It seems to me that the researching of something with which we have become very familiar, pulls back a curtain revealing layers of change and highlights how something that started out in one form has eventually made its way to us in another.
The beginning of this particular untangling is rooted in Wales. Anything rooted in Wales usually guarantees a plot twist!
John Parry was born in 1710 in a village called Ruabon in Wrexham County Borough, Wales. It’s just down the road from the city of Wrexham which has that football club we’ve all heard about. John Parry was blind and didn’t play football but after a Welsh triple harp was given to him by the owner of the estate his family lived on, he devoted himself to music. By the time he turned 20, he had been offered a valuable patronage by a local and very rich Welsh landowner, arts patron, and Member of Parliament for the area. John became part of the entourage that surrounded Sir Watkin Williams-Wynn and would travel with Sir Watkin between his homes in London and Wales (a harpist being an essential service, one supposes). John served the Williams-Wynn family until his death in 1791 but was also able to build a career for himself outside of his duties with the family. He toured extensively in Europe and published several books featuring Welsh, English, and Scottish “airs”, including many old Welsh songs that were widely known and had been passed along through generations.
He dictated one such piece to a fellow musician/compiler which was then included in John’s first book, published in 1741. He called it “An Untitled Aria”, or whatever the Welsh equivalent of that was. By 1784, it had been retitled “Nos Galan”, which loosely translated means “New Year’s Eve”, and words were added.
The song was a call-and-response type that was sung by revellers as they celebrated the changing of the year, with lyrics that centered around winter, bosoms, and drinking (clearly Welsh). Often, one person would sing a line and the crowd would reply, the singer would lay down another line, the crowd would reply, then after the 3rd line, there would be a spot for the musicians to throw out a fancy riff if they had one, then the singer would slap down the 4th line and the crowd would merrily reply. Pub fun is always a bit hard to explain but somehow it just works!
The Plot Twist.
Thomas Oliphant was born in Scotland on 25 December 1799 to Ebenezer Oliphant and his wife Mary. (With that storm of Christmas references, I’ll bet this turns out to be a Yuletide story, you watch!) Thomas wasn’t a terrific student, although he attended College (didn’t finish) and powered through a number of private tutors. He tried his hand at working at the Stock Exchange in London but a career in finance just wasn’t for him. Finally, he embraced his natural talents and became a writer of lyrics.
The Victorians, in their heyday, embraced music from all over Europe, and especially loved opera. What they didn’t embrace was not understanding lyrics that were written in other languages, so Thomas Oliphant found a niche for himself in translating popular songs and operas from their languages of origin into English. Sometimes he would write lyrics for music that had none, but he really gained speed with his translations and became very well known for his abilities.
If he was to translate a piece from a language that he didn’t have a grasp of, he would ask a pal who did to give him the general gist of the song and then he’d ‘wing it’ with the translation. It wasn’t uncommon for him to make up his own lyrics for a song if he thought it suited the situation better. His work is now viewed as ‘interpretations’ rather than ‘translations’.
Such was the case with “Nos Galan”, the Welsh New Year’s Eve song plucked from John Parry’s collection a century before. For reasons that I can’t seem to uncover, the song was given to our friend Thomas Oliphant, and he transformed it from a Welsh song sung at New Years to an English Christmas song with a completely different meaning. Completely.
Indoor Holiday decorating had become fashionable, so Thomas went with “Deck the Hall” as a title and first line. There was only one hall when Thomas put his pen down (his version was first published alongside the original Welsh in 1862)—the pluralization came by the end of the 1800s. Likewise, Thomas’ version still included a few leftover drinking references but those too were re-written as time progressed.
One bit that hasn’t been modernized is the line: “Follow me in merry measure”. A measure was a reference to dancing. To follow someone in merry measure meant that you joined them in a lively dance. Ooooo, that sounds fun!
Amazingly, what also never changed throughout the entire history of “Deck the Halls”, from its earliest “Nos Galan” period, was the response, aka the Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-las. Those non-words have been sung in the same places (although that 3rd refrain was added when the musicians stopped needing a spotlight mid-verse) since words were added to this song. That phrase always seems a bit strange to me but by the time I’ve finished singing the refrain 12 times throughout the song’s entirety, I have forgotten all about that.
This Holiday Season, when the band strikes up the opening bars of this beloved Christmas song, thanks to John Parry and Thomas Oliphant you can confidently declare that you’ll take on the Welsh parts, and then with great enthusiasm (and at the right times!) sing proudly, “Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la”. You’ll be the toast of the room—everyone loves to claim a bit of the Olde Country during the Holidays!
