"Praise the Lord! We are a musical nation."

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In 1943, when I had not even reached my first birthday, Dylan Thomas was having his first ideas for a play about a village where everyone had gone slightly mad. This caused concern in London and an inspector was therefore sent down to certify the people collectively. The villagers, in giving their evidence, stated that, in their estimation it is the world, not them, that has gone crazy - a world full of greed, war and violence. The inspector judges them as condemned out of their own mouths.

The play was to be called “The Village of the Mad”. (Later, “The Town was Mad”).

Dylan was not particularly strong on plots and therefore the idea of a plot was abandoned for a lazy, relaxed account of the daily routines of the slightly ’loony’ villagers.

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Dylan Thomas.

He finally got down to writing what we now know as “Under Milkwood” in 1950/51 as he and his family settled down in Laugharne, in South Wales.

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His Laugharne boathouse home.

Its first performance was at the Fogg Museum at Harvard, in May 1953, when the author read the whole play in solo performance. Later that month a recording was made in New York, but this time with a cast.

At this stage some of the poems and songs were still to be written.

The BBC’s recorded production was planned for the 24th January 1954, with Dylan playing First Voice.

It was not to be,

as Dylan Thomas died on the 9th November 1953,

fifty seven years ago today.

The recording however, went ahead, with Richard Burton taking Dylan’s part as First Voice.

Although his live recording of “Under Milkwood” in New York contained a little music, - an unaccompanied Polly Garter song and the children’s pieces - there was evidence that Dylan had been thinking of a much greater musical content.

Therefore the two songs “Johnny Crack and Flossie Snail”, and the Polly Garter’s song were included in the BBC recording with music written by Dr Daniel Jones.

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My original box cover.

In 1969 I bought a boxed set of this original 1954 vinyl recording and think I may just give it a ’spin’ tonight.

Sing to me Polly.

I loved a man whose name was Tom,

He was strong as a bear and two yards long.

I loved a man whose name was Dick,

He was big as a barrel and three feet thick;

And I loved man whose name was Harry,

Six feet tall and sweet as a cherry.

But the one I loved best, a-wake or a-sleep,

Was little Willy Wee and he's six feet deep.

{Chorus}

Oh, Tom Dick and Harry were three fine men,

And I'll never have such loving again.

But little Willy Wee, who took me on his knee;

Little Willy Wee is the man for me.

Now men from every Parish around,

Run after me and roll me to the ground;

But whenever I love another man back,

Johnny from the Hill, or sailing Jack;

I always think as they do as they please

Of Tom Dick or Harry who were tall as trees.

And most of all, I think when I am by their side,

Of Little Willy Wee who drowned and died.

{Chorus)

Now when the farmers boys on the first fair day,

Come down from the hills to drink and be gay.

Before the sun sinks I'll lie there in their arms,

For they're good bad boys from the lonely farms;

But I always think as we tumble into bed,

Of little Willy Wee who is dead, dead, dead.

But I always think as we tumble into bed,

Of little Willy Wee who is dead, dead, dead.

Oh, Tom Dick and Harry were three fine men,

And I'll never have such loving again;

But I always think as we tumble into bed,

Of little Willy Wee who is dead, dead, dead

And to finish off with a bit of music,

I managed to find a rendition of just the first verse for you.

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".........it is the world, not them, that has gone crazy -

- a world full of greed, war and violence."

I don't think they were 'far off the mark', do you?

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