oh, how the winds blow!
A sentimental song widely collected from traditional singers on both sides of the Atlantic.
It was regularly performed on the Music Hall stage in the 1880s and 90s by a variety of performers but it was originally written and performed in America by blackface minstrel singer Banks Winter. According to Turner and Miall, Winter bought the rights to the song from Joseph Gullick, before substantially rewriting the words and music and republishing it under his own name.
The song became hugely popular both in Britain and the United States, it was widely published both as official sheet music , and in cheap street literature. In Britain it was perhaps most associated with the singing of Charles Oswell, a performer with the Mohawk Minstrels. The song was widely parodied by Music Hall and minstrel entertainers.
The song might be dismissed as a polite middle-class parlour ballad, but it was hugely popular amongst working class audiences. In researching this song I found this interesting eyewitness account of the ballad being sung by miners in Fife in the early 20th century. It was written by American journalist and social reformer Kellogg Durland (fuller versions of his accounts can be found at scottishmining.co.uk):
One of the bottomers, whose business it was to pull the empty hutches from the cages as they reached the bottom and push on the full ones, had a famous tenor voice and to hear his clear musical notes ringing out with distinct sweetness above the crunching, jarring rattle that never ceased for a moment was not to be forgotten. The one-time popular ballad, “White Wings,” thus sung, seemed to express a certain longing for an outlook on a broader world than they, poor cramped miners, knew aught of, as if an innate something was feeling the narrowness of its life and cried out for a boundless freedom. In the abysmal depths of the Aitken Pit 800 men are working out their lives. Their work is labour that costs hard sweat, and though they feel themselves slaves of the lamp …. they extract as much joy from life as they may … the great bottomer sang the words:
Sail home! as straight as an arrow My yacht shoots along on the crest of the sea. High up where cliffs they are craggy, There’s where the girl of my heart waits for me.
Then came the deep-throated chorus from the crowd of rough workers, fairly drowning the boisterous noise of the pit :-
White wings, they never grow weary, They carry me cheerily over the sea ; Night comes, I long for my dearie, I’ll spread out my white wings and sail home to thee.
The song ended, the roar of iron goes on till the signal is given from the pit-head.
Collected from the singing of: Fellows, Sid; England : Suffolk; mid-1960s
I'll tell you the tale of the pirate team,
They're the very worst players that ever were seen;
It all occurred on a patch of green,
At a football match last Saturday.
We started away from the town all gay,
Each member he was ready for the fray;
We swore we'd win or die that day,
At the football match last Saturday.
We reached the ground at half past two,
The crowd it numbered a thousand or two,
We said "We'll show them what we can do"
At the football match last Saturday.
To be funny with me our captain tried,
I threw him on his back and there he lied;
Then I kicked him on his ... offside,
At the football match last Saturday.
The Referee "Upon my soul,
I took that man for a telegraph pole,"
So I took his trousers for the goal,
At the football match last Saturday.
We started the game with the wind at our backs,
Our opponents they led all the attacks,
Which fairly gave our captain the wax,
At the football match last Saturday
Just then we commenced to play very fine,
The ball was just going over the line
The Referee whistled and called "half-time"
At the football match last Saturday.
The interval was welcome – true
We ate ice cream and Irish stew,
And Elliman's embrocation too,
At the football match last Saturday.
As soon as we began the second half,
The crowd they all began to laugh,
Said one "Lor' Lumme! Just look at his calf"
At the football match last Saturday
I thought I'd make a name of renown
I shouted out "That's my touchdown"
Somebody touched me for half a crown,
At the football match last Saturday.
The crowd then shouted "Play up, all"
But we could not respond to their call,
We found somebody had pinched the ball,
At the football match last Saturday.
Our supporters were there, all staunch and true.
The result was thirty goals to two;
The air for miles around went blue,
At the football match last Saturday.
The Referee so kind and true,
We kicked him till he was black and blue,
He lost his watch and his giblets too,
At the football match last Saturday
That put all our team in a funk,
So they went to the pub and got paralytic drunk,
The treasurer he with the money did a bunk
From the football match last Saturday.
We went to the dressing room and what you suppose:
We found somebody had sneaked our clothes,
Who got them, goodness only knows,
At the football match last Saturday.
We all got keepsakes from our foes,
There's one man's ear, there is another man's nose;
We all walked home in nature's clothes,
From the football match last Saturday
A version of this song was collected in the mid-1960s by Neil Lanham from the singing of Sid Fellows. It features on the Helions Bumpstead CD Lavenham.
The song was originally written and performed in the late 1890s by the music hall comic Mark Sheridan (see his brief biography below). It was also performed in Britain by the Scottish comedian Jock Whiteford, and in Australia by Horace Wheatley.
A letter to the editor of The Era from the Welsh comedian NC Bostock challenged Sheridan’s right to use the title, as he had been singing a different song called At the football match last Saturday since 1892. (The Era, 17 April 1897)
Mark Sheridan (1864-1918) was a huge star in the Halls and pantomimes of the late 19th and early 20th century. He was born of Scottish and Irish parents in County Durham and worked originally on the Sunderland docks before taking up a job in the office of a Newcastle theatre. He didn’t work in the office for long and his early successes in Newcastle were followed by tours of Australia and South Africa, before establishing himself as a major star in London in the mid-1890s. His most famous song today is probably I do like to be beside the seaside but he performed and recorded many other songs. He seemed to have suffered from mental health difficulties and sadly he committed suicide at the age of 53. A more extensive biography can be found in the archived website marksheridan.org.
At the football match last Saturday sung by Mark Sheridan:
