Skewball was the name of a British racehorse, most famous as the subject of a ballad. The horse was foaled in 1741, and originally owned by Francis, 2nd Earl of Godolphin, and later sold. His name has been recorded as "Squball", "Sku-ball", or "Stewball". He won many races in England, and a famous one in Ireland, which is generally the subject of the song of the same name. Popular legend has Skewball belonging to an Arthur Marvell. Based on the horse's name, Skewball was likely a skewbald horse, though there is speculation that he was a bay.
There are two main versions of this song. One is an English folk ballad which was later set to an American cowboy tune by Woody Guthrie and recorded by several well known artists such as Guthrie, Joan Baez, Peter, Paul & Mary, and The Hollies among others. The other version is an American version adapted by slaves in the southern states. That version has been recorded by Ledbelly, The Weavers, and by British skiffle singer, Lonnie Donegan.
We're doing the Woody Guthrie American cowboy tune version with a slight variation in the lyrics. It seemed more logical to me that the gray mare must have been the one who was drinking wine, as she is the one who stumbled and fell, whereas Stewball must have been in better shape because of his temperate habit of drinking water instead of wine. I think the lyrics have been perverted since the original event occurred, so I'm taking the liberty of setting the record straight!
Oh Stewball was a racehorse,
And I wish he were mine.
He always drank water,
But he never drank wine.
His bridle was silver,
His mane it was gold.
And the worth of his saddle
Has never been told.
Oh the fairgrounds were crowded,
And Stewball was there
But the betting was heavy
On the bay and the mare.
As they were approaching
About half way around,
The grey mare she stumbled,
And fell to the ground.
And a-way up yonder,
Ahead of them all,
Came a-prancin' and a-dancin'
My noble Stewball.
Well, I bet on the grey mare,
And some on the bay
If I'd have bet on ol' Stewball,
I'd be a free man today.
Oh the hoot owl, she hollers,
And the turtle dove moans.
I'm a poor boy in trouble,
And a long way from home.
Oh Stewball was a racehorse,
And I wish he were mine.
He always drank water,
But he never drank wine.
6 ноя 2010
