What Does This Book Remember?

Muirland Willie, a song in a pupil's edition of Book 3 of Nelson's Scots Song Books.

This isn’t really a scholarly post – just a reflection.

One of my informants remembers singing ‘Muirland Willie’ as their Silver Medal entry, and I was chuffed to find it in my Nelson’s Scots Song Book, Book 3 (‘words edition’). And yes, the ‘words edition’ does contain the melody line as well – just not the piano part.

Title page, Book 3 (pupil’s edition)

The book had reached me third hand – or was it fourth? How many hands has it passed through since someone stamped ‘Rockwell Primary School, November 1952’ on the title page? This tells me it was bought by a Dundee school the year it was first published. It must have lived in a class collection for some years, at some point ending up in a private home, and finally being sold to a friend of a friend, who generously got it on my behalf.

It’s a little bit battered, so it obviously got well-used. One page bears a carefully drawn treble clef – pretty accurate but not yet fluent – someone had been learning how to write music, evidently! Meanwhile, the back inside cover has a scrawled ‘THE END’! Was there a sigh of relief, or was it just an irresistibly blank page demanding to be scrawled on?

If Books Could Talk

I wonder how many Leng medal competitors used this copy? If books could talk, this one would surely recall feelings not only of excitement, enjoyment and pride, but also occasionally fear, nerves and perhaps embarrassment – all emotions that my interviewees have shared with me.

It would remember teachers who are still remembered half a century later; not to mention head teachers and deputy heads whose own musicality ensured that they gave music its proper place in the schools that they led.

The principal teacher of music at that time […] was a redoubtable lady and she made sure everybody knew everything …1

But I’d better put my little book away and get back to my interview transcriptions now!

  1. Secondary school pupil commenting on Leng medal singing classes ↩︎

Since Singing is so Good a Thing …

I was chatting yesterday with someone who has had a lot of involvement with the Leng Medal Scots song competitions over the years.  They shared with me a couple of lines of verse that summed up their own philosophy.  When I looked it up to see who first wrote the words, I was gobsmacked to find it goes back to … 1588! The words are by courtesy of an old English composer, William Byrd, in his book of Psalmes, Sonets and Songs. [sic] Here are the lines of verse that were shared with me:-

Since singing is so good a thing,
I wish all men would learne to sing.’

You can see it in context on a blog dedicated to historical singing,
Cacophony! Reimagining Historical Voices‘.

William Byrd


You might not agree with all Byrd’s reasons, but at least some of them still ring very true!  Singing is good for you. It has mental, physical and social benefits.

In Dundee, Sir John Leng would surely have agreed wholeheartedly.  With the added incentive of keeping the Scots song tradition alive!

On this Day in 1953: the Practicalities of Compiling a Scots Song Book

Nelsons's Scots Song Book no.4 - contents page in pupil's book, and the teacher's book cover

At some point, I’ll be making a list of the songs that juvenile Leng Scots Song Medal competitors recall singing as their competition entries. It’ll be interesting to compare them against the lists I’ve compiled in connection with a number of Scottish song books. Some kids (a few) chose a song that was entirely their own selection. Most seem to have been offered and taught a short selection of songs, from which they then made their choice.

What goes into a published song book like the four Nelson’s Scots Song Books, though? It was a combination of the compilers’ choice and, occasionally, printer’s practicality.

73 Years Ago …

On this day, 4 June 1953, the then editor of the fourth song book had received the initial proofs from Aird and Coghill the printer, and wrote to James Easson (the Dundonian Music Supervisor collaborating with Herbert Wiseman), to say that they needed two more songs to fill five more pages. Pure practicality! Moreover, the editor was leaving for a new job soon, and was keen to get the publication as far advanced as possible before they left.

Reading the correspondence, it looks as though, in response, Easson supplied ‘Ae fond kiss’ (which ended up occupying three pages) and ‘Maggie Lauder’.

Job done? No. The printers said that ‘Maggie Lauder’ had been supplied incomplete. Moreover, another song, ‘As I came over the Cairney Mount’ was too short. Neither ‘Maggie’ nor ‘Cairney Mount’ appeared in the finished publication. It looks as though an abbreviated ‘I wish I were where Helen Lies’ (occupying one page) was supplied instead. (Three and one do not equal five, but it’s of no consequence now!) But it all goes to show how much to-ing and fro-ing took place before a book is published in its final form.

And has either song even been used as a medallist’s performed entry? I don’t know. I haven’t interviewed that many people! But I’ll be going through my transcripts, so who knows?

Silver and Gold Leng Medal Memories, Update no.3. Posh Scots and Everyday Scots – the ‘Scottish Cringe’

Merson - Head of a boy singing (Creative Commons licence)

It’s time for another update on the research that the Royal  Conservatoire of Scotland has awarded me an Athenaeum Award to conduct.

By the end of tomorrow I’ll have interviewed some 25 or so Leng medallists who were awarded their silver and gold medals between the 1960s and 1990s. They went to a wide range of schools, though one or two schools have featured more than once. And they sang a wide range of songs. Some were nervous, some excited. Some knew they could sing – others were surprised to win – and all were overjoyed to be winners. I’ve been shown a lot of medals, proudly kept through the decades.

Interestingly, social media has been very helpful in augmenting my research findings. On Facebook, I’ve found folk in groups like Dundee Pals enjoy answering quick questions, and their answers are often highly informative. When I asked how many people had three or more family members with medals, the number of replies was quite remarkable!

The ‘Scottish Cringe’?

It wasn’t until last weekend when I conducted a face-to-face interview in Dundee, that someone mentioned ‘the Scottish cringe’. I guessed what that meant, and when it was explained to me, it was rather as I had guessed. It refers to the inferiority complex that many in Scotland have, having grown up in a Scotland that felt it was always subordinate to England, and looked down on by many politicians south of the border. I did look up where the phrase originated, but I only made a hasty search, so I’ll hold my tongue until I am sure of my facts. An article in Glasgow University Magazine last year provides useful context:-

Didi Marina Salonia, Death to “Scottish Cringe” (28 April 2025)

In the context of my research into the Leng medal competitions, it occasionally led to pupils being encouraged to sing their songs in a refined, sanitised kind of accent – not exactly English, but certainly toned-down Scots. I’m sensing that this happened more amongst older medallists, and hopefully children now are encouraged to use their own natural accent – as they’d speak – rather than trying to put on something uncomfortably clipped and unnatural. Again, Facebook has been very helpful here – 38 comments in reply to my question! I’m bowled over.

“I was talking to a friend about the Leng medals yesterday and an interesting thing came up. Who was encouraged to sing their Scots song in their natural everyday accent? Did anyone get told to sing it ‘nicely’ in a posh concert-platform accent?!”

For the rest of this month, I’ll be going through my recordings and transcriptions, looking for interesting threads and making sure I have tabulated schools, songs and the names of long-remembered teachers! I’m also going to look at some archival material, which excites me considerably. Hopefully I could find further evidence of Mr Easson (and perhaps Mr Wiseman), the compilers of the Nelson Scots Song Books, around the time the books were published – and introduced into Dundee schools.

Excess Annual Leave Balance

I am taking annual leave in July. (If I don’t, I lose it, and that would never do.)

I won’t be capable of NOT blogging for a whole month, apart from which I do like to think that if someone comes back here after a couple of weeks away, there will always be something new for them to find. What it will be, I cannot yet say! (Additionally, as you’ll have noticed, I have a couple of research side-interests, so who knows what my month’s vacation might lead me to, if I feel the urge to investigate sudden bright ideas?)

Image: Head of a Boy Singing, by Merson (Creative Commons)

Expedition to Glasgow Women’s Library

In search of a Victorian-era suffrage connection, I made a trip to Bridgeton. I sat on the rather beautiful carpet, studying  suffrage organisations in Scotland.  (We musicologists know how to have a good time!)  But was there any mention of the women I was looking for?

No.

(Yes – I did jinx my trip by wearing Suffragette colours!)

However, I found an interesting fact about someone else. ( I subsequently spent several hours at home trying to fit this into what I already knew. And I couldn’t.)

However, it wasn’t a wasted trip.  I saw several useful books I hadn’t previously known of.  I’ve asked questions.

Barking up the Wrong Tree?

Indeed, armed with a couple more dates, I can see that there must have been many situations when women sympathised with the cause, but were not in a position to take an active part: caring obligations, age, disability or living too far from big cities like Glasgow or Edinburgh in terms of early organised activities. I could be looking, at least in one case, for involvement which would not have been feasible.  (I shall not leave any stone unturned in terms of other lines of enquiry, all the same!)

Moreover,  before heading home again, I crossed London Road for coffee and a flapjack. At least I had the satisfaction of knowing I’d had elevenses a short distance along the road (formerly called London Street) from where ‘my’ ladies once lived.

I suppose you win some, you lose some. It was a lovely day for an outing, anyway!

Print and Tourism (Peter Lang, 2026), with a Chapter on Mozart Allan’s ‘The Glories of Scotland’

An exciting email from the Print Networks Council popped into my inbox this week, announcing a new publication. It contains a chapter that evolved from a paper I submitted back in the pandemic. Yes, I mentioned Mozart Allan’s Glories of Scotland in my book, A Social History of Amateur Music-Making and National Identity, but I have treated it more extensively in this new chapter. It’s not every day that a musicologist gets to think about the Festival of Britain, book exhibitions, and post-war tourism. I thoroughly enjoyed both the researching and the writing of it – and I’m really looking forward to seeing an actual copy!

The latest volume in the Print Networks series has now been published; copies may be ordered via this link: https://www.peterlang.com/series/phc – where previous volumes in the series are also available.

Print and Tourism (the latest in the series)

38 Years in Glasgow

Me in self-made evening dress, with Fergie the cat, in our Springburn flat

38 years ago today, we (my husband and I, and the cat) moved from North Shields on Tyneside, to Springburn in Glasgow. I swear the vet hadn’t given Fergie a strong enough sedative for his journey, because he yowled every time we slowed down. Nonetheless, he staggered drunkenly from his travelling crate when we reached our new home.

I had a couple of music degrees, a librarianship qualification, and was a chartered librarian. I’d abandoned a PhD (on mediaeval English cantus firmus treatment in the Eton Choirbook, don’t you know?) a couple of years earlier – and I knew NOTHING about Scottish music. Research fellowships weren’t even on my horizon. I had only ever published small things in my capacity as a music librarian.

Where did the time go?!

We now have three adult sons and no cat. I completed another PhD and a teaching certificate, and gained Fellowship of CILIP. (I relinquished membership when I left the library.) I know ‘a bit’ about Scottish music, have published quite a lot, and added other fellowships to my CV.

No-one ever said, ‘You’ll live to regret abandoning doctoral studies …’

If you’d told the 1988 version of myself what I’d achieve in all those librarianly years, I doubt she’d have believed you. I really just wanted to make it up to myself for not completing the first doctorate.

It all started when we set off from North Shields, behind the removal van.

A fabric collage interpretation showing a Springburn street junction with tenements, a tram and a white car. Two people in bottom left corner - it was too fiddly to add the many people in the original photo!
Our first tenement flat – the pink sandstone block, centre back (collage ‘interpretation’ of a vintage black and white photo)

Nelson’s Scots Song Books 1-4: Pupil’s Editions

Nelson's Scots Song Book Pupil's Edition, Books 1-4

Thanks to the kindness of a friend of a friend, I received books 3 and 4 of the Nelson’s Scots Song Book through the post today. Well, what else could I do but take a photo of them?! I’ve longed for ages to have the complete set, and now I do.

I have already learned something new. The first two books had little black-and-white line drawings wherever there was a blank bit of page, and apparently the pupils loved these. And then …

I think there was a bit of cost-cutting going on! But I don’t recall any correspondence with the editors James Easson and Herbert Wiseman to advise them of this. I’ll need to go back through my notes!

Suddenly – the pictures stopped!
  • Book 1 – published 1948; reprinted until at least 1960.
  • Book 2 – 1950; reprinted until at least 1964.
  • Book 3 – 1952. I don’t currently know if it was reprinted!
  • Book 4 – January 1955; reprinted at least in 1956. (The teacher’s book came out in 1954)

Eagerly Anticipating this Conference: ‘Women and Musical Histories 1789-1914’

It’s a stroke of good luck that my recent research just fits into the scope of this conference, which is taking place at the Royal Academy of Music in London from 2-4 September this year. I’d agreed with my line-manager that I should attend, but I confess I needed a little nudge to actually complete my registration, since my head has been whirling with oral history interviews and the trip down south last weekend.

Women and Musical Histories, 1789–1914

I’m going to give a paper at the conference, comparing the careers of two of my musical ‘heroines’. One featured in my recent RMA Chronicle article on ladies connected with the Scottish music publishing trade; the other has been mentioned by me elsewhere, but moved in completely different circles, in a different stratum of society. Anyway, the conference cut-off date of 1914 enables me to bring them together in my paper, so I’m looking forward to this opportunity to think about them again as I settle down to write it!

Image by Oberholster Venita from Pixabay

Measuring Time in Half-Centuries

The hated olive green school uniform!

Since I work part-time (1.5 days a week), taking the day off effectively means taking nearly a week off. I’ve been home to Norwich for a fiftieth school reunion – fifty years since we left Norwich High School for Girls, GDST.

In fact, the weekend was significant in three different ways – as well as my school reunion, Dr Edward Harper’s Kilbarchan organ was inaugurated at St Marien, Prenzlau in Germany, and Old Gourock and Ashton Church celebrated its 250th anniversary. But I couldn’t be everywhere at once, so off I went to the reunion, whilst my husband went to the church where he had enjoyed being organist for a number of years. (I drooled over the Facebook postings about Prenzlau, where they seem to have had a fabulous series of concerts and talks in what looks like an absolutely stunning church. Dr Harper would doubtless have been highly impressed. And what lovely sounds were heard on the brief clips that were shared!)

I’m so glad I went to Norwich. I’m prone to focus on negative memories, but everyone was really welcoming, and it was great catching up with what everyone had done, and where they’d been. No-one else had a negative memory of one particular teacher who really did not like me! Then again, I’d kept in touch with the other member of that department for 25 years, and she’d even visited and stayed with us in Glasgow.

Old School Tie

I heard stories that I’d never heard before, and was reminded of things that I did vaguely remember. We were shown round the school, exclaiming over the changes and remembering the familiar. The archivist was there, and there were photos and other memorabilia to examine. That awful olive-green uniform!

It was surprising to find that several people had moved away from Norwich, but later moved back. That’s not going to happen for me. Someone who researches Scottish music or social history of Scottish music, is hardly going to remove themselves 400-odd miles south! Some people had continued with interests that they already had at school. Others had taken completely different directions, whether to the upper echelons of corporate life, arable farming or a whole lot of other avenues. I did appear to be the only semi-retired postdoctoral researcher! And if my Scottish music publishers didn’t evince a great deal of enthusiastic interest, then – yet again – oral history research certainly did. People are interested in oral history, interested in memories in general and particularly interested in memories of their school days and school music.

And the trip itself was a nice break. Indeed, I knitted a whole mansized sock on the various legs of my train/replacement coach journey, discovering that knitting can sometimes start unexpected conversations! People like reminiscing about that, too…

I’d better get back to my Leng Medal memories. Today, it’s time to contact people who remember participating in the 1990s – long after I’d left school myself!