# The Ballad Literature and Popular Music of the Olden Time/Volume 1/Facsimiles

​Plate 1.
Fac-Simile of an English “Sur men’s” Song 13th Century.
Plate 1 (facing the title-page).—“Sumer is icumen in,” from one of the Harleian Manuscripts in the British Museum, No. 978. It is literally a “six men's song,” such as is alluded to in the burlesque romance of The Turnament of Tottenham, and, being of the middle of the thirteenth century, is perhaps the greatest musical curiosity extant. The directions for singing it are in Latin: “Hanc rotam cantare possunt quatuor socii. A paucioribus autem quam a tribus ant saltem duobus non debet dici, preter eos qui dicunt pedem. Canitur autem sic. Tacentibus ceteris, unus inchoat cum hiis qui tenent pedem. Et cum venerit ad primam notam post crucem, inchoat alius, et sic de ceteris. Singuli vero repausent ad pausaciones scriptas, et non alibi, spacio unius longæ note.” [Four companions can sing this Round. It should not, however, be sung by less than three, or at least two, besides those who sing the burden. It is to be sung thus:—One begins with those who sing the burden, the others remaining silent; but when he arrives at the first note after the cross, another begins. The rest follow in the same order. Each singer must pause at the written pauses for the time of one long note, but not elsewhere.] The directions for singing the “Pes,” or Burden, are, to the first voice, “Hoc repetit unus quociens opus est, faciens pausacionem in fine” [One voice repeats this as often as necessary, pausing at the end]; and, to the second, “Hoc dicit alius, pausans in medio, et non in fine, sed immediate repetens principium.” [Another sings this, pausing in the middle, and not at the end, but immediately re-commencing.]
The melody of this Round is printed in modern notation at p. 24, and in the pages which precede it (21 to 24) the reader will find some account of the manuscript from which it is taken. It only remains to add that the composition is in what was called “perfect time,” and therefore every long note must be treated as dotted, unless it is immediately followed by a short note (here of diamond shape) to fill the time of the dot. The music is on six lines, and if the lowest line were taken away, the remaining would be the five now employed in part-music where the C clef is used on the third line for a counter-tenor voice.
The composition will be seen in score in Hawkins’s and Burney’s Histories of Music. The Round has been recently sung in public, and gave so much satisfaction, even to modern hearers, that a repetition was demanded. It is published in a detached form for four voices.
Plate 2.—“Ah, the syghes that come fro’ my heart,” from a manuscript of the time of Henry VIII., in the British Museum (MSS. Reg., Append., 58). For the melody in modern notation, see p. 57.
​In transcribing old music without bars, it is necessary to know that the ends of phrases and of lines of poetry are commonly expressed by notes of longer duration than their relative value. Much of the music in Stafford Smith’s Musica Antiqua is wrongly barred, and the rhythm destroyed by the non-observance of this rule. As one of many instances, see “Tell me, dearest, what is love,” taken from a manuscript of James the First’s time (Mus. Antiq., i. 55). By carrying half the semibreve at the end of the second bar into the third, he begins the second line of poetry (“’Tis a lightning from above”) on the half-bar instead of at the commencement, and thus falsifies the accent of that line and of all that follows. The antiquarian way would have been, either to print the semibreve within the bar, or, which is far better, a minim with a pause over it. In modernizing the notation, even the pause is unnecessary. Webbe also bars incorrectly in the Convito Armonico. For instance, in “We be three poor mariners,” the tune is right the first time, but at the recurrence (on “Shall we go dance the Round, the Round, the Round?”) he commences on the half-bar, because he has given too much time to the word “ease” in the bar immediately preceding.
Plate 3.—“Green Sleeves,” a tune mentioned by Shakespeare, from “William Ballet’s Lute Book,” described in note $^b$ at p. 86. This is the version I have printed at p. 230, but an exact translation of the copy will be found in my “National English Airs,” i. 118. It is only necessary to remark that, in lute-music of the sixteenth century, bars are placed rather to guide the eye than to divide the tune equally. The time marked over the lines is the only sure guide for modern barring.
Plate 4.—“Sellenger’s Round,” from a manuscript in the Fitzwilliam Museum, at Cambridge, commonly known as “Queen Elizabeth”s Virginal Book.” See also p. 71.
Dr. Burney speaks of this manuscript first as “going under the name of Queen Elizabeth’s Virginal Book,” and afterwards quotes it as if it had really been so. I am surprised that he should not have discovered the error, considering that he had it long enough in his possession to extract one of the pieces, and to give a full description of the contents. (iii. 86, et seq.) It is now so generally known by that name, that, for brevity’s sake, I have employed it throughout the work. Nevertheless, it can never have been the property of Queen Elizabeth. It is written throughout in one handwriting, and in that writing are dates of 1603, 1605, and 1612.
It is a small-sized folio volume, in red morocco binding of the time of James I., elaborately tooled and ornamented with fleurs de lis, &c., gilt edges, and the pages are numbered to 419, of which 418 are written.
The manuscript was purchased at the sale of Dr. Pepusch’s collection, in 1762, by R. Bremner, the music-publisher, at the price of ten guineas, and by him given to Lord Fitzwilliam.
Ward gives an account of Dr. Bull’s pieces included in this virginal book, in his Lives of the Gresham Professors, fol., 1740, p. 203, but does not say a word of the volume having belonged to Queen Elizabeth. We first hear of it in Dr. Pepusch’s possession, and, as he purchased many of his manuscripts in Holland (especially those including Dr. Bull’s compositions), it is by no means improbable that this English manuscript may also have been obtained there. I am led to the conjecture by finding the only composer’s name invariably abbreviated is that of “Tregian.” At the commencement of Verstegan’s Restitution of decayed Intelligence, Antwerp, 1605, is a ​“sonnet concerning this work,” signed “Fr. Tregian,” shewing the connection of the family with Holland, and in the virginal book one piece (No. 105, p. 196) has only three letters of the author’s name, “Fre.” No. 60, p. 111, is “Treg. Ground;” No. 80, p. 152, is “Pavana dolorosa, Treg.;” but No. 213, p. 315, is “Pavana Chromatica, Mrs. Katherin Tregian’s Paven, by William Tisdall.” In the margin of p. 812, is written, in a later hand, “R. Rysd silas.”
English music was so much in request in Holland in the early part of the seventeenth century, that this collection of two hundred and ninety-six pieces of virginal music may, not improbably, have been made for, or by, an English resident there, and possibly designed as a present.
Plate 5.—“The Hunt’s Up,” from Musick’s Delight on the Cithren, 1666, and “Parthenia,” from a flageolet book, printed in 1682.
These are only given as specimens of musical notation. The curious will find exact translations in National English Airs, i. 118.
​Plate 2.
A Song in the Ordinary Musican Notation of the time of Henry VIII.
​Plate 3.
Lute Music of the time of Queen Elizabeth from William Ballet’s Lute Book.
​Plate 4.
Sellinger’s Round from the Manuscript known as Queen Elizabeth’s Virginal Book.
​Plate 5.
Cittern Music. 17th Century.
Flageolet Music. 17th Century.