Track 2: Lord Franklin (4:30)

Lyrics:

‘twas homeward bound one night on the deep
swinging in my hammock I fell asleep
I dreamed a dream and thought it true
of Lord Franklin and his gallant crew

with a hundred seamen they sailed away
across the ocean in the month of may
to find a passage around the pole
where we poor sailors do sometimes go

through cruel hardships they vainly strove
the ship on mountains of ice was drove
only the eskimo in his skin canoe
was the only one that ever came through

in Baffin’s bay where the whalefish blow
the fate of Franklin no man may know
the fate of Franklin no tongue can tell
where my Lord Franklin and he does dwell

and now my burden if gives me pain
for my Lord Franklin I’ll sail the main
ten thousand pounds I would freely give
to know lord franklin, and where he is

through cruel hardships they vainly strove
the ship on mountains of ice was drove
only the eskimo in his skin canoe
was the only one that ever came through

Colm writes:

Playing Irish music is a great way of making new friends. Show up almost anywhere in the western world, and you’re likely not far from a regular session or singing circle. And this song has made me more friends than any other. When people hear it, it seems to trigger a fondness. A few years ago when I was living in the Netherlands I set myself the task of coming up with an arrangement, and the harsh winter featured in the song seemed about right for the weather we were having at the time.

I learned it from the singing of Mícheál Ó Domhnaill, on the seminal “Promenade” album he made with Kevin Burke - and that seems to be the version of the song that most people recall. Through the happy geographic accidents of living near Áras Chrónáin in Dublin, and Portland I’ve sung the song with the help and accompaniment of many of Mícheál’s friends, and each time it’s been magical. Every time, it makes people smile.

I’ll also never forget singing this song in the Kilgarriff’s kitchen in Rush, only to be followed by a great rendition of Bob Dylan’s Dream by Jim Kilgarriff. Dylan wrote his version after he first heard Lord Franklin from Martin Carthy.

The song itself is sung from the point of view of Lady Franklin who, having lost her foolish husband to a crazy expedition, launched 7 expeditions to try to find him. Perhaps most poignant about the song is that arctic Inuit natives had no problems surviving in the conditions Franklin encountered, and the expedition was reported to have encountered locals after running aground - but wouldn’t lower themselves to asking for help or guidance.

Colleen writes:

When I was growing up, the music of Mícheál Ó Domhnaill, The Bothy Band, Planxty, Silly Wizard and many more from that particular point in traditional music were a big part of the soundtrack of the Raney family.

As a result, there are many songs that I know but don’t know, and this was one of them. I’d heard it hundreds of times, I imagine, and could hum along with it, but it was more akin to a beautiful piece of furniture in your home that you only really become aware of when a visitor mentions it. Anyway, the song arose in 2 different places at about the same time last year. Initially I heard it from the singing of Matty Einion Sears, who plays bodhrán on Cuan, and secondly from Colm’s beautiful version. It’s been a really lovely opportunity to study the song and the story of the song as we worked on it for performances and the record. (And the little cittern line that comes in around the 2:40 mark has turned out to be one of my favorites.)

Here we play the song in F, on DADGAD tuned Goodall guitar, and GCGCG tuned Fylde Cittern.