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The Forfar Sodger

[ Roud 2857 ; G/D 1:69 ; Ballad Index FVS163 ; DT FORFARSL ; Mudcat 34608 ; David Shaw (1786-1856)]

Norman Buchan and Peter Hall: The Scottish Folksinger Karl Dallas: The Cruel Wars Robert Ford: Vagabond Songs and Ballads of Scotland Gavin Greig: Folk-Song of the North-East Roy Palmer: The Rambling Soldier

Jimmy McBeath from Banffshire sang The Forfar Sodger to Alan Lomax and Hamish Henderson in July 1951. This recording was included on the anthology A Soldier’s Life for Me (The Folk Songs of Britain Volume 8; Caedmon 1961; Topic 1970), and in 2002 on the Rounder anthology Two Gentlemen of the Road. The first album’s booklet noted:

Jimmy McBeath, the tramp balladeer of North East Scotland, sings this favorite Scottish recruiting song with his inimitable bar-room twang. The ballad itself, according to Gavin Greig, was written by David Shaw, a weaver-poet of Forfar (1786-1856). When it moved into folk currency, the text was altered and it was sung to many different tunes such as Johny Ladd, The Quaker Wife, and Robin Tamson’s Smiddy. Peter Kennedy feels that Shaw’s rather literary production may be derived from the barracks’ song with which this side opens. Whether or not this is true, there can hardly be a question that the folk improved David Shaw’s original piece as they mulled it over. Here is the sample of the literary stiffness of the original:

The bluid cam’ hockin’ thro’ my hose,
An’ when I cudna gang, Sir,
I toomed my gun among my foes
An’ sync sat doon an’ sant, Sir,
At “Scots wha hae wi’ Wallace bled”
An “Up wi’t, Meggy Dick”, Sir,
But sune wi’ cauld my woundit leg
Grew just as still’s a stick, Sir.

Rob Watt sang The Forfar Sodger on the 1968 Topic anthology of songs and ballads from the Lowland East of Scotland, Back o’ Benachie. His verses are printed in Norman Buchan and Peter Hall’s book The Scottish Folksinger. Peter Hall noted:

The reputed author of this song is David Shaw, the weaver poet, born near Forfar in 1786. However, many traditional songs such as the Irish Kerry Recruit and the English Turbiton Town cover the same ground, and Shaw may well have adapted existing material. The late arrival of the song on the traditional scene can be adduced from the lack of a settled musical tradition. Variants of The Deil’s Awa Wi’ the Exciseman, Merrily Danced the Quakers Wife, Robin Tamson’s Smiddy and Johnny Lad (old tune) are used as well as the present air from the Souter’s Feast family.

The Clutha sang The Forfar Sodger on their 1971 Argo album Scotia!. Don Martin noted:

This song was a product of the imagination of David Shaw (1786-1856), the Forfar weaver poet who was also responsible for The Wark o’ the Weavers. In Folk-Song of the North-East Gavin Greig printed Shaw’s original text alongside a version collected from oral tradition, which had been curtailed and improved in the process of passing from mouth to mouth. A version very similar to this ‘improved’ text is still to be found in the repertoires of traditional singers today. The version used by The Clutha is from contemporary oral tradition.

Ray Fisher sang The Forfar Sodger in 1972 on her Trailer album The Bonny Birdy. She noted:

I think that my accomplished quartet of accompanists (English though they might be (!!) have successfully conveyed the lilting, jaunty lift which I experienced on first hearing Rob Watt of Fetterangus sing this song. To hirple means to hobble (as if you didn’t know!).

The Battlefield Band sang The Forfar Sodger in 1976 on their first album, Scottish Folk.

Mirk sang The Forfar Sodger in 1977 or earler in a session of Jean Redpath’s BBC television series Ballad Folk.

The Gaugers sang The Forfar Sodger in 1990 on their City of Aberdeen Libraries / Springthyme cassette The Fighting Scot. They also sang it on the 2004 anthology of folk songs and fiddle music from North East Scotland, Where the Laverock Sings.

Aileen Carr sang The Forfar Sodger on the 1995 Greentrax CD of songs from the Greig-Duncan Collection as performed at the Edinburgh International Festival, Folk Songs of North East Scotland, and in 2000 on her Greentrax album Green Yarrow. She noted:

Written by David Shaw (1786-1856), the Forfar weaver poet, this appeared in Alan Reid’s The Bards of Angus and the Mearns in 1897, but it had long before become ‘traditional’, with many variants and missing verses. This version is very similar to the one collected by Gavin Grieg from oral tradition and published alongside Shaw’s original in the Buchan Observer of 4 May 1909.

Alistair Hulett sang The Forfar Sodger in 1996 on his and Dave Swarbrick’s album Saturday Johnny & Jimmy the Rat.

Ian Bruce sang The Forfar Sodger in 1998 on his Greentrax album Hodden Grey.

Jim Malcolm sang Forfar Sodger in 1999 on Old Blind Dogs’ CD The World’s Room. Susan Malcolm noted:

A popular Angus ballad generally sung unaccompanied, the Forfar Sodger tells of rural life hard enough to encourage a youngster into Wellington’s British Army—his “scum of the earth” who halted Napoleon’s progress in Iberia and matched his Imperial veterans at Waterloo. Injured in Spain, the gallant Forfarian endures the long treck home to live the respectable life of a pensional soldier. Legend has it that the same character went on to invent the world-famous Forfar Bridie as an ideal lunch for soldier and ploughman alike.

Jim Malcolm also sang Forfar Sodger in a Glenfarg City Hall, Scotland, concert on 22-23 November 2003. This recording was included in 2004 on his album Live in Glenfarg. He noted:

I’ve always loved this song, which I first heard sung hy Aileen Carr. Old Blind Dogs did a version on The World’s Room. but it quickly fell off the back of the set. Too happy an ending.

And Jim Malcolm sang Forfar Sodger at the “Country Special Scotlan” at the Tanz- & Folkfest Rudolstadt 6.-9. Juli 2017.

John Malcolm sang The Forfar Sodger in 2009 on the Sleepytown anthology The Bothy Songs and Ballads of North East Scotland Vol. 4.

Lyrics

Jimmy McBeath sings The Forfar Sodger

In Forfar I was born and bred,
In faith I do think shame, sir, To tell you the sober life I led, Afore I gaed be-hame, sir.

Chorus:
Hurrah! hurrah! Si’ my diddy-fan-air-an-i-do

My father was a weaver poor,
That ever wove the spool, sir,
There wasna beef within the door,
But just a pound of gruel, sir.

At twelve they sent me to the school
To count the rule of three sir,
A noble thought came in my head,
And a sodger I would be, sir.

I went in to Forfar Toon
And in the Forfar County,
Enlisted there wi Sairgeant Broon
For fifty pounds o’ bounty.

They gave me white mittens to my hands,
And plates to hap my back, sir
And they swore that I was the bravest man
In a’ the toon o’ Forfar.

Through all the markets in the toon,
They marched me up and doon, sir,
Wi’ strip-wd stockings on my legs
And feathers on my croon, sir.

They werna long they changed ma tune,
They sent me o’er to Spain, sir,
There was forty regiments in a row,
Come a-marching o’er the plain, sir.

Twa long years we fought withain
But o it was in vain, sir.
Until a ball gaed through my leg,
And I up and fired again, sir.

When the doctor came to view my wounds,
He swore that I’d be lame, sir,
But I got a twa oxter staffs,
And I come limping home, sir.

Through a’ the hardships I come through,
It would hardly do to mention,
But I’ve come back to Forfar Toon
To live upon my pension.

Rob Watt sings The Forfar Sodger

In Forfar I wis born an’ bred,
Bit faith I div think shame, sir,
Tae tell the weary life I led
Afore I left ma hame, sir.

Chorus:
Hurrah! hurrah! Ma twittie fal air al aye doh

Ma faither wis a weaver poor
Wha ever filled a spool, sir,
There never wis beef cam’ tae the door
But jist a pun’ at Yule, sir.

Fin I wis sax I gaed tae skweel
Because it wis the fashion,
And ilkae Sunday tae the kirk
Tae save me o’ a thrashin’.

They learnt me tae read an’ write
And ’coont the rule o’ three, sir,
But a nobler thoucht cam’ intae ma heid
An’ a sodger I wid be, sir.

So I gaed doon tae Forfar toon,
’Twas in the Forfar contry;
And I listet there wi’ Sergeant Broon
For forty poun’s o’ bounty.

They gied me claes tae hap ma back
An’ mittens tae my han’s, sir,
An’ swore I was the brawest chiel
In a’ the Hielan clans, sir.

We spent the maist o’ a’ oor time
Jist marchin’ up an’ doon, sir,
Wi’ a feathered bonnet on ma heid
And poothered tae the croon, sir.

Bit fegs they gart me change ma tune
An’ sent me off tae Spain, sir,
Whaur forty regiments in a row
Cam’ marchin’ ower the plains, sir.

For three long days and nichts we fought
I thought t’wid niver end, sir,
Syne a bullet cam’ fusslin thro’ ma leg,
So I up and fired again, sir.

The doctor cam an’ dresst ma wounds
An’ swore I would be lame, sir,
But I got a haud o’ twa oxter staffs
And I cam’ hirplin’ hame, sir.

Noo a’ the troubles I’ve been thro’
I scarcely need tae mention,
For noo I’m back in Forfarshire
And livin’ aff my pension.

Ray Fisher sings The Forfar Sodger

In Forfar I was bred and born,
I’faith! I dae think shame, sir,
When I tell o’the weary life I led,
Before I left my hame, sir.

Chorus:
Hurrah! hurrah! Wi ma twittie fol air ol aye doh!

My faither was a weaver poor,
Wha’ever filled a spool, sir.
And never beef cam tae oor door,
But half a pound at Yule, sir.

When I was six I gaed tae school
Because it wis the fashion.
Aye, and ilka Sunday tae the Kirk,
Tae save me o’ a thrashin’.

They learned me tae read and write,
Likewise the rule o’ three, sir.
Til a nobler thocht cam intae ma heid,
And a sodger I would be, sir.

So I gaed doon tae Forfar toon,
’Twas in the Forfar County.
And I listed there wi’ Sergeant Broon,
For forty pounds o’ bounty.

They gied me claithes tae hap ma back,
And mittens for ma hands, sir.
And they swore I wis the smartest chiel,
In a’ the Heilan’ clans, sir.

We spent the maist o’ a’ oor time,
Jist merchin’ up and doon, sir,
Wi’ a feathered bunnet on ma heid,
And poothered tae the croon, sir.

But, fegs, they gart me change ma tune,
And they sent me aff tae Spain, sir.
Whar forty regiments in a row,
Cam merchin’ ower the plains, sir.

For three lang days and nichts we focht’,
I thocht it never end, sir,
Til a bullet cam whistlin’ thro’ ma leg,
So I up and fired again, sir.

The bleed cam pourin’doon ma hose,
The bleed cam pourin’ doon, sir.
So I teemed ma gun amang ma foes,
And I syne sat doon and sang, sir.

And the doctor cam and dressed ma wounds,
And he swore I would be lame, sir.
So I got haud o’ twa oxter staffs,
And I cam hirplin’ hame, sir.

O’ a the troubles I hae seen,
I scarcely need to mention.
For noo I’m back in Forfarshire,
And I’m livin’ aff ma pension.