traditional music – Early Music Muse

Three Ravens and Twa Corbies: the transformations of a traditional song from the 17th to the 20th century

Ian Pittaway Alarc’h An (Swan The), Billy MacGee MacGore, Billy Magee Magar, Billy Magee Magaw, Billy McGee McGaw, Bonnie Doon, Buffalo Gals, Caledonian Hunt’s Delight, Child ballads, Child Francis James, Christy's Minstrels, Cobbold William ‘New Fashions’, diddling, folk music, jigging, lilting, lute, Melismata (Thomas Ravenscroft), mouth music, non-lexical vocables, port à beul, portaireacht bhéil, quodlibet, Ravenscroft Thomas, Scott Sir Walter, Sharp Cecil, Steeleye Span, Straloch lute manuscript, There Were Three Blackbirds, There Were Three Cows, There were three Ravens, There Were Two Cows, Three Black Crows, Three Blackbirds, Three Cows, Three Ravens, traditional music, Twa Corbies, Two Cows, When Johnny Comes Marching Home, Ye banks and braes o’ bonnie Doon 1st April 20263rd April 2026 0 Comment

There were three Ravens first appeared in print in Melismata, a book of songs compiled by Thomas Ravenscroft, published in 1611. A previous article, There were three Ravens: sublime love and ridiculous riddles, explored the layers of meaning in the song, found through its contemporaneous cultural references, and the comically bizarre interpretations offered by some modern authors.

This second article traces the many transformations of the song in the oral tradition from the 17^th to the 20^th century, with videos, soundfiles and music in staff notation. This includes the version printed by Thomas Ravenscroft in 1611; a different version included in a quodlibet (song medley) by William Cobbold in c. 1620; its Scottish metamorphosis, Twa Corbies, in the 18^th and 19^th century; 19^th century variants in Lincolnshire, Derbyshire, and Scotland; a 19^th century American minstrel show parody, sung to the tune of Bonnie Doon, which then spread in the oral tradition in the USA and England; a 19^th century US version sung to several variants of When Johnny Comes Marching Home; and 20^th century variants sung in Scotland, the USA, and Canada.

We conclude with some reflections on the changes the song has undergone over the centuries.

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.

Performing medieval music. Part 3/3: The medieval style

Ian Pittaway Alfonso X, Angelus ad virginem, Ar ne kuth ich sorghe non, Ars musicae, Cantigas de Santa María, carols, Carthy Martin, folk music, historically informed performance, Johannes de Grocheio, mediaeval, medieval, medieval notation, medieval singing styles, non-mensural music, rhetoric, Summa musice, traditional music, troubadours 10th August 201810th June 2025 2 Comments

The most fundamental question of all in playing early music today is: how can the music be played to reflect historical practice? This is the third of three articles on this topic for medieval music, aiming to be practical guides with plenty of musical examples and illustrations, and a bibliography for those who wish to delve further.

The first article discussed historical instrument combinations and the second how to create polyphonic accompaniments for music written monophonically. This third and last article discusses a wide variety of questions of style: the performance of the non-mensural (non-rhythmic) notation of the troubadours; the role of the voice and instruments; ornamentation; questions of intelligibility, language and sung translations; musical preludes and postludes; and the effect of the various functions of music on the way it is performed.

This article features a video of Martin Carthy singing a traditional English song on the basis that his free style, with the voice leading and guitar following, each verse phrased differently, so free that it is mensurally unwritable, may have something important to tell us about the historical performance of troubadour songs.

Kalenda maya, the troubadours, and the lessons of traditional music

Ian Pittaway ars antiqua, estampie, folk music, historically informed performance, Jean de Grouchy, Johannes de Grocheio, Kalenda maya, medieval, medieval notation, Notre Dame school, O'Neill's Music of Ireland, Raimbaut de Vaqueiras, rhythmic modes, Souvent souspire mon cuer, traditional music, troubadours, trouvères 10th August 201713th April 2025 12 Comments

BnFms854f.75vRaimbautdeVaqueiras — Raimbaut de Vaqueiras as depicted
in a 14^th century French manuscript
(Bibliothèque nationale de France ms. 854, folio 75v).

Kalenda maya is a 12^th century song by troubadour, Raimbaut de Vaqueiras, one of the Occitanian (later southern French) poets and singers who developed the musical tradition of fin’amor, refined or perfect love. Via Roman fertility festivals and Irish fiddle tunes, this article discusses the poetic content of the song and the problems of interpreting the musical notation of Kalenda maya, penned when written music was still developing in medieval Europe. Can there be a definitive version when there are textual variants of the same song or melody? How credible are renditions of Kalenda maya that impose a musical rhythm not present on the original page?

Raimbaut de Vaqueiras based the melody of Kalenda maya on an estampie he heard at court in Italy. Using principles written in 1300, I attempted to reverse engineer the sung estampie back into the tune it originally was. The reasons this proved impossible tell us something important about medieval music and the continuance of the spirit in which it was played.

We begin with a video of two interpretations of the melody played on gittern.

Angelus ad virginem: why early music and traditional music share the same gene pool

Ian Pittaway Angelus ad virginem, Barbara Allen, Chaucer Geoffrey, folk music, Gabriel fram evene king, Gabriel fram heven king, Kalenda maya, Lowlands of Holland, Souvent souspire mon cuer, traditional music, troubadours, trouvères 20th March 201730th September 2024 5 Comments

Angelus ad virginem was a popular medieval and renaissance song, appearing in six manuscripts from the late 13^th to mid 16^th century in England, France and Ireland, with Latin words – Angelus ad virginem – and English words – Gabriel fram evene king. In each source, the melody is recognisably similar but different in detail, indicating a constant reworking of the musical material. This is also the central feature of traditional or folk music. Via Geoffrey Chaucer, Barbara Allen and the troubadours, this article traces the history of the variant versions of Angelus / Gabriel, arguing for the familial relationship between early music and traditional music, beginning with a performance of Angelus on medieval harp.

The trees they do grow high: a ballad of medieval arranged marriage?

Ian Pittaway broadside ballads, Burns Robert, Carthy Martin, early music, Fletcher John, folk music, harp, Herd David, Johnson James, Lady Mary Ann, Lloyd A. L., Maidment James, mediaeval, medieval, medieval harp, myths, North Countrie Garland, Scots Musical Museum, Shakespeare William, traditional music, Trees they do grow high, Two Noble Kinsmen, Young Laird of Craigstoun 13th February 201625th June 2024 8 Comments

The trees they do grow high is a traditional ballad about an arranged child marriage, also known as The trees they grow so high, My bonny lad is young but he’s growing, Long a-Growing, Daily Growing, Still Growing, The Bonny Boy, The Young Laird of Craigstoun, and Lady Mary Ann. The song was very popular in the oral tradition in Scotland, England, Ireland, and the USA from the 18^th to the 20^th century. Questions about its true age (medieval?), the basis of its story (describing an actual marriage?) and its original author (Robert Burns?) have attracted conjectural claims. This article investigates the shifting narrative of the story over its lifetime and sifts the repeated assertions from the substantiated evidence.

The Lyke-Wake Dirge: the revival of an Elizabethan song of the afterlife

Ian Pittaway Aubrey John, Boulton Harold, Canterbury Tales, Chaucer Geoffrey, early music, folk music, harp, Lyke-Wake Dirge, mediaeval, medieval, medieval harp, renaissance, Ritson Joseph, Scott Walter, Sidgwick Frank, traditional music 3rd January 20164th November 2023 18 Comments

The Lyke-Wake Dirge, with its dark, mysterious imagery and its brooding melody, is known to singers of traditional songs through its resurrection in the repertoire of folk trio The Young Tradition in the 1960s, and its subsequent recording by The Pentangle and others. What many of its performers may not realise is that its history can be reliably traced to Elizabethan Yorkshire, with a hint from Geoffrey Chaucer that its origins may be earlier. This article uses direct testimony from the 16^th and 17^th century to explore its meaning, its perilous and punishing “Whinny-moor”, “Brig o’ Dread”, and “Purgatory fire”; and discovers the surprising origin of its doleful dorian melody.