Derby’s Ram
The exact way that I remember Cas and Vergie Wallin from when I was a little kid in the 1970’s.
Photograph copyright Rob Amberg 2020. Photograph courtesy of the Photographer.
Darby’s Ram (a.k.a: The Derby Ram / The Ram of Derbish Town / The Yorkshire Tup); No. 141; page 184 ii
Recording of mother singing the song, recorded by Sam Gleeves
The irony that Derby’s Ram is the first ballad I learn on this journey is not lost on me. Although this song is not among the ballads that I was drawn to as a child, it is among the first that I remember being sung by the old timers. When mother and I initially discussed the ballads that I would learn during this process, I came to the realization that Cas Wallin and I have similar tastes in ballads and he is the one that I remember most clearly. He and his wife Vergie loom large in my mind, though by all accounts they were both quite diminutive in size. Cas had a huge voice and an even bigger personality. I remember he had a funny laugh and twinkling blue eyes. I remember Vergie as a skinny, curly haired lady with a soft voice and a true love of children, perhaps because she was never blessed with offspring. I mentioned to mother that my memories of Vergie portray her as a meek, sweet, huggy person who told me how great I was all the time. She was forever commenting that if she had ever had children, she would want one just like me. Mother laughed and told me she was a tough old bird who could be sassy and did not hesitate to be hateful when the situation called for it. Mother said Vergie simply loved me and thought I was an amazing kid. We spent a lot of time with Cas and Vergie. Given their childless state, she and other younger relatives saw to their care.
I love Cas stories best of all because they are always funny and tend toward the risqué. I clearly remember hearing Cas sing Derby’s Ram. It is a song that first praises the magnificence of a huge ram and then discusses the butchering of said ram. I hated that song. I would narrow my eyes and stare at Cas, wishing he had never started singing it. I would think to myself, “Old man, I ain’t never learning THAT damn song.” Like with most ballads, my imagination would kick in and I could see, hear, smell the entire story laid out before me. I thought of Derby’s Ram as a serious song about murder and animal cruelty. For almost 50 years I have avoided it at all costs. Mother, with her infinite wisdom and sick sense of humor, chose it as the first. Heaving a mighty sigh, I reluctantly agreed, consigning myself to suffer. Imagine my surprise, no DELIGHT, when I realized that it was a really sweet, funny song with a catchy tune. I realized that I had never listened beyond the ‘…washed away in the blood’ verse. This project is bringing back so many memories of my toddlerhood and childhood. Then, I saw ballads in a sort of fairy tale sense, stories told that did not always have a happy ending but that always sparked my overactive imagination.
Derby (the pronunciation got changed to DARBY somewhere along the way) is a town in the center of England, 113 miles from London. Derby’s Ram, the traditional folk tale turned ballad, is thought to be at least from the 1760’s, if not before. Derby itself is very proud of the song and even has a stone statue of a ram in its town center. The ram has become a mascot for many groups within the town. Also, there are many versions of Derby’s Ram, including ones by Grandpa Jones and Merle Travis. The most shocking version is a sea shanty on one of my son’s favorite video games, Assassin’s Creed. Ain’t that truly where the rubber meets the road!?
Oh yeah…A yeoman is a highly regarded, highly paid servant or a person in the military. I don’t know why they, in particular, would scoot for a place to hide. And a nickel would be worth about $2.00 now LOL.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Update 3/20/21
The most hilarious thing happened yesterday during a visit at mother’s house (we have all had our SHOT!) with Bobby McMillon. I found out that I had totally mis-heard a lyric in Derby’s Ram and we had a good old laugh about it on Mother’s front porch. When Mother sang it for me, I recorded it on my audio app and transcribed the verses later into my website. It wasn’t “…sending all the YEOMEN in England a scootin’ for a place to hide!” I thought that line ridiculous from the start but accepted it as just one of them ballad things. I happened to mention to Bobby that I simply did not understand the reference. Bobby said, looking confused and mildly disgusted, “Well yes, there’s a reason for that…you have the wrong damn words.” In fact, it was actually “…sending all the EWES in England a scootin’ for a place to hide.” What threw me is that Mother pronounced EWES as YO’s, which Bobby assured me had dialectic roots in Scotland. I made a fabulous recording of him explaining this to me which I have included below. Be sure you listen until the end because my big old horse laugh gets all up in the way of hearing the very best part. Maybe one day I will get this editing thing down a little better. Once we figured out the problem, I realized that we had just shared an in the moment experience where a ballad could have been changed for generations to come just because the collector heard a word wrong. Plus, the verse just makes so much more SENSE now.