Too Many Thoughts, Too Little Time! Leng Medal Memories Update No.7.

Silver Leng Medal for singing Scots songs, on blue ribbon

To recap – I have done oral history interviews with a number of people who participated in Dundee’s Leng Medal competitions for Scots song singing – mostly as children, but a few teachers have also talked with me. I’ve checked the transcriptions of 25 out of the total 27 interviews, and I also have a few emailed responses too. If you’re one of the people I’ve interviewed or emailed, then can I offer a big thank you, right now, because I now have lots and lots of information and memories. I really am very grateful. I couldn’t have done this without you. You’ve shared your memories, you’ve made me smile, and some of you have even sung to me. Who could ask for more generosity of spirit than that?

So, what’s next?

Four Nelson's Scots Song Books
  • Writing. (Writing for the popular, non-academic press, and then writing a book chapter.)
  • An event, hopefully. Still under discussion.
  • A book about Thomas Nelson’s educational music publishing, or something along those lines.

And I have more than one string to my bow. I’m also still researching …

The Trumpet Major’s Youngest Daughter

Slightly crumpled conference bag (it has already endured both London and Scottish rain!)

After my talk at the recent Royal Academy of Music conference, Women and Musical Histories, 1789-1914, I have continued researching Rose Smith’s life. I’ve already found out more, and tomorrow I’m off to consult an archive where I hope some of my still outstanding questions might be answered. I foresee a [second, more focused] research trip to Rose’s birthplace in the near future, before our Scottish days get short and wintry!

I’d also like to organise another event! But I really must focus on getting the Dundee research written up and celebrated before I get consumed by this other research thread.

It’s a good thing I’m semi-retired, really! If I was still cataloguing jazz CDs in the library, I certainly wouldn’t have time to plan research expeditions without taking annual leave.

The Lure of the Chase (and eBay Ecourages me)

Auctioneer's gavel (picture from eBay)

Ah, holidays! The sun shines, whole empty days lie ahead of me, and what do I do?

As I said before, I enjoy more of my favourite creative activities, then I’m drawn back – again – to my research. Specifically, to James Easson, the Dundee music supervisor. He doesn’t seem to have had children, but I’ve spoken to a few people who do still remember him. As one of the compilers of the Nelson’s Scots Song Book series, I’m naturally interested in him as a person, and his career.

Knowing which school he attended, I had a little search on eBay again the other day. I found a school annual report from a year or two after he would probably have left. I looked with interest, because I absolutely love ephemera. (It could be in my genes – one of my uncles, a graphic artist, collected labels and tins, long before there was an internet, just because he loved their typefaces and designs.) Anyway, I examined the images carefully – they had been generously provided – made a couple of notes and moved on. It was too expensive for something which wasn’t likely to tell me anything about James Easson.

I had, however, favourited it. eBay duly reminded me that I’d looked at it. Did I want to look again?

I looked. It was still too expensive.

A couple of days later, eBay shrewdly suggested that I might be interested to know that the vendor was willing to sell it at a discount. Uh-oh! I looked at the images again. There were plenty, but the page numbers showed that there were plenty more that I couldn’t see. I could see the cost of private music lessons. What else was I not seeing? I couldn’t bear not to know!

The thing is, even if it has no mention whatsoever of James Easson – and I think it’s unlikely, because I’m guessing he might have left school before the age of 18 – it certainly will give me a profile of the school that he (and that other publisher’s senior editor, who is no part of the story at all) attended. What if there’s more about music? Or choirs, or orchestras? Or something else that I can’t predict?!

I hesitated. The bottom line is always, will I kick myself if I let this offer go by me? (I have a painting by Carlo Volti, for this very reason. I couldn’t not have it!) Finally, I bargained with myself. I’d make a lower offer. If it was declined, then I wouldn’t get it.

Really?! Why on earth did she get that?!

But it worked. I’m getting that school annual report! One day in the future – hopefully long in the future – my sons will be clearing through my effects, and one will say to the others, ‘Why on earth did she …. ?’

Well, dear reader – you know now!

On This Day in 1946

Four Nelson's Scots Song Books

On 18 June 1946, Herbert Wiseman wrote to publisher Thomas Nelsonโ€™s editor suggesting a meeting about their proposed Scots Song Book series.

It took another two years before the first of four books rolled off the press.

I’ll be writing much more about this series later this year!

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 โ†ฉ๏ธŽ

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?

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)

Who is this Woman Researching the Dundee Leng Medal Competition? Introducing Dr Karen McAulay

If you’ve found a link to my brief questionnaire on Facebook, and wondered who I am and what I’m up to, then maybe I should introduce myself properly?

So … McAulay is my name, but as soon as you speak to me, you’ll realise I’m not Scottish.  I’m the only member of our household that isn’t! However, I’ve lived in Glasgow since 1988 – more than half my life. 

I do have a connection with Dundee through the Friends of Wighton – I’m Honorary Librarian of the Friends of Wighton, who promote the Wighton Collection in the Central Library. It’s a very old, historical collection of Scottish music publications, and I’m just available in an advisory capacity – I’m not in any way employed by the city of Dundee. I do enjoy this connection with Dundee, though. I have often consulted the old music books since before I even started my PhD, so I appreciate their significance. I’ve written about them, and about Andrew Wighton, who was their original collector.

Since I started my career in a public library – in South Shields on Tyneside, as a music librarian – I rather like having this loosely continued connection with public libraries, too.

I do have another link with Dundee, through my writing.ย ย  I’ve written both fiction and non-fiction, and the fiction was for D. C. Thomson’s The People’s Friend, during my earlier years in Glasgow.ย  But since getting started on my research, I’ve only really written about music and social history (and occasionally, libraries!).


I’m a research fellow at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland in Glasgow. For most of my career, I was a music librarian at the Conservatoire, but I did a mid-career doctorate at the University of Glasgow, and a few years after getting my PhD, I started being seconded to the Conservatoire’s research department – basically, I split my time between the library and a research desk elsewhere.

Nowadays, I’m just doing the research part of my role – I retired from the library.

My research has always been into Scottish printed music of one kind or another – songs, fiddle music, old music in libraries, publishers who published Scottish music or Scottish publishers who published music.

My most recent research has been into Thomas Nelsonโ€™s, the Edinburgh publishers.  They published a set of four Scots Song books for school use, and one of the editors was in charge of music in Dundee schools – so not surprisingly, these books were used a fair bit! Anyway, that’s how I got interested in the Leng Scots Song prizes.  I’m keen to know what competitors remember of their experiences, and if they continued singing Scottish songs later in life.

I’ve had a great response so far. I’ll start having chats with people soon.  But if you would still like to get in touch, it’s not too late. Please just visit this link!

https://tinyurl.com/LengMemories

Now, About a Fifth Book of Scottish Songs?

Nelson's Scots Song Book, Book Four. The last in the series.

Yesterday, I highlighted the 85th anniversary of the Blitz that destroyed Paternoster Row on Sunday 29th December 1940 – and with it, Thomas Nelson’s London premises.

Today, 30th December, we leap forward to 1954. The Second World War had ended nine years earlier. The country was picking itself up again, and James Easson and Herbert Wiseman had published four books of Scottish songs in the series, ‘Nelson’s Scots Song Book, primarily for school use. I’ve done a lot of research into this series, during my Heritage Collections visiting Fellowship at IASH in the University of Edinburgh, so I’m sure you’ll understand that I won’t be saying much about it today – all will be revealed in due course! However, I can reveal that Easson seems to have written a letter to his editor on 30th December 1954, with the expectation of compiling a fifth book. The letter is no longer extant, but the carbon copy of their reply survives.

There was no fifth book.

The Blitz – 85 Years ago, Tonight

This week in Scottish publishing history:-

There ain’t no Paternoster Row

Those were the words of a London Bobby (policeman) the following day, when someone asked about the bombing damage.

Luckily, Thomas Nelson had moved quite a few staff up to their Edinburgh offices at the start of the Second World War,ย  but some remained in London. But the London offices at 35-36 Paternoster Row were destroyed in the Blitz, on Sunday 29 Dec 1940.ย 

I find myself wondering how strange – indeed, traumatic – it must have been, to head into work the next morning and find first of all, that public transport was disrupted, and then later, by whatever means, to learn that the firm’s premises were flattened.

Temporary premises were found with another publisher, Duckworth at 3 Henrietta Street.  Not until 1954 were larger premises found for Nelson’s at 36 Park Street, in Mayfair.

Publishing in flames on Paternoster Row

Listen to the first episode of this series on Radio 3, 5th May 2025 (14 mins). Series: Books for Brighter Blackouts:- ‘As the BBC marks the 80th anniversary of VE Day, Professor Emma Smith uncovers five unexpected stories about how World War Two changed books, publishing and reading forever.’ The essay is about that very night of destruction. I was thrilled to find that Professor Smith interviews Professor Andrew Pettegree, an eminent authority in the University of St Andrews; and Liam Sims from the University of Cambridge; amongst other experts.

Mystifying Timewarp Challenge

It’s not as though I’m unaccustomed to what I’ve been doing in odd moments for the past few days.  Over the years, I’ve opened dozens, indeed hundreds of old song books and other music publications, trying to read their prefaces, annotations and harmonic arrangements as though I were a contemporary musician rather than a 21st century musicologist.  Looking at music educational materials is likewise not new to me.

Enter Dr Walford Davies and his The Pursuit of Music

He was the first music professor at the University of Aberystwyth, but he was also hugely popular in the 1920s-30s through his broadcasting work – fully exploiting the new technology of wireless and gramophone for educational purposes, and to share his love of music with the ordinary layman wishing to know more about all they could now listen to. This book was written after he’d mostly, but not entirely retired.

It wasn’t exactly what I expected! If I thought he would write about what made the Pastoral Symphony pastoral, or Die Moldau describe a river’s journey, I rapidly had to change my expectations. 

His audience was apparently not just the average layperson, but also young people in their late teens, not long out of school. If the reader didn’t play the piano, they were urged to get a friend to play the examples for them.  (Considering the book is over 400 pages, you can imagine how long they’d be – erm – captive!)

Dedication

And this was aesthetics, 90 years ago. I struggled to get into the mindset of a layperson wanting to know what music (classical, in the main) was ‘about’, without knowing what a chord was, or realising that music occupies time more than space. Would I have benefited from that knowledge? Would being told in general terms what the harmonic series was, have helped me appreciate the movements of a string quartet? Or Holst’s The Planets?

It wasn’t about musical styles over the years. I didn’t read it cover to cover, but neither did it appear to explain musical form and structure as I would have expected.

Davies’ biographer, H. C. Colles, did comment that it was a mystifying book, and suffered from the fact that the authorโ€™s strengths were in friendly and persuasive spoken, not written communication.

I’ve only heard snatches of his spoken commentary, so I can’t really say.ย  Apart from which, Colles made an observation about Davies’ written style. Colles was a contemporary authority who knew Davies personally – and he may have been picking his own words carefully, so as not to cause offence. My own disquiet is more a matter of content:ย  was it what his avowed audience needed, to start ‘understanding music’?

I think I have been mystified enough.

I wonder what the Nelson editors made of this book by one of the great names of their age? They published it, and I think regarded him as a catch, but what did they actually think?!

And did the layperson, assuming they got through the 400+ pages, lay it down with a contented sigh, feeling that now they understood music?