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> Tony Rose > Songs > Thornaby Woods

Thorneymoor Woods / Thornaby Woods

[ Roud 222 ; Ballad Index E053 ; trad.]

Louis Killen sang the ballad Thorneymoor Woods in 1965 on his Topic LP Ballads and Broadsides. Angela Carter commented in the album's sleeve notes:

Poachers held a place of high esteem in the imagination of country people. The late George Maynard of Sussex had a large number of songs detailing the heroic exploits of poachers in his repertoire—not, perhaps, surprisingly, since he had been something of an expert in the art himself, in his youth. Like true heroes, most poachers bravely face up to misfortune in these songs—whether it is the murderous spite of gamekeepers, or a trip to the country gaol. This epic story of a night's poaching was learnt, not from Maynard, but from an even finer singer, Harry Cox of Catfield, Norfolk, and has a certain quality of tough independence which is part of Cox's immensely virile singing. In spite of its Nottinghamshire locale, the song has been reported from several parts of the country. The cheerful defiance of the unrepentant hero probably accounts for its popularity.

Anne Briggs recorded Thorneymoor Woods in 1971 for her first solo album Anne Briggs; this was reissued on her Fellside and Topic compilation CDs, Classic Anne Briggs and A Collection. A.L. Lloyd commented in the original album's sleeve notes:

From the neighbourhood of Newark in Anne's native Nottinghamshire, this one. The Thornehagh Moor-Fields, a wild 800 acres of woodland, was enclosed and largely cleared at the end of the eighteenth century. Outraged locals, hindered from their age-old practise of taking a rabbit for the pot or a deer for the market, waged guerrilla warfare with the keepers for decades. The ballad is from those desperate days. Anne had the song from Cloff Godbold.

Roy Bailey sang this as Thornaby Woods in the same year – 1971 – on his eponymous first album, Roy Bailey.

Tony Rose recorded Thornaby Woods in 1976 for the charity album The Second Folk Review Record. The sleeve notes comment:

A poaching song set in Nottinghamshire but collected in Worcestershire by H.E.D. Hammond. This version is taken from that printed in Marrow Bones.

Walter Pardon sang Thornaby Woods in a recording by Mike Yates on his 1983 LP Bright Golden Store: Song and Music from Knapton in Norfolk.

James Yorkston sang Thorneymoor Woods in 2009 on his CD and DVD Folk Songs.

Lyrics

Anne Briggs sings Thorneymoor Woods

In Thorneymoor Woods in Nottinghamshire,
Thorneymoor Woods in Nottinghamshire,
Three game-keepers' houses stood three-square,
About a mile from each other they were
Orders they were to look out for the deer.
Fol de rol, tora lie day

Now me and me dogs went out one night
The moon and the stars were shining bright
O'er hedges and ditches, fields and stiles
With my three dogs trotting close by me heels,
To catch a fat buck down in Thorneymoor fields.
Fol de rol, tora lie day

That very first night we had bad luck,
One of me very best dogs got shot
He come to me all bloody and lame
Right sorry I was for to see the same
And not being able to follow the game.
Fol de rol, tora lie day

I searched his wounds and found them slight
'Twas done by a game-keeper out of spite
Well I'll take a stick right tight in me hand
I'll search the woods till I find that man
I'll thrash his old hide right well if I can
Fol de rol, tora lie day

Now I come home and I went to bed
Limping Jack went out in me stead
O'er hedges and ditches, fields and stiles
He found a buck lying on the ground
My little dog has gave him the death-wound.
Fol de rol, tora lie day

And Limping Jack he cut the buck's throat
Tied his legs with good stout rope
And I had a laugh to see Limping Jack
Up in a lane with that buck on his back
Carried it just like a pedlar's pack
Fol de rol, tora lie day

Now we got us a butcher to skin the game
Likewise another to sell the same
And the very first joint as we offered for sale
Was to an old girl she sold bad ale
She had us young lads up in Nottingham gaol
Fol de rol, tora lie day

In Nottingham assizes are you and I
Us three young lads we go to be tried
But the magistrate laughed her all to scorn
He says the old bugger should be forsworn
Into little pieces torn
Fol de rol, tora lie day

In Nottingham assizes are gone and past
Us three young lads go free at last
The bucks and the does will never roam free
A poacher's life is the life for me
A poacher I will always be
Fol de rol, tora lie day