Origin and meaning of The Raggle Taggle Gypsy
It is a truth universally acknowledged that children enjoy singing in a minor key, even if they don’t know that’s what they are doing. In the olden days school assembly had a bible reading, a prayer and a hymn. There was always a little buzz when a favourite was announced and favourites were nearly always in a minor key. “We Three Kings” or “Emmanuel” or, for a real rouser, “Hills of the North Rejoice.”
“The Raggle-Taggle Gypsy” is in the minor but like the hymns, not in the least melancholy. The tune is also user-friendly. It spans little more than an octave, comfortable for the trebles and the growlers both, so nobody gets embarrassed. (Compare it with the U.S.A. anthem “The Star-Spangled Banner” which covers such a span that nobody can sing it unless they have a highly trained voice.) The words of “Gypsy” are also child-friendly. Quite apart from the story, they fit the mouth beautifully - just singing “raggle-taggle” is fun.
The story is appealing too. Any running away tale is exciting whether it is Sweet Polly Oliver dressing in her brother’s clothes to join the army or boys running away to sea. (Think what a better time Shakespeare’s “breeches” heroines have than their stay-at-home sisters. Admittedly most of them have no choice in the matter having been exiled or shipwrecked, but the high romance is the same.) And high romance, of course, is just what running away songs are - the wind in your hair as you travel the high road or climb the mast to the crow’s nest. There’s no reality to spoil the illusion. No blisters, no hunger, no freezing cold sleet. Of course not. It is pure wish fulfilment and so is the song we have here. (The lady appears to have some common sense in this version - at least she puts on a suit of leather.)
The reaction of the lord is unusual. Most irate husbands chase after missing wives to avenge the insult by running a sword through the wife’s lover. It was, after all, a question of property and lawful inheritance. The wives of the aristocracy were the brood-mares of England, chosen for their dowry or their pedigree. A wife, aristocratic or not, was her husband’s possession, his chattel and no risk could be taken that any children she had might not be legitimate. The line, the family, the blood, the ownership of the land must continue.
This song is a love story. There is no mention of revenge or punishment. The lord wants his bride back again and his incomprehension is moving. He simply cannot understand why all the things he offers are not enough to tempt her. The song becomes call-and-response as he lists one by one the comforts and riches she leaves behind and one by one she refuses them.
Most girls do not have much experience in comparing a goose-feather bed with a cold open field, but that is not the point. The point is old-fashioned high romance and most small girls (always excepting those dressed entirely in pink who want to be princesses when they grow up) would make, in their day-dreams, the same choice as the lady. At least, I hope so. It would be a sad day if they didn’t.
P.S. I pinched the first few words of this commentary from Jane Austen.
I hope she wouldn’t have minded.
I only steal from the best.
Commentary written by Gillian Goodman,
© ClassicRocks, Mat Williams 2012
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