The Irish Washerwoman by HC in ’43

I told everyone that I was going to share something special from my mom’s side of the family this week, and I definitely think that this fits the bill.  It is a recording of my great grandfather Harry Clifton Phenice playing the song “The Irish Washerwoman” on his fiddle on June 12, 1943, in Hathaway, Louisiana.  At least that’s what the woman in the recording says at the beginning of the group of songs that are on the disk I have.  It probably is on that date, but it could have been from another recording session around the same time.

Harry, or H. C. as he was mostly known, was my maternal grandmother Myrtle Phenice Bucklin’s father.  He was born in Pennsylvania, grew up in Kansas and Nebraska, and ended up in Louisiana as an adult.  He was married to the most recent immigrant of my ancestors – Daisy Henrietta Keys Phenice from London, England.  She came with her mother, brothers, and sisters to the United States in 1887 at 11 years of age.  Her father Henry Keys had played the violin or fiddle and I think that her mother had played the piano.  The only portrait of Martha Ann Cook Keys shows her with her hand touching a piano.  Henry died before the family moved to America, but his violin came with them.  The violin is still owned by a family member to this day.

So Daisy was around music most of her life.  That continued when she married H. C., who was a fiddler like her father.  I wonder if they played any of the same songs.  “The Irish Washerwoman” is known as an Irish song (hence the name!), but some people claim there are English origins to the song.  The song has been around since 1785, so her father could have known it. 

She was fond of her husband’s fiddling, at least according to family lore.  Once he went to play in a local music contest and she asked him what he would play.  He told her that he hadn’t decided yet.  He would make up his mind once he got there.  Well, come to find out, he played a slower song and lost the competition to Daisy’s brother Leonard.  Daisy said that he would have won the competition – over her brother playing with their father’s violin – if he had played something more lively like “The Irish Washerwoman.”  That’s the story told by my grandmother’s younger sister Marguerite in some of her writing.  I’m sure Marguerite nor Daisy were biased in any way when judging musical talent!

I love that we have recordings of my great grandfather playing his fiddle.  It’s only because of his son Sylvan’s interest in radio and sound systems.  He cut those old records back in the 40s and they’ve been preserved in one form or another since then.  I know for sure they’ve been on reel-to-reel tape, cassette tapes, computer disk, and now on iPhone recordings.  That’s probably why they are a little rough around the edges.  But you can still hear the lively tune and you may even be tempted to dance a little jig!  Accompanying H. C. on the fiddle is his wife Daisy on the piano.  The way she plays reminds me of the way my mom played when our family sang at Shakey’s and other get togethers. 

The recording starts out a little slow, but then H. C. starts playing.  The fiddle playing is really interesting.  He seems to play around with the rhythms of the song.  I can’t really explain it well, you’ll just have to listen.  I wish I had a photo of him playing the fiddle.  That would be nice.  I wonder what ever happened to that fiddle of his?  That would be nice to find out.

But for now, enjoy the sounds from the past.