With A Too-rye-ah...

The folk revival in Britain threw up all kinds of unlikely heroes, none more unlikely than a Donegal man born in 1917, Packie Manus Byrne. He'd grown up on a remote farm and had absorbed the local songs, tunes and stories from his family and neighbours. Many people played the fiddle in Donegal but Packie preferred something he could carry with him at all times and chose the tin-whistle as his lifelong companion. Probably as important as his store of  words and melodies was his jovial and likable personality; an evening spent in the company of Packie always left you with a smile.

Packie Byrne soon left the family farm and, like thousands of his countrymen, came to England to seek his fortune. Here he worked as a railwayman, sax player in a dance band, steeplejack, circus hand, actor, builder and salesman. He also took periodic trips back to Ireland  where he got involved in cattle rustling and smuggling tea across the Irish border! But Packie fell seriously ill and it was while convalescing that he once again became interested in the traditional music of Ireland. He won a ballad singing competition and sang at a folk festival where he was overwhelmed by the reception he received. For the next twenty years he became a regular fixture in many folk clubs and festivals mixing together old ballads, comic songs,whistle tunes and stories.

Now what got me thinking of Packie Byrne after all these years? Well, I titled a recent blog "As I Rode Out" and got a comment back from "Morning's Minion" (follow the link if you like fine writing and cats) asking if it was a quote from a song. I soon found myself humming a song that I'd not thought about in many a long year. A song which a friend had surreptitiously taped during a performance by Packie. I learned the song and used to sing it from time to time. It's probably changed a bit over the years; that tends to happen. Anyway this is what I remember:

The Creel

As I rode out on a moonlit night excitement for to find

Who should I meet but a pretty little girl and I asked her to be mine

With a too-rye-ah fol-de-do-a-dah

Too-rye-ah skip folly-doodle-doop

Tol-aye-do

And it's how can I get to your chamber, love, and how can I get to your bed?

"Well, my father locks the doors at night and the keys lie under his head"

With a too-rye-ah...

"But if you get you a ladder sixty feet, sixty feet and three

You could place it up to the chimerney pot, come down in a creel to me"

With a too-rye-ah...

So I got me a ladder sixty feet, sixty feet and three

And I placed it up to the chimerney pot and down in the creel comes me

With a too-rye-ah...

But no peace nor ease could the old man get till he got up to see

But as soon as he opened the bedroom door it's under the bed jumps me

With a too-rye-ah...

Then no peace nor ease could the old woman get till she's got up to see

But her foot took a shot at the chamber pot and into the creel fell she

With a too-rye-ah...

So I jumps out from beneath the bed and gived that creel a haul

Which broke six ribs in the poor woman's side and knocked a bloody great hole in the wall

With a too-rye-ah...

I rocked her up and I rocked her down, I rocked her here and there

For any old woman that refuses her daughter should be rocked to you know where!

With a too-rye-ah fol-de-do-a-dah

Too-rye-ah skip folly-doodle-doop

Tol-aye-do

I checked my memories of Packie Byrne and learned some new things too on http://rogermillington.com/index.html which has lots of further information including some of Packie's stories, check out the "tall tale" Weird Antiques.

A short snatch of Packie's singing, including the first verse of "The Creel" can be found at http://www.musicscotland.com/cd/Packie-Byrne-Donegal-Back.html

Take care.