In the last article I heaped praise on the Bodleian Library Broadside Ballad website in which the sheer volume and variety of material is breathtaking.  In this article I start by praising a quite different website, all the work of one American, the late Bruce Olson.  His website at: http://web.archive.org/web/20031225051905/http://users.erols.com/plsonw/  now maintained by his brothers Ken and Doug, deals largely with the relationship between early manuscript/broadside ballads and more recent oral tradition.  It is very strong on tune provenance, adding to the great work started by William Chappell and continued by Claude M Simpson.  Regarding comparative texts, it in many ways overlaps with or complements my own research and indexes.

In his Scarce Songs 2 section on the pages devoted to the widespread oral song Shule Agrah (Johnny has gone for a soldier) he implies quite rightly that there must be earlier versions.  In fact a 17th century broadside song relates closely in theme and text. Found in the Euing Collection (No 257) under the title The North-countrey Maid's Resolution and Love to her Sweetheart, it was printed by Francis Grove at the Swan, who was printing from 1623 to 1661.  (He also printed Johnny Armstrong and lots of the Robin Hood ballads).  Although not as such a 'lover's lament' it is of a similar nature, being a lover's plea to go along with her soldier sweetheart as a camp follower, and may even be a progenitor of such later broadside songs as High Germany (Roud 904), The Banks of the Nile (Roud 950, Laws N9) and Lisbon (Roud 558, Laws N9).

Its complex evolution and lack of narrative has presented us with the same problems which occur with lovers' laments in that it has branched off into many variants and has acquired many stanzas, so that oral versions utilize a wide range of stanzas which can appear in any order.  For Shule Agrah these oral versions rarely have more than five stanzas plus chorus.

The North-countrey Maids resolution & love to her Sweetheart
Her Daddy and Mammy she'l rather forsake Then be separated from her loving Mate: She sold all her Linnen, her Goods and her Geer And followe her Sweet-heart his Snapsack to bear. To a pleasant new Northern tune.
As from Newcastle I did pass, I heard a blithe and bonny Lass, Who in the Scottish Army was, Saying, prethee le me gang with thee man, Unto a Cavaliero Blade, As I suppose, her moan she made, For ever more these words she said, Ile follow my Cavalilly man,       O my dainty Cavalilly man,       My finnikin Cavalilly man,       For Gods Cause and the Protestants,       I prethee le me gang with thee man. Sweet-heart, quoth she, if thou't consent, To follow thee my minde is bent, I'll strive to give thee all content, Then prethee le me gang with thee man; I'll sell my Rock and eke my Reel, And after that my Spinning wheel, To buy my Love a Cap of Speel, And follow my Cavalilly man: My Uncle gave me a House and Land, I'll sel't for money out of hand, And all sall be at thy command, Then prethee le me gang with thee man: My Mammy gave me a Pot and a Pan, My Dady gave me a Yew and a Lamb, Yet I's forsake my Dady and Mam, To follow my Cavalilly man: I'le pawn my Kirtle and eke my Gowne, Which cost my Mother many a Crowne And goe with thee from Town to Town, Then prethee le me gang with thee Man: I'le sell my Petticoat from my back, My Smock and all ere thou shalt lack, For either Money, Beer, or Sack: Then prethee le me goe with thee man, Thy company I love so deere, Then rather then I'le tarry here, Thy Snapsack on my back I'le beare And follow my cavalilly man, I'le sell off all my Hemp and Pards, And throw aside my wooll and Cards. To march along from gards to gards, Then prethee le me goe with thee man. Whatsoever shall of my selfe betide, Where thou shalt either goe or ride, Throughout the Kingdom far and wide, I'le follow my Cavalilly man: I neither care for dirt nor mire, Nor marches long my legs to tire, Thy company I most desire, Then prethee le me goe with thee man. For hose and shoes thou's want for nean, Though thy Apparrell be but mean, I's wash thee weel and keep thee clean, Then prethee le me goe with thee man: Thou salt have cleath to make thee a sark That every yard sall cost a Mark. And whether it sall be light or darke, I'le follow my Cavalilly man. Give me thy Musket in my hand. And when thy Captain gives command, Upon the Centry I will stand, In stead of my Cavalilly man: I'm not afraid of Pistoll shot, Nor Cannon bullets burning hot, Since that is my happy lot, To follow my Cavalilly man. Whilst drums are beating loud alarms I will be ready in thine arms, To keep my love from further harms, To follow my Cavalilly man, In frost, in Snow, in Hail, and Raine, Ore Hill, and dale, and many a Plaine, I'le follow thee through all the Traine, Then prethee le me goe with thee man. And when the Wars are at an end, That I's return heam with my Friend, I'le worke for means for thee to spend, Then prethee le me goe with thee man, I'le buy thee new Apparrell gay, To wear upon thy Wedding day, Then doe not hinder me I pray, To follow my Cavalilly man. The Soldier hearing of her mean, Was loath to leave her all alean, And she along with him is gean, To follow her Cavalilly man. She vows that he his part will take, And though her life were laid at'th stake, Sheel rather die then him forsake, To follow her Cavalilly man.

One subtype which doesn't seem to have survived into the 1880s when the great harvest of folk song commenced is the slip song The Hairy Cap.  The two quite different yet closely related versions I have seen are in the Bodleian in the Harding Collection B6(20) and B11(3197).  I give the latter printed by Walker of Durham.  The other slip, without imprint, has Northumberland instead of Warwick and instead of the projected posting to Germany it has America as the destination.  This subtype was almost definitely in oral circulation as late as 1862 when a much reduced version (stanzas 2, 3 and 4) was printed on a slip by the Glasgow Poets Box (1238, Mitchell Library, Glasgow) under the title Jack and his Dandy Hat.

The Hairy Cap

In Warwick lived a company, The hairy lads, so brisk and gay, In Warwick there in great fame, Some call them the light horse by name: Amongst the rest there is young Jack, With a scarlet coat and Hairy Cap. Young Jack he was my love you know, Before he did for a soldier go; He has my heart with a free good will, He has it now and keeps it still: I like him ne'er the worse for that, For he's a lad with a Hairy Cap. My father cries how can you moan, Since he is for a soldier gone; My sister cries, O let him go, How can you love a soldier so: I like him ne'er the worse for that, For he's the lad with a Hairy Cap. Now I'll go sell off all I have, And follow my young lad so brave, I'll sell my rock, I'll sell my reel, I'll sell likewise my spinning wheel, I'll pawn my cloak, I'll sell my hat, And all to buy a Hairy Cap. Then I'll go sell my gown you know, Likewise my scarlet roccelo, I'll sell them upon my word, All for to buy a good sword; I'll look as rakish as young Jack, With a scarlet coat and a Hairy Cap. So if I should go to Germany, I'm sure young Jack will go with me, And if in battle I am slain, I'm in peace and not in pain; I die, I die, I die with Jack, Farewell unto my Hairy Cap.

Another subtype Sweet William was printed on a York slip c.1800 probably by Kendrew as it is found in a batch of ballads mostly by Kendrew in the British Library under the heading York Publications (BL 1870 c2, item 161).  It is closer to the modern oral versions but has lost the 'camp follower' theme and is more of a 'lover's lament'.  A few oral versions of this subtype survived in England (see Journal of the FSS Vol 3 pt 1, 1907, pp28-29), and interestingly one, a Hampshire version, has a much corrupted Irish chorus ending with the 'Sweet William mourning among the rush' line.

Sweet William
(York Publications 161)
I left my parents in disgrace, Since I have left my native place, I dare not look them in the face, Sweet William's a mourning among the rush.       The rose is red, the grass is green,       The merry days are over that I have seen,       And there is another were I have been,       Sweet William's a mourning among the rush. I wish I was were I love best, Close in them arms I would embrace, The door should be lock'd and the key in the chest, Sweet William's a mourning among the rush. I wish, I wish, but I wish in vain, And wish that I was a maid again, Then my parents would not complain, Sweet William's a mourning among the rush. I'll sell my rock, I'll sell my reel, I'll sell likewise my spinning wheel, To buy my love a sword and shield, Sweet William's a mourning among the rush. I wish I was at Portland Hill, I'd sit me down and cry my fill, And every tear should turn a mill. Sweet William's a mourning among the rush.

The earliest Irish broadside version I have seen was printed on a slip by Haly of Cork c.1860 under the title Shule Agrah (Harding B26 (602)), although Gavin Duffy in The Ballad Poetry of Ireland, 1845, claims the song was sung by the many 'Wild Geese' who fled Ireland to fight in foreign armies after the Treaty of Limerick in 1691.

Shule Agrah

Oft I roved my garden bowers; To gaze upon fast fading flowers, And think upon past happy hours, That's fled like summer's bloom.                   Shule, shule, shule agrah, Time can never end my woe, Since the lad of my heart did go,                   Gudhe tough, gudhe tough, slaun. No more am I that blooming maid, That used to rove the valley's shade, My youth, my bloom, are both decayed And every charm is gone.                   Shule etc. For now he's gone to other climes, To seek one more pleasing to his mind, But ah, the maid he left behind Shall love him best of all. His eyes were black, his coat was blue, His hair was fair, his heart was true, I wish in my heart I was with you Gudhe tough, gudhe tough, slaun. The time can only ease my woe, Since the lad of my heart from me did go,       Uska dhe, uska dhe, mavouneen slaun. I'll sell my rock, I'll sell my reel When my flax is out I'll sell my wheel, To buy my love a sword and shield,                   Gudhe tough, gudhe tough, slaun. I wish I was in younder hill, It's there I'd sit and cry my fill, That every tear would turn a mill, Gudhe tough, gudhe tough, slaun. Oft I sat on my love's knee, Many a fond story he told to me, He said many things that ne'er will be, Gudhe tough, gudhe tough, slaun. I'll dye my petticoat, I'll dye it red, That round the world I may beg my bread, And then my parents would wish me dead, Gudhe tough, gudhe tough, slaun. Time can only ease my woe Since the lad of my heart from me did go,                   Uske dhe, uske dhe, mavourneen slaun.

Irish versions were circulating in Scotland at least as early as 1823 when one was printed in C K Sharpe's A Ballad Book p.39, and another of the late 1840s can be seen in Lady John Scott's mss in the National Library of Scotland.  Both of these and the Duffy version can be seen on Bruce's website.  Duffy's version of the Irish chorus ought to be given before we go further.

Shule, shule, shule aroon,
Shule go succir, agus shule go cuin,
Shule go den durrus augus eligh glum,
Is go de tu mo murnin slan.

Johnny is Gone for a Soldier

I'll trace these gardens o'er and o'er, Meditate on each sweet flower, Thinking of each happy hour. Oh, Johnny is gone for a soldier.       Shool, shool, shool, agrah!       Time can only ease my woe,       Since the lad of my heart from me did go,       Oh, Johnny is gone for a soldier. Some say my love is gone to France, There his fortune to advance, And if I find him it's but a chance, Oh, Johnny is gone for a soldier. I'll sell my frock, I'll sell my wheel, I'll buy my love a sword of steel, So in the battle he may reel, Oh, Johnny is gone for a soldier. I wish I was on yonder hill, It's there I'd sit and cry my fill, So every tear may turn a mill, Oh, Johnny is gone for a soldier. I'll dye my dress, I'll dye it red, All over the world I'll beg my bread, So my parents may think me dead, Oh, Johnny is gone for a soldier.

Not including the stanzas in our 17th century song that didn't survive until later, a total of fourteen stanzas have been found in use in later versions plus seven others that only occur once.  Those stanzas that have survived for nearly four-hundred years in the tradition could well be even older and may turn up in earlier manuscripts.  They have probably survived for so long because of their ready adaptability to different war campaigns and the fact that the British and their descendants have been almost constantly involved in military campaigns somewhere in the world for the period covered by the life of this song.