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Archiver > CORNISH > 2001-03 > 0983876686


From: Alan Trevarthen <>
Subject: [CON] Oggie Oggie, Trenoodle & Hoggan bags
Date: Tue, 6 Mar 01 12:04:46 +0100


>Now the Oggy Oggy Oggy Oi Oi Oi cry, which I first heard in Helston on Flora
>Day in 1973,

When I was at Redruth Grammar School between 1953 and 57 this 'Oggy Oggy
Oggy Oi Oi Oi' cry was in full use by the students as a 'war chant', a
sort of Cornish Haka. I always thought of it as Cornish (or at least
originating no further east than Devonport Dockyard or the Royal Marines
Commando bases in Plymouth).

Oggy or Oggie is
1 - a familiar name for a pasty (perhaps coming from the word Hoggan - a
lump of pastry with a bit of meat, etc., in the middle)
2 - Synonomous with Janner. In the Royal Navy and Royal Marines, Oggy,
Jan and Janner are nicknames given to sailors or marines of Cornish or
Plymouth origin. e.g Oggie Angove, Janner Jenkins, Jan Trevarthen (When I
was in the Marines the other marines from Cornwall called me Alan, but
the rest, from outside Cornwall, called me Jan). Jan and Janner tend to
be a bit wider ranging geographically than Oggie and can include anyone
who speaks with one of those mellow, rolling, accents that are (or until
recently were) typical of the tribes and nations of the south western
peninsula of Britain.
Jan of course is international too, and is common in Holland,
Scandinavia, and South Africa.

So I can vouch for the Oggie chant in Cornwall in the 1950s, but who can
take it back further, when did it start and where did it originate?

I had a look through Jan Trenoodle's song book of 1846 looking for the
words oggie, pasty and hoggan. There I found a couple of mentions of a
Hoggan bag, plus a definition in the glossary of a Hoggan bag. i.e.
'HOGGAN BAG, a miner's bag, wherein he carries his provisions.
{ Hogan (Cornish) coarse; also, a pork pasty.}'

The book is

SPECIMENS OF CORNISH PROVINCIAL DIALECT COLLECTED AND ARRANGED BY UNCLE
JAN TREENOODLE
WITH SOME INTRODUCTORY REMARKS AND A GLOSSARY BY AN ANTIQUARIAN FRIEND

ALSO A SELECTION OF SONGS AND OTHER PIECES CONNECTED WITH CORNWALL

" Vether it's worth while goin' through so much, to learn so little, as
the Charity-boy said ven he got to the end of the alphabet, is a matter
o' taste. I rayther think it isn't." QUOTH OLD WELLER

LONDON
JOHN RUSSELL SMITH 4, OLD COMPTON STREET, SOHO SQUARE.
MDCCCXLVI

____________

(The examples are extracted below).

An extact from JAN KNUCKEY AND GRAACEY
(Note that Brenda Wootton sings this rollicking song on her Breton CD 'La
Grande Cornouaillaise'

Now, up along to Church-town lived
A fine and thoomping daame
She were pure stout, as were her poorse,
Aunt Graacey were her naame.

Now Graacey had for many years
A little shop like keep'd
Where things for ould and childer too
Promiskusly was keep'd.

Tea, doat figs, and poldavy too
Cloam buzzas on the planching,
Scaal'd cream, and crocks, and coajer's end,
And apples ripe for scranching.

'Baccy, with cowals for the chowters,
Saalt pilchers, and some 'taties,
Eggs, clidgy, traade, and hoganbags,
Gowks, sparables, and lattice.

Aunt Graacey had some mabjers too,
A pig's-crow and a midden,
And sometimes sould a fine fat fowl,
Sometimes the piggy whidden.

Some cobshans she'd a saaved away;
Jan hadn't a got none;
Yet, thof she were a titch too ould,
He thoft they might be one.

Also, we find hoggan bags mentioned in Jan Trenoodle's GRACEY PENVEWOR
AND MALLY TREVISKEY.
An extract follows...

I'd two pratty young mabjers as eye cud behold,
So fat as the butter, jist nineteen weeks ould;
They were peeking about in the town-place for meat,
So I hove down some pellas amongst 'em to eat;

When, who but your man com a tott'ring along,
So drunk that I thoft fath, he'd fall in the doong.
A let tumble hes hoggan bag jist by the dour,
So I cal'd to the man, as one woud to be shoar.

Says I, "Martin, dost hire, cheel, tak up tha bag."
"Area," says a, "for what art a caleing me dog ?"
And run'd forth towards ma, nar better nar warse,
Nack't the mabjers both stiff we' a great maur of furz.

Like enow ef I hadn't goat hastys away,
A'd ha dun as a ded weth Jan kous t'other deay,
When a goat en es tantrums, a wilful ould devil,
And slamm'd the poor man in the head we' a kibbell.

_______
And folks, if you can't understand half these words, don't worry, this
was 1846.

Alan


Alan Trevarthen,
Paris, France


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