mystery plays – Early Music Muse

There were three Ravens: sublime love and ridiculous riddles

Ian Pittaway bestiaries, diddling, Dowland John, folk music, jigging, Lachrimae (John Dowland), lilting, lute, Melismata (Thomas Ravenscroft), mouth music, mystery plays, non-lexical vocables, port à beul, portaireacht bhéil, Ravenscroft Thomas, Shakespeare William, There were three Ravens, Three Ravens, traditional music, Twa Corbies 1st March 20261st April 2026 10 Comments

The earliest surviving record of There were three Ravens is in Melismata, a book of songs compiled by Thomas Ravenscroft, published in 1611. Since Ravenscroft did not write this anonymous song, this article describes his role in bringing it to print.

The story told in the song is that a knight lay dead in a field; three ravens were prevented from predating on his body by his faithful hounds and hawks guarding him; his pregnant lover found his body, carried him and buried him; then she died from the strain. Within this simple tale is a centuries-old tradition of profound symbolism and meaning, which is explored.

There were three Ravens includes some nonsense syllables – “downe a downe hey downe hey downe” – so the next section puts this in the context of rhythmic vocalising in renaissance and traditional music.

In the modern era, Ravens has been interpreted in ways that are so bizarre and incongruous they are genuinely hilarious. The logical pitfalls and absurdities are explained.

In the oral tradition, variants of Ravens were collected in the intervening centuries in England, Scotland, the USA and Canada. A second article, Three Ravens and Twa Corbies: the transformations of a traditional song from the 17^th to the 20^th century, explores this song tradition.

We begin with a video performance of There were three Ravens as published by Thomas Ravenscroft in 1611, performed with 4 voices and 4 lutes.

Alliterative animals making medieval music in Saint Mary’s Church, Cogges (14th century)

Ian Pittaway alliterative literature, animals playing instruments, bagpipes, bells, Beowulf, Beverley Minster, cithara, citole, Doll thi ale, drum, duct flute, fiddle, flute, Foweles in the frith, Foweles in þe frith, harp, horn, hunting horn, iconography, kithara, medieval fiddle, medieval harp, minstrels, miracle plays, misericords, musical animals, mystery plays, Piers Plowman, pipe and tabor, psaltery, Puritans, recorder, septime estampie Real, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, St. Mary's Church Cogges, viella, vielle, vielle tunings, viola 18th November 20231st July 2025

Alliteration was a foundational feature of medieval verse. Animals playing musical instruments are regularly seen in medieval art. The 14^th century stone-carved musicians of Saint Mary’s Church, Cogges, Oxfordshire, delightfully bring these two elements together: there are nine instruments played by eight alliterative animals (one plays two), including a sheep playing a citole and a boar playing a bagpipe (above).

This article begins with examples of alliteration in medieval poetry (Beowulf, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Piers Plowman), songs (Foweles in þe frith, Doll thi ale), and the medieval mystery plays; followed by illustrations of animals playing music in medieval and renaissance art. That is the background for a brief history of Saint Mary’s Church, Cogges, and an explanation of its eight alliterative animals playing medieval music, with photographs of every carving and a video of each instrument being played.

The medieval minstrels of Beverley Minster. Part 5/8: The “Order of the Ancient Company or Fraternity of Minstralls in Beverley”.

Ian Pittaway Beverley Minster, bombard, fiddle, lute, minstrels, miracle plays, mystery plays, recorder, Saint Mary’s Church Beverley, shawm, waits 2nd August 202328th June 2025 2 Comments

This is the fifth in a series of eight articles about the 14^th century carvings of medieval minstrels in Beverley Minster, a church in the East Riding of Yorkshire. There are 71 images of musicians in stone and wood, more than in any other medieval site. This article asks what is special about the Minster that it houses such a profusion of minstrel iconography, and finds the answer in the “Order of the Ancient Company or Fraternity of Minstralls in Beverley”, a trade guild for professional musicians which covered the whole of the north east of England.

This is followed in the sixth article with an examination of the 14^th century allegorical carvings of real and mythical beasts; in the seventh article with musical aspects of the 16^th century misericords and the 19^th–20^th Gothic revival century organ screen; and the final article puzzles over the paucity of print publications about the magnificent medieval minstrels, and the Minster’s declared lack of interest in accurate information about their uniquely important iconography.

Left to right, fiddle, citole and harp as they appear in the *Romance of Alexander*, MS. Bodl. 264, 1338-44, and above as they appear carved in Beverley Minster, 1330-40.

Coventry Carol: the power of a song

Ian Pittaway Coventry Carol, Edward VI, Henry VIII, Lully lulla thow littell tiné child, mediaeval, medieval, mystery plays, Rebourn John, renaissance, Soul Music (BBC Radio 4) 4th December 20198th November 2024 10 Comments

Angelo Visconti, The Massacre of the Innocents, 1860-1861, Italy. — Angelo Visconti, *The Massacre of the Innocents*,
1860–61, Italy.

Coventry Carol sings the loss of slaughtered infants in a play depicting Herod’s massacre of the innocents. These mystery plays were religious community events, telling Bible stories in the vernacular with humour and pathos, from the creation right through to judgement day. They were performed annually by the local trade or craft guilds, a tradition that began in the middle ages. The mystery plays were threatened in 1548, along with the banning of the Feast of Corpus Christi that was the occasion of their performance, in a royal and ecclesiastical bid to rid England of all vestiges of Catholicism.

The play that carried Coventry Carol has only been preserved through acts of good timing and good luck, surviving the general loss of many period artefacts, royal suppression of its staging, and a devastating fire that destroyed the original document.

My first hearing of it was an act of theatre that changed my life. This was way back in 1984, but even now a shiver runs down my spine each time I think of it. The experience showed me the door to early music, a door which John Renbourn later opened; and it taught me what, at its best, a song can be.

This article was first published on 19^th July 2015, now updated to include an interview with the author, Ian Pittaway, in an edition of BBC Radio 4’s Soul Music, and his performance of the song for the programme with Andy Casserley in the early music duo, The Night Watch. A video of the recording of the song for Soul Music is included in this article. The Coventry Carol edition of Soul Music was broadcast on Christmas Day 2019.