Part 32
’Twas at the landing place that’s just below Mount Wyse, Poll leaned against the sentry’s box, a tear in both her eyes: Her apron twisted round her arms, all for to keep them warm, Being a windy Christmas Day, and also a snow-storm. And Bet and Sue Both stood there too, A-shivering by her side; They both were dumb, And both look’d glum As they watched the ebbing tide. Poll put her arms a-kimbo: At the admiral’s house look’d she; To thoughts before in limbo, She now a vent gave free. You have sent the ship in a gale to work, On a lee-shore to be jammed; I’ll give you a piece of my mind, old Turk: Port Admiral, you be damned.
CHORUS.
_We’ll give you a piece of our mind, old Turk: Port Admiral, you be damned._
Whoever heard in the sarvice of a frigate made to sail On Christmas Day, it blowing hard, with sleet, and snow, and hail? I wish I had the fishing of your back that is so bent, I’d use the galley poker hot, unto your heart’s content. Here Bet and Sue Are with me too, A-shivering by my side; They both are dumb, And both look glum, And watch the ebbing tide. Poll put her arms a-kimbo: At the admiral’s house looked she; To thoughts that were in limbo, She now a vent gave free. You’ve got a roaring fire, I’ll bet: In it your toes are jammed; Let’s give him a piece of our mind, my Bet: Port Admiral, you be damned!
CHORUS.
_Let’s give him a piece of our mind, my Bet: Port Admiral, you be damned._
I had the flour, and plums all picked, and suet all chopped fine, To mix into a pudding rich, for all the mess to dine: I pawn’d my ear-rings for the beef, it weighed at least a stone: Now my fancy man is sent to sea, and I am left alone. Here’s Bet and Sue Who stand here too, A-shivering by my side; They both are dumb, They both look glum, And watch the ebbing tide. Poll put her arms a-kimbo: At the admiral’s house look’d she; To thoughts that were in limbo, She now a vent gave free: You’ve got a turkey, I’ll be bound, With which you will be crammed; I’ll give you a bit of my mind, old hound: Port Admiral, you be damned.
CHORUS.
_We’ll give you a bit of our mind, old hound: Port Admiral, you be damned._
I’m sure that in this weather they cannot cook their meat: To eat it raw on Christmas Day will be a pleasant treat; But let us all go home, girls; it’s no use waiting here: We’ll hope that Christmas Day to come they’ll have a better cheer. So Bet and Sue, Don’t stand here too, A-shivering by my side; Don’t keep so dumb, Don’t look so glum, Nor watch the ebbing tide. Poll put her arms a-kimbo: At the admiral’s house look’d she; To thoughts that were in limbo, She now a vent gave free. So while they cut their raw salt junks, With dainties you’ll be cramm’d; Here’s once for all my mind, old hunks: Port Admiral, you be damned.
CHORUS.
_So once for all our mind, old hunks: Port Admiral, you be damned._
_OH! CRUEL._
Oh! cruel were my parents to tear my love from me, And cruel were the press-gang that took him off to sea, And cruel was the little boat that row’d him from the strand, And cruel was the great big ship that sailed from the land. _Sing too rol lo, etc._
Oh! cruel was the water that bore her love from Mary, And cruel was the fair wind that would not blow contrary; And cruel was the captain, the boatswain and the men, Who didn’t care a farthing if we ever met again.
Oh! cruel was the splinter to break my deary’s leg, Now he’s obliged to fiddle, and I’m obliged to beg: A vagabonding vagrant, and a rantipoling wife, We fiddle, limp, and scrape it, thro’ the ups and downs of life.
Oh! cruel was th’ engagement in which my true love fought, And cruel was the cannon-ball that knock’d his right eye out; He us’d to leer and ogle me with peepers full of fun, But now he looks askew at me, because he has but one.
My love he plays the fiddle, and wanders up and down, And I sing at his elbow thro’ all the streets in town. We spend our days in harmony, and very seldom fight, Except when he’s his grog aboard, and I get queer at night.
Then ladies all take warning by my true love and me, Tho’ cruel fate should cross you, remember constancy; Like me you’ll be rewarded, and have your heart’s delight, With fiddling in the morning, and a drop of gin at night.
_THE ANSWER TO OH! CRUEL._
Oh! cruel was thy parents that envied our love, And cruel was the press-gang that gave me such a shove, That took me head and heels and put me in a sack, And to the water side one took me on his back. _Singing too rol loo rol, etc._
I thought I was to die, so I began to pray, ‘Why hang your lazy hide,’ one unto me did say, ‘If you don’t hold your clack I’ll throw you overboard.’ I thought to my dear Poll I shall never be restor’d.
They soon a sailor made me with their cuffs and whip, I never lik’d their notions, I so often had to strip. The enemy appear’d. Oh! dreadful was the sight, The tarry lads so cheerfully preparing for the fight.
The captain loudly bawling every man to his gun, I tried to skulk away, thinking I had none; But I very soon found out my skulking would not do, For an officer with sword in hand would quickly run me through.
I waddled to the deck, but I rolled like an egg, When there came a whacking cannon-ball and took away my leg. I tumbled on my back and vented forth a sigh, When a bullet in a twinkling knock’d out my poor right eye.
So from the cruel wars I am safe at home again, And by my fiddling a livelyhood obtain, And now you have proved true how happy shall we be-- We’ll pass the days and nights in love and harmony.
Tho’ cruel was my fortune I haven’t lost the way Of getting grog at night by fiddling all the day; And tho’ I am depriv’d by a cruel cannon-ball, She’d rather have me as I am then ne’er a man at all.
_THE FEMALE LIEUTENANT; OR, FAITHLESS LOVER REWARDED._
William was a youthful lover, William lov’d a lady fair; Bells did ring and birds did sing, As to the church they did repair.
Then came twenty brisk young sailors, Drest in grand and rich array; Instead of William being married, Prest he was and sent away.
Soon his true love follow’d after, By the name of William Carr; Her soft hands and milk-white fingers, All were smear’d with pitch and tar.
Now behold the first engagement, Bold she fought among the rest; Her jacket open, void of danger, All expos’d her snow-white breast.
When the captain came to hear it, He said, ‘What wind has brought you here?’ ‘Kind sir, I came to find my true love, Him you prest I love so dear.’
‘If that you came to find your true love, Tell to me his name, I pray?’ ‘Brave sir, they call him William Taylor, Him you prest and forc’d away.’
‘If William Taylor is your true love He is both cruel and severe, For rise up early in the morning You shall see him and his lady fair.
‘For he some days ago was wedded And lives upon the Isle of Man, And with his beauteous bride has bedded A truth that none deny it can.’
Then she rose early in the morning, Early by the break of day, There she saw sweet William Taylor Walking with his lady gay.
She call’d quickly for a pistol, It was brought at her command; Strait she shot sweet William Taylor, With the same soon out of hand.
When the captain saw the wonder Which the maiden fair had done, He instantly made her lieutenant Of the gallant _Thunder Bomb_.
_BILLY TAYLOR._
A Burlesque Ballad.
Sung by Mr. Emery, at the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden.
Billy Taylor was a gay young fellow, Full of mirth, and full of glee; And his heart he did diskiver To a lady fair and free. _Fol lol etc._
Four-and-twenty stout young fellows, Clad they were in blue array, Came and press’d young Billy Taylor, And forthwith sent him to sea. _Fol lol, etc._
Soon his true love follow’d arter, Under the name of Richard Carr; And her lily white hands she daub’d all over With the nasty pitch and tar. _Fol lol, etc._
When they came to the first engagement, Bold she fit amongst the rest, Until a cannon-ball cut her jacket open, And diskivered her lily white breast. _Fol lol, etc._
When the captain com’d for to hear on’t, Says he ‘Vat vind has blown you here?’ Says she ‘I come to seek for my true love, Whom you press’d, and I love so dear.’ _Fol lol, etc._
‘If you come to seek for your true love, Tell unto me his name, I pray?’ ‘His name, kind sir, is Billy Taylor, Whom you press’d, and sent to sea.’ _Fol lol, etc._
‘If his name is Billy Taylor, He’s both cruel and severe; For rise up early in the morning, And you’ll see him with a lady fair.’ _Fol lol, etc._
With that she ros’d up in the morning, Early as by break of day; And she met her Billy Taylor Walking with a lady gay. _Fol lol, etc._
Forthwith she call’d for sword and pistol, Which did come at her command, And she shot her Billy Taylor, With his fair one in his hand. _Fol lol, etc._
When the captain com’d for to hear on’t, He werry much applauded her for what she had done; And quickly he made her the first lieutenant Of the gallant _Thunder Bomb_. _Fol lol, etc._
_CAWSAND BAY._
In Cawsand Bay lying, The Blue Peter flying, And all hands turned up for the anchor to weigh; There came a young lady, As fresh as a May day, And modestly hailing, this damsel did say:
‘I want my young man, there, Do you hear! bear a han’ there, To hoist me on board, or to send him to me; His name’s Henry Grady, And I am a lady Come off to prevent him from going to sea.’
The captain, his honour, When he looked upon her, Ran down the ship’s side for to help her aboard; Says he with emotion, ‘What son of the ocean Can thus be looked after by Helena Ford?’
The lady made answer: ‘That there is my man, sir, I’ll make him as fine and as free as a lord;’ ‘No, no,’ says the cap’n, ‘That can’t very well happen, I’ve got sailing orders; you, sir, stay on board.’
‘Avast,’ says the lady, ‘Don’t you heed him, Henry Grady, He once was your captain, but now you’re at large; You shan’t stay aboard here, For all that man’s order;’ Then out of her bosom she hauled his discharge.
Says the captain, says he now: ‘I’m blowed, but he’s free now’; Says Jack, ‘Let old Weatherface keep all my clothes;’ On shore then he steered her, And the lads they all cheered her, But the captain was jealous, and looked down his nose.
Then she got a shore tailor To rig her young sailor In tight Nankin breeches, and a blue long-tailed coat; And he looked like a squire For all to admire, With a dimity handkerchief tied round his throat.
And they had a house greater Than e’er a first-rater, With servants in uniform handing the drink; And a garden to go in Where the flowers was a-blowin’, The daisy, the buttercup, lily and pink.
And he got education Quite fit for his station, For you know we are never too old for to learn; And his shipmates they found him, With his young ones around him, All chips of the old block, from the stem to the stern.
_GENERAL CAMPBELL._
It was in the month of April, upon the fourteenth day, This expedition did embark to cross the raging sea; Our fleet being well prepared, our anchors we did weigh, To sail against the Burmese to show them British play.
When we embark’d from Madras it grieved our hearts full sore, Our wives and children weeping as they sat on the shore, Crying, ‘Art thou gone and left us thy absence for to mourn, To languish on a foreign land awaiting thy return?’
We left the roads of Madras upon the sixteenth day; Each man being well prepared and eager for the fray, Our squadron form’d a brilliant line to shew a grand half-moon: With British colours flying, we sailed against Rangoon.
When we were three days sailing, three sails appear’d in view; We fir’d off a signal gun, when quickly they lay to: Our commodore bore down on them, we followed him in line, But they proved to be some British troops awaiting us to join.
Next to Port Cornwallis our course we then did steer, And hoisted all our stunsails without either dread or fear. The next thing that appear’d in view was the Calcutta fleet, Was lying there at anchor, all waiting us to meet.
Our fleet being assembled (the sail was sixty-three) A signal gun for sailing was fired instantly; When out to sea we bore again, and sailed both night and day, And on the tenth of May, my boys, we anchor’d in their bay.
It was early the next morning, the weather being fair, We weigh’d our anchors to the bows, and up the river did steer. The enemy commenced on shore to put us to the rout; But we upon the decks did stand, resolved to fight it out.
The _Lilly_ frigate led the way, when clouds of smoke did rise, The _Leander_ sloop in company, which did our foes surprise; The _Sophia_ brig and gun boats, their cannon loud did roar, Like thunder rent the elements all on the Burmese shore.
‘All hands prepare for landing!’ resounded through the fleet; ‘Let every man have sixty rounds his enemy for to meet.’ Like lions bold we rushed on shore at ten o’clock that day: These cowardly dogs could not us stand, we forced them to give way.
Now Rangoon we have taken, let us drink unto our king; May all his loyal subjects fresh laurels to him bring. Likewise to General Campbell, who commanded on that day, And pull’d their saucy peacock down on the eleventh day of May.
_THE BOLD ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN ROSS._
Air--_Tars of the ‘Blanche.’_
Come listen awhile with attention, You seamen and landsmen likewise, While I of a hero will mention Which England, fam’d England, should prize. Bold Ross was our noble commander, His equal was ne’er seen before; But mark what us sailors went under When we sailed from Old England’s shore.
We sail’d to the Pacific Ocean, Our hearts both undaunted and free, Bold Ross cheered us all with the notion That we should all prosperous be; But our mainmast was soon smashed to pieces While we hauled in the ship _Fury’s_ store. Said Ross, ‘Now the tempest increases, ’Tis for honour of Old England’s shore.’
Long time in tempestuous weather, ’Midst rocks, ice and water were we; We were staunch, bold, and vowed to each other To die or the North Pole to see. Ross espied from the ship’s starboard quarter The land that did add to their store-- Crying, ‘Look out, my boys, for fresh water, We’re far from Old England’s shore.’
Our hardships we bore, and were ready To follow our brave captain’s call, Who was bold, was undaunted but ready, His study alone was us all; While we roamed o’er the cold stormy regions, On wilds that were ne’er trod before, No cot, house, or church or religion, Like those upon Old England’s shore.
You may talk about Parry and Cook, boys, Who tried these cold regions to find-- Only a short trip they took, boys, Then left the bright magnet behind. Bold Ross left the British flag flying, Which no one could e’er do before, Then light-hearted, though nearly dying, Came with glory to Old England’s shore.
’Twas thought that no one since Creation Would find it until time did end; But King William’s name of this nation So proud on that magnet does bend. So build for bold Ross a fine pillar, And cast it with gold letters o’er; Bold Ross brav’d the wave, ice, and billow, In triumph reached Old England’s shore.
This hero, the pride of our nation, Gained honour, likewise his ship’s crew; May they rise into dignity’s station For being undaunted and true. Bold Ross, as a pledge of honour, With the Lord Mayor of London did dine, And they gave him three cheers and a bumper, Drank to trade and to commerce in wine.
_THE CAPTURE OF ST. JEAN D’ACRE._
Come, all you old warlike liners, who boast of deeds of war Achieved by famous Nelson in the glorious days of yore, Hear what has happened lately along the Syrian coast: The downfall of the Egyptians, of which we made our boast. _So here’s a health to brave Napier; to brave Napier huzza! Who conquered the Egyptians, and made them run away._
On the first day of November, and forty was the year, The _Wasp_ off St. Jean d’Acre arrived, as you may hear. That night we anchor’d in the bay, and lay there all the night; At half-past ten the following day, the squadron hove in sight.
As they came in they anchor’d, and furl’d without more ado; But some of us kept under weigh, the _Castor_, _Wasp_, and Co. The next forenoon they all did weigh, (it was our admiral’s plan) To close with St. Jean d’Acre; the _Powerful_ led the van.
We took up our positions, abreast of Acre town, Determin’d, if they’d not give in, to knock their ramparts down. A flag of truce was then sent in, but they refused to treat Or come to any peaceful terms with this gallant British fleet.
At half-past two that afternoon the action did begin: Our shot and shell swift flew like hail, the ramparts soon fell in; The flagship and the _Powerful_ showed them smart British play, Against the noble _Benbow’s_ fire the Egyptians could not stay.
The _Castor_ acted well her part: the foe strove hard to shake her, But rather hot she sent her shot ’gainst the forts of St. Jean d’Acre. The _Edinburgh_ and _Revenge_, the _Carysfort_ and _Pique_, The _Hazard_ and the _Talbot_ made them think of quick retreat.
The saucy _Thunderer_ that day poured forth her British thunder, Knowing well it was the surest way to make her foes knock under. Besides, four steamers fit for war were there, I am proud to tell; They harassed well our enemy with death-conveying shell.
The warlike brave _Bellerophon_ is worthy of her name; For as she ranged up to the forts she poured forth smoke and flame. Austrian frigates and the Turks, although in number few, By Britons led they did their best--great praise to them is due.
Then comes the little stinging _Wasp_, her weight in gold she’s worth; For under the walls of Acre she took a liner’s berth: As close as ever she could get, her captain strove to take her, And sprung her broadsides to the forts, and stung poor St. Jean d’Acre.
That afternoon, at four o’clock, we heard a dreadful roar: Each vessel trembled at the shock, each eye was turned on shore. One of their magazines blew up, it was an awful sight; Death made an awful conquest there, the heavens were black as night.
The poor Egyptians, paralysed, scarce knew what course to take, And after five they all began their quarters to forsake: A general terror soon was spread throughout the shattered town; They confess’d us British conquerors and haul’d their colours down.
_THE BORNEO HEROES._
Come, all you jolly sailors bold, the truth you soon shall know Concerning of a glorious fight on the Isle of Borneo. As we were cruising off the coast we heard the dreadful news How the pirates they had massacred our merchants’ crews. _Huzza! huzza! huzza! huzza! with Captain Talbot, boys, we’ll die or win the day!_
The news it flew like lightning, from ship to ship it ran: Admiral Cochrane gave the word, brave Talbot led the van; And soon we manned all our boats, and down the river flew. Brave Talbot he commanded us with all the vessel’s crew. _Huzza, etc._
When we came up to the boom we found it so secure, The cannon from their batteries on us poor lads did pour; But soon we cut our way through, like lions sprang on shore, And soon five hundred pirates lay bleeding in their gore. _Huzza, etc._
While they were bleeding in their gore we rushed into their town, And there the produce of many a gallant ship we found; For plunder and distribution, boys, it was our whole intent: In one hour and twenty minutes the town to ashes sent. _Huzza, etc._
When we returned to our admiral and told him the glorious news, ‘Three cheers, my boys, for England, and all the gallant crews!’ So we’ll drink to Admiral Cochrane, and gallant Talbot too, The officers of the squadron, and all the vessel’s crew. _Huzza, etc._
Now we have returned to England, to let our friends all know How we destroyed the pirates on the coast of Borneo; For we left the flag of England by all nations to be seen: And for our reward we’ll boldly go, boys, to our gracious Queen. _Huzza, etc._
_THE SLAVE CHASE._
Set every stitch of canvas to woo the fresh’ning wind; Our bowsprit points to Cuba, the coast lies far behind. Filled to the hatches full, my boys, across the seas we go; There’s twice five hundred niggers in the stifling hold below. ‘A sail! What say you, boys? Well--let him give us chase A British man-of-war you say--well, let him try the race; There’s not a swifter vessel ever floated on the waves Than our tidy little schooner well ballasted with slaves.’
Now stronger yet and stronger still came down the fiery breeze, And ever fast and faster sped the strange ship on the seas, Flinging each rude and bursting surge in glittering haloes back, And bearing high to heaven aloft the English Union Jack! ‘Now curses on that ensign,’ the slaving captain said; ‘There’s little luck for slavers when the English bunting’s spread. But pack on sail and trim the ship; before we’ll captured be We’ll have the niggers up, my boys, and heave them in the sea.’