The Girl I Left Behind Me - the rest of the story

     Back about the time of the Bicentennial of the United States, we had just finished playing The Girl I Left Behind Me in Philadelphia's Historic District when a very cocky visitor from the crowd informed me that it was a "Civil War tune," maybe earlier sung by sailors, and very inappropriate for our Continental Army musician's uniforms. Although I was confident that the tune dated from long before, there wasn't much I could say in response. I did some digging. What I came up with was Father Abby's Will or Father Abdy's Will, a song published in Boston in 1731, with the very same melody.
     Father Matthew Abby was a caretaker and domestic at Harvard College shortly after its founding in 1636 who had an substantial reputation for being a confirmed tightwad. The song spoofs his hypothetical last will and testament, listing very precisely what was to be left to his widow:

To my dear wife, my joy in life, I freely now do give here:
        My whole estate with all my plate, being just about to leave here.
My tub of soap, a long cord rope, a frying pan and kettle,  
       And ash in the pail, a threshing flail, an iron wedge and beetle, (a beetle was a sledge hammer)
Two painted chairs, nine wooden pears, a large old dripping platter,
       This bed of hay on which I lay, an old sauce pan for batter.
A little mug, a two quart jug, a bottle full of brandy,
      A looking glass to see your face, you'll find it very handy.
A musket true as ever flew, a pound of shot and wallet,
      A leather sash, my calabash, my powder horn and bullets. (a calabash was a gourd utensil)
A greasy hat, an old gray cat, a yard and a half of linen,
      A pot of grease, a woolen fleece, In order for your spinning.
A ragged mat, a tub of fat, a book put out by Bunyan,
      Another book by Robin Rook, a skein or two of spun yarn.
An old black muff, some garden stuff, a quantity of borridge,
      Some devil's weed, some burduck seed, to season well your porridge. (borridge, devil weed and , burduck were flavorings)
A chafing dish, with one salt fish, if I am not mistaken,
      A leg of pork, a broken fork, and a half a pitch of bacon.
A spinning wheel, one peck of meal, a knife without a handle,
      A rusty lamp, two quarts of samp, and half a tallow candle. (samp was corn meal)
My pouch and pipes, two oxen tripes, an oaken dish well carved,
      My little dog and spotted hog, with two young pigs just starved. (newly weaned)
This is my store, I have no more, I heartily do give it,
      My years are spun, my days are done, and so I think to leavin'.

   The tune is much older than that. Here it is with lyrics from the 7th Cavalry Songbook, as published in Marching Songs of the Union.:

P.S.: A descendant of Father Abey sent me the following e-mail, which some of you may find interesting.

   The melody was a common fife tune played in the American colonies during the 1650s, then known as Brighten Camp. It was quite popular on both sides during the American Revolution. However, some sources claim that it goes back to Elizabethan times.   Since these pages are always a work in progress, I am compelled to also add the following: A student of mine, Gary Gustin, recently told me of a late 17th or early 18th century Irish drinking song that goes with the same melody, entitled "The Waxie's Dargle."

   The Irish seaside town of Bray is divided by the Dargle River in County Wicklow, about 12 miles from Dublin. Every year or so, the candle-makers in the area (Waxies) would convene there for a factory outing. The song, "Waxie's Dargle,"  is about this festive occasion. There are many versions to the lyrics, some of which are not particularly politically correct for today. This one is.

Say's my old one to your old one
Won't you come to the Waxies Dargle?
Say's your old one to my old one
Sure we haven't got a farthing.

I went down to Monto town
To see young McArdle
But he wouldn't give me a half a crown
To go to the Waxies Dargle

Say will you have a pint?
I'll have a pint with you sir
And if one of us doesn't order soon
We'll get thrown out of the boozer.

And here's a nice piece of advice
That I got from an old fish monger
When food is scarce
And you see the hearse,
You know you died of hunger.

  During the American Civil War, new words were written for the tune and it became known as the American Volunteer. It is still played as the graduating class song at the U.S. Military Academy at West Point.

"My years are spun, my days are done, and so I think to leavin'. "

(c)E.W.Boyle, 2002

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