The Faithful Tribe: An Intimate Portrait of the Loyal Institutions

One old Orangeman whom I had the honour to talk to in his last years about songs and Orange songs in general was a pillar of his local Orange lodge and in fact a pillar of the district. He was a lecturer on Orange traditions and history and when I went and asked him, he refused to sing Orange songs to me on the grounds that he as an Orangeman had taken an oath to give offence to no man.

Moulden picked out ‘The Ould Orange Flute’ – a ‘rather amusing, fun-poking look at the distinctiveness between two groups of people’ – as being one of those songs that Catholics enjoy. (Indeed he suspects it may well have originated among Catholics as a satirical pastiche of Orange songs.)

In the County Tyrone, near the town of Dungannon,

Where many a ruction myself had a hand in,

Bob Williamson lived – a weaver by trade,

And all of us thought him a stout Orange blade.

On the twelfth of July as it yearly did come,

Bob played on the flute to the sound of the drum,

You may talk of your harp, your piano, your lute,

But nothing could sound like the ould Orange flute.

But this treacherous scoundrel took us all in,

For he married a Papish called Bridgit McGinn,

And turned Papish himself, and forsook the ould cause,

That gave us our freedom, religion and laws.

Now the boys in the townland made some noise upon it,

And Bob had to fly to the province of Connaught;

He fled with his wife and his fixings to boot,

Along with the others the ould Orange flute.

At the chapel on Sundays to atone for past deeds,

He said Paters and Aves and counted his beads,

Till after some time at the Priest’s own desire,

He went with his ould flute to play in the choir;

He went with his ould flute to play in the Mass,

But the instrument shivered and sighed, ‘Oh, alas!’

And for all he could blow, though it made a great noise,

The ould flute would play only, ‘The Protestant Boys’.

Bob jumped and he started and got into a splutter,

And threw his ould flute in the blessed holy water;

For he thought that this charm would bring some other sound,

But when he blew it again it played ‘Croppies Lie Down’.

And for all he could whistle, and finger, and blow,

To play Papish music he found it no go,

‘Kick the Pope’, ‘The Boyne Water’, and such like it would sound, But one Papish squeak in it just couldn’t be found.

At a council of priests that was held the next day,

The decided to banish the ould flute away,

For they couldn’t knock heresy out of its head,

So they bought Bob another to play in its stead.

So the ould flute was doomed and its fate was pathetic,

it was branded and burned at the stake as heretic;

While the flames roared around it they heard a strange noise,

‘Twas the ould flute still whistling, ‘The Protestant Boys’.

‘When I worked in Wexford [in the Irish Republic] years ago,’ remembered George Chittick, ‘that was my star turn. They couldn’t get enough of “The Ould Orange Flute”: I used to go into the bar in the hotel where I was staying. And it was great and there was good old crack and a good old laugh. I don’t drink, but I used to go down to sit with them and they used to sing away there and then they’d be shouting, “Come on, come on, you have to sing the ‘The Ould Orange Flute’.” They used to cheer. And then, “Give us ‘The Sash’, give us ‘The Sash’.” This was before the Troubles, may I say.’

Bands decide what to play. Lodges choose the bands. ‘In my young days, the bands were all flute bands,’ recalled Worshipful Master Charlton from Mourne. ‘There were no uniforms. And I remember our band had old police caps. I remember going and getting a bag full of discarded police caps and the women making white tops and putting a bit of elastic in them to go over the top of the caps. And getting blue ribbon and the women putting blue ribbons on them. And I remember going to Belfast and getting badges. The blue ribbons were because our lodges are blue.

‘Now we’ve an Irish pipe band here. In Mourne there are accordion bands, pipe bands and harp bands. I was just talking to a wee girl there, her harp and flute band, they won the Ulster championship in the Ulster Hall on Saturday. And they’ve practised in our hall. There’s better music now, but by and large the Orange hasn’t changed much. Only just the standard of living.’

There are devotees of all kinds of bands, but the instruments most associated with Ulster are the flute (or fife, the small, shriller version) and the drum. Alvin Mullan wrote in 1997:

My background is rooted in [the flute band] tradition and can be traced to the late nineteeth century, when on the Twelfth 1890 my great-grandfather Alvin Mullan began playing the fife along with the drums for an Orange lodge from Tullyhogue in Co. Tyrone, as part of the demonstration. Continuing this tradition, my grandfather William Mullan, a gifted drummer, led the drum corps in Killymoon Flute Band, the local part-music flute band from Cookstown, Co. Tyrone. Due to ill health my grandfather’s mantle was inherited by my father William Alvin Mullan, who led the drum corps of the band until it folded up in the 1970s (this band has recently been reformed under the same name and maintains the part-music flute band tradition in that area).

This background caused me, from an early age, to view the Twelfth as an occasion to listen to bands, view the impressive display of musical culture and long for the day when I could participate. This finally materialized on the Twelfth 1981 when I played the flute with Tullyhogue Flute Band in Cookstown on the return parade from the main demonstration. Thus my band career was launched and still continues with Corcrain Flute Band from Portadown (which I joined in 1985).

As a bandsman I regard the Twelfth as the most important parade of the year; all other parades prior to this are preparatory and any following are extra. The occasion demands much preparation. One’s flute must be in top working order, the uniform clean with trousers well pressed, the shirt snow-white and ironed in case the weather demands the removal of the tunic, shoes must be gleaming, and the music holder well polished. When the band moves off on the morning of the Twelfth it is really a most enjoyable and thrilling experience. All the preparation and months of practice result in a fine display of musical talent as the band plays through its march repertoire: Galanthia, The Bulgars’ Entry, Le Tambour Major, Our Director, The Pacer, Peace and Plenty, The Gladiator’s Farewell, Corcrain, Coeur de Lion and others.

In addition to the musical aspect of playing in a flute band on the Twelfth, there is also the opportunity to meet other bandsmen and listen to their music. There exists amongst bandsmen a great sense of comradeship and unity of purpose. The Twelfth provides opportunity to develop this by renewing friendships, discussing problems, swapping ideas, and reflecting on past Twelfths. As a bandsman the Twelfth means everything; it is the heart of the flute band tradition, its soul and life. Remove the Twelfth and the tradition will die.

In the early nineteenth century, Ulster flute bands came into existence, modelled on those that formed part of military bands. Initially, they played military music and paraded in martial style. Their repertoire broadened as their range of instruments increased; from 1907 these sophisticated part flute bands, complemented by a drum corps, have engaged in music contests.