BOTHY BALLADS: A LOOK AT AN ABERDONIAN PHENOMENON

BOTHY BALLADS: A LOOK AT AN ABERDONIAN PHENOMENON

Bob Elrick's article page

Bothy Ballads: A Look at an Aberdonian Phenomenon

Twa Heids
Och weel dae I mind in the days o' lang syne,
When I wis a laddie sae wee,
If ever I�d gand tae dae onything wrang
Ma mither wid lecture tae me,
She'd say tae me, "Bairn stay awa' frae the wimmin,
Or ye'll rue it the day ye begin."
So I never thocht twice aboot tak'n advice
For twa heids are better than yin!

Translated:
Oh well do I remember in days long ago
When I was a little lad,
If I ever tried to do anything wrong,
My mother would lecture to me,
She'd say to me, "Child stay away from the women
Or you'll regret it the day you begin."
So I never thought twice about taking advice
For two heads are better than one!

The above, like the Jeannie MacPherson song printed in the August newsletter, is a typical Scottish nonsense song where words were put to the music of well-known songs and sung as work songs, or just for fun. Most of these songs are sung unaccompanied by any musical instrument and are sung to music either from pipe tunes, jigs or reels. For those of you who attended the Burns Night Supper earlier this year, you may remember having heard me sing the above ditty as a sort of tribute to Rabbie and the sets of twins he sired. Although not strictly classed as a bothy ballad, it fits the idiom. The advice of the mother to stay away from women is echoed in many other bothy ballads and they were not only funny, but purported to give sage advice as well. Some were just totally nonsensical and fit the Celtic Mouth music idiom of "Puirt A beul," which was used as nothing more than to dance to. The words had little if any meaning at all and this style of music was also known as "Diddling." It was and is still common to both Scotland and Ireland.

But what, you may ask, is a bothy ballad anyway? What's a bothy? Why do I even care? Well part of the Society's purpose is to not only entertain, but to inform as well, and so here's where you find out about a unique Aberdonian folk culture, folks.

Bothy ballads originated in the northeast counties of Scotland, primarily Aberdeenshire, where farming was the primary occupation and plooboys (ploughboys) were plentiful. It was the bothy system on northeastern farms that served as a sort of folk-song incubator in the late Victorian and Edwardian days. The unmarried farm laborers were accommodated in stone-built outbuildings called bothies. After a bloody hard day in the fields behind the plough, these chiels (a chiel, pronounced cheel, is Aberdonian for lad or man) would spend a lot of their spare time making their own music, like playing fiddle, melodeon or pipes. Usually the farming scene itself often provided good material for satirical and comic invective, and new songs were composed commemorating the trials and tribulations of many gifted bothy chiels. It must be stated here that although these men were farm laborers they were not uneducated or illiterate and a lot of these songs were written down and archived in Aberdeen, which makes this gray, granite city a unique repository of a rich cultural heritage.

These landless laborers usually attended the feein� fairs and fee'd (hired on) for six-month stints. The lads feed on at such big farms as Castles of Auchry (the ch here is pronounced as eccchhh, a hard sound like clearing phlegm from the back of your throat), Drumgeldie, and the most famous, The Barnyards O'Delgaty. The latter farm became the subject of a famous bothy song and has been resurrected by the Old Blind Dogs, a folk (bothy!) band, also originating in Aberdeenshire. (The fiddle player, Johnny Hardie, hails from my father's home village of Strathdon.) They are a premier band, keeping bothy ballads alive and well with modern arrangements that truly enhance these colorful songs.

These modern musicians however don't have to live the hard, sometimes brutal life of the old time plooboys. As Ed Miller explained at one of his concerts, a lot of these songs came west with the Scots and the plooboy turned into the cooboy of the Old West. Both had one thing in common: tough days behind a plough (Scotland) or behind cows (US). Their music reflected their lifestyle and for the plooboys at least, it could be gey roch ye ken mon (very rough you know man). Their day started at 5 AM after a meal of brose -- the staple diet of oatmeal and boiling water, with which they had to make do three times a day, all washed down with a wee dram o whisky. Often because of this excess of oatmeal in their diet, many laborers came out with a kind of scurvy rash known as Scotch fiddle. (They should have taken advice from the limeys on how to avoid scurvy!)

Then they were kicked (sometimes literally) out of the bothy to yoke up their pair (Clydesdales usually) to the plough, behind which they spent their day. Of course, any and all farm work was performed by the bothy cheils, and all for the pitiful sum of $50 a year with free coal, meal and milk; but that only after they specialized either as a cattleman or the like. After the day was done and they retired to the bothy, they would often strike up a tune, or sing or swap songs before going to sleep. A lot of the songs told about the romantic escapades of the bothy chiels after they had finished their days' toil (if they had any energy left!). Out of this grew a strong folksong culture.

On a more personal level, my father knew and sang a lot of these bothy ballads. In over forty years of living in London he never lost that thick Eberdonian brogue and at parties and in pubs, after a certain amount of encouragement, would sing these songs. One in particular always brought complete silence to the room when he started to sing, but when the chorus hit, it was utter bedlam; everyone joined in! The song as I remember was just known as Ricky Doo Dum Dey and is about a farmer's daughter who is trying to sneak out of the house to meet her lover (lots of bothy songs in this vein) and all the things that happen as she does so. I never learned the words to that one and maybe I need to see if my mum knows them.

A truly old bothy ballad is The Muckin� o� Geordie's Byre written in the early seventeen hundreds. It's also a pipe tune, although which came first I'm not sure (the song, I think). It's also one of the funniest of the bothy ballads, although the words were considered crude by many, not the least of whom was The Bard hissel. Aye, Rabbie Burns tried to rewrite the poetry but failed miserably; sometimes the rough diamonds are the best. This is the chorus to the ballad and it's written in Lallans Scots, which is Lowland Scots English:

For the graip wis tint, the beesom wis deen,
The barra widna row its leen,
An� siccan a soss it never wis seen,
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre.

Translated to English English, it goes something like this:
The pitch fork was lost, the bosom was done (????)
The barrow wouldn't roll its load,
And such a sight has never been seen,
At the cleaning of Geordie's cow shed.

Certainly loses something in the queen's English, doesn't it? Here is one a little more ribald, and so I'll not translate it in its entirety. I'm sure ye'll a' figure it oot yersels, ye ken. Rabbie may hae likit this ane, ye ken!

Auchinclech
'Tis as I gaed up by Auchinclech
An doon by Skillechyachit
There I heard a fiddler play
"Lassie will ye tak it?"
She's up wi her petticoats
An I cuist aff my jacket
An och phit a bonnie nicht
At thumpin' at it nyaakit
It's hooch on my bonnie lass
And faur gied ye the bairn?
Hooch on my bonnie lass
And faur gied ye the bairn?
I got it frae a tink chiel
comin frae Bohairm,
I got it frae a tink chiel
comin frae Bohairm.

Translated it would go:
As I went up by Auchinclech (no English equivalent)
And down by Skillechyakit (just a rhyming place name, not real)
There I heard a fiddler playing "Girl will you take it?"
She pulled up her petticoats and I kissed off my jacket
(--the rest you can figure out for yourselves!)
It's hooch (what you see is what you get) on my pretty girl and who gave you the baby.
I got it from a tinker lad coming from Bohairm (another town name.)

It's unfortunate that this year Old Blind Dogs will not be touring the West Coast. Last year my family and I and the Beldame of Ayre were fortunate enough to see them perform at the Chico World Festival. We weren't disappointed. For myself it was a blast from the past to hear, alive and well in California, something that I thought had kind of died with my dad. But as long as there are talented musicians like O.B.D., Ed Miller, Dougie McClean and others of their ilk, bothy ballads will be around for awhile yet it seems. They are not only keeping this art form alive, but modernizing it with the combination of moderns rhythms and instruments. And for that I at least am glad. Must be the Jock in this Cockney!

Well I started with a song so I'll finish with one. This is another song that my father sang that's a true bothy ballad and I do know the words to it. It's called Airlin's Fine Braes and describes the lifestyle of one young chiel. Like a lot of these songs, it has a warning at the end:

Noo come a' ye single fellas an tak a warnin' frae me,
Keep clear o' those wimmin faur'er they may be,
For they will entice ye by pittin' on braw claes,
And send ye a rover o'er Airlin's fine braes.

Translated it goes something like this:
Now come all you single fellows and take a warning from me,
Keep clear of those women wherever they may be,
For they will entice you by putting on fancy clothes,
And send you a rake over Airlin's fine hills.

It's a wonder anyone got married in Scotland with all the advice to stay awa frae the wimmin, but it's still fine advice to this day, especially if ye're kilted up and piping at C.R. Gibbs on St. Paddy's Day and the marauding mavens are on the loose!

Bob Elrick, Pipe Sergeant

Bob Elrick's article page

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws