Polly Vaughan

Polly Vaughan by A Sunday Song


The song this week was brought to my mind during one of the many gale driven storms this week. I've always thought this a strange song with the hunter mistaking a woman (and his true love no less) for a swan due to her apron being wrapped around her. Reading further into the history there are two main threads of theory surrounding the subject matter: firstly that it echoes previous myths and legends involving metamorphoses of a maiden into a swan (highlighted in other versions of the song by the lady's fair skin) or of a hunter shooting and killing his love by accident. The other thread of thinking is the proliferation of rifles amongst hunters simply lead to a greater number of accidents... You can make up your mind as to which version you think is more probable, more interesting or just sounds better when introducing the song!

This song is performed by the excellent Rosemary Lippard with Tim on guitar, of the song Rose says:

"I first heard Polly Vaughan sung by Anne Briggs whose version I've adapted. I was caught by the haunting tune and her clear, steady voice which perfectly complements and gives such gravity to the melancholy lyric. I love the origins of the tale, which go back to a folklore which says that some magical maids transform into swans or white deer by night and are hunted by a brother or a lover and are killed before re-assuming their human shape."

Come all you young fellows that would handle a gun,
Beware how you shoot as the night's coming on,
For my Jimmy met me in the woods, he mistook me for a swan
And he shot me and killed me and my spirit comes to warn

As I was a-walking in a shower of rain
I sheltered in a green bush, my hair and clothes to save
My white apron thrown over me, he mistook me for a swan
And he shot me, killed me at the setting of the sun

Then Jimmy bore my body with his dog and his gun
Crying "Uncle dear Uncle oh what have I done?
I met my love in a dark wood; I mistook her for a swan
And I shot her and killed her for sport and the hunt"

Then out rushed her uncle with his locks hanging grey
Crying "Jimmy dear Jimmy don't you dare run away
Don't let them cry guilty 'til the trial do come on
For they never will hang you for the shooting of a swan"

Well the trial came on and my spirit could not rest
To think of my true love taken under arrest
Crying "let Jimmy go free whom I've loved my life long
For he never would have shot his own Polly Vaughan"

January 1st 2012

Welcome one and all to 'A Sunday Song', a new project based around a small group of singers who meet up in Bath, in a pub, around a table most Sundays in any given month. After meeting each other at every tune session and folk concert happening in the fair city, we decided to get together of an evening in order to sing the songs we love.

Over the last two years, the session has been a steady occurrence and date in our weekly diary, we have had nights when the room is filled and nights when the room has been empty, nights with drunken sing-alongs and nights with slow ballads reigning supreme and, best of all, nights when people enjoying a quiet pint come over and join in (sometimes in different tongues... our Swedish isn't any better for it though!).

As we rapidly approached the end of the year, Tim had the idea of recording our songs somewhere that they would be accessible to everyone. Recording a folk song and releasing it over a set period of time is not a new idea in this city, in England or even in the world but included in this blog will be the different interpretations, tunes and lyrics, a few mixes of songs that we have found and maybe some original numbers along the way as well!

It seems appropriate that each song is released on a Sunday, the night we meet and the first day of the new year, we all hope that you will enjoy the songs, maybe discover something new and share your thoughts with us in turn... we may even meet you one day!

As for now, enjoy the first offering and here's to a prosperous 2012.