Which was presently shewn to the people all round,
’Twas given to the boy, who off with it did run,
And he laugh’d for to think how the Bumpkin he’d done.
Then John, he stood roaring, just like a great calf,
Whilst those standing by, did heartily laugh,
The people all thought that the boy he did rob,
Says John, from this time I’ll ne’er do such a job.
ALTHOUGH the Mutiny of the Fleet at the Nore does not properly
belong to this century, yet it so nearly approached it (1797), and
was of such national importance for the time being, that I venture
to insert a ballad respecting it. The Navy was in a bad state. Many
men had been impressed; they were badly paid and badly fed; and
their punishment, for the slightest infraction of discipline, was
fearful, 50 to 500 lashes, according to the temper of the captain,
being no infrequent punishment for very venial offences. Early in
the year the men sent in very respectful memorials to Lord Howe,
telling him of their grievances. No notice was taken of it, and the
men, probably ignorantly, committed a gross breach of discipline in
combining together and opening communications with each other
throughout the Fleet. They plotted to seize the ships and expel the
officers; but it became known, and the Admiral gave orders to sail
to sea. The men refused to do so, until their grievances had been
looked into and redressed. This was promised and granted, but still
the men were suspicious that faith would not be kept with them, and
they set some of their officers ashore. Lord Howe, however, went to
the Fleet at St. Helen’s, and showed them an Act of Parliament,
granting their demands, and this pacified that portion of the
Fleet.
But at the Nore there was open mutiny; they blockaded the entrance
to the Thames, and fired on several ships entering or departing.
This could not be endured, and the Admiralty removed the buoys.
Provisions ran short, and some men-of-war were sent alongside, with
orders to sink those ships that did not surrender. They gave in one
by one, and the chief ringleader, Richard Parker (a man of some
education), and several others were hanged; but they were long
regarded as martyrs. Parker was buried in the churchyard of St.
Mary Matfelon, Whitechapel.
[Illustration]
_DEATH OF PARKER._
YE Gods above, protect the widow,
And with pity look down on me,
Help me, help me out of trouble,
And out of all calamity.
For by the death of my brave Parker,
Fortune hath prov’d to me unkind;
Tho’ doom’d by law, he was to suffer,
I can’t erase him from my mind.
Parker he was my lawful husband,
My bosom friend I lov’d so dear;
At the awful moment he was going to suffer
I was not allowed to come near.
In vain I strove, in vain I asked,
Three times, o’er and o’er again,
But they replied, you must be denied,
You must return on shore again.
First time I attempted my love to see,
I was obliged to go away,
Oppress’d with grief, and broken hearted,
To think that they should me stay.
I thought I saw the yellow flag flying,
A signal for my husband to die,
A gun was fired, as they required,
As the time it did draw nigh.
The boatswain did his best endeavour,
To get me on shore without delay,
When I stood trembling and confounded,
Ready to take his body away.
Though his trembling hand did wave,
As a signal of farewell,
The grief I suffered at this moment,
No heart can paint, or tongue can tell.
My fleeting spirit I thought would follow,
The soul of him I love so dear,
No friend, nor neighbour would come nigh me,
For to ease me of my grief and care.
Every moment I thought an hour,
Till the law its course had run,
I wish’d to finish the doleful task,
His imprudence had begun.
In the dead of night, ’tis silent,
And all the world are fast asleep,
My trembling heart that knows no comfort,
O’er his grave does often weep,
Each lingering minute that passes,
Brings me nearer to the shore,
When we shall shine in endless glory,
Never to be parted more.
_THE BATTLE OF BOULOGNE._
ON the second day of August, eighteen hundred and one,
We sail’d with Lord Nelson to the port of Boulogne,
For to cut out their shipping, which was all in vain,
For to our misfortune, they were all moored and chained.
Our boats being well mann’d, at eleven at night,
For to cut away their shipping, except they would fight,
But the grape from their batteries so smartly did play,
Nine hundred brave seamen killed and wounded there lay.
We hoisted our colours, and so boldly them did spread
With a British flag flying at our royal mast-head,
For the honour of England, we will always maintain,
While bold British seamen plough the watery main.
Exposed to the fire of the enemy she lay,
While ninety bright pieces of cannon did play,
Where many a brave seaman then lay in his gore,
And the shot from their batteries so smartly did pour.
Our noble commander, with heart full of grief,
Used every endeavour to afford us relief,
No ship could assist us, as well you may know,
In this wounded condition, we were toss’d to and fro.
And you who relieve us the Lord will you bless,
For relieving poor sailors in time of distress,
May the Lord put an end to all cruel wars,
And send peace and contentment to all British tars.
[Illustration]
_VICTORY._
I AM a youthful lady, my troubles they are great,
My tongue is scarcely able my grievance to relate,
Since I have lost my true love that was ever dear to me,
He is gone to plough the Ocean, on board the Victory.
Many a pleasant evening my love and I have met,
He clasp’d me round my slender waist, and gave me kisses sweet,
I gave to him my hand and heart, he vow’d he’d marry me,
But I did not know that my love would go on board the Victory.
My parents could not endure my love, because he was poor,
Therefore he did not presume to come within the door;
But, had he been some noble lord, or man of high degree,
They ne’er had sent the lad I love, on board the Victory.
Thirteen of the pressgang did my love surround,
And one of the cursed gang, he laid bleeding on the ground,
My love was overpowered, but he fought most manfully,
Till he was obliged to yield, and go in the Victory.
Each night, when in my slumbers, I can’t find any rest,
Love for my lad so dearly reigns within my burning breast,
Sometimes I dream I do enjoy my love’s sweet company,
And closely locked in my arms, on board the Victory.
His teeth were white as ivory, his hair in ringlets hung,
His cheeks like blooming roses, all in the month of June,
He is lively, tall and handsome, in every degree,
My heart lies in his bosom, on board the Victory.
Here’s success unto the Victory, and crew of noble fame,
And glory to the noble lord, bold Nelson, was his name,
In the battle of Trafalgar, the Victory cleared the way,
And my love was slain with Nelson upon that very day.
[Illustration]
_THE BATTLE OF NAVARINO._[42]
YOU’VE heard of the Turks and the Greeks,
For all Europe’s been told their bad habits,
How they cut down each other like leeks,
And the Turks slaughter children like rabbits:
But John Bull could bear it no more,
Said he, you death dealers, I’ll stop you,
And if you don’t both soon give o’er,
I swear by St. George, that I’ll whop you.
But the Turks supposed John was in jest,
Or concluded he was but a Green-o,
So they mustered their fleet all the best,
And lay in the Port Navarino.
Death and famine they carried before’t,
And shot the poor Grecians by flocks, Sir,
Said our Tars, “We’ll go join in the sport,
And bring down a few Turkey Cocks, Sir.”
Then our Admiral boldly went in,
Said he, “Mr. Turk, just a word here,”
But they answered him with a foul grin,
And a dirty trick something like murder.
Then Codrington proudly arose,
Said he, “Do they take us for dull logs?
Well, since they’re determined on blows,
Go at ’em, my brave British bull dogs.”
Now the Turk thought our ships were his prey,
And hoped soon to take them in tow-a,
The Asia then led on the way,
And next came the brave ship Genoa!
The Tars then bang’d into the Turks,
As they do to all foes that would wrong us,
The Musselmen cried, “Here’s your works!
Oh Mahomet! The Devil’s upon us.”
The French took a share in the fun,
The Russians proved willing and able,
In three hours the business was done,
And the turkeys dished up for the table.
They were cooked to their heart’s full desire,
’Twas not a mere frizzle or toasting,
But it seems they’d too much of the fire,
And were d----ly burnt in the roasting.
Then success to our lads of true blue,
Be they found upon sea or on shore,
And hurrah for the staunch gallant crew
That manned the brave ship the Genoa!
While we fight in humanity’s cause,
Success all our efforts must crown, Sir,
And the tyrant that treads on her laws,
May the first honest man knock him down, Sir.
[Illustration]
_DUKE WILLIAM’S FROLIC._[43]
DUKE WILLIAM and a Nobleman, heroes of England’s nation,
One morning, nigh to two o’clock, did take their recreation;
Into the country they did go, in sailor’s dress from top to toe,
Said Duke William, now let us go and know, how they use the brave sailors.
Dressed all in their sailor’s trim, they straightway hastened to an inn,
And when they were there, they made all the people stare
at their manly appearance;
The landlady viewed them; by good words they assail her,
Said she, come in, be not afraid, I love the jolly sailor.
Then up the stairs they did go, and in a room did enter,
The duke did say, Landlady, please, bring wine both white and red,
Before the wine was drunk out, a press-gang bold and stout,
In the lower rooms for sailors bold did look and search about.
The landlady said, go upstairs, if sailors you are seeking,
But one’s so fat that I believe, you’ll hardly care to ship him;
Ne’er mind, the Press-gang they did say, and went without delay,
We’re jolly sailors, brothers, from what ship are you, we pray?
We do belong to George, said Will; said they, Where’s your protection?
We’ve none at all, they did reply, don’t cast on us reflection;
The lieutenant then did say, brothers, come without delay,
They shall not make you a prey, our warrant is for sailors.
They led them to their leader then, the captain did them meet,
The duke, he said, Kind gentleman, take great care of your sheep.
With that the Captain he did swear, I am your shepherd, I declare,
We’ll make you know you saucy are, get down among the sailors.
The Nobleman he did go down, but the duke, he refused,
At which the officers did frown, and sadly him abused:
Where must I lie? his highness said, may I not have a feather bed,
You’re fat enough, they all replied, pig in amongst the sailors.
Then straight below the duke did go, unto his comrade, Sir,
How he did swear, to see the fate of many a brisk young blade, Sir;
Below he tore his trousers, and calling for some tailors,
The Captain said, you saucy blade, there’s no one here but sailors.
For your bold airs, the Captain said, you’ll surely get a flog, Sir,
Quick to the gangway him convey, and whip him like a dog, Sir,
Come, strip, he cried; the duke replied, I do not like your law, Sir,
I ne’er will strip for to be whipped, so strip me if you dare, Sir.
Then instantly the boatswain’s mate began for to undress him,
But, presently, he did espy the star upon his breast, sir;
Then on their knees they straight did fall, and for mercy soon did call,
He replied, You’re base villains, thus using us poor sailors.
No wonder that my royal father cannot man his shipping,
’Tis by using them so barbarously, and always them a-whipping,
But for the future, sailors all, shall have good usage, great and small,
To hear the news, together all cried, May God bless Duke William.
He ordered them fresh officers that stood in need of wealth,
And with the crew he left some gold, that they might drink his health,
And when that they did go away, the sailors loud huzzaéd
Crying, blessed be that happy day whereon was born Duke William.
[Illustration]
_THE KING[44] AND THE SAILOR._
IN Portsmouth town, at the sign of the Ship,
A jolly Jack Tar sat drinking his flip,
A messmate was there, who spun him a yarn,
That we’d a new King, he’d soon give him to larn.
Says sailor Ben to sailor Jem,
He’s a King, and a sailor trim,
And ’bout him there’s no palaver or fuss,
Acause, don’t you see, he is one of us.
Says sailor Ben to his messmate Jem,
He knows that I’ve sailed under him,
And when our ship’s paid off at Chatham,
I’ll go and have a good stare at ’em.
Now Ben Block he arriv’d at the Park,
And soon the King and Queen did mark,
Says Ben, says he, I’ll bet you a tanner,
He hails me in a Kinglike manner.
Ye ho! says Ben, and he soon brought to,
And his boatswain’s whistle out he drew,
When the King turn’d round with pride and joy,
Halloo! says he, what ship ahoy?
Now Ben, he answered with a grin,
The Royal Charlotte I’ve sailed in,
She was nam’d arter your royal mother,
Whose great and glorious son you are.
The King the hand of Ben he shook,
And said at that time I was a Mid,
Then Ben lugged out his ’bacca box,
And said to the King, _come take a quid_.
If you won’t, the Queen may like a bit,
Mayhap, like one of the Indian squaws;
So he scrap’d up to her, and offered his box,
No thank ye, says she, _I never chaws_.
The King he gave promotion to Ben
So he thought that he’d steer back again,
But the Queen, he thought he first would tell her
That her husband the king, was a d----d good fellow!
[Illustration]
_JACK BINNACLE AND QUEEN VICTORIA._[45]
JACK BINNACLE just come from sea,
As jolly a tar as ever could be,
Hearing with many a joyous smile,
That Queen Victoria ruled our isle,
Weighed anchor for her palace soon,
With honest ardour just in time,
Declaring loudly, with a grin,
That he’d have a shake at the Royal Fin.
_Chorus._
Gaily push the grog about,
With mirth we’ll make each cabin shout
Let pleasure everywhere be seen,
Long life to Britain’s youthful Queen!
Away Jack Binnacle then sped,
With natty hat upon his head,
With slacks and jacket blue, so trim,
No tar look’d half so well as him.
With shiners too, his purse was stor’d,
Besides, he had some grog aboard;
He reach’d her palace gates with joy,
Where loud he shouted--“Ship, Ahoy!”
The guards, amazed, without delay,
All sought to drive the tar away;
Avast! ye lubbers! then he cries,
And spits his quid into their eyes,
To see her Queenship, I’ve come afar,
I know she’ll not despise a tar;
Because, don’t ye see, don’t make a fuss,
Her uncle Bill was one of us.
In vain they tried to hinder Jack,
He bolted into the palace, smack!
Pass’d all the Yeomen on the stairs,
And on to the state chamber steers.
With wonder each one did him view,
Jack hitch’d his slacks--cried how d’ye do?
All right I hope,--no harm I mean,
I’ve come to see our Royal Queen.
The Courtiers did not like this rout,
And would have put the Jack Tar out,
But our good Queen with friendly glance,
Desir’d our hero to advance,
“What! are YOU Victoria?” Jack then cries,
“Lord love your pretty twinkling eyes,
Exactly like my Poll, that’s flat,
Only as how you’re not so fat.
Avast!--my jaw I must belay,
I hopes you’ll pardon what I say,
I sailed with your good Uncle Bill,
Whose memory I do honour still,
So, as I’ve heard, you’re Captain now,
I thought I’d come and make my bow,
And, as I have got lots of prog,
Would your Queenship take a glass of grog?”
Our lovely Queen seemed to enjoy
The joke, which did her guests annoy;
For Queen Victoria, who can blame,
Loves all her subjects just the same.
Jack full an hour there did stay,
Then cried, as he rose to go away,
Poking a quid between his jaws,
“I s’pose your Majesty never chaws?”
Then off went Jack, to the sign of the Ship,
And ordered a galore of flip,
Declaring loudly he did mean
To swim in grog to the health of the Queen.
Many a tar then joined hand,
Cans were filled, hands grasp’d each hand,
So then they shouted with such glee,
To Queen Victoria--three times three.
[Illustration]
_SWEET WILLIAM._
AS I was a walking along the sea shore,
Where the breezes blow cool and the billows do roar,
A ship I espied on the proud swelling main,
That brought me my true love to England again.
The boat came on shore and my true love did land,
With his tarpawling jacket, and bundle in hand;
Saying presents I’ve brought you from East and from West,
Because you’re the maiden that I love the best.
I have shawls and rich laces, and fine golden rings,
And rubies and pearls, and fifty fine things;
For since you’ve proved loyal and constant to me,
I have come back to England to marry with thee.
Oh, then round her fair neck his arms he did throw,
And glad tears of joy from her eyelids did flow,
Saying William, dear William, thou’rt welcome to me,
For many long months have I watchéd for thee.
O, come my dear Sailor, and let us begone,
My father and mother are waiting at home,
To see my dear sailor how glad they will be,
For they prayed for your safety while you were at sea.
Then come, my dear girl, to the Church let’s away,
And we shall be wedded without more delay,
I’ve riches in store, love, when thou art my wife,
To make us contented and happy for life.
_THE POOR SMUGGLER’S BOY._
ONE cloudy morning, as I abroad did steer,
By the wide rolling ocean that runs swift and clear,
I heard a poor creature, that in sorrow did weep,
Saying, O, my poor father is lost in the deep.
My father and mother once happy did dwell,
In a neat little cottage they rearéd me well;
Poor father did venture all on the salt sea,
For a keg of good brandy, for the land of the free.
For Holland we steer’d while the thunder did roar,
And the lightning flash’d vivid when far, far, from shore,
Our ship, mast, and rigging, were blown to the wave,
And found, with poor father, a watery grave.
I jump’d over board in the troubléd main,
To save my poor father--but all was in vain,
I clasp’d his cold clay, for quite lifeless was he,
Then forc’d for to leave him, sink down in the sea.
I clung to a plank, and so gained the shore,
With sad news for mother, and father no more,
For mother, with grief broken hearted did die,
And I was left to wander--so pity poor I.
A lady of fortune, she heard him complain,
And shelteréd him from the wind and the rain,
She said, I’ve employment,--no parents have I,
I will think of an orphan, till the day that I die.
He well did his duty, and gained a good name,
Till the lady she died, and he master became,
She left him 2000 bright pounds, and some land,
So, if you’re ever so poor, you may live to be grand.
[Illustration]
_THE SMUGGLER’S BRIDE._
ATTENTION give and a tale I’ll tell,
Of a damsel fair that in Kent did dwell,
On the Kentish coast, when the tempest rolled,
She fell deep in love with a smuggler bold.
Upon her pillow she could not sleep,
When her valiant smuggler was on the deep,
While the winds did whistle she did complain,
For her smuggler ploughing the raging main.
When Will arrived on his native coast,
He would fly to her that he valued most,
He would fly to Nancy, his lover true,
And forget all hardships he’d lately been through.
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.
[Illustration]
_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.
[Illustration]
_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.