Here's To Maybella

A Story In A Song

It’s 25th March, the date that the Tichborne Dole is ‘doled’ out to the poor of a village in Hampshire, UK. The origins of the dole I found so fascinating I just had to write a folk song about it. After all what better way could I leave a ‘footprint’ on the world to show that I had existed? I love the fact that songs and music live on sometimes for hundreds of years.

Anybody can find out the facts surrounding the founding of the Tichborne Dole in the 13th century just by entering it into Google and also about the curse uttered by Maybella/Mabella. (There are several different spellings of her name in the research documents.) This curse almost succeeded!

An addition to the song's story: Last March 2016 this song was played on the radio and somehow it was listened to by a lady in Ohio. This lady then contacted me and informed me that she was a direct descendent of The Tichborne family. The result, when she and her lovely husband visited the UK for a few days last September we met up in Tichborne Village and had lunch at the Tichborne Arms. This only goes to emphasise what I already know that the power of writing is mighty, the power of music is awesome and when the two join forces the outcomes are limitless. She and I are good 'internet friends' now although sadly her lovely husband passed away suddenly a few weeks after  they returned home.


Here’s To Maybella

Every year on Lady’s Day
The poor receive their due
Loaves of bread are given away
To help the needy through

This charity is made in the name of Maybella, a kindly soul
Who’s dying wish was only this:
To found the Tichborne dole

Here’s to maybela, her courage and strength
She crawled on her knees the breadth and the length
Of 23 acres of mean Roger’s land
Holding a burning log in her hand

Her husband was mean and driven by greed
And selfish to the core
He had no care for those in need
No interest in the poor

Maybella asked if he would give them a portion of his yield
He picked a log out from the fire
And pointed to his fields

Thinking it a minor loss
He said “ i’ll give the poor
The profit from the ground you cross
‘Til this flame burns no more

Now close to death, she was not able to walk and so she called
Her maids to take her from her bed
Around the fields to crawl

Here’s to maybela, her courage and strength
She crawled on her knees the breadth and the length
Of 23 acres of mean Roger’s land
Holding a burning log in her hand

Brave maybella perservered
Against the wind that swept
And Roger watched with growing fear
The distance that she crept

Then solemnly she spoke a curse that chilled him as he heard
“Your house shall fall, your name shall die
If you should break your word”

Here’s to maybela, her courage and strength
She crawled on her knees the breadth and the length
Of 23 acres of mean Roger’s land
Holding a burning log in her hand     


It can be listened to for free at: http://fandalism.com/annticipation/duOv I hope that you enjoy it.