> A.L. Lloyd > Songs > Rosin the Beau
> Louis Killen > Songs > Rosin the Bow

Rosin the Beau / Rosin the Bow

[ Roud 1192 ; Master title: Rosin the Beau ; G/D 3:698 ; Henry H698 ; Ballad Index R846 ; Wiltshire 973 ; DT ROSINBOW ; Mudcat 10100 ; trad.]

Gale Huntington, Lani Herrmann, John Moulden: Sam Henry’s Songs of the People Maud Karpeles: Cecil Sharp’s Collection of English Folk Songs John Morrish: The Folk Handbook

A.L. Lloyd sang Rosin the Beau in 1956 on the Riverside album English Drinking Songs, which was reissued on CD on the Topic label in 1998. He commented in the liner notes:

Who was old Rosin the Beau? Some rustic rake of the 18th century, it is supposed. In any case, the airy old tough has scattered his children everywhere, and among the younger of these—in both words and tune—is the well known Wrap Me Up in My Tarpaulin Jacket. In America the tune is the best known to the words of Acres of Clams.

The Clancy Brothers with Louis Killen sang Rosin the Bow in 1973 on their album Greatest Hits.

Walter Pardon sang Rosin-a-Beau to Mike Yates on 25 June 1978. This recording was published in 1983 on his album on the Home-Made Music label, Bright Golden Store. It was also included in 2000 on his Musical Traditions anthology Put a Bit of Powder on It, Father. Mike Yates noted on the first album:

Rosin-a-Beau presents one of those ‘chicken and egg’ problems for the folklorist. Is it an Irish song, brought to England by itinerant singers; or is it the product of some Englishman’s mind? We do know that it appeared on both English and Irish broadsides in the 19th century, but the problem remains unsolved. Walter’s final verse—unique to his set, I think—is thought by Walter to refer to a specific lady from North Walsham. A hundred years ago, one of his relatives sang the song in her presence and almost had his eyes scratched out for his trouble!

… and Rod Stradling on the second:

This is the only recorded example of this song from England, according to Roud, although it’s been collected several times. It is, at least recently, very popular in Ireland and we think that the air was also used by Richard Barrett of Bellmullet, Mayo, for a song celebrating the death of the local land agent, one Owen Conway. He called the song Owen Cóir, which means ‘honest’ Owen. However, of the 51 instances in Roud, only the example in Sam Henry’s Songs of the People comes from Ireland—almost all the others are from North America.

Many English country singers learned songs from the Navigators (Navvies) who built the navigations (canals), railways and new roads in the 18th and 19th centuries—and many of these men were Irish. So, while unusual, it’s not so surprising to find several Irish songs in Walter’s, and many other English singers’, repertoires.

Lyrics

A.L. Lloyd sings Rosin the Beau

I’ve travelled this wide world over
And now to another I’ll go,
For I know that good quarters are waiting
To welcome old Rosin the Beau, (×3)
For I know that good quarters are waiting
To welcome old Rosin the Beau.

When I’m dead and laid out on the counter
A voice you will hear from below
Crying, “Send down a hogshead of whisky
To drink to old Rosin the Beau.” …

And when I have drunk my last skinful
The ladies will want to, I know,
Just lift off the lid of my coffin, take
A last look at Rosin the Beau, (×3)
Just lift off the lid of my coffin and take
A last look at Rosin the Beau.

Then get a full dozen stout fellows
And prop them all up in a row,
And drink out of half gallon bottles
To the memory of Rosin the Beau. …

Then get a half dozen fellows
And let them all stagger and go,
And dig a great hole in the meadow
And in it throw Rosin the Beau. …

Then get you a couple of bottles,
Put one at my head and my toe,
With a diamond ring scratch upon them
The name of old Rosin the Beau. …

I feel that great tyrant approaching,
That cruel remorseless old foe,
And I lift up my glass in his honour,
Take a drink with old Rosin the Beau. …

Walter Pardon sings Rosin-a-Beau

I’ve travelled the whole world over,
And now to another I’ll go.
For I know that good quarters are waiting,
To welcome poor Rosin-a-Beau (×3)
For I know that good quarters are waiting,
To welcome poor Rosin-a-Beau.

And when I’m laid out on the counter,
A voice will be heard down below.
Crying out for whiskey and water,
To drink to poor Rosin-a-Beau …

And when I am dead, so I reckon,
The ladies will want to, I know,
To lift the lid of my coffin,
To look at poor Rosin-a-Beau …

Then get you a dozen stout fellows,
And stand them all in a row.
Give each one a half-gallon bottle,
To drink to poor Rosin-a-Beau …

Then get half a dozen stout fellows,
And let them all staggering go;
And dig a great hole in the meadow,
And toss in poor Rosin-a-Beau …

Then get you a couple of tombstones,
Put one at my head and my toe.
And do not fail to write on it,
The name of poor Rosin-a-Beau …

Come all you old witches and bitches,
Come all you old whores in a row.
And all of you fill up your glasses,
And drink to poor Rosin-a-Beau …