Clergyman’s Wife writes Humorous Musical Sketch? (Votes for Women!)

Music cover. Fashionable lady, and man holding a baby

I don’t go on shopping sprees. But let me loose on eBay, and who knows what I’ll buy? I came across a Bayley & Ferguson publication from ca.1894-6. It was published both in Glasgow and in London, and was performed in Bishopbriggs on the outskirts of Glasgow in January 1897. The London address confirms the earliest date. (John A. Parkinson’s Victorian Music Publishers: an Annotated List is invaluable here.*) The cover illustration caught my eye, and I must confess I was intrigued to find it was composed by a woman: Constance M. Yorke. In 1897-8, she also published Twilight Shadows with a London publisher, Larway, who again dealt with light musical fare. I haven’t attempted to get my hands on that one.

Constance M. Yorke: is this Constance Maria Yorke Smith / Scholefield?

I traced a Constance Maria Yorke Smith (1855-1936), who was a vicar’s daughter, originally from Loddon in Norfolk, but whose early adult years were spent in Penally, Pembrokeshire. Her late father was the Revd. J. J. Smith, latterly a tutor at the University of Cambridge. Constance in turn married a clergyman herself – James Henry Scholefield – in a very ‘society’ wedding in Cornwall in 1891. If I’m right, then this ‘humorous musical sketch‘ under her forenames but not her surname, could have been written when she was already married. (Her mother had given the happy couple a grand piano as a wedding gift – Constance would have been making good use of it!)

Rose Smith’s Mother, Mary Ann

This paragraph is newly added (March 2026). In the RMA Research Chronicle, you’ll find my recent article about five Scotswomen involved in and around music publishing in the late Victorian era and early twentieth century. The author of the musical sketch, M. A. Smith, was the mother of composer and self-publisher, Rose Smith. And whilst I can’t be 100% sure of the identity of Constance M. Yorke, I am 101% sure that M. A. Smith was Rose’s mother, and the author of Mr and Mrs Dobbs at Home. I’m still working on this, notwithstanding the fact that my article is now published, because I feel there’s more to be said about M. A. Smith. I’m fascinated by her, her views, and her writing. Bayley & Ferguson didn’t publish the sketch using the lilac-and-green colour scheme commonly associated with women’s suffrage, but the sketch is a somewhat tongue-in-cheek sideways glance at the suffrage movement. Read on, to see what I mean. The rather obnoxious heroine hardly sells the idea of women’s suffrage and equality to the average man – or woman – in the street.

Mr & Mrs Dobbs at Home: humorous Musical Sketch / (words by M. A. Smith; composed by Constance M. Yorke (London, Glasgow: Bayley & Ferguson, n.d.). Franz PazdĂ­rek listed the piece in his Universal Handbook (1904-10), but erroneously attributed it to Caroline M. Yorke, and Twilight Shadows to M. Constance Yorke – rather confusing, Herr PazdĂ­rek!

So, what of ‘Mr and Mrs Dobbs at Home’? Selina is a spoiled young madam. Mr Dobbs is hen-pecked to an insane degree, submissive beyond measure and seemingly incapable of standing up for himself. Selina says he has driven the maids and the nurse away, so it’s only right that he should do all their work. ‘Enter Mr Dobbs in shirt sleeves and kitchen apron, with broom in one hand, duster in the other, as if he had been sweeping.’ (Does he go out to work? No mention of it. And why have they all gone away? The poor man seems to have no spine, let alone any serious vices!) The baby cries. Who goes and fetches her from the nursery? Mr Dobbs. He says the child is teething. Selina instead accuses him of jabbing her with a nappy pin.

Ah, well. Having told him off for having a quick, sneaky puff of his pipe whilst she was getting herself ready, the pair and their baby set off for a day out to meet one of Selina’s friends. At this point, Mr Dobbs mentions that a ‘lady speaker’ has tried for the third time to see Selina, but he forgot to mention this before. (I missed this the first time I flicked through, but sat up straight when I realised that Selina was being courted by the Suffragettes, Suffragists, or similar.) Privately, he seems to think anyone involved in ‘Women’s Rights’ should be kept well away from his wife – it seems a little late in the day for that, considering Selina already has the upper hand! Of course, Selina sees things differently, and the rest of the sketch is basically a dispute as to whether women can, or cannot, ‘rule as well as the men’, with Mr Dobbs muttering that,

Shirts, vests, and ties and knickers, too, are all now female gear; our coats and hats will follow suit, and presently we’ll see the pater in the mater’s skirt, a-toddling out to tea.

Mr Dobbs’ complaint

It’s not a work of high artistic content! Not that it isn’t harmonically sound or averagely tuneful, but it was probably only ever intended for domestic or amateur entertainment. However, I do smile at the thought that whilst Revd. Scholefield was writing his sermons, Constance was sitting at the piano composing a musical sketch about role reversal – and then publishing it.   (Or had a lyricist originally written it more as a conservative warning than eager anticipation of a brave new world?!)

You never know what you might find when, on a whim, you order something off eBay.

* John A. Parkinson, Victorian Music Publishers: an Annotated List (Warren, Michigan: Harmonie Park Press, 1990) – it is worth noting that Parkinson worked in the Music Room of the British Museum.

Not Like Noah: a Choral Piece about Climate Change

I make no claims to be a professional composer! I have nonetheless written a number of short, mainly choral/vocal pieces, along with instrumental/choral arrangements. I’ve sold a few copies through the ArrangeMe website, and most of my pieces are on SoundCloud.

My latest choral piece, Not like Noah, was trialled at an Edinburgh Composers’ Workshop at the Charteris Centre on 25 February, 2024. Like my earlier Extinction Calypso, it’s on the subject of climate change, and again, the lyrics are my own. This is a recording kindly made by organisers Chris Hutchings and Lindsey Cotter.

Women’s History Month 2024 – Musicians

Victorian or Edwardian woman descending stone staircase

I’ve written quite a bit about women in musical history, so I’m adding something to the top of this post every couple of days during Women’s History Month – mostly flashbacks to women musicians I’ve researched, but some other discoveries too. (I’ve been shifting things around to a more chronological order, but I’ve always added the new bit first!) You’ll find more musicians than composers in this posting, just because of my own recent research.

Sometimes I look at the history of women musicians from the point of view of good library provision for our readers, whilst at other times my own research interests are foremost.  It just depends on the day of the week, because I currently occupy two roles in the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. For 3.5 days a week, I’m a librarian. For 1.5, a postdoctoral researcher.

15. The Ketelbey Fellowship

It’s a whole year since I learned that I had been awarded the first Ketelbey postdoctoral research fellowship at the University of St Andrews.  Scholar Doris Ketelbey was a significant figure in the history of the department.  I felt highly honoured to have been the first Ketelbey Fellow from September to December 2023.

14. Representation of Women Composers in the Library

I couldn’t resist adding the open access article I published about my EDI activity in our own Whittaker Library:-

‘Representation of Women Composers in the Whittaker Library’Journal of Perspectives in Applied Academic Practice. Vol. 11 No. 1 (2023): Special Issue on Breaking the Gender Bias in Academia and Academic Practice, 21-26. (Paper given at the International Women’s Day Conference hosted by the University of the Highlands and Islands, 2022.) DOI: https://doi.org/10.56433/jpaap.v11i1.533

Logo of the JPAAP https://jpaap.ac.uk/JPAAP

13. New Books for the Library

Susan Tomes – Women and the piano

It’s a privilege to shape a library collection, so I’m pleased to have just ordered and catalogued several relevant books this month.

  • Susan Tomes, Women and the Piano: a History in 50 Lives (Yale University Press, 2024) Read more about it on the publisher’s website, here. In actual fact, it’s the fourth title by this author that we now have in stock. So if readers like this, they might like the earlier three, too!
  • Margaret C. Watson, Women in Academia : Achieving our Potential. (Market Harborough : Troubadour, 2024). Not a book about women in history, but very much for women in the present day!
  • Gillian Dooley, She played and sang: Jane Austen and Music (Manchester University Press, 2024). Back to history again.
  • Women and Music in Ireland / ed. Jennifer O’Connor-Madsen; Laura Watson & Ita Beausang (Boydell Press, 2022)

Moreover, there’s a new Routledge book coming out this summer – I have ordered it for the Whittaker Library. Of course, I may have retired from the Library by the time it arrives. This just means I won’t need to catalogue it! I’ll still be a part-time researcher, so I’ll be able to read it:-

12. Jessy McCabe’s Petition

It’s some years now, since a single-minded schoolgirl decided action was necessary. In 2015,  Jessy McCabe noticed that Edexel had no women composers in the A-Level Music syllabus, and successfully petitioned to rectify this, via Change.org.  I found out about her impressive initiative when I was beginning to start serious work on building up our library collection to include more music – contemporary and  historical – by women and people of colour. 

Jessy is now a Special Needs teacher.  I’m sure she’ll go far.

11. Forgotten Women Composers

Part of academia entails sharing research outcomes beyond the ‘ivory walls’.  It’s called public engagement, and that’s the opportunity I seized when my old friend The People’s Friend magazine commissioned me to write a feature back in 2020.

  • The sound of forgotten music: Karen McAulay uncovers some of the great female composers who have been lost from history’, in The People’s Friend, Special Edition, 11 Sep 2020, 2 p. (Dundee : D C Thomson).  I blogged about it at the time (here).

10. Late Victorian Women Musicians

Torn pages of old music, some handwritten and some printed

Since my more recent research has focused on the late Victorian era and the first part of the twentieth century, you’ll not be surprised to find that I found some interesting Scottish women musicians of that era! They are forgotten today – but I’ve done my bit to raise their profiles!

9. In Praise of Music Cataloguers! Introducing Miss Elizabeth Lambert

Before I started the Claimed From Stationers’ Hall music copyright network, I had spent some months researching the wonderful late 18th and early 19th century music copyright collection at the University of St Andrews. A key resource was the handwritten catalogue in two notebooks, largely compiled by Miss Elizabeth Lambert (later to become Mrs Williams, when she married and moved to London.)

I just love the fact that this earnest young woman (I’m going out on a limb here, but I’m pretty sure she must have been earnest!) created a useful resource which would help everyone get maximum use out of the music repertoire that other libraries were less than impressed by. So we had Elizabeth cataloguing the collection, and numerous men and women, friends of the professors, making use of it. I blogged about her, and eventually wrote an article for the Edinburgh Bibliographical Society, mentioning her again.

8. Was there a Harp at St Leonard’s School?

Image by Sue Rickhuss from Pixabay

Some time ago, I blogged about an instruction manual for harp, which the Bertrams borrowed from St Andrews University Library:-

The library’s copyright collection of music was a boon for middling class women like headmistress Mrs Bertram, her teacher daughters and their pupils.  It does lead one to wonder if they had a harp at the school.  I checked their borrowing records for more evidence. They certainly borrowed several volumes which included harp music.

7. Students but not at University? Educating Young Women

It’s time to turn to piano teacher Mr T. Latour. I’d like to refer you to my June 2018 blog post about women in St Andrews using pedagogical musical material in the early 19th century. Possibly the self-same young ladies attending, or having attended Mrs Bertram’s school?! The illustration features a young woman – probably just approaching or about marriagable age – at an upright piano. The abundant floral arrangement atop the piano (quite apart from sending shivers down the housekeeper’s spine every time the young pianist played too enthusiastically) suggests a well-to-do household. Following Latour’s instructions, the pianist has elegantly flat hands …..

Title page of T. Latour's instruction manual, Ladies' Thorough Bass.
T. Latour – Ladies’ Thorough Bass
Instructions 'on the position at the piano-forte'
Latour advises on the seating position, and how to hold ones hands elegantly

6. Not my work – but very timely for WHM 2024]

I’m not posting anything relating to my work today, but I saw mention of a great new article by Dominic Bridge the other day, so I thought I’d share details here. It’s a fascinating read. The Journal for Eighteenth-Century Studies is part of the Wiley Online Library:-

5. Jointly authored with Brianna Robertson-Kirkland: ‘My love to war is going’: Women and Song in the Napoleonic Era

We published this article in the Trafalgar Chronicle, New Series 3 (2018), 202-212. My own observations were based on music I had found in the Legal Deposit Music at the University of St Andrews, whilst Brianna had already founded EAERN (Eighteenth-Century Arts Education Research Network) jointly with Dr Elizabeth Ford, funded by the Royal Society of Edinburgh.

4. Forgotten Female Composers

Back in 2018 when I was awarded the AHRC networking grant for the Claimed from Stationers Hall network, I drew up a list of women composers from the Georgian era. There were more than one might have expected – perhaps they only composed a handful of pieces, in many cases, but nonetheless – they composed. You can find the list on a separate page on this blog, here. And you can read more about it in the blogpost I wrote in July 2018,

3. Mrs Bertram

This lady ran a girls’ school at St Leonard’s in St Andrews. This was NOT the famous and long-established private school that has long stood there, but an earlier enterprise. And Mrs Bertram and her daughters subsequently moved to Edinburgh, to the disappointment of parents of daughters in St Andrews!

The photo portrays a Mrs Bertram of Edinburgh. Chronologically,  she could well be ‘our’ Mrs Bertram, and a scholarly bent is suggested by the pile of books at her hand.

2. The Accomplished Ladies of Torloisk

I almost forgot about the musical Maclean-Clephane ladies of Torloisk, which is a stately home on the island of Mull. But how could I forget about them, considering I published a lengthy article about them some years ago?! Luckily, a book of letters by Sir Walter Scott crossed my library desk, and even though it didn’t contain those particular letters, this did remind me of his musical friends in Torloisk!

1. Esteemed Academic introduces Composer Harriet Wainewright

Today, I’d like to introduce a woman composer who predates most of the individuals I’ve encountered. Professor James Porter applies his considerable intellect to produce this in-depth article:-

  • ‘An English Composer and Her Opera: Harriet Wainewright’s ComĂ la (1792)’, Journal of Musicological Research Feb, 2021. Published online: 16 Feb 2021.

Fitness to Work

And so, today is the last day when I’m officially unfit to work. I go back to the library on Monday, but not without some anxiety.

Mind the Gap!

There is a discrepancy. After my eye surgery, I’m now ‘fit’ to return to work, but all clinical advice says that full recovery takes a number of months, if not a year. The hospital doctor tells me I can’t even get new glasses (which I need) until after the summer, by which time the fixed eye should have settled enough to merit a new prescription. (I’ll also have retired from librarianship and will be simply a part-time researcher.) At present, vision through that eye is still blurred, although the two eyes together can manage okay. I’ve attempted to contrast what my two eyes see at the moment, by doctoring an old stereoscope image, seen above. The black bubble diminishes day by day – it might disappear by the end of next week.

Pixabay bubble, more colourful than mine!

I spent some time googling ‘return to work after macular hole surgery’, because I’m sure I’ll be asked if I need anything to support my return to work – but for myself, the only advice I’ve had is, ‘yes, you can return to work’. If you live in Blackburn, UK, you’re told not to work for three months! Three whole months? This is the only health authority suggesting such a long time off work. Otherwise, the advice sheets I’ve seen simply advise not to fly with a black gas bubble (not a problem); not to drive, ditto; not to lift anything heavy, and to take a rest if your good eye starts to ache. That’s it. It seems reasonable.

Emails? Sure, but the print on CD covers is TINY!

Just like anyone else returning to work, there will be a lot of emails to catch up on. I’m sure there will also be a backlog of cataloguing. It has to be done, small print or not. I do have a magnifying glass.

If you’re AT work, colleagues are entitled to assume you can do the work, all of the work, and no pick-and-choosing. Fit to work means, well, fit to work. The patrons you interact with similarly don’t know you’re still a little fragile, and will expect you to function normally. And if a patron is waiting for a book, they should have it catalogued – my fitness has absolutely nothing to do with it – that’s irrelevant. Similarly, a query should be dealt with timeously. I set up ‘out of office’ email messages before my operation, but one query directly to me, had been by telephone, and I wasn’t able to make contact with the enquirer before I took sick leave, despite a dozen attempts to return the call. I fear they’ll be annoyed by my silence. I’ll be as apologetic as I can!

And how do I confess if I can’t lift something, or indeed see something clearly? If I’m ‘fit to work’ as normal, I should be able to. As for taking a rest? Why should I be afforded that privilege? That would seem unfair on everyone else.

On the positive side, of course, it means I can get back to my research on Wednesdays and Thursday mornings. Heaven! And hopefully I’ll soon find out if any more needs to be done to my book draft before it can go forward into the copy-editing process.

Wish me luck.

Time to Reflect

My research has been on hold whilst I recover from eye surgery. Firstly, a UK ‘fit note’ says you’re unfit to work (and research is work); and secondly, my good eye soon tells me if I’ve placed too many demands on it. It’s weird to look at a computer screen when one eye  is compensating for the other one (that doesn’t fully focus and has an obstruction in the form of a black gas bubble). 

So, no research reading, though I have bought a couple of books for later.  But that doesn’t stop me thinking. I can’t help doing that.

The other evening, I started a very short list of potential research directions. I can’t proceed with any of them until (a) I am back at work, (b) I can get to various libraries and archives, and (c) I get the go-ahead to drive.

Each potential direction requires me to venture along the path to see what’s round the corner.  Not just, whether there’s enough to research, but whether there might be an interested audience for it. For example, there are two Scottish women musicians I’d like to know more about  – a Victorian and an Edwardian.  One never was a big name, except in her locality.  The other did enjoy fame, but she is virtually forgotten today.

Or, two Scottish music publishers with religious inclinations.  Does anyone care today, apart from me? I’m interested in what exactly they published; and whether they ever interacted in any way.  But is anyone else interested? (I had these hesitations about my mediaeval music research, decades ago. It was possibly one of the reasons it foundered.)

In any of these topics, I have to place the subjects into their social and cultural context, if I am to demonstrate relevance or significance in the grander scheme of things.  My motivation is to examine what these individuals and firms’ music and activities tell us about the era in which they lived and worked.

But then there’s the question of impact. I don’t have to so much as open my laptop, let alone a book, to start worrying that I haven’t yet come up with a mind-blowing angle that will knock the world’s socks off!   Moreover, there is no conceivable way I can make any of my research relate to climate change; saving the earth’s resources; social good or benefit to health.  

And so I sit, blurrily gazing into the middle distance, reflecting! I have the go-ahead to return to work on Monday. Blurrily!

Image by nateen08650 from Pixabay

Pat Thomson Blogs about Research Significance

This is thought-provoking:-

Research key words – Significance

I find myself looking at the various strands of my research that I’m considering pursuing, and asking myself sternly, ‘Does this have significance? Is anyone going to benefit from my finding out more about this, as opposed to that, or maybe the other … ?’ Why do I want to pursue these various aspects? What might the outcomes tell us?

Endurance, by Alfred Lansing – the Bitingly Harsh Reality of the Antarctic

After my last Audible adventure – well, its dreamlike quality felt more like sleepwalking than an adventure – I needed something a bit more gritty for my next audio book. There can be nothing more ‘real’, or in the moment, than the story of the remarkable Ernest Shackleton’s abortive trip to the South Pole aboard The Endurance in 1915.

Alfred Lansing, Endurance. Abridged audio book (Blackstone Audio, Inc., 2000)

I don’t often read books in the ‘Adventures, Explorers & Survival’ or ‘Expeditions & Discoveries’ categories.  However, I found this book gripping, and even terrifying, as challenge after seemingly impossible challenge had to be surmounted.  To rescue the entire crew from two icy and inaccessible islands was more than remarkable.

For myself, I’d like to know what happened to them all after they got home! Do I need to look for another book …?

Edinburgh Composers’ Workshop Tomorrow Sunday 25 February 2024

2-5 pm.

Charteris Centre, Pleasance, Edinburgh, EH8 9, United Kingdom

https://www.facebook.com/share/o7SoBUuj6WnjRYxL/

I won’t be there, but my choral piece, Not Like Noah, is one of the songs being tried out at this workshop.

I’m proud that, although I’m primarily a musicologist and librarian, my composition is getting a chance to be performed. Yes, it’s another piece about climate change. I hope the singers enjoy it!

[Later] And I have heard a recording. Gratifyingly successful, I must say.  When there’s a weblink, I’ll share it here. Sounds as though the sopranos enjoyed doing their ‘howling gale’ glissandi, too!

Everything in Moderation

‘You can read, use your laptop and phone’, says the post-op leaflet.  What it SHOULD say, in my opinion, is ‘You can read, use your laptop and phone for short spells, but don’t overdo it.’ 

I did a musicological blog post last night, web-links and all.  By the end of it, my good eye was protesting, and I had a headache for much of today. And I’m shattered!

So … back to the original plan! I will finish my next Audible book, then review it.  Bear with me, dear reader!

‘Repugnant to Modern Feelings of Propriety’? The Most Beautiful Scottish Song

I’ve started listening to another Audible book, but it’ll take a while for me to finish it. To take a break from listening, I sidled over to the piano and played a one-eyed rendition of my favourite song.

Lady Anne Bothwell’s Lament (Baloo, my Boy)

My Song Gems (Scots), edited by James Wood and Learmont Drysdale (London: Vincent Music Co., 1908), is a nice big score that sits comfortably on the piano stand. This song is arranged by Finlay Dun, a Victorian arranger. As I squinted at the words, they didn’t look like what I remembered hearing sung from Cedric Thorpe Davie and George McVicar’s The Oxford Scottish Song Book (1969). What was going on? I suspected Davie and McVicar had taken their words from George Farquhar Graham and James Wood’s mid-Victorian Songs of Scotland. ‘You’ll see’, I told my bemused son. ‘The words will have been too smutty for Victorian ears, so Graham and Wood changed them.’

Davie used their words – which were perfectly acceptable for a collection intended both for classroom and adult use – but his musical setting is updated.

A Deserted Mother and Child

Graham and Wood’s collection revealed in the footnotes that it was an old ballad collected by Bishop Percy. However, Graham said that …

The Old Ballad, though poetically meritorious, is so coarse in most of its stanzas as to be repugnant to modern feelings of propriety. We have, therefore, adopted only the first stanza of it, the additional stanzas here given having been written by a friend of the Publisher.

Songs of Scotland (Edinburgh: Wood & Co., 1850), Vol.2, pp.30-31

Percy’s original version is in the National Library of Scotland’s Digital Gallery (Reliques of Ancient Poetry, 1767). Today, the lyrics are inoffensive!

And here’s the Cedric Thorpe Davie setting using Graham and Wood’s sanitized words:-

Kathleen McKellar Ferguson sings the Oxford Scottish Song Book version, divinely, here on YouTube

The Song Gems (Scots) version is in modern English and the text has been partially rewritten again –  it falls halfway between the original and the sanitized words! And the musical arrangement? Straight from Graham and Wood’s collection.

Percy, verse 3: Smile not as thy father did, to cozen maids, nay God forbid / Bot yett I feire, thou wilt gae neire Thy fatheris hart, and face to beire.

Wood and Drysdale, verse 2: Smile not as thy father did, to cozen maids, may God forbid / For in thine eye his look I see, The tempting look that ruin’d me …

Olde English or modern, take your pick!

As for Graham and Wood, or Thorpe and McVicar? Not a ruinous smile to be be seen! The lady may have been deserted, but no hint that she had first been seduced!