New Market Jig
X:1 T:New Market, or John Paterson's Mare goes Foremost M:6/8 L:1/8 R:Jig S:Gow - 2nd Repository (1802) Z:AK/Fiddler's Companion K:F Sc/B/|AFA f2c|AFA f2c|AFA fcB|TA3 F2A|BGB g2d|BGB g2d|BGB gdc| TB3 G2 c/B/|AFA f2c|AFA f2c|AFA fcB|A3 FGA|TB>AB Tc>Bc| Td>Bd Te>de|f>ed gdc|"Fine"TB3G2||c|.A/.B/.c.F .A/.B/.c.F|A/B/cF A/B/cF|A/B/cF fcB| TA3F2c|B/c/dG B/c/dG|B/c/dG B/c/dG|B/c/dG gdc|TB3 G2B|.A/.B/.c.F A/B/cF| A/B/cF A/B/cF|A/B/cF fcB|TA3 FGA|TB>AB Tc>Bc|Td>Bd Te>de|f>ed gdc|TB3G2|| c|AFA f2c|.f/.g/.a/.g/.f/.e/ f2c|.f/.g/.a/.g/.f/.e/ fcd|~A3 F2A|BGB g2d|.=e/.f/.g/.f/.e/.d/ g2d| .=e/.f/.g/.f/.e/.d/ gdc|TB3 G2c|AFA f2c|.f/.g/.a/.g/.f/.e/ Tf2c|.f/.g/.a/.g/.f/.e/ fcf|~A3 FGA| TB>AB Tc>Bc|Tc>Bc Te>de|f>ed gdc|TB3 G2||c|.f/.g/.a/.g/.f/.e/ .f/.g/.a/.g/.f/.e/| f/g/a/g/f/e/ f/g/a/g/f/e/|f/g/ag/f/e/ fcd|TA3 Fd2|g/a/_b/a/g/^f/ g/a/b/a/g/f/| g/a/_b/a/g/^f/ g/a/b/a/g/f/| g/a/_b/a/g/^f/ gdc|TB3 G2c|f/g/a/g/f/e/ f/g/a/g/f/e/|f/g/a/g/f/e/ f/g/a/g/f/e/|f/g/a/g/f/e/ fcf| TA3 FGA|TB>AB Tc>Bc|Td>Bd Te>de|f>ed gdc|"D.C. al signo"TB3 G2||
NEW MARKET JIG. AKA and see "Black and the Grey (1) (The)," "John Patterson's Mare," "John Patterson's Mare Goes Foremost," "John Paterson's Mare Goes Foremost," "John Paterson's Mare Goes Forewort." Scottish, English; Jig. England, Northumberland. F Major. Standard tuning (fiddle). ABCD. Howe (c. 1867) directs: "Performed in the time of Horse Gallop." The alternate title "John Paterson's Mare Goes Foremost" is from a song written to the melody.
New Market  was famous in the 17th and 18th centuries for the exhibition of horse-races that catered to the British aristocracy and royalty since James I (who built a residence there in 1605). It was also a home to Charles II and numerous other monarchs, and remains famous today. The town itself is in Suffolk, approx. 65 miles northeast of London. A song called the "New Market Horse Race" was printed in the periodical The Weekly amusement: or, The universal magazine in 1735:
To horse, brave boys of New-market, to horse,
You'll loose the match by longer delaying;
The gelding just now was led over the course,
I think the devil's in you for staying.
Run, and endeavour all to bubble the sporters,
Bets may recover all lost at the groom-porter's;
Follow, follow, follow, follow, come down to the ditch,
Take the odds, and then you'll be rich.
For I'll have the brown bay, if the blew bonnet ride,
And hold a thousand pounds of his side, sir;
Dragon would scour it, but Dragon grows old,
He cannot endure it, he cannot, he wonnot now run it,
Age, age does hinder the speed, sir.