Folk songs are here!
The Jam on Jerry's Rocks
This is a logging song. The quickest way to move logs cut down in the backwoods of North America was to get them to a river and float them down to areas that had roads. But sometimes the logs would jam up and the jam would have to be broken up. This was hard and dangerous work, like the rest of logging. Watch the old movie Seven Brides for SEven Brothers for a lighter take
Lyrics are from this version (there are numerous versions ):
https://www.youtube.com/watch?
Come all you brave young shanty boys,
And have ye all draw near and hear my lamentation
It’s more than I can bear.
Concerning six young shanty boys so manly and so brave
Went down the Jam at Jerry’s Rock and met with a watery grave.
'Twas on one Sunday morning as you may plainly hear
The logs were piled up
We could not keep them clear
The boss did say “turn out me boys with hearts all free from fear.
We’ll break the Jam on Jerry’s Rock and Freegan’s town we’ll steer.”
Some of the boys were willing boys, some stunned that way with fright
To work upon a Sunday, they did not think twas right
When six of our Canadian boys, they volunteered to go
To break the Jam on Jerry's
With the foreman, young Monroe.
They had not rolled off many’s a log when the boss of them did say:
“I'll have you all be on your guard, this jam will soon give way”
He scarce had the time to say these words
When the jam did break and go,
And carried away those six bold youths,
And the foreman, young Monroe.
When the rest of the young shanty boys
These tidings sad did hear;
The search for their dead comrades, to the river they did steer.
To search for their dead comrades to the river they did go
All mangled, bruised and bleeding was
the foreman, young Monroe.
Now they buried him quite decently,
On the 5th of May,
And all his brave comrades, o’er his dead form they did pray.
And engraved upon the hemlock
the name and date of drowning fate
Of the foreman, young Monroe.
So come all you brave young shanty boys and come along with me.
I’ll take you to the riverside to see that hemlock tree
To read the fate of he who was the bravest man to go
To break the Jam on Jerry’s Rock, our foreman, young Monroe.
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According to Contemplator.org, "Gerry's Rocks (Gerrish) are above The Forks, Maine and the events of the tune are related on a rock and tree on the Kennebec River. "Sagmor Town" is a corruption of Saginaw, which is probably a corruption of "Saguenay," a river and site of an Indian settlement."
However, other folk song collections say the location of Gerry's rocks has never been determined.
Some variations of Monroe or Monro pulling out the key log that breaks up the jam and dying in that successful effort. Some talk about his mangled body on the beach, and at least one, gulp, refers to his mangled head on the shore.
According to one site I read, drowning was the leading cause of death among lumberjacks in the 19th and early 20th century, when logs were transported by floating them downriver.
The Wellerman
Lyrics taken from this version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?
This is my favourite song and I've been waiting a year to share it on this play list. If you or your kids know tiktok or know somebody who has tiktok or know somebody who knows somebody who knows... you get the picture- you already have heard this. For me, it has never gotten old.
Yes, my friends, TikTok, of all social media, made sea chanties cool again in 2020 and 2021. AO did a rotation of sea chanties several years ago. Who knew how cutting edge we were?
There once was a ship that put to sea
The name of the ship was the Billy of Tea
The winds blew up, her bow dipped down
O blow, my bully boys, blow (Huh!)
Soon may the Wellerman come
To bring us sugar and tea and rum
One day, when the tonguin' is done
We'll take our leave and go
She'd not been two weeks from shore
When down on her, a right whale bore
The captain called all hands and swore
He'd take that whale in tow (Huh!)
Soon may the Wellerman come
To bring us sugar and tea and rum
One day, when the tonguin' is done
We'll take our leave and go
Before the boat had hit the water
The whale's tail came up and caught her
All hands to the side, harpooned and fought her
When she dived down low (Huh!)
Soon may the Wellerman come
To bring us sugar and tea and rum
One day, when the tonguin' is done
We'll take our leave and go
No line was cut, no whale was freed
The Captain's mind was not of greed
But he belonged to the whaleman's creed
She took that ship in tow (Huh!)
Soon may the Wellerman come
To bring us sugar and tea and rum
One day, when the tonguin' is done
We'll take our leave and go
For forty days, or even more
The line went slack, then tight once more
All boats were lost, there were only four
But still that whale did go (Huh!)
Soon may the Wellerman come
To bring us sugar and tea and rum
One day, when the tonguin' is done
We'll take our leave and go
As far as I've heard, the fight's still on
The line's not cut and the whale's not gone
The Wellerman makes his regular call
To encourage the Captain, crew, and all (Huh!)
Soon may the Wellerman come
To bring us sugar and tea and rum
One day, when the tonguin' is done
We'll take our leave and go
Soon may the Wellerman come
To bring us sugar and tea and rum
One day, when the tonguin' is done
We'll take our leave and go
Purchase at Amazon linkes are here on our website. These are affiliate links for AO.Things you might want to know:
This is a New Zealand folksong about whaling, which has been illegal in nearly all countries for several decades^. But it was once the source for all kinds of necessary products, making umbrellas (the bones), soaps, lubricants, lamp oil, candles, and more.
*Commercial whaling is illegal almost everywhere. Whaling is legal under two circumstances. When whaling is part of indigenous culture and the countries laws permit, indigenous people may continue traditional whale hunts, although there may be limits on the catch. Scientific research is another exception. In Japan whale meat from whales killed for scientific research was sold in restaurants, markets, and sometimes school lunches. While it is not a significant part of the diet of the average Japanese citizen, and many have never tasted it, only a quarter of the Japanese people are opposed to their country's continued whale
* 2018 Japan withdrew from the International Whaling Commission. As of this year, Japan has returned to commercial whaling under quotas.
The Billy o' Tea is likely a fictional ship (the name is literally a tin can repurposed to boil water for tea) and this song has the elements of a great myth or legend- like the Flying Dutchmanor a number of ghost ships of spooky stories and unsolved mysteries, imagine the ship and crew sailing the seas forever ,in and out of the mists, never ending the hunt, dragged by the whale forever, waiting for a visit from the ship that will bring them things they need that they can't produce from the camp on shore where they'll cut up and render the blubber.
The Wellerman- The Weller company was real, and the Weller Man delivered the supplies and checked up on the ships out from port. More here.
Nathan Evans popularized this on TikTok and has a recording contract now. He also has the most beautifully thick Scots accent and I hope it never changes.
A right whale is one of three species of large baleen whales. The baleen was used for things we'd make with plastic today. Plastic is a mess but it probably saved the whales, along with petroleum and natural gas and other things that replaced the light sources that relied on whale oil. The only species with more bulk is a blue whale, and sailing ships were not that big.
Tonguing is stripping the blubber from the whale. It's a nasty, messy, smelly, hard job.
There is a Time for Us to Wander
There is a time for love and laughter
The days will pass like summer storms
The winter winds will follow after
But there is love and love is warm
There is a time for us to wander
When time is young and so are we
The woods are greener over yonder
The path is new, the world is free
There is a time when leaves are falling
The woods are grey, the paths are old
The snow will come when geese are calling
You need a fire against the cold
There is a time for us to wander
When time is young and so are we
The woods are greener over yonder
The path is new, the world is free
So do you roamin’ in the springtime?
And you find your love in the summer sun
The frost will come and bring the harvest
And you can sleep when day is done
Time is like a river flowin'
With no regrets as it moves on
Around each bend the shinin’ mornin’
And all our friends we thought were gone
There is a time for us to wander
When time is young and so are we
The woods are greener over yonder
The path is new, the world is free
The path is new, the world is free
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The Darlings sang it on the Andy Griffeth episode or two. The Darlings were a fictional hillbilly family played by the more sophisticated Dillards. You can read about the Dillards here. This is not public domain, so don't perform it for money.=)
Land of the Silver Birch
Land of the silver birch
Home of the beaver
Where still the mighty moose
Wanders at will
Blue lake and rocky shore
I will return once more
Boom de de boom boom, boom de de boom boom
Boom de de boom boom, boom.
Down in the forest, deep in the lowlands
My heart cries out for thee, hills of the north
Blue lake and rocky shore, I will return once more
Boom de de boom boom, boom de de boom boom
Boom de de boom boom, boom
High on a rocky ledge, I ’ll build my wigwam,
Close to the water’s edge, silent and still
Blue lake and rocky shore, I will return once more
Boom de de boom boom, boom de de boom boom
Boom de de boom boom, boom
Land of the silver birch home of the beaver
Where still the mighty moose, wanders at will
Blue lake and rocky shore, I will return once more
Boom de de boom boom, boom de de boom boom
Boom de de boom boom, boom.
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Haul on the Bowline
Haul on the bowline, our bully ship's a-rollin'
Haul on the bowline, the bowline Haul!
Haul on the bowline, Kitty is my darlin'
Haul on the bowline, the bowline Haul!
Haul on the bowline, Kitty lives in Liverpool,
Haul on the bowline, the bowline Haul!
Haul on the bowline, the old man is a-growlin,
Haul on the bowline, the bowline Haul!
Haul on the bowline, so early in the mornin'
Haul on the bowline, the bowline Haul!
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Another Sea Chanty. Possibly one of the oldest still sung today.
A bowline is both a special knot, and something related to moving the ship on a line. You can read more about that here.
Revolutionary Tea
https://www.youtube.com/watch?
There was a rich lady lived over the sea
And she was an island queen.
Her daughter lived off in a new country
With an ocean of water between.
With an ocean of water between.
Now old lady’s pockets were full of gold,
But never contented was she;
So, she ordered her daughter to pay her a tax
Of three-pence a pound on her tea.
Of three-pence a pound on her tea
“Oh, mother, dear mother,” the daughter replied,
“I’ll not do the thing that you ask.
For I’m willing to pay a fair price on the tea,
But never a three-penny tax.”
But never a three-penny tax
“Oh You shall,” cried the mother and reddened with rage,
“For you’re my own daughter, you see,
And it’s only proper for a daughter to pay
Her mother a tax on her tea.”
Her mother a tax on her tea.”
So she ordered her servants to be called up
To wrap up a package of tea.
And eager for three pence a pound, she put in
Enough for a large family.
Enough for a large family
She ordered her servants to bring the tax home,
Declaring her child must obey,
Or, old as she was and woman half grown,
She’d half whip her life away.
She’d half whip her life away.
So, tea was conveyed to the daughter’s own door,
All down by the ocean’s side,
But the bouncing girl poured out every pound
In the dark and boiling tide.
In the dark and boiling tide.
And the daughter cried out to the island queen,
“Oh, mother, dear mother,” cried she,
“The tea you may have when ’tis steepened enough,
But never a tax from me.”
But never a tax from me.”
An American revelution song, as always, feel free to substitute something else.
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Farewell to Nova Scotia
For more Nova Scotia folk songs, you want to know more about Carrie Grover
Farewell to Nova Scotia
And your sea bound coast
Let your mountains dark and dreary be
When I am far away on the
Briney oceans tossed
Will you ever heave a sigh
Or a wish for me
The sun is setting in the west
The birds are singing from every tree
All nature seems inclinded to rest
But still there will be
No rest for me
I grieve to leave my native land
I grieve to leave my comrades all
And my aged parents
Whom I love so dear
And the bonny bonny lassie
That I adore
Farewell to Nova Scotia
And your sea bound coast
Let your mountains dark and dreary be
When I am far away on the
Briney oceans tossed
Will you ever heave a sigh
Or a wish for me
The drums do beat the wars do alarm
The captain calls, I must obey
Farewell, farewell to Nova Scotia's charms
For it's early in the monring
And I'm far far away
Farewell to Nova Scotia
And your sea bound coast
Let your mountains dark and dreary be
When I am far away on the
Briney oceans tossed
Will you ever heave a sigh
Or a wish for me
I have 3 brothers they are at rest
Their arms are folded on their chest
But a briney sailor just like me
Must be tossed and driven
In the deep blue sea
Farewell to Nova Scotia
And your sea bound coast
Let your mountains dark and dreary be
When I am far away on the
Briney oceans tossed
Will you ever heave a sigh
Or a wish for me
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Ballad of New Scotland
Let's away to new Scotland, where Plenty sits queen
O'er as happy a country as ever was seen
She blesses her subjects both little and great
With each a good house and a pretty estate.
Derry down, down
Down, derry down.
There's wood and there's water, there's wild fowl and tame
In the forest good ven'son, good fish in the stream
Good grass for our cattle, good land for our plough
Good wheat to be reaped, and good barley to mow.
Derry down, down
Down, derry down.
No landlords are there the poor tenants to tease
No lawyers to bully, nor stewards to seize
But each honest fellow's a landlord, and dares
To spend on himself the whole fruit of his cares.
Derry down, down
Down, derry down.
They've no duties on candles, no taxes on malt
Nor do they, as we do, pay sauce for their salt
But all is as free as in those times of old
When poets assure us the age was of gold.
Derry down, down
Down, derry down.
Day-O, The Banana Boat Song
This is a traditional Jamaican folk song popularized for us by Harry Belafonte. Born in America, grew up in Jamaica, he brought a number of the traditional songs of the area to the airwaves and made the world familiar with them.
I don't know who needs to hear this, but there is nothing racist about singing traditional folk songs like this one (or like Brown Girl in the Ring), unless you are doing it to mock, wearing blackface, or deliberately mangling the beautiful accent. If you can't do it right, no shade, just sing without attempting the Jamaican lilt.
Day-o, day-ay-ay-o
Daylight come and me wan' go home
Day, me say day, me say day, me say day, me say day, me say day-ay-ay-o
Daylight come and me wan' go home
Work all night on a drink a rum
(Daylight come and me wan' go home)
Stack banana 'til the mornin' come
(Daylight come and me wan' go home)
Come, mister tally man, tally me banana
(Daylight come and me wan' go home)
Come, mister tally man, tally me banana
(Daylight come and me wan' go home)
Lift six foot, seven foot, eight foot, bunch
(Daylight come and me wan' go home)
Six foot, seven foot, eight foot, bunch
(Daylight come and me wan' go home)
Day, me say day-ay-ay-o
(Daylight come and me wan' go home)
Day, me say day, me say day, me say day, me say day, me say day
(Daylight come and me wan' go home)
A beautiful bunch of ripe banana
(Daylight come and me wan' go home)
Hide the deadly black tarantula
(Daylight come and me wan' go home)
Lift six foot, seven foot, eight foot, bunch
(Daylight come and me wan' go home)
Six foot, seven foot, eight foot, bunch
(Daylight come and me wan' go home)
Day, me say day-ay-ay-o
(Daylight come and me wan' go home)
Day, me say day, me say day, me say day, me say day, me say day
(Daylight come and me wan' go home)
Come, mister tally man, tally me banana
(Daylight come and me wan' go home)
Come, mister tally man, tally me banana
(Daylight come and me wan' go home)
Day-o, day-ay-ay-o
(Daylight come and me wan' go home)
Day, me say day, me say day, me say day, me say day, me say day-ay-ay-o
(Daylight come and me wan' go home)
For more information on our folksongs and a link to purchase at Amazon, see our folksong webpage. These are affiliate links for AO
If you're interested in a serious read about bananas and their economic history, for middle school and up through to parents who like to learn, try Bananas: The Fate of the Fruit that Changed the World. Or the harder to find Honduras, the Making of a Banana Republic. (high school and up)
This is a bonus song- use it if you prefer to make a substitution for any of the songs above. It comes from St. Simon's Island, Georgia (the U.S.), and was heard sung at night funerals as boatsman rowed across the water. Picture that scene. It's both beautiful and eerie. You can read a bit more about it here (number 28, lay this body down).
I first heard of it in that book, originally published in 1867 as Slave Songs of the United States, and it took me a couple years to find musical versions online to share.
I Know Moonlight, I Know Starlight
I know moonlight,
I know starlight,
I lay this body down.
I walk in the moonlight,
I walk in the starlight,
I lay this body down.
I know the morning
And the evening star
I lay this body down.
Oh, graveyard,
Oh, graveyard,
I lay this body down.
I walk in the graveyard,
I lay in my grave,
I lay this body down.
I lay in my grave,
I feel my grave's side,
I lay this body down.
I go to the judgment,
In the evening of the day,
When I lay this body down.
Then my soul and your soul
Will meet on that day,
When I lay this body down.
I know moonlight,
I know starlight,
I lay this body down.
1856, also shanty, chantey "song with a boisterous chorus, sung by sailors while heaving or hoisting anything heavy;" probably an alteration of French chanter "to sing," from Latin cantare "to sing" (from PIE root *kan- "to sing"). Perhaps the immediate source is French chantez, imperative of chanter. The purpose was to enable them to pull or heave together in time with the song.
