AN OLD FRENCH SONG

Evening Star, Issue 22228, 4 January 1936, Page 15

AN OLD FRENCH SONG

One of the most famous old French songs is ‘ Malbronk s’eu va-t-en guerre,’ and many people, quite incorrectly as it would seem, have associated with the famous Duke of Marlborough, though a little consideration of the words of the song would show them that it belongs to a period many centuries anterior to that of the wars of Queen Anne (writes Flinders Barr, in the ‘ Sydney Morning Herald ’), Writing about 1840, M. Lacroix, librarian to King Louis Phillipe of France, says that the song was composed after the battle of Malplaquet m 1709, and not after the death of John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough, who died in 1722, and he adds that not a single circumstance narrated in the poem or song is connected with the death of the Great Duke. In the prose legend which accompanied the ballad in the latter days of the eighteenth century, it was stated that the Duke was killed at the battle of Malplaquet, which was fought on September 11, 1709. The great general was actually nearly captured or killed in that engagement, and the rumour of his death was rapidly spread abroad. Marlborough had been a continual thorn in the flesh of Louis XIV., whom he had thwarted ceaselessly during many years on every battlefield of Europe, and not being able to conquer him, the French lampooned each of the Duke’s victories. An English writer of 1844 says that the song was not much known to' the heroes of Marlborough’s wars, but was preserved in some of the provinces of France, where it had been left by the soldiers of Villars and De Boufflers, two of Marlborough’s most noted antagonists. One cannot understand, however, why M. Lacroix believed the melody to be so modern. In 1781, by one of those strange freaks of chance, the old song was suddenly revived, and was heard from one end of France to the other. It happened that when in 1785 Queen Marie Antoinette gave an heir to the French throne, the Dauphin was nursed by a peasant woman nicknamed rather coarsely by the Parisians “ Madame Poitrine,’ which good woman had been selected mainly for her healthy appearance and good temper. This nurse, whilst rocking the royal cradle, was in the habit of singing ‘ Malbronk,’ and it is said that the young Prince first opened his eyes intelligently at the name of the great soldier. The name, simplicity, singularity, of the refrain and the touching melody of the air, interested the Queen, who frequently sang the song. Naturally all the courtiers repeated it after her, and even the heavy, lethargic King condescended to murmur,, though very unmusically, the words “ Malbrouk s’en va-t-en guerre.” Having become all the rage at the court, the song sopn spread to the city of Paris, whence it ran all over the Continent of Europe and crossed the Channel to England, where it became equally popular. The popularity of the song endured for years, and it was only the Revolution, the fall of the Bastille, and that meteoric hymn the ‘ Marseillaise,’ that finally smothered poor Malbrouk. LIKED BY NAPOLEON. The warlike and melancholy air of the song is apparently not of French origin, yet- even Napoleon, in spite of his general antipathy to music, is said to have hummed the words whenever he got into the saddle at the commencement of a campaign, and Count Las Casas has stated that he heard him hum the air at Saint Helena a little, while before his death. Strange to say, M. de Chateaubriand said the air was the same as that which had been sung by the Crusaders of Godfrey de Bouillon under the walls of Jerusalem. During Napoleon’s occupation of Egypt, which was brought to a close by Nelson and Abercromby, the Arabs still sang the old .song, which they declared their ancestors had learned from the Crusaders. The ancient words translated are as follows, the first verse being given as it is sung, the words “mironton, mironton, mirontaine ” being the refrain which was usually rendered as “ mironton. ton, ton, mirontaine.” and corresponded with the “ fal, lal, la ” used by former English song writers: — ■—The Death and Burial of Malbrouk. — Malbrouk has gone to the wars. Mironton, (mironton, mirontaine: Malbrook is gone to the wars. None know when he’ll return. Then, with the refrain repeated between the lines, as above, it continues: “At Easter perhaps ’twill -be, or else at Trinity, but Trinity has passed, and yet he comes not back. His dame ascends her tower, so high, she can go no higher, her page she sees approach in vestments all of black ‘ O sweet and comely page, what is the news you bring?’” “The tidings I shall tell will cause your eyes to weep —your gay attire to doff, likewise your silk and gold. Monsieur de MMbrouk’s dead—what’s more—he’s huri-ed. I saw him laid in the earth by four brave officers. One carried his cuirass, a second his buckler stout, a third his terrible sword. A fourth carried nothing at all. At the entrance of his tomb they planted a rosemary, on the highest branch of the tree a nightingale was perched. They saw it steal his soul, with laurel it to crown. Each man fell on his face—and then got up again, to sing the victories that Malbrouk had achieved. The ceremony over, they all went home to bed, some with their good wives, the others by themselves. ■ No single mortal failed, in thin l’m‘pretty sure; let them be dark oi' fair, or of the chestnuts’ hue. I’ve

nothing else to say, jnironton, mironton, mirontaine; I’ve nothing else to aay, and I’m sure I’ve said enough ” (thrice). No one rending these words can see in them anything connected with the end of the seventeenth or beginning of the eighteenth century, they refer entirely to the early days “ when knighthood was in flower.” The tale, according to M. de Chateaubriand, is a legend of Mambron a Crusader. KNOWN IN THE SOUTH SEAS. Now we come to the most curious thing connected with this wonderful song, for which the ‘ Moniteur de L’Armeo,’ a French military publication of I know not what date, is responsible; it says that when in 1770 Captain Cook was exploring the east coast of Australia, perhaps at Botany Bay, perhaps further north, one day (when the snip was evidently very close to the beach), the band began playing * Malbrouk S’en Va-t-cn Guerre,’ and a number of natives who were standing near the water’s edge “ evidently recognised the song and seemed enchanted.” It seems that it is suggested that during the centuries that have elapsed since cl-usading days the song travelled through Egypt and the Malay Archipelago till it reached Australia, a very wonderful journey for a song. Being anxious to find out anything 1 could about this strange migration, I went to the Mitchell Library to see if anyone there could assist me. Captain James Cook did not seem to me to be the kind of man who would have carried a band on board his ship, nor if he had done so would it have been a band that would play ‘ Malbrouk ’ to the natives. Also, we must not forget that the song was not revived in France till 1781, and Cook left England on his first expedition more than 10 .years before that date. On mentioning the subject to Miss Leeston, the librarian of the Mitchell Library, she said, that as it happened, a few days before, she had been reading some original letters of Captain Cook, which had just been acquired by the Mitchell Library, and which were noticed the other day in the ‘ Sydney Morning Herald.’ Amongst them was one from the captain to Sir Joseph Banks, and it will be remembered that this gentleman decided at the last moment not to accompany Cook’s second expedition; as he considered the ship selected, the Resolution, unsuitable for the work. In his letter, written from Sheerness, Cook advises Banks that he is sending to him those belongings of his already sent on board the Resolution, and they included a took and “ two French horn blowers.” If these two musicians had been on board the Endeavour during the first voyage they might by some stretch of the jinaginaion be described as a “band”; but one fails to see how it could have happened that they of their own initiative revived for the delection of the natives of New Holland the long-forgotten French air. Also one wonjd be very glad to know whence the editor of the r Moniteur de L’Armee ’ obtained his story of the delight of the natives on hearing from the deck of the Endeavour what seems to have been one of their favourite songs.