Dr Karen McAulay explores the history of Scottish music collecting, publishing and national identity from the 18th to 20th centuries. Research Fellow at Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, author of two Routledge monographs.
I’ve had a series of phone-calls from the in-house talent team at IQVIA today. This is apparently because I am looking for clinical manager roles. I can see one tiny problem. No, more than one!
AM I?
I’m semi-retired, and geographically tied to where I am. I can’t relocate. And whether or not I would take on more work is hardly the question, because I haven’t activated LinkedIn’s looking-for-work function. Quite apart from the elephant in the room – that job title.
They were Persistent!
I ignored the first call. Told the second and third that I hadn’t asked them to contact me. Finally, I asked the fourth caller – Amelia – why she thought I was suited for a role as clinical manager, and she said it was because of my LinkedIn profile.
Have I ever intimated that I have medical qualifications? I have not. I told Amelia very firmly to remove me from their database because I am utterly unqualified for a clinical manager role. (I’m not even entirely sure what a clinical manager does!)
However, if I get any more calls, I can’t promise that I won’t enjoy myself stringing them along and wasting a bit of their time. I’ll share my age and qualifications. I’ll tell them about my specialisms, and bring them up to date with my latest research. It’ll be most amusing – well, to me, at any rate.
After all, my insights into the history of Scottish music publishing might be exactly what is needed to cure someone’s duodenal ulcer …
WordPress has a habit of reminding me what I posted ‘on this day’ in previous years. Today’s reminder has been quite interesting!
2019
… seems a long time ago! I was in Killin, speaking at the Clan Gregor Weekend. Sir John Macgregor Murray was an interesting historical figure whom I’d encountered in passing during my doctoral research. A decade later, I’d been invited to give a research paper about him at the Sorbonne, and it turned out that Clan Gregor was also interested in my research, so I gave an after-dinner talk there, too.
The paper eventually became a peer-reviewed article in vol.13 no.1 (2026), pp.50-63 of the Folk Music Journal, ‘Sir John Macgregor Murray: Preserver of Highland Culture, Music and Song’.
2022
I gave a lightening paper at a HoPIN webinar. HoPIN is the History of the Printed Image Network, so my paper was probably rather unfamiliar territory for researchers more familiar with images than old sheet music.
2023
A Social History of Amateur Music-Making and Scottish National Identity: Scotland’s Printed Music, 1880-1951
I was revising my second monograph prior to submitting it to the publisher. And looking forward to taking up my Ketelbey Fellowship in the History Department at the University of St Andrews. (By the end of the fellowship, I’d be working on revisions to the book!)
2024
I had not long retired from librarianship, but now I identified as semi-retired. So for the research fellow part of me, it was full-steam-ahead on indexing the second monograph, and my ‘vacation’ was somewhat busy. I was also contemplating an emergency visit down to Norfolk – I can’t remember if I actually went that time, because there were several such crises, some resolving sooner than others.
2025
Again, my vacation was far from relaxing. I was back from a trip to Norfolk, and in Glasgow we were having a new bathroom fitted. Meanwhile, we knew that a family bereavement was very imminent. I got the sad news on the final day of the bathroom re-fit, with a houseful of plumbers and electricians around. The news and our domestic circumstances will always be combined in my memory!
2026
Down-time
It’s more like a vacation this year, I guess. It’s warm and sunny. The garden’s looking moderately tidy, and I’m not rushing to meet a deadline. If I feel unsettled and vaguely guilty for my laziness … well, maybe I’m just out of practice!
Anyway, I know I’ll be busy enough when my holidays come to an end.
Yesterday being Sunday – and Scotland isn’t out of the World Cup yet – I dug deep to find some more thematically appropriate music to play on the organ. I’m pleased to report that it IS possible to play, ‘Yes, Sir, I can Boogie’ in a sedate, dignified manner. Challenging, but possible. Likewise ‘Scotland The Brave’. After those, a calmer ‘The Rowan Tree’ and an organ setting of ‘Amazing Grace’ completed the World Cup set.
But AFTER the service … although I nominally stuck with a Scottish titled march, absolutely no-one would have known or recognised it. It was an indulgence of my research interests, I’m afraid! I played a piece of music by Edward E Harper. So … it was
composed by an Englishman,
who briefly lived in Scotland.
His tune was called a Scots March (it doesn’t sound Scottish) –
and it was in a collection published by Bayley and Ferguson, a Scottish publisher.
The composer himself had emigrated to Canada by this stage. I don’t know when he composed it.
It gets more complicated.
The copy I own was sold in AUSTRALIA,
and taken to California by a talented scientist at the start of his career.
I repatriated it through eBay, so today the not-exactly ‘Scots March’ was played by an Englishwoman in Scotland, not that far from where the English composer was once organist …
I have a problem now. Just supposing Scotland beats Brazil? I can find any number of traditional tunes, but what would I play as an outgoing voluntary?!
I was surprised, last night, to realise that I hadn’t blogged about William Moodie on this blog. The explanation turns out to be very simple: I blogged about him on Whittaker Live, the library blog that I ran for a couple of decades before I retired from the Whittaker Library at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. Click here to read all about him!
Why He Matters
He was a music teacher at Glasgow Normal School – the forerunner of Jordanhill Teacher Training College.
He did the first service of song for Wee Davie, a moral tale by a Glasgow minister, Revd. Norman McLeod – and this ‘service of song’ was Bayley & Ferguson’s first known music publication.
Services of song were often accompanied by magic lantern show. You could argue that this was early ‘audiovisual’ media – projected pictures to watch whilst a story was read and hymns or songs were sung.
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 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!
I made this cloth book after I’d finished the ‘Claimed from Stationers Hall’ research project. Something was missing, though: it lacked explanatory captions. This week, I revised it and corrected my omission!
I forgot to add .. the decorating delays are apparently our fault for having so much stuff. It’s my books and music in the dining room that the painter’s alluding to. (He has no idea about Himself’s collection, many of which were originally secretly delivered to his workplace so that I wouldn’t see them, and are now scattered in various parts of the house.)
Last November, one of the electricians also innocently asked why I had so many books. I answered lamely, ‘Well, so I could write these two.’ Which didn’t seem terribly convincing to me, but seemed to satisfy him!
Scholar
Former librarian
Organist
Writes books about music books …
I don’t feel guilty about the books, but I really must reduce the collection before my family have to clear the house once I’m gone! Some are going on eBay, others to the charity shop.
I’m contemplating writing another book. It’ll be based on my recent researches as an IASH Fellow, obviously. But I’ve had a brainwave of an idea for the final chapter – which involves a bit more research – so the past few days have been dedicated to exploring possibilities. As I now know, from the historical Thomas Nelson point of view as much as my own present existence as a scholar, publishers like publishing things in series. It helps them sell, if readers can see how a book fits into a larger grouping of books. I’ve been thinking about where my book might fit in.
I’ve also had a wee jaunt to Dundee to talk to a scholar of my acquaintance; and today, I sat down to write an email. Who’d have thought it would take most of an afternoon to write an email?! But when it’s important, it’s worth taking some effort in the crafting of it.
‘Faint heart never won fair lady’
Finally, I thought it was just right. I mused that maybe I should leave it and re-read it tomorrow. But no, I must be resolute. So, I did not prevaricate. More of this thrilling story in due course …
I haven’t been posting much this summer, for personal reasons. So – after more than a week of total blog silence, imagine my surprise to find I have had hundreds and hundreds more visitors since yesterday. What’s happened?!
Even if it’s some kind of blip, it gives me the opportunity to introduce myself. I’m a postdoctoral research fellow at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland and also, for a few weeks more, at IASH at the University of Edinburgh. I research all sorts of cool stuff (well, it’s cool to me) about Scottish music publishers, with a distinct interest in national song collections, and in early 20th century music education in Scotland.
My second book was published at the end of 2024:-
A Social History of Music-Making and Scottish National Identity: Scotland’s Printed Music, 1880-1951.
That might look like a strange date-range, but my previous book covered Scottish song-collecting up to the 1880s, so this kind of continues in a slightly different way from that point onwards. The 1951 cut-off date is because that was the year of the Festival of Britain. And it was also a good place to stop because I touched upon magic lanterns, gramophones and the wireless, but I really didn’t feel I was the right person to write about early television in Scotland! By stopping in 1951, I conveniently sidestepped early television. There are plenty of people more knowledgeable than me on that front.
My current Edinburgh research entails examining archival records of the Thomas Nelson publishing house, an old Edinburgh firm. The British side of this company has ceased trading – it’s an American firm now – but I’ve found plenty to interest me in the documents up the early 1950s. Education became their focus during the era I’m researching. Whilst my book mostly covers publishers specialising in music, Thomas Nelson really only published music that would be used in schools – though they hoped a few titles would also attract the general public. (The problem being that if you mention ‘school’ or ‘classroom’ in a title, it will turn off the ordinary member of public looking at books in a bookshop!)
Will there be a third book? Possibly! I’m still pondering. September is earmarked for concentrated thought about that!
If this sounds interesting, please do come back and visit this site again.
Relax, dear reader – this is not an incursion into my working research existence. I haven’t broken my resolution to take a well-earned holiday. Well, not exactly!
Going through the Thomas Nelson correspondence a few weeks ago, I came across a post-war letter celebrating the fact that sugar rationing was finally over, in which one editor suggested to another that now would be a good time to reissue Helen Jerome’s sweet-making book.
Now for a bit of history! It had first been published in 1924. In 1931, the author proposed another book, this time about baking cakes. The publishers declined it, since they felt the sweet-making one hadn’t sold very well.
Notwithstanding these observations, they revised the sweet-making book in 1936, and reprinted it in June 1939 (still pre-war). This publisher very much had their finger on the pulse, and books for adults quite often tapped into contemporary issues. So, right now they guessed – probably accurately – that people would enjoy making confectionery again after the years of privation. I obtained a revised edition with a foreword dated Spring 1954:-
FOREWORD TO THE REVISED EDITION. The effect of sweet and sugar rationing appears only to have increased the amount of sweets eaten in Great Britain, establishing us as one of the largest sweet-eating countries in the world. There is now much added interest in the actual making of sweets at home – whether as a skilled hobby … a family venture for special occasions, or as an experiment embarked upon by teenagers …
I’ll be honest – I bought this book intending to make some confectionery which I could photograph and write about. Now I’m on holiday, I imagined myself lovingly creating something delicious to intrigue and delight the family. However, I’ve looked through at the required equipment, the fancy syrups, and high boiling temperatures, and I have taken fright. It’s not going to happen! The first three chapters are terrifying enough: Utensils Required for Sweet-making; Materials Required for Sweet-making and Hints on their Preparation; and Sugar Boiling, Sugar Syrups, Spun Sugar, and Crystallisation.
I have a stove. And a sugar thermometer (unused). I don’t have a slab, be it marble, slate or heavy wood (‘covered with a sheet of enamelled iron’) or a ‘heavy white enamelled tray known as a “butcher’s tray”‘. Nor do I have a nylon or hair sieve, candy bars (not the edible variety – these are ‘a set of four steel bars cut from 1/2 in. cube steel, and 12-18 in. long, which help to obtain and professional finish’ and ‘can be obtained from a builder’s merchant’.) I’m mystified by sweet rings or cream rings, a caramel marker, a sugar scraper, a candy hook or a starch tray … need I continue? There are three more pages of equipment requirements.
As you can see, getting set up could be quite expensive! Not only are some of the above items going to be hard to source, but I had a bit of a problem establishing what, precisely, a gill measurement is. My first Google search did not go well …
The AI answer wasn’t quite what I expected!
If at first you don’t succeed – try, try, try again:-
Ah, that’s more like it!
Anyway, let’s look at the ingredients:- Loaf sugar, granulated sugar, demerara sugar, castor sugar, icing sugar, Raw West Indian or ‘soft’ sugar. Treacle, honey, glucose, cream of tartar, butter … so far, so good. But don’t get complacent. After various nuts and dried fruit, we find we need plain cooking chocolate (yes) and covering chocolate (what?), cocoa butter, various flavourings, gum arabic, gelatine, confectioners’ starch. Maple sugar, maple syrup, molasses, marshmallow cream … and then we get on to various techniques that you use to transform these ingredients into other more complex substances.
After all this, there are ten chapters devoted to different kinds of sweets, followed by advice about packaging them.
Fondants
Marzipan (you make this from scratch – don’t imagine you can buy a packet from Sainsbury’s!)
Toffees
Caramels
Candies and Fudges
Nougats
Chocolates
Jelly Sweets and ‘Delights’
Unboiled Bon-Bons
Miscellaneous Recipes
Now I’m feeling hungry, and my mouth is watering, but I am not equipped to start my confectionery journey. Not only that, but my ceramic hob is my pride and joy (or a ridiculous obsession, to quote my nearest and dearest), and I live in fear of pots boiling over at the best of times. Can I risk spilling boiling syrup on it? I cannot.
I take my hat off to the author, with her First-Class Diplomas, London and Paris (Cordon Bleu), who was a former staff Teacher of Cookery at the Polytechnic, Regent Street, London W1. I envy the skilled hobbyists capable of mastering ‘difficult processes’ (see? she admits they’re hard!). And I’m in awe of ‘teenagers who want to make their own “tuck”‘. I can well imagine their collective excitement at being able to buy all these sweet ingredients to create the treats they had missed out on for so long, and I hope many tasty confections were made by the purchasers of this book.
Next time I’m passing a shop, I’ll get some Fry’s Turkish Delight, and be grateful that I can!
Karen McAulay, Musicologist 