Most of us know the song, House of the Rising Sun. Probably most people who think of it, when they do, think of the version by Eric Burdon and the Animals.
It's a great song.
Anything ever seem a little off about it, however?
The song is about a house of prostitution, which most people familiar with the song are aware of. As Burdon sings it, the lyrics are:
There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God, I know I'm one
My mother was a tailor
She sewed my new blue jeans
My father was a gamblin' man
Down in New Orleans
Now the only thing a gambler needs
Is a suitcase and a trunk
And the only time he's satisfied
Is when he's all drunk
Oh mother, tell your children
Not to do what I have done
Spend your lives in sin and misery
In the House of the Rising Sun
Well, I got one foot on the platform
The other foot on the train
I'm goin' back to New Orleans
To wear that ball and chain
Well, there is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God, I know I'm one
Now, it is a great song. And I like this version of it, which was released in 1964.
The interesting thing, however, is that song from a male point of view, which it is, it's sort of way ahead of its time. Not that it isn't relevant, it's just a point of view that I can't think of any other song from the mid to late 20th Century expressing that view. Basically, the protagonist is confessing that he's a sex addict and addicted to frequenting the prostitutes of The House Of The Rising Sun.
The song wasn't written by Eric Burdon, or any of his band. They were covering a song, which many are unaware of, that had already had a successful recording run when sung by Woodie Guthrie and Hudey Ledbetter (Leadbelly). Indeed, I thought Leadbelly had written the wrong, but I was in error on that.
The Guthrie version, from 1941, has the following lyrics:
There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God I know I'm one
My mother was a tailor
She sewed my new bluejeans
My father was a gamblin' man
Down in New Orleans
Now the only thing a gambler needs
Is a suitcase and trunk
And the only time he's satisfied
Is when he's on a drunk
Oh mother tell your children
Not to do what I have done
Spend your lives in sin and misery
In the House Of The Rising Sun
Well, I got one foot on the platform
The other foot on the train
I'm goin' back to New Orleans
To wear that ball and chain
Well, there is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God I know I'm one
Identical. What about Leadbelly? Well, he recorded it twice, first in 1944, which had these lyrics:
There is a house in New Orleans
You call the Rising Sun
It's been the ruin of many a poor soul
And me, oh God, I'm one
If I'd listened to what mama said
I'd be at home today
Being so young and foolish, poor girl
I let a gambler lead me astray
My mother she's a tailor
Sews those new blue jeans
My sweetheart, he's a drunkard, Lord God
He drinks down in New Orleans
He fills his glasses to the brim
Passes them around
The only pleasure that he gets out of life
Is a hoboin' from town to town
The only thing a drunkard needs
Is a suitcase and a trunk
The only time that he's half satisfied
Is when he's on a drunk
Go and tell my baby sister
Never do like I have done
Shun that house down in New Orleans
That they call that Rising Sun.
It's one foot on the platform,
One foot on the train.
I'm going back down to New Orleans
To wear my ball and my chain
My life is almost over
My race is almost run
Going back down to New Orleans
To that house of the Rising Sun
Oh, now wait a moment, that's a lot different. In this version, which is earlier, the protagonist, while sung through Leadbelly's male voice, is a girl entrapped in prostitution. Frankly, the song makes a lot more sense all the way around.
Leadbelly's 1947 version of The House of the Rising Sun.
In the second recording, which is the one people normally here, Leadbelly had followed Guthrie's lead, and the protagonist was male.
The first one presents a really grim warning. The girl who is the subject of the song has obviously left the house, and now is returning? Why? Well, contrary to the way prostitution is portrayed in film, her reputation would have been completely ruined and by this point that probably would have been her only option to try to make enough money to stay alive. Not only that, she's noting that she's expecting an early death.
More on that in a moment.
Leadbelly, it should be noted, didn't get around to recording until very near the end of his life. He died in 1949, and was first recorded in 1933. He was born in 1888 and was preforming professionally by 1903. Indeed, at first he preformed in Shreveport audiences in St. Paul's Bottoms, its red-light district, with his career interrupted by stints in jail, which are referenced in some of his most famous songs. He was in fact discovered, and truly was a great musical talent, by Alan Lomax while serving a prison stint.
Leadbelly preformed so early that some have speculated to what degree he was an indeterminable influence on the blues. He definitely was, but he also was unique in that he played a twelve-string guitar, very unusual for bluesmen, and his songs were always in the blues format but in sometimes in a near blues, ten bar, format. Indeed, some of those were converted to eight bar blues formats by later recording artists, probably basically by accident.
Anyhow, Leadbelly's songs often had a really old origin. This seems to be one. And the fact that the first version he recorded was sung from a female point of view is telling. Taht's probably how he learned it.
How early is that version?
Well, the song first makes its appearance by reference in 1905. By that time, it was being sung by miners in Appalachia, which means that one of the references doesn't quite fit unless the song had really travelled in the South. I.e., a song about somebody in New Orleans is out of regional context. The first printed version of the lyrics appear in 1925, with this:
There is a house in New Orleans,
it's called the Rising Sun
It's been the ruin of many poor girl
Great God, and I for one.
Just like Leadbelly had it.
The first recorded version came in 1933, later than I would have supposed, but still pretty early in the recording industry. It was by Applachain artist Clarence "Tom" Ashley and Gwen Foster. Ashley claimed to have learned it from his grandfather, which pushes the song back to the mid 19th Century. Ashley's version has a male protagonist:
There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
Where many poor boys to destruction has gone
And me, oh God, are one.
Note, this one has a blunter warning than any others with a male protagonist. The male vocalist hasn't gone to "ruin", but to "destruction".
Hmmmm. . . . so was it a male or female song?
My guess is that it was originally a female one, but because of its compelling popularity, it's been switched back and forth from its near onset.
So, was there a House of the Rising Sun that induced poor girls into lives, and probably shortened ones, of prostitution?
Nobody really knows for sure, but applying Yeoman's Eighth Law of History, as we should, would suggest it's likely. That law, as you'll recall, stated the following:
While that eight law mostly referred to old myths, it applies to more recent ones as well, as the basic principle is the same. The song clearly came out of Louisiana, and it traveled the South pretty extensively while persistently retaining its references to a House of the Rising Sun. There likely was such a place in Louisiana, or at the chances that there was are pretty good.
Indeed, a whole series of theories hold that it was on Conti Street in the French Quarter or on Ursulines Street or on St. Louis Street. In 2016 however, the New Orleans Times Picayune ran an article about an advertisement they'd found in which a hotelier was advertising the Mechanics Hotel, just outside of town, and with obviously pretty good rooming accommodations, which was noted to have formerly been "the old establishment of the Rising Sun".
Hmmm. . . .
The owners of the Mechanics Hotel wanted his potential guests to note that the hotel had a variety of rooms and offered a variety of services and accommodations, none of which included prostitution. The prior role of the Rising Sun wasn't mentioned, just that the Mechanics Hotel was where it formerly was, or rather that it was being rebranded. Perhaps it was also being repurposed. If so, that advertisement would have served two purposes, one being "don't stay away if you would have avoided the old Rising Sun", and the second being "don't come around if you are expecting the old services of the Rising Sun".
That advertisement, by the way, ran in 1828, which would mean that the song would have to have dated back to at least that approximate time.
So, what's the moral of the song? It clearly has one.
The basic warning is against living a life of depravity, that's clear enough. More than that, it was a direct warning about living a life of sexual depravity. Further, it warns the audience that the vocalist can't get out of it, now that the protagonist is in it, even though it would see, that the protagonist has tried. In the male variant sung by Guthrie, and in the female variant sung by Leadbelly, the protagonist informs the audience that the subject is at a railroad station with one foot on the platform, and one on the train, and is going back to New Orleans "to wear that ball and train". That tells us that the male protagonist is going back to New Orleans where he intends, seemingly against his will, to resume visiting the House of the Rising Sun. In the female protagonist version, she's going back to be a prostitute.
The female version is even grimmer. In that version, not only does the lyrics indicate that the subject is a slave to the situation, she's a different sort. Her slavery, in essence, is implied to be economic. Her reputation is ruined and she can't do anything else at this point. Moreover, she knows that she's going to die young, either at the hands of one of her clients, or more likely through disease.
Which takes us to this. That in fact was then and is now the thing that kills prostitutes early. It's odd how in Western movies like Lonesome Dove or Open Range this is ignored. Prostitutes were nearly guaranteed to get a venereal disease at the time, and it was probably going to kill them. Regular clients were likely to get a "social disease" as well, and the number of men who came down with one even where they were not regular customers, but who had made a visit a few, or perhaps even one, times were likely to as well.
Indeed, it wasn't really until after World War Two that it was the case that VD could really be effectively treated. . Nearly all of the treatments before then were ineffective to varying degrees. But that's not the last of it. Girls who fell into prostitution didn't simply think it an economic option, but were often victims of what was termed "white slavery". Kidnapped and drugged, or kept against their will in some fashion, sometimes by force, sometimes by addition. This is also still the case.
