A Yorkshire Almanac Comprising 366 Historical Extracts, Red-letter Days and Customs, and Astronomical and Meteorological Data
As the blade of the guillotine severs the head of Louis XVI four days before printing, demons stand on the scaffold and fly overhead, singing “Vive la nation” (“Long live the nation”) and “Ça ira” (“It’ll be fine”) (Dent 1793/01/25).
Harriet Ward. 1849. Recollections of an Old Soldier. London: Richard Bentley. Get it:
.In the attack on the fortified camp of Famars [on 23 May] 1793, the 14th regiment, under Colonel [Welbore Ellis] Doyle, went gallantly up the trenches, playing the revolutionary air of “Ça ira [les aristocrates à la lanterne],” in the same style of bravado and insult that sailors, during the American war, used to strike up “Yankee doodle.” The gallant bearing of the corps, attracting the attention of His Royal Highness [Edward, Duke of York] at the moment, he ordered that “Ça ira” should be the future quick step of the 14th; and so it has remained to this day. It bears a strong resemblance to the “Fall of Paris.” And I have an anecdote of this latter tune that I think makes a tolerable pendant to the story of “Ça ira.” When the Allied Army entered Paris, — what a day of triumph! – the Royal Regiment leading the way, struck up the “Fall of Paris.” An order was immediately given to put a stop to it, and on being desired to play a Scotch air, they changed it to “Croppies lie down.” In July, 1795, the 14th being ordered to “strike their tents and march away,” from Warley in Essex to Westhaling, Southampton, they passed through Dartford, the band playing the republican air “Ça ira,” when the inhabitants evinced their aversion to democracy, by throwing stones at the musicians, for playing so offensive a tune, but upon an explanation being given, the people responded with three cheers to the honour of the brave soldiers of the 14th, who had fought at Famars.
To facilitate reading, the spelling and punctuation of elderly excerpts have generally been modernised, and distracting excision scars concealed. My selections, translations, and editions are copyright.
Abbreviations:
Here’s Edith Piaf’s version:
Ward’s comparison with “Yankee doodle” is fascinating (can someone tell me more about musical-theatrical parody on the battlefield?!) but possibly misguided: I believe that one hypothesis is that it began its American life as a humorous British song about the shambolic colonials, who went on to own it. Whatever the case, one can imagine rehearsals of enemy music being fairly miserable affairs, rather like the production of American flags designed only for burning – the artists untouchables.
Doyle’s grandson, the poet Francis Hastings Doyle, wrote almost a century later:
For many years this tune continued to be the quick march of the 14th regiment. I understand that of late years the tradition has ceased to operate, and that the march is disused, or, at least, that its origin has been forgotten.
An excerpt from his revival verse:
Straight out in front their leader dashed
(A God-given king of men was he),
And from his bright looks on them flashed
One sparkle of heroic glee:
“They hold us cheap” (he cried) “too soon,
We’ll break them, frantic as they are,
Unto their own accursed tune;
Strike up then Ça ira.”The drums exulting thundered forth,
Whilst yet with trumpet tones he spoke,
And in those strong sons of the North
The old Berserker laugh awoke.
Their bayonets glowed with life, their eyes
Shone out to greet that eagle glance,
And, in her rush, a strange surprise
Palsied the steps of France.Then, like a stream that bursts its banks,
To Ça ira from fifes and drums,
Upon their crushed and shattered ranks
The cataract charge of England comes;
Whilst their own conquering music leapt
Forth in wild mirth to feel them run;
Right o’er the ridge that host was swept,
And the grim battle won.
(Doyle 1887)
I think it was this poem that gave rise to the canonical but improbable anecdote, told here by Ernest Hart:
The terrible and bloody associations of the “Ça ira” make it about the last tune that one would expect to find in the programme of a British military band. Nevertheless that tune has, for considerably more than a century, been the quick-step of what was the old 14th Regiment of Foot, now the West Yorkshire Regiment…
On May 23rd, 1793, the British forces took part in a fierce engagement at Famars, but the French held their positions with indomitable spirit, and their assailants were compelled to fall back. While the English troops were losing hope and courage, the Frenchmen were emboldened by their success, and their bands kept up the fighters’ spirits with the music of the “Ça ira.” Suddenly one of those happy inspirations which so often turn the tide of events occurred to the colonel of the 14th. Galloping up to the band, he commanded it to strike up the same revolutionary air, shouting as he galloped back to the front, “Come on, lads, and we’ll beat ’em to their own damned tune!” The band, which must have had a pretty good ear for melody and key, gave the tune with vigor, we are told, and the colonel led his regiment to an assault which resulted in the rout of the enemy.
(Hart 1918/10)
Here’s a hand-coloured version of the image, which won’t appear in the book. This is because the British Museum, probably illegally, claims copyright over photos of public domain images in its possession, charges absurd fees for even borderline commercial use, and can afford lawyers:
Source: British Museum under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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The morning after Waterloo the 14th had only a march of nine miles before them, to a place called Nivelles. Fancy, after this bloody business, these “boys” equipping themselves in the spoils of the enemy; just as if they were only “playing at soldiers.” One had a cuirass with a bullet-hole in the breast, another a helmet, a third a grenadier’s cap of the Imperial Guard. In this travestie they marched into Nivelles, to the tune of “Ça ira,” and to the utter surprise of the inhabitants, at their thus wearing the habiliments of the enemy, and playing the national tune.
There hangs a tale by this same tune of “Ça ira.”
Ah! Ça ira, ça ira, ça ira,
Les aristocrates à la lanterne.
In the attack on the fortified camp of Famars [on 23 May] 1793, the 14th regiment, under Colonel [Welbore Ellis] Doyle, went gallantly up the trenches, playing the revolutionary air of “Ça ira,” in the same style of bravado and insult that sailors, during the American war, used to strike up “Yankee doodle.” The gallant bearing of the corps, attracting the attention of His Royal Highness [Edward, Duke of York] at the moment, he ordered that “Ça ira” should be the future quick step of the 14th; and so it has remained to this day. It bears a strong resemblance to the “Fall of Paris.” And I have an anecdote of this latter tune that I think makes a tolerable pendant to the story of “Ça ira.” When the Allied Army entered Paris, — what a day of triumph! – the Royal Regiment leading the way, struck up the “Fall of Paris.” An order was immediately given to put a stop to it, and on being desired to play a Scotch air, they changed it to “Croppies lie down.”
In July, 1795, the 14th being ordered to “strike their tents and march away,” from Warley in Essex to Westhaling, Southampton, they passed through Dartford, the band playing the republican air “Ça ira,” when the inhabitants evinced their aversion to democracy, by throwing stones at the musicians, for playing so offensive a tune, but upon an explanation being given, the people responded with three cheers to the honour of the brave soldiers of the 14th, who had fought at Famars.
393 words.
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