The Songs of a Nation

Dominion, Volume 26, Issue 302, 16 September 1933, Page 20

The Songs of a Nation

Her® and there in history there stands out a song whose words speak of the times that begot it —the “Lillibullero” that “whistled a king off three thrones,” the “John Brown’s Body” which, hackneyed and parodied though it may be, still carries something of the fervour of a great cam- ■ paign, above all, perhaps, that revolutionary song of Rouget de Lisle’s of which France has made a national anthem that has more content and colour than any of its rivals. But for the most part it is the casual and often inappropriate ditty that is seized upon and woven into the texture of stirring times. Who could have foreseen that the British Expeditionary Force, marching out of Boulogne after the long silence that had covered its movements, would choose to assert in unison that its heart lay in Tipperary, and would keep on singing so with such enthusiasm that the tune was not unnaturally mistaken in some parts of the world for a British national anthem? Who could have guessed that the poilu, snatching a half-forgotten cabaret air, would make the highways of Flanders echo to the lusty shouting of “Madelon”? Certainly not its as-' tonished composer, on whom the French Government conferred the other day the Legion of Honour. The poet who long ago expressed an earnest wish to make his country’s songs whoever else might make its laws did not sufficiently take account of the fact that even if he were given the job, and shaped his words and music never so well for the task in hand, his country would probably insist on singing something quite different and less worthy—something that for indefinable reasons had happened to take its fancy.— “Manchester Guardian.”