> A.L.Lloyd > Songs > The Drunken Maidens
> Steeleye Span > Songs > Tim Hart & Maddy Prior: Three Drunken Maidens

The Drunken Maidens

[Trad.]

A.L. Lloyd sang The Drunken Maidens on his 1962 album English Drinking Songs, accompanied by Al Jeffery on Banjo. Lloyd said in the album's sleeve notes:

The song of the four Rabelaisian girls of the Isle of Wight spread from the far south of England to every boozing den where good singers gathered. Two hundred years ago the ballad was hawked from door to door, contained in a saucy songbook titled: Charming Phylis' Garland. Many have asked: Why the Isle of Wight? Long ago the island was the harbour of smugglers, and cheap liquor leads to prodigious drinking. It is pleasant to think that the Isle of Wight, now chiefly famous as the home of the snooty Royal Yacht Squadron, once rang with the laughter of bouncing Sally and her mates.

A.L. Lloyd recorded this again as Four Drunken Maidens in 1966 for his album English Drinking Songs, accompanied by Dave Swarbrick on fiddle. Lloyd commented in the album's sleeve notes:

A hosanna to a band of ribald and riotous girls, gread models for Rowlandson, rocking on the Isle of Wight. Before the days of the Royal Yacht Squadron and the boardinghouse landladies, the little island was a prime place for smugglers of wines and spirits who unloaded their contraband in secret coves, before conveying it across the Solent to the mainland. Excisemen prowled the streets with a bloodhound's nose for the hidden hogsheads, but night after night, a chronicler tells us, “the cellars of the Isle shook with the stamp and thwack of carousal.” Our delicious quartet of bacchantes fits well such a scene. The song belogs to the mid-eighteenth century, but it spread like wildfire, reaching the far north of England by the 1760's. The tune we use is the standard one in the southern countries, but the fiddle melody at the start and finish is the north-eastern version as it appears in the tunebook that William Vickers, a musician of the North Tyne vilage of Wark, wrote of for himself in 1770.

Tim Hart and Maddy Prior recorded this song as Three Drunken Maidens for their third duo album Summer Solstice. A live recording of this song by Steeleye Span - probably from a BBC Radio Concert session in early 1973 - can be found on the compilation The Harvest of Gold.

Lyrics

A.L.Lloyd sings	Tim Hart & Maddy Prior sing
There were three drunken maidens Come from the Isle of Wight, They drunk from Monday morning Nor stopped till Saturday night. When Saturday night did come, me lads, They wouldn't then go out. Not them three drunken maidens, As they pushed the jug about.	There were three drunken maidens Came from the Isle of Wight, They drunk from Monday morning Nor stopped till Saturday night. When Saturday night did come, me boys, They wouldn't then go out. These three drunken maidens, They pushed the jug about.
Then in comes bouncing Sally, With her cheeks as red as blooms. Move up me jolly sisters, And give young Sally some room. For I will be your equal Before that I go out. So now four drunken maidens, They pushed the jug about.	Then in comes bouncing Sally, Her cheeks as red as blooms. Move up me jolly sisters, And give young Sally some room. For I will be your equal Before the night is out. These four drunken maidens, They pushed the jug about.
It was woodcock and pheasant And partridge and hare, And every sort of dainties, No scarcity was there. There was forty quarts of beer, me boys, They fairly drunk it out. And them four drunken maidens, They pushed the jug about.	There's woodcock and pheasant, There's partridge and hare. There's all sorts of dainties, No scarcity was there. There's forty quarts of beer, me boys, They fairly drunk them out. These four drunken maidens, They pushed the jug about.
And up there come the landlord, Asking for his pay. And a forty pound bill, me lads, Them gals was forced to pay. They had ten pounds apiece, me boys, Ad yet they wouldn't go out. But them four drunken maidens, They pushed the jug about.	But up comes the landlord, He's asking for his pay. It' a forty pound bill, me boys These gals have got to pay. That's ten pounds apiece, me boys, But still they wouldn't go out. These four drunken maidens, They pushed the jug about.
Oh where are your feathered hats, Your mantles rich and fine? They've all been swallowed up, In tankards of good wine. And where are your maidenheads, You maidens brisk and gay? We left them in the alehouse For we drank them clean away.	Oh where are your feathered hats, Your mantles rich and fine? They've all been swallowed up, In tankards of good wine. And where are your maidenheads, You maidens brisk and gay? We left them in the alehouse, We drank them clean away