I was taught this many years ago by Dave Parry. His source was Part Third of Niel Gow’s Complete repository of Original Scots Slow Strathspeys & Dances, where the tune is provided with a simple bass part. It’s described as “A Scotch Measure”, and Dave rather liked the term Measure – he thought it useful for describing those English tunes in 4/4 which clearly weren’t reels, but which pre-dated, and were musically distinct from, polkas.
You’ll find other versions of the tune in the Traditional Tune Archive, under ‘O’er the Muir to Ketty’; and notes on the history of the tune – dating back to its first publication in 1700, in London music publisher Henry Playford’s A Collection of Original Scotch-Tunes, (Full of the Highland Humours) for the violin; Most of them being in the Compass of the Flute – on the page for ‘Madam McKeeny’s Scotch-Measure’
The Traditional Tune Archive tells us that this is a completely different tune to ‘O’er the Moor to Katie’. It’s also a completely different tune to John Stickle’s rather lovely ‘Owre da Moors ta Maggie’.
The Marsh in the tune’s title refers not to the area in the quatrième arrondissement of Paris, but to Le Marais Poitevin in the West of France, almost 1000 square kilometres of marshlands drained by monks in the middle ages, and now a Parc naturel régional (but thanks to man’s ill-judged interventions, infested with various invasive non-native flora and fauna – coypus, crayfish and some kind of aquatic weed).
Le Marais Poitevin at Arçais
My friends Mike and Linda moved to the small town of Arçais in Le Marais Poitevin some years ago. Somehow we’d never managed to organise a visit and then, at the start of last year, I heard that Mike had died. I’ve written before about my friendship with Mike, and how important he and his family were in my journey into folk music, when posting his compositions ‘The Waterlog Jog / Mox the Rog’s Jog’, and on my A Folk Song A Week blog. His funeral was attended only by immediate family, but one year ago they organised a memorial weekend for Mike in Arçais. Obviously the whole weekend was tinged with sadness. I certainly shed a few tears. But what I remember most about the weekend was a feeling of joy, great life-affirming joy. I met up once again with Mike’s sisters, and a couple of old school friends, none of whom I’d seen for 40 years or more; and we met lots of people for the first time – Mike’s in-laws, neighbours, work colleagues, friends from the year abroad that Mike and Linda spent in Germany as part of their degree courses… It should, I suppose, come as no surprise that someone as witty, entertaining, gregarious and irreverent as Mike, capable of discoursing knowledgeably on a wide range of topics, should have assembled a collection of interesting and entertaining friends. The sun shone, we ate, drank, chatted and reminisced, and those of us using the improvised outside Gents’ loo were able to piss directly onto photos of Donald Trump and Nigel Farage. Mike absolutely would have approved.
Arçais – playing a few tunes by the camp fire
Then, a few weeks later, I was fooling around in F on my C/G concertina, and found that – thanks to the extra buttons on that concertina – I could fairly easily put in a descending F-E-D-C run on the left hand. From that discovery, this tune was born. I can’t claim it’s particularly original – I’m pretty sure I’ve nicked bits of several other tunes, and knitted them together with a chord sequence which is fairly predictable, but no less satisfactory to play. But it does, as intended, sound like it might be French – I can imagine couples waltzing to this in the main square of Arçais…
A week or so ago, having bumped into a couple of people that we fist met at “Mikefest”, I realised that the first anniversary of that memorable weekend was fast approaching, and that I really ought to record this tune. Annoyingly, I’d forgotten how to play it, and then during the week I continued to muck it up; but on Thursday I cracked it (mind you, looking at the tune as originally written, I’ve clearly deviated from it in several places). And, as I always had at least half a mind to do, I played along to the recording on a variety of other concertinas. And here is the end result. The lead instrument is the C/G anglo, joined by my Crabb F/C and then, on the last time through, by two Bb/F anglos and another F/C.
This is for Mike and Linda, and everyone who has spent time at Eatonia.
Le Marais
Played on C/G, F/C and Bb/F anglo-concertinas
Here’s the ABC notation for anyone who wants it – please transpose into the key of your choice!
Squeezed Out 