It’s hard to believe that less than a century ago people still thought that Sussex was a real place and that ordinary Londoners might one day travel there.
Composed by Sam Polson of Unst, in the Shetlands.
“Geld” is the Dutch word for cash, so the only reasonable interpretation of this tune’s title is that it’s about paying off the Devil.
The ONLY one.
Burning the guy isn’t some new-fangled counter-terrorism strategy from 1605. Straw effigies were made during Lent, stoned or otherwise abused and then burnt on Palm Sunday. Whether they represented Judas or something earlier isn’t really clear.
I only really know this tune as one to sing songs to, no reason you couldn’t dance to it though.
Finally got out of the Q mire.
The Q bee, it is in my bonnet.
Padding out the unloved ‘Q’ branch with another Morris tune.
Getting jiggy, C17-style.
Copyright law of the 17th century wasn’t the huge corporate money machine it is now, and besides even the modern dance music scene isn’t below a bit of appropriation (Clyde Stubblefield’s work on James Brown’s Funky Drummer makes him the most sampled drummer in the world, and I just found a third-party recording of that on YouTube to share with you, so yeah). Before the Statue of Anne was enacted in 1710, copyright was enforced privately by the printers’ guild (the Company of Stationers) and even that only after 1662.
What I’m trying to say is that Playford pinched stuff and nobody could stop him, so it’s not always clear where the dances or tunes in the English Dancing Master come from. In this case, however, we have prior art. This tune is listed as Goddesses in his, but appears under this title in the earlier Fitzwilliam Virginal Book (written by Francis Tregian the Younger while he was doing porridge for being a recusant) as a composition by Tregian’s friend, Giles Farnaby.