Part 3

Over the quarter, Over the sail, Into the water, Dead as a nail, Slung like a biscuit, Hot as a coal, Where the sharks may take the body, And the devil take the soul!

Then spoke Grim Sam of Jersey, “As we’ve heard A mermaid or a witch is the same bird, But of a different feather, so a pirate, And slaver, is all one for guards to fire at, For pirates kill and plunder all they catch, And slavers at the same are just their match; There ain’t no special difference” (it was said That Sam himself well knew the Guinea trade, And half-way to the devil had sent his soul By running into Cuba “sacks of coal”)— And then he sang to us right merrily A slaver’s song, which was not writ by me.

TIME FOR US TO GO

With sails let fall and sheeted home, and clear of the ground were we, We passed the bank, stood round the light, and sailed away to sea; The wind was fair and the coast was clear, and the brig was noways slow, For she was built in Baltimore, and ’twas time for us to go. Time for us to go, Time for us to go, For she was built in Baltimore, and ’twas time for us to go.

A quick run to the West we had, and when we made the Bight, We kept the offing all day long, and crossed the bar at night. Six hundred niggers in the hold, and seventy we did stow, And when we’d clapped the hatches on, ’twas time for us to go.

We hadn’t been three days at sea before we saw a sail, So we clapped on every inch she’d stand, although it blew a gale, And we walked along full fourteen knots, for the barkie she did know, As well as ever a soul on board, ’twas time for us to go.

We carried away the royal yards, and the stun’sle boom was gone, Says the skipper, “They may go or stand; I’m darned if I don’t crook on. So the weather braces we’ll round in, and the trys’le set also, And we’ll keep the brig three p’ints away, for it’s time for us to go.”

Oh yard-arm under she did plunge in the trough of the deep seas, And her masts they thrashed about like whips as she bowled before the breeze, And every yard did buckle up like to a bending bow, But her spars were tough as whalebone, and ’twas time for us to go.

We dropped the cruiser in the night, and our cargo landed we, And ashore we went, with our pockets full of dollars, on the spree. And when the liquor it is out, and the locker it is low, Then to sea again, in the ebony trade, ’twill be time for us to go. Time for us to go, Time for us to go, Then to sea again, in the ebony trade, ’twill be time for us to go.

“Wall,” said Mose Brown, “I ’low that that escape From the derned cruiser was a blame close shave, And I myself once in as bad a scrape Was lifted out by one big thumping wave On the same line of coast—or thereabout, Since it was off the Bight—that’s old Benin— Where as the sayin’ is, ‘but one goes out Of all a hundred strangers who go in.’ It ain’t so healthy quite—to be exact— As ’tis in Colorado high and dry, Where they send invalids—it is a fact— Off to some other country for to die; Excuse me, gents, for keepin’ you so long, Now I’ll proceed to let you hev my song.”

ROLLING OVER[4]

It was upon a Boston brig, and that was in the Fall, Our barky she was light as a gig, for our lading was but small; And it was in the American War as we were sailing thus, When we saw a steamer from afar, and knew she was after us. _Chorus._ Rolling over, rolling over, rolling on. The roaring waves they came, Like water into fire all gone, For the sea was all of a flame.

Now I have often seen by dark the sea a-burning bright, But nothing did I yet remark like what it was that night, And the wake we left behind us as we sailed for many an hour, Was like a fiery serpent who was chasing to devour.

And then the captain made a speech to us a-standing round, And said: “’Fore I’ll be taken I’ll be damned if I don’t be drowned; Yet if you will be plucky, men, and likewise well behaved, We’ve got one chance in a thousand yet, but what we may be saved.

“About ten miles to leeward there lies the Guinea land, And for fifty miles before it clear a narrow bar of sand; And if we find a deepish place—as such of them there are— It just is barely possible that we may clear the bar.”

Then we gave three cheers for our old man because we liked his dash, And allowed ere we’d go to prison that we all would go to smash; So then we set the wheel up with the steamer coming down, And never a man did care a damn if he was going to drown.

Now as we came unto the bar I happened to remark A spot among the waves on which the water it was dark; And I showed it to the captain, who saw the place was fit, And hollered to the helmsman to steer her straight for it.

Now just as we were working to this very closest shave, There came by Heaven’s mercy a tremendous booming wave, Which gave the barky such a lift, thanks to our lucky star, That though we felt the bottom scrape—by God we crossed the bar!

And as we came in the still water we gave three roaring cheers, For the rebel he was locked outside—of him we had no fears; But I never shall forget until I come unto my grave, How we were saved on the Guinea coast by the sea-light and the wave. _Chorus._ Rolling over, rolling over, rolling on. The roaring waves they came, Like water into fire all gone, For the sea was all of a flame.

Quoth Nat of Stonington, “That _is_ a bruiser, And yet I know darn’d well it could be done With the third wave—but talking of a cruiser, I know a song—’tis just a little one— But first I would observe that a _muskeeter_ Is not an insect, for as you should know The term’s applied unto a different creeter, Which sails about the Gulf of Mexico. Sometimes the thing is called a _guard-accoster_,[5] And when one did accost us with a gun, Out of the way we ginerally tost her; It ain’t hard work to make a greaser run. Well, that’ll do. We got a song before us, And them as likes may holler in the chorus.”

[4] This ballad was very much revised, corrected, turned over, and re-turned, by sundry old sailors, chief among whom was the ancient mariner, Captain Stead. Almost the same could be said of all these songs, but this one was specially “cut up and salted down for sea use.”

[5] _Guarda Costa._

THE MUSQUITO

Said Paul unto Peter, “I see a muskeeter, The boat’s coming over the bay.” Said Peter to Paul, “She is saucy, though small, And the captain is sailing away.”

Said Paul unto Peter, “Confound the old creetur, The boat’s coming over the bay.” Said Peter to Paul, “We will soon make her squall, And the captain is sailing away.”

Said Paul unto Peter, “We’ll bang her and beat her! The boat’s coming over the bay.” Said Peter to Paul, “Set stun’sles and all, And the captain is sailing away.”

Said Paul unto Peter, “We’ll give her short metre, The boat’s coming over the bay.” Said Peter to Paul, “Give her powder and ball, And the captain is sailing away.”

Said Paul unto Peter, “We’ll roast her and eat her, The boat’s coming over the bay.” Said Peter to Paul, “We will gobble them all, And the captain is sailing away!”

“Now, ’fore we fairly get into the Gulf,” Said Saltonstall, “and fall into its tide, Which swallows up so many like a wolf, I’ll sing a song about a place outside, Where a thing once took place which was a wonder— I mean the story of ‘Old Stand from Under.’”

STAND FROM UNDER!

I was sailing in a vessel a long time ago, All the while dead against us the wind used to blow, And it seemed as if aboard us that nothing would go right, When over the Bahamas a-sailing by the night. _Chorus._ By the night, by the night, When over the Bahamas a-sailing by the night.

In the dark, up in the rigging, or somewhere on high, “Hallo! Stand from under!” a voice used to cry; But the Being who hallooed it was always out of sight, When over the Bahamas a-sailing by the night.

On that gloomy haunted vessel, and all among her crew, Was a dark and silent sailor whom no one ever knew; And the Voice it called the loudest when that seaman came to light, When over the Bahamas a-sailing by the night.

And we said to him one midnight when we heard it worst of all, “Your friend there in the rigging is giving you a call.” Then he looked up above him with such bitterness and spite, When over the Bahama Isles a-sailing by the night.

When the Voice with “Stand from under!” once again to him salamed, He hallooed back like thunder: “Let go then and be damned!” Like a man in desperation who expects a cruel fight, All over the Bahamas a-sailing by the night.

And as the word was spoken—like coming to a beck— A something came a-whizzing and fell down upon the deck, And the body of a mariner was there before our sight, All over the Bahama Isles a-sailing by the night.

And looking at the dead man, he said: “I do declare! An hour’s sail from Cuba I stabbed that fellow there. And now he always haunts me, though I killed him fair, in fight, All over the Bahama Isles a-sailing by the night.”

“But the devil a bit of fear have I of dead or living men, I’ve lifted him before and I can lift him up again, And pitch him in the water, and sink him out of sight, All over the Bahamas a-sailing by the night.”

He grappled with the dead man in spite of all our cries, When life and awful anger came in the corpse’s eyes; It tore him to the toffrail and held him deadly tight, All over the Bahama Isles a-sailing by the night.

And overboard together in a grapple went the two, And downward sunk before us into the water blue; But in and all around them shone a corpo-santo light, All over the Bahama Isles a-sailing by the night.

But from that very minute the wind blew well and fair, And everything went right with us when we had lost the pair; But I always shall remember while I live that awful sight, All over the Bahama Isles a-sailing by the night.

“Now that we’re gittin’ t’wards the Spanish Strand,” Said Moses Brown, a-waving his bandana, “I just propose that first of all I land— As all of us have done—at the old Havanna. Adventures there do gin’rally abound, The natives being all sus-ceptive creeters; For if romance upon this airth is found, It sartinly _is_ ’mong the senoritas. Though he who of ’em would advantage take, Must be on hand and al’ays wide awake: _Quien el diablo ha de engañar_ _Mañana ha bien de levantar_.” Meanin’ that “who the devil would deceive, Must rise uncommon early,” I believe. That is the precious time to pick a salad, As happened to the fellow in my ballad; Who carried off the booty, as the Fox Took the fair Hen from the two fighting Cocks.

NEAR HAVANNA

It was down near Havanna town, ho! It was down near Havanna town, low, That I saw a mortal fight, At the coming on of night, By the starlight a long time ago.

Two Spaniards were a-fighting for their lives, The blades flashed like lightning up and down; To the click and the clock of the knives, And _there_ stood a lady looking on.

I asked her the cause of the fray, And she answered in Spanish: “Oh see! They are villains who carried me away, And now they are fighting for me.”

And I said as I looked at her face That I hardly could blame such a theft, “But I’ll wait until one gets his grace, Then I’ll tackle with the other who is left.”

But just as I spoke, with a start, The two leapt and fell on the sand, For both had been stabbed to the heart And each had his death out of hand.

So I and the _donna_ were friends, And that of the kindest and best; Now here this true history ends, And you must imagine the rest.

And ’twas all near Havanna town, ho! It was down by Havanna town, low, That I saw this mortal fight, At the coming on of night, By the starlight a long time ago.

There sat a stranger there whom no one knew, Who did not seem a follower of the sea, And yet no stranger surely to the Blue, Who now politely spoke the company, Saying unto them: “Mates, ’tween you and me, I put it as a question—don’t you think That it is pretty near time to take a drink? And if you do belong to Gideon’s Band, Then here’s my purse to pay—and here’s my hand”— There was a roar of laughter loud and long, And then the stranger burst into a song; But for a minute were they all so gay, For with the words their laughter died away.

THE THREE DEAD MEN _Los tres Muertos_

Ever so far and far away, Down in the hollow by the bay, Where the beach is dry and the rocks are high, Under the sand three dead men lie. There they lie alow, low, low, Nor hear the cockrel’s crow. Where the palm-trees are a-growing, and the wind is ever blowing, There they lie alow, low, low.

One was drowned in yonder sea, One was shot as it may be, One was left on the beach to die, But all in the hollow sleeping lie. There they lie alow, low, low, Nor wake at the cockrel’s crow. Where the palm-trees are a-growing, and the wind is ever blowing, There they lie alow, low, low.

Sometimes when the moon is bright You can see the three, like gulls in flight, Flitting along above the waves, Or sitting and talking on their graves, Where they lie alow, low, low, Nor hear the cockrel’s crow. Where the palm-trees are a-growing, and the wind is ever blowing, There they lie alow, low, low.

There was a pause—when some one merrily Struck up a song which all have known of old; How Billy Taylor’s sweetheart went to sea, And how she fought in an engagement bold: And as the talk ran on of female sailors Who’ve gone to sea in men-of-war, or whalers, Until I spoke and said: “I know a lay About a Spanish lady, old lang syne, Who, as a sailor, wished to sail away— The words are by another and not mine:”

THE LADY-SAILOR[6]

I’ll go in yon boat, my mother, Oh yes! in yon boat I’ll go; I’ll go with the mariner, mother, And I’ll be a mariner too. _Ay, ay, ay, verdadero,_ _Ay, ay, con el marinero!_ And I’ll be a mariner too!

Mother, there’s no refusing, What true love demands I must do; In love there’s no picking and choosing, So I’ll be a mariner too. _Ay, ay, verdadero,_ _Ay, ay, con el marinero_, And I’ll be a mariner too!

“I like those Spanish songs,” the stranger said: “Many I’ve heard and many I have read, And if you like I’ll give you one in rhyme, By Gil Vincente of the oldest time, Which holds its own, and bravely, one may say, For Spanish sailors sing it to this day.”

[6]

Irme quiero, madre, En aquella galera Con el marinero Por ser marinera.

THE SPANISH SAILOR’S SONG

If you’re sleeping, my dear, Wake and open to me! For the hour is at hand When afar we must flee.

If your white feet are bare Still no longer delay; For deep are the waters Which roll in our way.

The waters so deep Of the Guadalquivír; The hour is at hand, We must wander, my dear.[7]

’Tis strange, he added, how our land, in truth, As it goes Southward seems to turn to youth, And with a softer sun all words are sung— As things are warmed—into the Spanish tongue: I’ve given you a song, let’s have another; “Well, I know one,” I said, “which seems its brother, Although, compared to yours, it’s nearer zero, In Spanish, _Digas tu el marinero!_”

[7]

Si dormis, donçella, Despertad y abrid, Que venida es la hora, Si quereis partir.

Si descalza estais No querais calzar, Que muchas las aquas Teneis de pasar—

Las aguas tan hondas De Guadalquivír; Que venida es la hora Si teneis partir.

THE LOVER TO THE SAILOR

Now tell me this, my sailor boy, As sure as you love your wine, Oh did you ever see a ship As trim as that girl of mine?

And you who’ve been in many a gale, And stood on many a deck; Oh did you ever see a sail As white as my true love’s neck?

And you who have been where the red rose blows In many a Southern place, Oh did you ever see a rose Like those in my sweetheart’s face?

Here’s a cheer for the women with jet black curls, Of Spain or of Portugal! And seven for the Yankee and English girls, The prettiest of them all!

“Wall now,” cried Jones, “I railly must admit, Them Spanish songs of yourn hev taste and wit; But as I’m gettin’ hungry, what is upper In me just now is that I want my supper; And while it’s cookin’, till they bring the tub, I’ll sing you how a sailor lost his grub.”

GREEN CORN AND POTATOES

Oh I once was in love like a sinner, And the girl she was hahn’some and tall, She said she would cook me a dinner Of corn and potatoes and all.

In a pot she put ham and potatoes, One chicken, and that not too small; With gumbos and good red tomatoes, And beans and some oysters and all.

On a rock by the river she cooked it, When there came up a devil of a squall; And into the water it hooked it, With the corn and potatoes and all.

The ham and the beans and potatoes All went in that devil of a squall, With the chicken and big red tomatoes, And carrots and oysters and all.

Then hurrah, boys! Hurrah for the Union! And the banner which waves from the wall; Likewise for the parsnip and onion, Green corn and potatoes and all!

The gumbos, the greens, and the carrots— Likewise for the monkeys and parrots, And corn and potatoes and all!

Here John of Baltimore spoke out: said he— “Mates, you must know I’m goin’ to leave the sea; I’ve had a fortune left me, as I learn, So now I guess I give the land a turn. I am not one who a sea-life belittles, But do confess I cannot stand the vittles: You may correct me if you think I’m wrong; But first I’ll give my sentiments in song:”

THE SAILOR’S FAREWELL

Hard tack and cheese, good-bye! For I am going home, To keep me warm and dry, No more on the seas to roam.

Roast beef and turkey free, And likewise chicken-pie, Salt junk—farewell to thee! Hard tack and cheese, good-bye!

I’m going to the land Where ham and eggs they fry; Veal cutlets are on hand; Hard tack and cheese, good-bye!

Roast duck doth there abound, And mince and apple-pie In stacks is lyin’ round; Hard tack and cheese, good-bye!

I smell the rich roast goose, A second slice I’ll try; A third I shan’t refuse; Hard tack and cheese, good-bye!

Planked shad is very fine; I’m in for living high, On terrapins with wine; Hard tack and cheese, good-bye!

I seek my native soil, For soft-shell crabs I sigh, And oysters on the broil; Hard tack and cheese, good-bye!

Unto the canvas-back Myself I will apply, And hickory nuts I’ll crack; Of chinquapins no lack; Hard tack and cheese, good-bye!

The buckwheat-cake shall boom, The Jersey sausage fry; Amid green corn I’ll bloom, And hominy consume; Hard tack and cheese, good-bye!

I see the cranberry sauce, All with my mental eye; Plum-pudding I will boss; Hard tack and cheese, good-bye!

Venison on chafing-dish, With jelly, by the bye, Coffee and fresh cat-fish; Hard tack and cheese, good-bye!

I’ll soon be on the strand Where luscious reed birds fly; My own—my Maryland— Hard tack and cheese, good-bye!

Old Ocean with thy foam, For thee no more I sigh; For I am going home! Hard tack and cheese, good-bye!

“That bill o’ fare,” cried Abner Chapin, loud, “Is pitched too high for this here Northern crowd: New England rum, I spose, seems rather meek ’Longside peach-brandy down in Chesapeake. I don’t de-cry your vittles, by no means, But I prefer a pot of pork and beans To all the canvas-backs that ever flew, With soft-shell crabs and reed birds thereunto. And all burnt offerins of fries of lambs Ain’t worth a dish of good Rhode Island clams; And all your Spanish mackerel, my man, Worth one good mackerel caught off Cape Ann!” “Talkin’ of mackerel”—Here Peter Young Broke off this sermon with the “Mackerel Song.”

MACKEREL SIGNS

Mackerel clouds and mares’ tails A-sailing, a-trailing, Make lofty ships carry low sails A-sailing, a-trailing away.

When the mack’rel are in the sky, A-sailing, a-trailing; Soon the wind will be blowing high: A-sailing and trailing away.

When the mack’rel shine in the moon, A-sailing, a-trailing; Then the wind will begin to tune: A-sailing, a-trailing away.

Of all the wind upon the seas, A-sailing, a-trailing; The best is an evening mackerel breeze: A-sailing and trailing away.

“A mackerel is a sailor-dish,” Said Jones, “for ’tis a sailor fish, All drest, like us, in white and blue, Which I do call the prettiest hue Which the great heaven has to show Of all the colours in the bow: So, if you please, I’ll sing to you A little song about the Blue!”

TRUE BLUE

Blue is the sea we sail on, And blue is the sky above, And blue are the eyes As sea or skies Of the maiden whom I love: And blue is the flag we’re under, And blue is the coat I wear; But brighter the blue, And deeper the hue In the eyes which I hold so dear! Bluer and brighter and sweeter, Fonder and fair and as true; Oh it’s blue love and true love for ever! And God bless the beautiful blue!