Now We Are Met - Rounds & Canons

No music is so satisfying as the singing of a round.  Everyone gets to sing the melody, yet the harmonies can be as full and beautiful as a large chorus.

The harmonies of a round result when different voices begin and end the melody at different times.  If the voices begin at different times yet end together on a final chord, the song is called a canon.  Rounds and canons were very popular in the 17th and 18th centuries, and in a variety of settings--from William Billings's sacred "When Jesus Wept" to Henry Purcell's bawdy "I Gave Her Cakes."   They can be as long as a full verse of a song, or as short as 2 or 3 phrases.  Colonial Revelers begins each of their concerts with the round "Now We Are Met," composed by Samuel Webbe (1740-1816), as heard in the video above.

The oldest surviving printed example of an English round is "Sumer is A Cumen In," thought to be written in the 13th century.  In the 17th and 18th centuries, books of rounds or catches, as they were also called, were extremely popular, though most people learned the rounds by ear, whether while sitting in a church pew, around a tavern hearth, at home, or even on the march during the Revolution.

The easiest way to learn a round is to sing one part over and over until you've got it, then move on to the 2nd part, then the 3rd.  You might, for instance, sing only "Row, row, row your boat," over and over, while your friends sing all the way through the round.  Next time you'd sing "Gently down the stream," until you're sure of those notes.  Then "Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily," and so forth.  Eventually, you've got the whole melody.

Some of Colonial Revelers' favorite rounds and canons:

Now We Are Met (Webbe, late 18th century)
Sweet Sir Walter (Purcell, 1733)
I Gave Her Cakes (Purcell, 1731)
He That Will an Alehouse Keep (Ravenscroft, 1611)
Banberry Ale (Ravenscroft, 1609)
Christchurch Bells (Aldrich, 1673)
The Sports of May (Warren, 1775)
When Jesus Wept (Billings, 1770)
Canon (Billings, 1770)

You can hear these rounds on either the Down Among the Deadmen or Revelry, Reflection & Revolution CDs.

As ever, your humble servants,
HH

Methinks One Tooth is Dry

Give me yesterday's Bread, this Day's Flesh, and last Year's Cyder.
Poor Richard's Almanac, 1744

On 23 August 1775, King George III declared the American colonies to be in "open and avowed Rebellion" and issued a "Proclamation For suppressing Rebellion and Sedition."

Yet at the time General Washington had other than Rebellion on his mind.  An epidemic of dysentery raged through his camp.  As this coincided with the pressing of the first apple harvest, he made the connection and issued his own Proclamation:

"As nothing is more pernicious to the health of Soldiers, nor more certainly productive of the bloody-flux; than drinking New Cyder: The General in the most possitive manner commands, the entire disuse of the same..."
George Washington, August 28, 1775

Cyder in the 18th century meant unfiltered hard cider--a popular and very common drink.  (If you wanted it with no alcohol, you requested sweet cider.)  Every farm and estate in America (and England) had an apple orchard, and nearly everyone else with a bit of ground near their houses kept a few apple trees.  Communities had cider mills where you could bring your apples to be pressed if you couldn't do it yourself.

So it's interesting that the drinking songs of the era, while extolling the virtues of beer, wine and whisky, fail to mention cider.  Perhaps because after beer or wine, at least, you can still hold a quill to write a song.

Still, each New Year the apple trees were blessed so they'd bring a good harvest in August, along with the assurance of cider to last the winter through.

As for General Washington's dilemma, he'd likely have done better to forbid the drinking of water.

TRUDGE away quickly and fill the black bole,
Devoutly as long as wee bide,
Now welcome, good fellows, both strangers and all,
Let madness and mirth set sadness aside.

Masters, this is all my desire,
I would no drink should pass us by;
Let us now sing and mend the fire,
For still me thinks one tooth is drye.

from Thomas Ravenscroft's A Brief Discourse, 1614

(This song can be heard on Colonial Revelers'

Down Among the Deadmen CD.)

Your humble servants,
HH

DOWN AMONG THE DEADMEN

by Elena Santangelo

The title track in DOWN AMONG THE DEADMEN, Colonial Revelers second CD, almost sounds like it was composed for a Pirates of the Carribean movie, but actually it's 300 years old, dating from the reign of Queen Anne of Britain. (Some sources attribute the lyrics to John Dyer, and he may have contributed verses, but he would have been 14 when Queen Anne died, so chances are, some version of the song was already in circulation).

The original opening lines were

Here's a health to the Queen
And a lasting peace,
May faction end and wealth increase.

At the time, many factions were warring for control of Britain, especially since Anne had no children and did indeed die in 1714 leaving no heir to the throne. Later in the century, during the American Revolution, the song became popular with Loyalists on both sides of the Atlantic. "King" was substituted for "Queen" but the sentiments were the same--a plea for all sides to make peace and bring back prosperity instead of throwing money after costly wars (a lesson we could still learn today).

The verse goes on to urge

Come, let's drink while we have breath,
For there's no drinking after death.

But you might argue, what about the refrain? Isn't that a threat?

And they that won't with us comply,
Down among the deadmen let them lie.

Not much of one, it turns out. The "deadmen" were the empty bottles that piled up on the floor under tavern tables. The lyrics go on to toast women, food, drink and Bacchus, the god of pleasure himself. This isn't a song of war but of merrymaking.
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ELENASANTANGELO is the principal music researcher and arranger for Colonial Revelers.