Sent by Lucy Grahame to Lucy Broadwood, April 1904
Lucy Broadwood MSS Collection LEB/5/178/1, LEB/5/178/2, Journal of the Folk-Song Society 2 (1905) pp.113-114
“Learnt from Kentish squire’s daughters, the last of whom died at great age in 1865”.
Mrs Grahame wrote:
This is all of the “Yarmouth Ditty” which I have ever heard. There is, I believe, a good deal more of it, but I have no idea what kind of tragic ending there may be!
Mrs Lucy Grahame, of 3 Markwick Terrace, St Leonard’s on Sea, Sussex, corresponded with Lucy Broadwood in April and May 1904. She sent Miss Broadwood words and music for four songs, three of which were subsequently included in the Journal of the Folk-Song Society. These songs had been learned from the daughters of a Kentish squire, “the last of whom died in 1865 at an advanced age”.
See the following records in the VWML Archive Catalogue:
Baptised Lucy Rayden in Deptford – then part of Kent – on 15th August 1832, her father William Harris Rayden was a merchant (a “Sworn broker ships & insurance”, according to the 1851 census), and the family lived at Blackheath Hill, Greenwich. Clearly the family was well to do: at the time of the 1871 census, Lucy was living with her three sisters at Wellington Square, St Mary in the Castle, Hastings – and all were listed as living on “income from interest on money”.
Lucy married a Scottish merchant, William Smellie Grahame, at St Leonard’s on Sea in 1877. William was nearly 20 years older than his bride. They set up house in Richmond upon Thames, but at some point following his death in 1894, Lucy moved back to St Leonards. She died at the age of 78, in 1912.
Reportedly sung by George Mount, Cheriton.
‘The Shop Walker’ was a comic song composed by George Le Brunn with lyrics by Walter de Frece, published by Charles Sheard & Co in 1891 or 1892. In 1903 the song entered the repertoire of the well known music hall performer Dan Leno, and was described on the cover of subsequent sheet music printings as “Sung with greatest possible success by Dan Leno”, and his “celebrated pantomime patter song” – see https://www.vandaimages.com/2009CR8416-Song-sheet-cover-featuring-Dan-Leno-in-Walter-de.html.
According to Wikipedia
“The Shopwalker” was full of comic one-liners and was heavily influenced by pantomime. Leno played the part of a shop assistant, again of manic demeanour, enticing imaginary clientele into the shop before launching into a frantic selling technique sung in verse.[1]
Leno recorded the song on a disc issued by The Gramophone Co. Ltd. In July 1903, and it was subsequently taken up by other performers including Harry Bluff and Sandy Powell- and, no doubt, by many amateur performers around the country.1
Reportedly sung by George Mount, Cheriton.
Folkestone, Hythe, Sandgate & Cheriton Herald, 8th September 1923
The cuckoo is a pretty bird,
She sings as she flies;
She brings us good tidings,
And tells us no lies.
She sucks little birds’ eggs
To make her voice clear;
She never sings ‘Cuckoo,’
Till summer is near.
Widely collected by the early twentieth century folk song collectors. Cecil Sharp, for example, found numerous versions, in Somerset, Gloucestershire, Warwickshire – and in the Appalachian mountains of the USA. The song was included in English Folk-Songs for Schools collected and arranged by Sabine Baring Gould and Cecil Sharp, published by J. Curwen & Sons Ltd., 1906, so it is entirely possible that George Mount’s grandchildren would have sung it in school. We have no information on George’s version beyond the verse quoted above, nor where he had learned the song.
Reportedly sung by George Mount, Cheriton.
This song is known by various titles, including ‘Green Grow the Rushes, O’, ‘The Twelve Apostles’, ‘The Dilly Song’, and ‘The Ten Commandments’. Collectors such as Sharp and Baring-Gould found the song in England and North America, and a version from Dorset was included in Lucy Broadwood’s English County Songs (1893). She gave a set of words as printed in the Eton College Rifle Volunteer Corps’ publication Camp choruses, and the song continues to be included in Scout campfire song books today.
See Lucy Broadwood and J.A. Fuller Maitland, English County Songs, pp154-159, https://archive.org/details/englishcountyson00broa/page/154/mode/2up
Reportedly sung by Tom Catt.
A very well known hunting song from Cumberland. It was written circa 1824 – originally in Cumbrian dialect – by John Woodcock Graves (1795–1886) in celebration of his friend John Peel (1776–1854), a huntsman from the Lake District. The words were subsequently rewritten in more standard English by Carlisle bookseller George Coward (using the pseudonym Sidney Gilpin), while it was the new musical arrangement by William Metcalfe (1829–1909), organist and choirmaster of Carlisle Cathedral, which became best known around the country. The song’s popularity and longevity would no doubt have been increased by its inclusion in The national song book : a complete collection of the folk-songs, carols, and rounds suggested by the Board of Education, edited and arranged by Sir Charles Villiers Stanford, published by Boosey & Co. in 1905.
For the standard words and tune, see The national song book pp6-7, https://archive.org/details/nationalsongbook00stan/page/6/mode/2up
Reportedly sung by Tom Catt, James Rye and others.
A song which was frequently encountered by early folk song collectors, right across the country, and with a variety of tunes. Writing in the New Penguin Book of English Folk Songs, Steve Roud and Julia Bishop say
Extremely widely-known in Britain and also in North America, ‘The Farmer’s Boy’ is for some the archetypal English folk song and was often used as a semi-official rural anthem at union meetings and harvest suppers. Most of the early collectors noted versions and they commented on how common it was Sabine Baring-Gould, for example, wrote, ’One of the most popular and widely known folk-songs in England. It would be hard to find an old labourer who has not heard it’ (English Minstrelsie, I (1895), p. xxx).
The earliest known record of the song’s words is their appearance on an 1832 ballad sheet published by J. Catnach, but they may be older. The words remain fairly constant in collected versions. The tune most commonly associated with the song today, which has also done service as the regimental quick march of the Duke of Edinburgh’s Royal Regiment and the Princess of Wales’s Royal Regiment (successor to the Royal East Kent regiment, popularly known as “The Buffs”), is based upon ‘Ye Sons of Albion’, a patriotic song dating from the Napoleonic Wars – see William Alexander Barrett, English folk-songs (1891), https://archive.org/details/englishfolksongs00barr/page/22/mode/2up.
The newspaper columnist ‘Felix’ refers to ‘The Farmer’s Boy’ being sung by Tom Catt at a Shorncliffe Drag Hunt annual dinner, probably in the 1890s1; and also – by unnamed singers – at a harvest home supper near Folkestone, 1932.
I was recently a guest at a harvest home supper, and after sampling “a cut and come again” kind of menu, listened to a very few short speeches and many ancient and modern songs.
Of course the good old “Farmer’s Boy,” with its rollicking chorus came up as fresh as, ever, and so did “We are all jolly fellows that follow the plough.”2
‘Felix’ appears to assume that his readers will be familiar with the song and, since he makes no comment about the song being sung to an unfamiliar tune, it seems likely that he heard it sung to the “standard” tune. Examples of the song being sung to the ‘Ye Sons of Albion’ tune were collected by Cecil Sharp at Hambridge in Somerset (CJS2/10/56) and by Janet Blunt at Adderbury in Oxfordshire (JHB/2/6) – and this was the tune recorded from Charlie Bridger of Stone-in-Oxney in 1983. But versions of the song in the VWML Archive Catalogue can be found with variations on this tune and, sometimes, a completely different tune. Frank Kidson’s Traditional Tunes (1891) included four different North Country tunes for the song, in 6/8 and 3/4 rather than the more normal 4/4. The version sung by Ethel Ford to Anne Gilchrist, which she had learned from her father the blacksmith, might originally have been derived from the ‘Ye Sons of Albion’ tune, but had diverged significantly from it.
These are among the many other newspaper references to the song being performed:
Most of these examples show the song being sung at more or less formal events, what might be termed “polite gatherings”. ‘The Farmer’s Boy’ is recognised as an old song, but it’s rubbing shoulders with comic songs, parlour ballads, and “national songs”. Modern folk song scholars tend to agree that what makes a song a folk song is less about the song’s provenance (e.g. how old it is, whether it has a known composer) and more about the context in which it is sung. The events referenced above may or may not be contexts which would lead one to class the songs performed as folk songs: when sung at harvest suppers and penny readings, perhaps; when sung by a vocal harmony quartet at a formal concert, probably not. Which is not, of course, to say that ‘The Farmer’s Boy’ is not a folk song. No doubt it was being performed in all sorts of less formal situations – sing-songs at home or in a country pub, for example – which, naturally, would not be reported in a newspaper.
Clearly the song was very well known – a song which might come to mind when in one’s cups, perhaps, judging by reports of certain court cases. For instance, Frank Broadley, a farmer from Singledge Farm, Whitfield, who was brought before the Dover magistrates in October 1929 on a charge of being drunk and disorderly, his singing of ‘The Farmer’s Boy’ on a late-night bus having aggravated some miners who were on board, leading to a fracas. Summing up, Mr. Mowll for the defence said
Here was a farmer on a ‘bus, well known to the passengers—he may have had too much to drink—but apparently the worst he was doing was singing the good old English agricultural song “The Farmer’s Boy.” The miners did not seem to like it.
To which the Magistrates’ Clerk replied, drolly
They may have liked the song but not the way it was being sung. 35
A few decades earlier, outside Kent, but in a case reported in more than one Kent newspaper, Thomas Davis, “an elderly man of decidedly bucolic appearance, described as an agricultural labourer”, was charged at the Westminster Police court with begging.
Leader, a plain clothes constable employed in the repression of mendicity, said that on Thursday night the prisoner was in the Fulham-road, singing in doleful strains an apparently interminable refrain called “The Farmer’s Boy.” He seemed to do very well, and the witness, knowing that he was a persistent beggar, took him in custody. The Prisoner : I was brought up as a farmer’s boy. Mr. Partridge : How old are you ? The Prisoner : I dunno, I reckon about 60. Mr. Partridge : You don’t suggest that you are in your second childhood, do you? You call yourself a farmer’s boy at 60 years of age. (Laughter.) 36
The words of the song were sufficiently well known that they could be used in other contexts. For example by Mr Herbert Knatchbull-Huguessen MP who, at a Conservative meeting at Sittingbourne in 1887 entered the current debate on Technical Education (a Royal Commission had reported on the subject that year, and 1889 would see the passing of the Technical Instruction Act). Knatchbull-Huguessen observed that
he did not quite understand what was meant by technical education. If it meant that the boys of the agricultural labourer, instead of having their heads stuffed with French grammar, and all that sort of nonsense, were taught to
Plough and mow,
And reap and sow,
And be a farmer’s boy(laughter), then he was an advocate for it. If it meant that the girls, instead of being taught French and fancy work, were taught to cook, and bake, and sew, then he was in favour of it; for such subjects as he had mentioned he contended unfitted the children of agricultural labourer for the position in life which they were intended to occupy. 37
In the interests of balance, it is worth pointing out that at the time of the next general election in 1892, the same newspaper carried a letter from “P.B.”, who described herself as a working man’s daughter, from Sittingbourne. Her letter poured scorn on the very idea of the Conservative working man – “In my mind a working man who calls himself a Conservative, if he really understands the meaning of that term, is a double-distilled lunatic. He is making a rod to whip his own back when he supports a Conservative policy”. The letter continued
Do not let us be content to sit down to the doctrine of the Conservatives, “To plough and sow and reap and mow and be a farmer’s boy,” and be content with our miserable lot, or to sit down to the policy of “To him that hath much, unto him much shall be given, but unto him that hath little, all that he hath shall be taken away,” which is decidedly the policy of the Conservative party. 38
The Buffs, formerly the 3rd Regiment of Foot, was one of the oldest regiments in the British Army, having been formed in 1572. Based in Canterbury, from 1881 the regiment was known as the Royal East Kent Regiment. Since 1961 the regiment has been subject to a number of mergers, becoming in turn the Royal Kent Regiment, the Queen’s Regiment and, finally in 1992, the Princess of Wales’s Royal Regiment. Today the regimental quick march is a medley of ‘The Farmer’s Boy’ and ‘Soldiers of the Queen’.
Historically, the quick march of the Buffs was known simply as ‘The Buffs’ – a fine 4-part tune in 6/8, which can be found in 19th century sources under various titles, including ‘The Weymouth Quickstep’ and ‘Argyll Rout’. However there seems to have been a close association between the regiment and ‘The Farmer’s Boy’. For example “Town and Country Notes” in the South Eastern Gazette, 11th January 1916, referred to a battalion of the Buffs exercising their rights (having been granted the Freedom of the City of London some 250 years earlier) to march through the City with bayonets fixed:
Recently, in moving from Kent to a new station, a battalion of the Buffs (East Kent Regiment) had occasion to march across the City of London, and in doing so exercised the ancient privilege of the regiment – the battalion marched with bayonets fixed. As was appropriate, the band played the Regimental March, with which is incorporated the old Weald Of Kent March, “The Farmer’s Boy.”
And the Sevenoaks Chronicle and Kentish Advertiser for 26th February 1932 reported that ‘The Farmer’s Boy’ had been “adopted as the regimental march of the Weald”:
CRANBROOK BUFFS’ PRIZE DAY
Not the least important item on the programme at the Territorial prize-giving and concert, held at Cranbrook last week, and briefly reported in our last issue, was the singing of “The Farmer’s Boy,” which has been adopted as the regimental march of the Weald. It is one of the traditions of “C” Company that their annual prize-distribution should always be opened in this way: and the time-honoured practice never fails to win the approval of the general public, who feel that it is some small recognition of their own existence.
Note: the 2nd Volunteer Battalion of the East Kent Regiment was designated the Weald of Kent battalion, so it may be that this battalion in particular favoured the use of ‘The Farmer’s Boy’.
George Mount is mentioned in a column by ‘Felix’ in the Folkestone, Hythe, Sandgate & Cheriton Herald of 8th September 1923:
A Real Old Timer
There has recently passed away at 154,High Street, Cheriton, in the person of Mr. George Mount, a somewhat remarkable man. He first saw the light of day in a little cottage on the slopes of the hillside near the chalk pit at Newington. During the seventy-two years that he lived Mr. Mount was for the most part an agricultural labourer, his last employer being Mr. Church, builder, of Cheriton. But “good old George,” as he was popularly known, had more than local fame. He was indeed known over a wide area of East Kent. He had one great hobby—and a good one too. Although in a humble walk of life, he formed a taste for following the hounds. To listen to the huntsman’s horn on a cold and frosty morning was often too much for George. Hunting on foot was in his blood.
“The dusky night rides down the sky and ushers in the morn,
The hounds all join in glorious cry,
The huntsman winds his horn
When a hunting we do go”1Old George Mount, when he heard the sound of the horn, has been known to “down tools” and run off to follow the quarry on foot, such was his passion in this respect. Over hill or dale, through dense thicket, or on the breezy upland, there our friend would make his way in all weathers, and, what was more, with his knowledge of devious paths and short cuts he would generally manage somehow or other to get in “at the death,” even if it had been a fast run across country for the hounds. Not for thirty years did old George miss a meet of the Foxhounds at Elham. Successive masters of the Hunt and also its prominent members have in turn greeted George as a humble supporter. He had no peer for cross country travel in these parts perhaps, with the exception of Captain D’Aeth, who was also a great supporter of the Hunt and a mighty walker, with a big stride into the bargain. What George did not know about foxes and their habits was not worth knowing.
Rollicking Songs.
Well I recall the old fellow too singing at those old-time harvest home suppers given to their men by Alderman Quested, J.P., and Mr. F. Graves. It did not matter if after the cloth had been removed professional singers came on the scene; it was George Mount’s songs that were the gems of the evening. After I had listened perhaps a day or two previously to singers of world-wide reputation, it was a change indeed to listen to some of our hero’s efforts. One of these was known as “The Shop-walker.” It had just forty verses, each with a refrain. At times old George’s memory would play tricks with him, and when he had arrived at, say the twentieth verse, he often broke down. No, the words would not come. Then a voice would probably be heard: “Go back twenty verses,” and old George would go back as desired and start afresh. There was another ditty too entitled: “I’ll sing you one, O.” That also was a long effort. But perhaps his greatest success was “The Cuckoo,” and the manner he gave effect with his strident voice to the following lines was something to remember:
“The cuckoo is a pretty bird,
She sings as she flies;
She brings us good tidings,
And tells us no lies.
She sucks little birds’ eggs
To make her voice clear;
She never sings ‘Cuckoo,’
Till summer is near.”
George Mount was baptised at St Martin’s, Cheriton, on 28th September 1851. He was the first child of Mary, née Fisher, and George, who been listed in the census that year as “Bricklayer employing 2 men”. The couple lived at Limekiln Cottage, Danton, near Cheriton. The 1861 census shows George Senior was working as a gamekeeper, living on Cheriton Hill. Two more sons are shown on the census return, but in fact there was another son, Richard, just a baby, who was being looked after by William and Harriet Bailey at Otteringe. George was now a widower, Mary having died earlier in the year – possibly in childbirth. The household in Cheriton included his sister-in-law Ann Clayson, who was shown as house keeper, her young son George, and a niece, Sarah Fisher.
George remarried in 1867. His new bride was Harriet Harman, herself a widow, whose maiden name was Taylor. At the time of the 1971 census the family was living at Denton Pinch, Cheriton. There were four sons from George’s first marriage, one from his marriage to Harriet, and another from Harriet’s previous marriage. George Senior’s occupation was now builder; George Junior, now 19, and his 17 year old brother Charles were both working as bricklayer’s labourers, presumably for their father.
In the summer of 1872 George Junior married Eliza Taylor, and they had two daughters, Rosa and Eliza. George’s wife Eliza died in 1876, again, quite possibly in childbirth. George was married again on 15th October 1877, at St Mary the Virgin, Elham, to Mary Jane Raines. By 1881 they had set up house at Bank House, Newington Next Hythe, with two year old Georgina joining the two daughters from George’s first marriage. George was now working as an agricultural labourer.
In 1891 George’s occupation was “General labourer”. The family has grown again – one daughter and four sons are living in their home at Uphill Cottage, Uphill, near Hawkinge. By the start of the twentieth century the family had moved back to Cheriton, and George had returned to the building trade. In 1901, with another two daughters and a son, he was working as a carpenter’s labourer, living at 9 Park Road, Cheriton. His 16 year old son Sidney was also a carpenter’s labourer.
In 1911 and 1921 George and Mary were living at 154 High Street, Cheriton. In 1911 George was shown as “Labourer brickyard”, in 1921 his occupation was given as “General labour”, employed – as stated in the newspaper article quoted above – by Mr Church, Builder, High Street Cheriton.
He died at the age of 71, and was buried on 10th August 1923, in the church where he had been baptised, St Martin’s, Cheriton. The article by ‘Felix’ in the Folkestone Herald for 8th September 1923 concluded
George loved the hunt above all things, and he loved his fellow men. No millionaire ever got more innocent enjoyment out of his existence than good old George Mount, and because he has now passed away, there is one less cheery soul in the world. He was laid to rest where he would wish to be, in the shadow of those hills he loved in life so well. With his widow and seven children considerable sympathy is expressed. Two of his sons, I may say, laid down their lives in the Great War.
The weekly column by ‘Felix’ Folkestone, Hythe, Sandgate & Cheriton Herald for 19th February 1927 included the following:
The foregoing reminds me that at one time the officers comprising members of the Shorncliffe Drag Hunt were wont to give a dinner to farmers whose lands were hunted over by the “Drag.” Those farmers, with their friends, were right royally entertained on such occasions. One such gathering occurs to me as I mention community singing. It was at that period when that splendid sportsman, the late Hon. A.S. Hardinge, was Brigade-Major. That gallant gentleman was a real favourite with the sturdy yeomen. His jet black hair, his dark flashing eyes, and his lithe, dapper figure come before me as I wield my pen. Probably there were 400 or 500 guests present at the particular dinner I refer to. After the good things had been properly attended to by the sons of the soil, the full band rendered some delightful selections. Suddenly there were cries of “Catt, Catt,” from all parts of the great building. ” Catt,” be it explained, died several years ago. He was a short sturdy man with a jolly countenance. He was not a great singer. He did not pretend to be. His repertoire was limited to about three songs, and one of these was “John Peel.” I well remember how the hero of the moment was greeted when he appeared on the platform. Catt had just the good old rollicking style for the song, but it was the community singing, as represented by the chorus of “John Peel,” that brought down the house, or rather, lifted the roof. The memory of the rendition of the song and chorus remains with me. Rough and ready it may have been, but Catt, who was a jolly farmer and poultry raiser at Ham Street, exactly fitted the song.
‘Felix’ returned to this theme a few years later, in his column for 3rd March 1934:
It was in the early days of the “Folkestone Herald,” when I was present at the a annual dinner of the Shorncliffe Drag Hunt. The great building was beautifully decorated,
and the farmers over whose land the “Drag” hunted were present in large numbers from this part of East Kent, including the Marsh. The officers comprising the Hunt, attired in their picturesque mess jackets, were there to welcome their guests. A full regimental band provided music of the right sort.
The hero of the evening was no doubt the then Secretary of the Hunt (Major the Hon.
A. S. Hardinge, Brigade Major). This gallant soldier and splendid sportsman was a rare favourite both with the farmers of the countryside and his brother officers of the Hunt.
What a night that was! I recall, amongst other things, during the “after dinner” proceedings, how Tom Catt, a sturdy farmer from Ham Street, sang “D’ye ken John Peel?” and how between three and four hundred guests nearly lifted the roof off in the rollicking chorus. Catt, known far and wide, was equally successful in “The Farmer’s Boy.” Singing! Rough and ready it might have been, but what a treat to hear those yeomen “go it.”
The Herald commenced publication in 1891, so “the early days” of the newspaper might be assumed to be the 1890s. There does not seem to have been a farmer in the Ham Street district around this time named Thomas Catt, but “Tom Catt” could very well be a nickname, probably for Robert Catt, who was indeed a poultry farmer at Ham Street for several decades.
Robert Martin Catt, 1846-1903
He was baptised at St Mary the Virgin, Orlestone on 30th March 1846. His parents were Sarah née Martin, and Robert, who worked as a carrier. In 1861 Robert Senior’s occupation was given as “Dealer shop keeper”, but in 1871 both father and son were listed as “Poulterer”.
It was probably the elder Robert Catt who appeared as the plaintiff in a couple of court cases reported on in the local press:
Joseph Cobb, lately a master wheel-wright, of Warehorne, appeared to answer a charge of stealing a mutton chop and a piece of suet, valued at 1s., from the van of Robert Catt, carrier, Ham-street. The prisoner, who in the first instance said he took the meat in a joke, now alleged that the meat produced in court was pork and not, mutton. This, however, was disproved, and he was committed for 21 days’ with hard labour.1
At the Dymchurch quarter sessions on Wednesday, Thomas Cobb, 16, was charged with stealing about a hundred of bloated herrings, the property of Mr. Robert Catt, of Hamstreet, Warehorne, on Nov. 27th. The prisoner it may be remembered, was convicted and sentenced to a month’s imprisonment for stealing an overcoat at Hamstreet in October last. As he had been grossly neglected by his parents a great deal of pity was felt for him, and Mr. Catt kindly employed him to sell herrings when he came out of prison. The lad rewarded this by embezzling 7s. he had received for herrings entrusted to him by Mr. Catt to sell, and afterwards getting into the herring hang and taking the herrings he was charged with stealing. He pleaded guilty, and the Recorder sentenced him to four months’ hard labour.2
The younger Robert married Emily Ann Wanstall at Orlestone on 21st May 1873, and by the time of the 1881 census they were living at Ham Street with two daughters and a son – plus two of Robert’s brothers, and Elizabeth and Henry Law who worked as domestic servants. Robert’s occupation was “Poultry merchant”. In 1891 and 1901 he was shown as “Farmer & poulterer”. In the latter year his sons Robert and Alfred were listed as “Poultry dealer” and “Farmer’s son” respectively.
On at least two occasions Robert Catt was mentioned in local newspapers as a singer, both times in relation to concerts held at the Warehorne Board Schools: on 23rd November 1888 the Kent County Examiner and Ashford Chronicle listed “the Misses Catt”, Mr S. Catt and Mr R. Catt as vocalists at a recent concert; while the Kentish Express, 26th January 1889, carried a report where, among numerous other performers – including a Mr Bridger and a Mr Lonkhurst – Mr R. Catt sang “Four jolly smiths”.
Robert Catt died at the age of 56 and was buried at Orlestone on 8th July 1903.
Sam Willett was born at Fulking in Sussex in 1831. When he left the Free School at Henfield, his father Edward – who worked as a shoemaker and grocer at Edburton – taught him bootmaking, but he subsequently learned the craft of baking, and was set up as the village baker in Cuckfield probably by the mid-1850s1; at the time of the 1861 census his occupation was given as “Baker…employing 1 boy”.
His obituary in the Mid-Sussex Times, 10th June 1902, gave this account:
Not caring much for cobbling Mr Willett went to Ditchling to learn baking. After a time, owing to his health breaking down, he had to return home. His ability to write music becoming known to the late Mr. Ambrose Dumsday, Bandmaster of the Cuckfield Old Band, he invited him to join the Band, which he did, and played the tenor trombone. This was in 1850.
The Band was composed of eight members, and they practised once a week at what was then known as the Talbot Tap. Finding the walk from Fulking to Cuckfield too long and tiring a journey [10 miles each way, a 3 hour walk], Mr. Willett had serious thoughts of leaving the Band. Mr Dumsday [also landlord of the Talbot], loathe to lose his services, looked about to see if he could get him something to do in Cuckfield, the result being that Mr Willett took over the baker’s business carried on by a man named Taylor, and by sheer hard work and perseverance got a good deal of patronage.2
As well as the trombone, Sam Willett played the cello in the church band, and was well known as a fiddler for local dances. He came to the attention of Lucy Broadwood, and after she sent him a copy of her father’s Sussex Songs in 1890, he supplied her with over 30 songs. One of these was ‘John Appleby’, which he had heard sung by Kentish hop-pickers.
Sam Willett died at Cuckfield on 5th June 1902, at the age of 71.
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