Part 10

One bright May morning the sun did shine, And lads and lasses all gay and fine, Along the coast they did trip along, To see the wedding, and sing a cheerful song.

Young Nancy then bid her friends adieu, And to sea she went with her lover true, In storms and tempests all hardship braves, With her valiant smuggler upon the waves.

One stormy night when the winds did rise, And dark and dismal appeared the skies, The tempest rolled and the waves did roar, And the valiant smuggler was driven from shore.

Cheer up, cries William, my valiant wife, Says Nancy--I never valued life, I’ll brave the storms and the tempests through, And fight for William with sword and pistol too.

At length a cutter did on them drive, The cutter on them did soon arrive, Don’t be daunted, though we’re but two, We’ll not surrender--like Britons true.

Cheer up, says Nancy, with courage true, I will fight, dear William, and stand by you, They like Britons fought, Nancy stood by the gun, They beat their enemies and quick made them run.

Another cutter now hove in sight, And joined to chase them with all their might; They were overpowered, and soon disarmed, It was then young Nancy and William were alarmed.

A shot that moment made Nancy start, Another struck William to the heart, This shock distressed sweet Nancy’s charms, When she fell and died in William’s arms,

Now Will and Nancy to life bid adieu, They lived and died like two lovers true, Young men and maidens, now faithful prove, Like Will and Nancy, who lived and died in love.

_THE FEMALE SMUGGLER._

COME, attend a while, and you shall hear, By the Rolling Sea lived a maiden fair, Her father followed the smuggling trade, Like a warlike hero that was never afraid.

In Sailor’s clothing, young Jane did go, Dress’d like a sailor from top to toe, Her aged father was the only care Of the female smuggler who did never despair.

With her pistols loaded, she went on board, By her side hung a glittering sword, In her belt, two daggers, well arm’d for war, Was the female smuggler, who never fear’d scar.

Not far they sailéd from the land, When a strange sail put them all to a stand; Those are the robbers, this maid did cry, The female smuggler will conquer or die.

Close along side these two vessels came, Cheer up, said Jane, we’ll board the same, We’ll run all chances to rise or fall, Cried the female smuggler, who never fear’d a ball.

They beat the robbers, and took their store, And soon return’d to old England’s shore, With a keg of brandy she walk’d along, Did the female smuggler, and sweetly sang a song.

Not far she travell’d, before she espied, A Commodore of the blockade, He said, Surrender, or you must fall, But the female smuggler said, I never fear a ball.

What do you mean? said the Commodore. I mean to fight, for my father’s poor, Then she pull’d the trigger, and shot him through, Did the female smuggler, and to her father flew.

But she was followed by the blockade, In irons strong they put this fair maid, But when they brought her to be tried, The young female smuggler stood dress’d like a bride.

The Commodore against her appeared, His health restored, and from danger cleared, But, when he found, to his great surprize, ’Twas a female smuggler had fought him in disguise.

He to the Judge and Jury said, My heart won’t let me prosecute that maid, Pardon I beg for her on my knees, She’s a valiant maiden, so pardon, if you please.

If you pardon this maid, said the gentleman, To make her my bride is now my plan, Then I’d be happy for ever more, With my sweet smuggler, said the Commodore.

Then the Commodore to her father went, Though he was poor, to ask his consent, He gained consent, so the Commodore, And the female smuggler are joined for evermore.

_JACK RETURNED FROM SEA._

HERE am I, poor Jack, Just come home from Sea, With shiners in my sack, Pray what do you think of me? Eight long years I have been Cruising the wide world over, Many a droll sight have I seen, But I wish the War was over.

I’ve sailed in many a flood, Where cans of grog did pour, Fought up to my knees in blood, Where bullets flew in showers, Where the French cried out parblue, The Dutch cried out Peccavi. The Danes and Spaniards too, Went tumbling to old Davy.

Sailors have mann’d the gales, Let it rain, blow or fog, The purser often fails To serve us out with grog. I’ve crossed th’ Equinoctial line, Where the sun would scorch your nose off, I’ve sailed in such a clime, Where the frost would bite your toes off.

It was off the coast of Spain, Coming from a six months’ cruise, Little did I think to hear Of such glorious news. I heard our people tell, Talking of an invasion, But that I knew full well, Was all a botheration.

I next was at the Nore, We cast anchor in the night, Looking towards the shore, A boat appeared in sight.

As on the yard we lay, Our topsails for to furl, I heard our pilot say There’s peace with all the world.[46]

I wish it was a peace, And all our men on shore, With the shiners in my sack, And go to sea no more. And should war come again, Damme if I don’t enter, And, like a jolly tar, Both life and limb, I’ll venture.

_THE JOLLY ROVING TAR._

IT was in the town of Liverpool, all in the month of May, I overheard a damsel, alone as she did stray, She did appear like Venus, or some sweet lovely star. As she walked the beach, lamenting for her jolly roving Tar.

O, William, gallant William, how can you sail away? I have arrived at twenty one, and I’m a lady gay, I will man one of my father’s ships, and face the horrid war, And cross the briny ocean for my jolly roving Tar.

Young William looked so manly, drest all in his sailor’s clothes, His cheeks they were like roses, his eyes as black as sloes, His hair hung down in ringlets, but he is gone afar, And my heart lies in the bosom of my jolly roving Tar.

Come all you jolly sailors, and push the boat ashore, That I may see my father’s ships and see they are secure, Provisions we have plenty, and lots of grog in store, So drink good health you sailors, to my jolly roving Tar.

She quickly jumped into the boat and merrily left the land, And as the sailors rowed away, she wav’d her lily hand, Farewell ye girls of Liverpool, I fear no wound nor scar, And away went pretty Susan to her jolly roving Tar.

_YOUNG HENRY OF THE RAGING MAIN._

ON a summer’s morn the day was dawning, Down by the pleasant river side, I saw a brisk and lovely maiden, And a youth called “England’s Pride”! He was a tight and smart young sailor, Tears from his eyes did fall like rain, Saying, adieu, my lovely Emma, I’m going to plough the raging main.

Cried Emma--Henry will you leave me Behind, my sorrow to complain? For your sweet features, lovely Henry, I may ne’er behold again! See, Emma dear, our ship’s weighed anchor, Tis folly, Love, for to complain, Though you I leave, I’ll ne’er deceive you, I’m bound to plough the raging main.

Said Emma, Stay a little longer, Stay at home with your true love, But, if you enter, I will venture, I swear by all the powers above! I’ll venture with my lovely Henry, Perhaps great honour I may attain, She cried, I’ll enter and boldly venture With Henry on the raging main.

Cried Henry,--Love, don’t be distracted, Perhaps you may be cast away, ’Tis for that reason, cried young Emma, That behind I will not stay. I’ll dress myself in man’s apparel, So, dearest Henry, don’t complain, In jacket blue, and tarry trousers, I will plough the raging main.

Then on board the brig Eliza, Henry and his Emma went; She did her duty like a sailor, And with her lover was content. Her pretty hands, once soft as velvet, With pitch and tar appeared in pain, Though her hands were soft, she went aloft, And boldly ploughed the raging main.

The Eliza brig was bound for India, And ’ere she had three weeks set sail, From land, or light, one stormy night, It blew a bitter, and heavy gale. Undaunted, up aloft went Emma, ’Midst thunder, lightning, wind and rain, With courage true, in a blue jacket, Did Emma plough the raging main.

Twelve hours long the tempest lasted, At length quite calm it did appear, And they proceeded on their voyage, Emma, and her true love dear. When just two years they’d been sailing, To England they returned again, And no one did suspect young Emma, Ploughing on the watery main.

IN England, and, for the matter of that, on the Continent as well, since this century was born, some trifle has tickled the people, and has been reiterated, until every catch-word has become a nuisance. In the early part of the century, for instance, “Has your mother sold her mangle?” “Does your mother know you’re out?” and, “Before you could say Jack Robinson” (which has passed into a recognized saying), were in everyone’s mouth. It is not often that these catch-words can be traced to their origin, but the latter seems to have arisen in the Ballad of

_JACK ROBINSON_.

THE perils and the dangers of the voyage past, And the ship at Portsmouth arrived at last. The sails all furled and the anchor cast, The happiest of the crew was Jack Robinson. For his Poll he had trinkets and gold galore, Besides Prize Money quite a store, And along with the crew, he went ashore, As Coxwain to the boat, Jack Robinson.

He met with a man, and said, “I say, Perhaps you may know one Polly Gray? She lives somewhere hereabout:” the man said, “nay, I do not indeed,” to Jack Robinson. So says Jack to him, “I have left my ship, And all my messmates, they gave me the slip. Mayhap you’ll partake of a good can of flip? For you’re a good sort of fellow,” says Jack Robinson.

In a public-house, then, they both sat down, And talked of Admirals of high renown, And drank as much grog as came to half a crown, This here strange man and Jack Robinson. Then Jack call’d out the reckoning to pay, The landlady came in, in fine array, “My eyes, and limbs, why here’s Polly Gray! Who’d thought of meeting here?” says Jack Robinson.

The landlady staggered against the wall, And said, at first, she didn’t know him at all, “Shiver me,” says Jack, “why here’s a pretty squall, D----n me, don’t you know me? I’m Jack Robinson! Don’t you remember this handkerchief you giv’d me? ’Twas three years ago, before I went to sea, Every day I’ve looked at it, and then I thought of thee, Upon my soul, I have,” says Jack Robinson.

Says the lady, says she “I have changed my state.” “Why! you don’t mean,” says Jack, “that you’ve got a mate? You know you promised----” Says she, “I could not wait, For no tidings could I gain of you, Jack Robinson, And somebody, one day, came up to me and said, That somebody else, had somewhere read In some newspaper, as how you were dead.” “I’ve not been dead at all,” says Jack Robinson.

Then he turn’d his quid, and finish’d his glass, Hitch’d up his trousers, “Alas! alas! That ever I should live to be made such an ass! To be bilked by a woman,” says Jack Robinson. “But to fret and to stew about it’s all in vain, I’ll get a ship and go to Holland, France and Spain, No matter where, to Portsmouth I’ll ne’er come again.” And he was off before you could say Jack Robinson.

HERE is a variation, such as I never met with before, of the time-honoured Ballad of

_BOLD WILLIAM TAYLOR_.[47]

I’LL sing you a song about two lovers, Who from Lichfield town did come, The young man’s name was William Taylor, The maiden’s name was Sarah Naylor.

Now for a Sailor William enlisted, Now for a Sailor William’s gone, He’s gone and left his charming Sally, All alone, which made her mourn.

She dressed herself in man’s apparel, Man’s apparel she put on, And set out to seek her own true lover, For to find him she is gone.

One day she was exercising, Exercising among the rest, A silver locket flew from her jacket, And exposed her milk-white breast.

O, then the Captain stept up to her, And asked her, what brought her there All for to seek for my own true lover, For he has proved to me severe.

If you are come to find your lover, You must tell to me his name, His name it is bold William Taylor, And from Lichfield town he came.

If your lover’s name is William Taylor, He has proved to you severe, He is married to a rich lady, He was married the other year.

If you’ll rise early in the morning, In the morning by break of day, There you’ll see bold William Taylor, Walking with his lady gay.

Then she called for a brace of pistols, A brace of pistols I command, And then she shot bold William Taylor With his bride at his right hand.

O, then the captain was well pleaséd, Well pleaséd with what she’d done, And soon she became a bold commander, On board a ship of all her own men.

Then the Captain loved her dearly, Loved her dearly as his life, And it was but three days after, Sarah became the Captain’s wife.

_RATCLIFFE HIGHWAY IN 1842._

YOU jolly sailors list to me, I’ve been a fortnight home from sea, Which time I’ve rambled night and day, To have a lark on the Highway.

_Chorus._

Listen, you jovial sailors gay, To the rigs of Ratcliffe Highway.

Some lasses their heads will toss, With bustles as big as a brewer’s horse, Some wear a cabbage net called veil, And a boa just like a buffalo’s tail.

I married a lass with her face so red, She eat three salt herrings and a bullock’s head, She danced a jig, then began to sing, Drank a gallon of beer, and a pint of gin.

I have sailed, indeed, all over the world, And never before my flag unfurled, In India, China, and Bungo bay, As the spot we call Ratcliffe Highway.

One night a lady did me drag, To have a spree at the Lamb and Flag. There she got drunk, and got in a row, And sold her shoes at the Barley Mow.

There is eels and shrimps as black as fleas, And a covey a selling blue grey peas, There’s ugly Bet, and Dandy Jane, At the King William in Gravel Lane.

Yes! you’ll see some girls as smart and neat, As the Dowager Queen of Otaheite, There’s every colour, indeed ’tis true, Green, black and purple, yellow and blue.

I went one night to have a reel At the Angel tap in Blue Coat Fields, I danced, and capered, and sung a song, And married a lady they call Miss Long.

I fell in with a lady so modest and meek, She eat thirteen faggots, and nine pigs feet, Three pounds of beef, and to finish the meal, Eat eight pounds of tripe, and a large cow heel.

I met with another borne down with fear, She guzzled down thirteen pots of beer, She threw up her heels and play’d the deuce, And broke her nose at the Paddy’s Goose.

You jovial sailors, one and all, When you in the port of London call, Mind Ratcliffe Highway and the Damsels loose, The William, the Bear, and the Paddy Goose.

_Chorus._

You sailors bold my song obtain, And learn it on the raging main.

_THE GREENLAND WHALE FISHERY._

WE can no longer stay on shore, Since we’re so deep in debt, So a voyage to Greenland we will go, Some money for to get--brave boys.

Now, when we lay at Liverpool, Our good-like ship to man, ’Twas there our names were all wrote down, And we’re bound for Greenland--brave boys.

In eighteen hundred and twenty-four, On March the twenty third, We hoisted our colours up to our mast head, And for Greenland bore away--brave boys.

But when we came to Greenland, Our good-like ship to moor, Oh, then we wished ourselves back again With our friends upon the shore--brave boys.

The boatswain went to the mast-head, With his spy-glass in his hand, Here’s a whale, a whale, a whale, he cried, And she blows on every spring--brave boys.

The Captain on the quarter deck, (A very good man was he,) Overhaul, overhaul, your boat tackle fall And launch your boats to sea--brave boys.

The boats being launch’d, and the hands got in, The whale fishes appeared in view, Resolved was the whole boat’s crew, To steer where the whale fish blew--brave boys.

The whale being struck, and the whale paid on, She gave a flash with her tail, She capsized the boat, and lost five men, Nor did we catch the whale--brave boys.

Bad news unto our captain brought, That we had lost the ’prentice boys, He, hearing of this dreadful news, His colours down did haul--brave boys.

The losing of this whale, brave boys, Did grieve his heart full sore, But losing of his five brave men, Did grieve him ten times more--brave boys.[48]

Come, weigh your anchors, my brave boys, For the winter star I see, It’s time we should leave this cold country, And for England bear away--brave boys.

For Greenland is a barren place, Neither light, nor day to be seen, Nought but ice and snow where the whale-fish blow, And the daylight seldom seen--brave boys.

_THE NEW YORK TRADER._

TO a New York Trader, I did belong, She was well built, both stout and strong, Well rigg’d, well mann’d, well fit for sea, Bound to New York in America.

On the first of March then did we sail, With a sweet, and a pleasant gale, Like hearts undaunted, we put to sea, Bound to New York in America.

Our cruel Captain as we did find, Left half of our provisions behind, Our cruel captain, as we did understand, Meant to starve us all, before we made the land.

At length our hunger grew very great, We had but little on board to eat, And we were in necessity, All by our Captain’s cruelty.

Our Captain in his cabin lay, A voice came to him, and thus he did say, Prepare yourself and ship’s company, For to-morrow night with me you shall lay.

Our Captain woke in a terrible fright, It being about the first watch of the night, Aloud for the boatswain, he straightly did call, And to him related the secret all.

Boatswain, said he, it grieves me to the heart, To think that I’ve acted a villain’s part, To take what was not my lawful due To starve my passengers and the ship’s crew.

There’s one thing more I have to tell, When I in Waterford town did dwell, I killed my master, a merchant there, All for the sake of his lady fair.

I killed my wife and children three, All through that cursed jealousy, And on my servant I laid the blame, And hang’d he was, all for the same.

Captain, said he, if that be so, Pray, let none of your ship’s crew know, But keep the secret within your breast, And pray to God to give you rest.

Early next morning a storm did rise, Which our seamen did much surprize. The sea was over us, both fore and aft, That scarce a man on deck was left.

Then the boatswain he did declare That our Captain was a murderer, It so enraged all the ship’s crew, They overboard the Captain threw.

When this was done, a calm was there, Our good-like ship homeward did steer, The wind abated and calmed the sea, And they sailed safe to America.

When we came to anchor there, Our good-like ship for to repair, The people wondered much to see What a poor distress’d big wreck were we.

_VIVA VICTORIA._

ROUSE ye lovers of peace and order, Of true freedom, with honour united, Rally round the old banner of union, And its glory shall never be blighted. We have bold hearts in British dominions, Who dare all a freeman should dare, But the Throne and the Queen be our watchword, And let traitors and foemen beware. Viva Victoria! Viva Victoria! Strength to the throne! health to the Queen! Viva Victoria!

We’ll have peace, but it must be with honour, We have no need of new names in story, But if war sounds the tocsin, then Britain, Still has heroes enough for her glory. Shame the Brawlers, who trade in sedition, Misleaders, who traffic in lies, And beware, lest those self-seeking martyrs, Would-be-lions, prove wolves in disguise. Viva Victoria! etc.

By the head, or the hand, if it toileth, May the honest man live by his labour, But the drone who can work and won’t work, Shall not rest on the strength of his neighbour. To the Throne, as the safeguard of freedom, By our birthright allegiance we swear, For the Queen is the Monarch of Freedom, To the King of all be our prayer. Viva Victoria! etc.

_QUEEN VICTORIA._[49]

WELCOME now, VICTORIA! Welcome to the throne! May all the trades begin to stir, Now you are Queen of England; For your most gracious Majesty, May see what wretched poverty, Is to be found on England’s ground, Now you are Queen of England.

While o’er the country you preside, Providence will be your guide, The people then will never chide Victoria, Queen of England. She doth declare it her intent To extend reform in Parliament, On doing good she’s firmly bent, While she is Queen of England.

Says she, I’ll try my utmost skill, That the poor may have their fill; Forsake them!--no, I never will, When I am Queen of England. For oft my mother said to me, Let this your study always be, To see the people blest and free, Should you be Queen of England.

And now, my daughter, you do reign, Much opposition to sustain, You’ll surely have, before you gain The blessings of Old England. O yes, dear mother, that is true, I know my sorrows won’t be few, Poor people shall have work to do, When I am Queen of England.

I will encourage every trade, For their labour must be paid, In this free country then she said, Victoria, Queen of England; That poor-law bill, with many more, Shall be trampled on the floor-- The rich must keep the helpless poor, While I am Queen of England.

The Royal Queen of Britain’s isle Soon will make the people smile, Her heart none can the least defile, Victoria, Queen of England. Although she is of early years, She is possess’d of tender cares, To wipe away the orphan’s tears, While she is Queen of England.

With joy each Briton doth exclaim, Both far and near across the main, Victoria we now proclaim The Royal Queen of England; Long may she live, and happy be, Adorn’d with robes of Royalty, With blessings from her subjects free, While she is Queen of England.

In every town and village gay, The bells shall ring, and music play, Upon her Coronation-day, Victoria, Queen of England. While her affections we do win, And every day fresh blessings bring, Ladies, help me for to sing, Victoria, Queen of England.

_THE QUEEN’S MARRIAGE._[50]