The Ursine Princes as we know them were first brought together in 1840, by Col. Winslow Fufkin, a corrupt and dishonest individual and owner of “The Jamboree” a somewhat unsettling mixture of circus sideshow and vaudeville that travelled throughout the American Midwest. He heard tell of a rag-tag group of scruffy urchins called “The Inky Monks” who had achieved notoriety in Europe during the 1700's by getting blind drunk and bedding the local virgins. Indeed, a recently discovered manuscript tells one such bacchanalian event in which “The ale flowed and much doggerel was sung” apparently, some of it “So coarse as to make a matelow blush”.
This appealed to the colonel’s sleazy side, and he sought to recruit his own group of minstrels to entertain his clientele. First to be recruited (press-ganged), was “Dim” Cyril, a chinless dribbling wreck of a man, but blessed with a strong arm and a superhuman capacity for alcohol. Next was Mordecai Garret, a slight and wistful boy, prone to fevers and not suited to life on the farm. He dreamed of fame in the circus and didn’t even need to be drugged by the colonels 'associates'. Also appearing was one Solomon Carter, an undertaker’s son blessed with a razor sharp wit and an uncanny talent on the violin. Last but by no means least was Jacob “The Arm” Jacobson, a bullish brute of a man who had spent his short life driving nails for the railroad company. He was also offered a job by the colonel as a 'right hand man' should this project fall through. Having assembled his 'Lords of Misrule', the colonel was prepared to take America for every cent they had to offer. Unfortunately, shortly into their first tour in the summer of 1841, he was identified as a deserter from the army and run out of town. He and his band immigrated to Britain shortly afterward and Britain never knew what hit it...

-THE WHO?-

The Princes spent the next few years touring around the poorer areas of the country or anywhere that more ‘specialist’ entertainment was enjoyed. In 1845 Solomon married a prostitute by the name of “Fleshy Lil”, unfortunately she was riddled with syphilis, and Solomon caught it, went mad and was committed to Colney Hatch lunatic asylum in 1852. As a replacement, the Colonel drafted in a Cornish fisherman known only as “Noah”.
Noah didn’t get on too well with Cyril, and sensing a moneymaking opportunity, while in Exeter, Fufkin held a bare-knuckle fight between Noah and Cyril. Noah Beat Cyril to death in the 42nd round. The Jamboree made a fortune and fled the city without paying rent on the field where the fight was held. This trend of taking money without actually paying anything out became habit for them until, in 1865, Colonel Winslow Fufkin died after being lynched by a particularly rowdy mob of Norfolk locals who had paid a lot of money to see ‘The Oldest Man in the World’. It turned out to be Mordecai Garret in a long white wig and nightgown. The Colonel argued his case that 40 was ‘quite old’ but the locals had none of it and hung him. The rest of the gang fled with Winslow’s son Franklin, who took over the running of the Jamboree. Things continued on a similar vein until the summer of 1870, when Franklin ran out of money, after developing a huge laudanum addiction. He played Jacob at a high stakes game of ‘Vingt et Un’ to fund his habit. Franklin was discovered to be cheating, and a vicious row ensued that culminated in Jacob shooting Franklin in the chest and fleeing to the coast. From there he disappeared into history.

There is no real mention of the Princes again until 1880, when Mordecai was severely bitten by a baboon called Francois, owned by one “Fivehead” Peverel, a bald ex-accountant who had grown tired of the city, purchased said baboon off a “swarthy sailor type”, and joined the Jamboree with an organ grinders routine with a twist. He would dance and caper whilst Francois would play the barrel organ. Mordecai subsequently caught a strange fever and died soon after. He was buried in a pauper’s grave somewhere in East Anglia.

-MOTLEY CREW-

Many thought that this was the end of the Ursine Princes and indeed, there is no further mention until in Dorset in 1922 Drusilla Spark, a woman with “a mouth like a pan of burnt chips and the manners of a docker”, decided to cash in on a recent trend of historical plays and wrote “The Ballad of the Ursine Princes” a crude musical of sorts that had more than a slight taste of the macabre. The part of Winslow was played by Silas Langney, an alcoholic mortician who gained notoriety in the area by performing a ventriloquist act with a human skull. The play not surprisingly bombed, especially in the Norfolk area, where on one night there was a riot after the play and poor old Silas was nearly hanged after one group of locals rushed the stage shouting “There’s gonna be a lynchin M’dear.” Luckily the group escaped with their lives, although the incident sent Drusilla into a frenzy of writing concocting musicals with names like “Are You Mad?” and “What Would Mother Say?”.

-FREE-

The Ursine Princes however began touring for themselves and for the first time they strived to actually play musical instruments. This was the genesis of the true Ursine Princes as we know them today. They comprised of Evan Daniels, a womanising dandy who could hammer the drums for hours on end, Bert Codlip, a rather ugly gentleman but a demon on the harmonica, Herschel Goldberg, a Jewish gentleman so small instead of double bass he played upright violin and Charlotte “Lottie” Codlip, Bert’s daughter and an absolute angel of a woman. They played all the popular tunes of the day and gained quite a following throughout the twenties where their musicianship drew the crowds almost as much as the spectacle of someone playing a violin like a double bass. In 1935, while on tour in Yorkshire, Evan was shot by an angry farmer after being caught in bed with the man’s wife. He was replaced by Irwin Lloyd, a surly individual who never really fitted with the rest of the band, and knowing the rest of the band that was quite a feat.
They toured the country for the next few years and even went into Europe, although they received a frosty reception, but in the words of Irwin “Those frogs are a fussy lot”. On the eve of World War 2 the Princes strangely disappeared and we find no mention of them until 1949. By then, the line-up was completely different, except for Herschel who was the main attraction anyway, but he was getting rather old and not long after finding a new band, the new band sacked him and released a record entitled “The Ursine Princes Sing the Blues”. It sank like a stone and was never seen again.

-BAD COMPANY-

The stress of recording this album broke the band up once more, but the legend of the Princes proved too much to abandon and one member from the last line-up of the band, a guitarist by the name of "Slowhand" Slocombe reformed the band albeit with completely different members in 1959. By complete fluke he managed to surpass even Fufkins original group of freakish characters.

On violin was an ancient eccentric by the name of Charlton Musgrove, who always wore a fez and a jacket made of spiders silk. Some said he could play better than the devil himself, but not many actually heard his skill first hand, as he would only play when the moon was full. Apparently, before joining the Princes, he had spent his heyday as a member of the "Blanford Forum Penny-Farthing Display Team". The singer was an agressive inbred Frenchman by the name of Didier La Tete, he moved to Britain from the Cote Du Merde, a scruffy village outside St. Tropez. They were accompanied last but by no means least by Joe "No Toes", an itinerant farmer who had his feet bitten off by a pig in a bizarre farming accident. He had a rather fetching replacement pair carved from mahogany by a local carpenter and won many clog dancing competitions in the East Grinstead area. It was with this final, and wholly strange percussive element that the Ursine Princes started touring once more playing traditional folk tunes, and at last gained some non-negative feedback from their shows. There were no more threats of lynching when they at last returned to norfolk, although some people accreditied that to their hiring of man mountain "Stratford" Tony as their manager. In 1965, while on a tour South Wales, Charlton met a lady called Frida. She neglected to tell him that she had just been released from prison, she also neglected to tell him she was also known as "The Dyfatty Poisoner". Personally, I dont think that it would have made the slightest bit of difference as Charlton was completely entranced by her virtuosity on the spoons. He recruited her to the band immediately, much to the chagrin of the rest of the band who flat out refused to drink her "tea". In Charltons eyes, the band was the best it had ever been, he had met the woman of his dreams and they were even making a bit of money. But all good things must come to an end, and sure enough, in the summer of 1967 "Slowhand" Slocombe succomed to a strange sickness (how's that for alliteration then?) The rest of the band secretly blamed Frida for this tragedy after realising he had had a heated argument one night in Baglan, but Charlton didnt seem to notice, and he and Frida were married in Lampeter on June 23rd 1968, coincidentally his 105th birthday.

-SPARKS-

Following this event, the band migrated permanently to South Wales, or rather Charlton moved and took with him the caravan that had been home to the band for so many years. This move seemed to up the tension somewhat, and arguments broke out ove trifling matters, usually related to Frida and her "tea". Things seemed to ease though when Tony heard of a a guitarist by the name of Wormelow Tump (they gave up trying to find a nickname for him, but lets be honest, did he need one?) He was a big fan of the new "rock" music that was all the rage at the time, and to be fair, he was a brilliant guitarist and quite a character I can tell you. at his first practice with the band, his amp was so loud, that it gave poor old Charlton a funny turn, and he died 6 days later. Completely devastated, Frida swore revenge and at a rock festival in Cardiff in 1969, before going on stage, Wormelow Tump got indigestion. He spoke to a first aid officer who offered him some brown stomach settlers, very effective apparently, so Tump took two. Frida was running the catering that day and had really made a pigs ear of the stewed beef and chips. Her cunning plan was to give her stew away for free, and then slip them a dose of her poisoned remedy for indigestion. Before long long, band members and audience alike were dropping like flies. The security did what they could but too many people had taken the brown antacid. Frida slipped away into the night and was never seen or heard from again.

The legend of the Ursine Princes should have ended there, but in Swansea in 2006 a Band were formed from the ashes of Ink Monkey who were the ashes of Dim Cyril. They were stuck for a name and the singer suggested Ursine Princes as a name. It got down to a coin toss, but the gods decided it was time for the new incarnation of the Princes. The Band apparently love the name, the fools...