Chapter I: AM a youthful lady, my troubles they are great, (1)

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.

_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.

_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.

_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!

_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.

_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.

_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.

_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]

A SUBJECT I want for a song, do you see,
So Her Majesty, look you, my subject shall be;
Nay there I am wrong, so my Muse here avers,
_My_ “subject” she can’t be, because I am _hers_!
Forgive me, I beg, if with words I do play,
And hear a plain man in his own queer plain way,
And still to my errors in mercy pray lean,
While the wedding I sing of our glorious Queen!

_Chorus._

Our cups to the dregs in a health let us drain,
And with them a long and a prosperous reign,
Like good loyal subjects in loud chorus sing,
Victoria’s wedding with Albert her King.

Many suitors the Queen’s had of class, clime, and creed,
But each failed to make an impression, indeed;
For, for Albert of Coburg, the rest off she packs,
Thus “giving the _bag_” each, and keeping “the Saxe!”
A fortunate fellow he is, all must say,
And right well his _cards_ he has managed to play,
The _game_ he has won, and no wonder, I ween,
When he played “Speculation,” and turn’d up _the Queen_.

A hundred thousand a year he may get,
For taking the Queen, which is something to wit;
_I_ myself had “proposed” had I known it, that’s flat,
For I’d willingly take her for much less than that.
Even yet, if her Majesty _should_ chance to scoff
At the bargain she’s made, and the matter break off,
I’ll instantly seek her, and lay my mind down,
And offer to take her, at just--_half a crown_!

Since the Queen did herself for a husband “propose,”
The ladies will all do the same I suppose;
Their days of subserviency now will be past,
For all will speak _first_, as they always did _last_!
Since the Queen has no equal, “obey,” none she need,
So, of course, at the Altar, from such vow she’s freed;
And the women will all follow suit, so they say--
“Love, honour,” they’ll promise, but never “obey.”

Those will now wed, who ne’er wedded before,
Those who always wedded, will now wed the more;
Clerks will no time have, to lunch, dine, or sup,
And parsons, just now will begin to _look up_!
To churches, indeed, this will be a God-send,
Goldsmiths be selling off _rings without end_!
For now you’ll not find from Castle to Cot,
A _single_ man living, who _married_ is not.

But hence with all quibbling, for now I have done,
Though all I have said has been purely in fun;
May the Queen and the King shine like Venus and Mars,
And Heaven _preserve_ them without any _jars_!
Like Danaë of old may we see it plain,
Till time is no more, these bright _sovereigns rain_:[51]
May pleasure and joy through their lives know no bounds,
So let’s give them a _toast_, and make it _three rounds_.

_A NEW SONG ON THE BIRTH OF THE PRINCE OF WALES._[52]

THERE’S a pretty fuss and bother both in country and in town,
Since we have got a present, and an heir unto the Crown,
A little Prince of Wales so charming and so sly,
And the ladies shout with wonder, What a pretty little boy!

He must have a little musket, a trumpet and a kite,
A little penny rattle, and silver sword so bright,
A little cap and feather with scarlet coat so smart,
And a pretty little hobby horse to ride about the park.

Prince Albert he will often take the young Prince on his lap,
And fondle him so lovingly while he stirs about the pap,
He will pin on his flannel before he takes his nap,
Then dress him out so stylish with his little clouts and cap.

He must have a dandy suit to strut about the town,
John Bull must rake together six or seven thousand pound,
You’d laugh to see his daddy, at night he homewards runs,
With some peppermint or lollipops, sweet cakes and sugar plums.

He will want a little fiddle, and a little German flute,
A little pair of stockings and a pretty pair of boots,
With a handsome pair of spurs, and a golden headed cane,
And a stick of barley sugar, as long as Drury Lane.

An old maid ran through the palace, which did the nobs surprize,
Bawling out, he’s got his daddy’s mouth, his mammy’s nose and eyes,
He will be as like his daddy as a frigate to a ship,
If he’d only got mustachios upon his upper lip.

Now to get these little niceties the taxes must be rose,
For the little Prince of Wales wants so many suits of clothes,
So they must tax the frying pan, the windows and the doors,
The bedsteads and the tables, kitchen pokers, and the floors.

_THE QUEEN AND THE COAL EXCHANGE._

YOU lads and you lasses so gay,
Now keep yourselves tidy and sober,
And never forget the grand day,
The thirtieth day of October.[53]
When the QUEEN and Prince ALBERT so grand,
With their dear little sons and their daughter,
Will all get in a boat at Whitehall,
And go down to the city by water,
To open the New Coal Exchange.

To tell you about the concern,
It is Queen VICTORIA’S desire then,
Her pocket is got very low,
Through her journey to Scotland and Ireland.[54]
To see them along go so gay,
Throw open your doors and your windows,
A coal shed they’ve took, so they say,
To retail Newcastles and cinders,
A coal porter Albert will be.

Such a sight sure there has not been seen,
Believe me my friends there has never,
As there is to see England’s Queen,
In a collier so gay on the river.
Not a gun must be fired that day,
Not a barge nor a boat must be stopping,
But they must be all cleared away,
Three miles and a half below Wapping.
Won’t that be a glorious sight!

The Dukes, Lords and Ladies so gay,
Will whistle and sing when they’ve started,
And when they arrive near the key,
They will anchor near Billingsgate Market.
And then all on shore they will go,
To be gazed at by wise folk and simple,
Where they’ll have a good blow out of crabs,
Of oysters, red herrings and winkles.
Move on and get out of the way.

To receive them will be the Lord Mayor,
And his lady, as sweet as a myrtle,
Lots of Aldermen too will be there,
To treat her with salmon and turtle.
At the Custom House Pier they will stand,
And the citizens gay will receive her,
And make ALBERT, as we understand
An out and out stunning coalheaver,
Such wonders we never did see.

To the brim they will fill up a sack,
And drink a good health to the nation,
Then clap it on Prince ALBERT’S back,
What a change it will be in his station.
There will be dukes and earls too,
Coal merchants, silk weavers and wasters,
When AL will put on his smock frock,
Knee breeches, white stockings and gaiters,
A coal porter ALBERT will be.

Let us hope they will have a good trade,
And be able to flare up like flinders,
There’s many a fortune been made
By wetting the coals and the cinders.
Prince ALBERT will not be compelled
To carry the sacks, but he’d rather,
And the young PRINCE OF WALES will be there,
For to measure the coals for his father.
Seven pounds for a penny, good weight.

So now to conclude, my good friends,
If it won’t be a sight, it’s a pity,
The QUEEN and her husband so fine,
And her children, all down in the City.
The colliers drest all in their best,
At the Custom House wait to receive her,
Here’s a health to Victoria so grand,
And Prince ALBERT the slashing coalheaver,
A dealer in Newcastle coals.

_CRYSTAL PALACE._

BRITANNIA’S sons an attentive ear
One moment lend to me,
Whether tillers of our fruitful soil,
Or lords of high degree.
Mechanic too, and artizan,
Old England’s pride and boast,
Whose wondrous skill has spread around,
Far, far from Britain’s coast.

_Chorus._

For the World’s great Exhibition,
Let’s shout with loud huzza,
All nations never can forget,
The glorious first of May.

From every quarter of the Globe,
They come across the sea,
And to the Chrystal Palace
The wonders for to see;
Raised by the handiwork of men
Born on British ground,
A challenge to the Universe
It’s equal to be found.

Each friendly nation in the world,
Have their assistance lent,
And to this Exhibition
Have their productions sent.
And with honest zeal and ardour,
With pleasure do repair,
With hands outstretch’d, and gait erect,
To the World’s Great National Fair.

The Sons of England and France
And America likewise,
With other nations to contend,
To bear away the prize.
With pride depicted in their eyes,
View the offspring of their hand,
O, surely England’s greatest wealth,
Is an honest working man.

It is a glorious sight to see
So many thousands meet,
Not heeding creed or country,
Each other friendly greet.
Like children of one mighty sire,
May that sacred tie ne’er cease,
May the blood stain’d sword of War give way
To the Olive branch of Peace.

But hark! the trumpets flourish,
Victoria does approach,
That she may long be spared to us
Shall be our reigning toast.
I trust each heart, it will respond,
To what I now propose--
Good will and plenty to her friends,
And confusion to her foes.

Great praise is due to Albert,
For the good that he has done,
May others follow in his steps
The work he has begun;
Then let us all, with one accord,
His name give with three cheers,
Shout huzza for the Chrystal Palace,
And the World’s great National Fair!!

_QUEEN’S VISIT TO FRANCE._[55]

YOU bonny pretty English Girls--
Your Mammas I am going to harrass,
What a lark I lately have had,
Among the young bucks of Paris.
A son and daughter I shall have,
As fine as ever were seen-y,
The boy shall Napoleon be called,
And the little girl nam’d Eugenie.

_Chorus._

I’ve been to France to learn to dance,
With Frenchmen we were mingling,
Now Vic and Albert have returned
Once more to bonny England.

From Osborne boldly we set sail,
Our hearts did beat in motion,
The wind it blew a pleasant gale,
And glorious looked the ocean.
And when we landed at Boulogne,
Napoleon loud did roar, there,
Three times he kiss’d me on the cheek,
Then sang “God bless Victoria.”

The guns did fire, the bells did ring,
The cannon balls did rattle,
Young men and maids did sweetly sing,
Then the soldiers had a battle.
The snips and snobs, so help my bobs,
Were mounted on French ponies,
Me and Albert had a fracasee,
Then a stumping Macaroni.

There were blazing lights all through the night,
The doors broke off their hinges,
When all the pretty maiden’s knees
Were covered over with fringes.
The men had all got hairy lips,
Then whistled sweet marblue, Sirs,
They cheered me gaily all the way,
Then halloed Parley Vous, Sirs.

The Frenchmen used me very well,
And shewed me sights and wonders
My Albert, he was frightened, and,
Eugenie’s bed crept under;
I thought with her he was in love,
I thought he did adore her,
I thought that he had run away,
And left his own Victoria.

Well, now we’ve had a grand flare up,
The like was seen not never,
The kind French folk did laugh and joke,
With “Anglais for ever.”
The sights I’ve seen, believe your Queen,
So sweetly did delight her,
She went to France to learn to dance,
And Bull must pay the piper.

_THE QUEEN’S DREAM._

GOOD people give attention, and listen for a while,
To an interesting ditty, which cannot fail to make you smile,
So all draw near, and lend an ear, while I relate a theme,
Concerning of Victoria, a strange and funny dream.

_Chorus._

So these are dreams and visions
Of old England’s blooming Queen.

At the Isle of Wight, the other night, as Vic lay in her bed,
Strange visions did to her appear, and dreams came in her head;
She drew Prince Albert by the nose, and gave a dreadful scream,
Oh, dear, she said, I’m filled with dread, I’d such a dreadful dream.

Says Albert, Vic, what are you at? you’ve made my nose quite sore,
I’m in a mind, for half a pin, to kick you on the floor,
Such dreams for me will never do, you pepper’d me with blows.
I never knew a wife to dream, and pull her husband’s nose.

O, don’t be vex’d, the Queen replied, you know I love you well,
So listen awhile dear Albert, and my dreams to you I’ll tell:
Last night, she said, I had a dream, as soon as I lay down,
I thought Napoleon had come o’er, to steal away my crown.

The vision of Napoleon appeared at my bed side,
He said that by my subjects he had been greatly belied,
But now, said he, I’ll be revenged, I’ll quickly make you rue,
And I’ll take away the laurels that were won at Waterloo.

When the vision of Napoleon, from my view did disappear,
To escape the French, I thought that we came to lodge here,
I thought that we were so held down, by cursed poverty,
That I was forc’d to labour hard in a cotton factory.

Prince Albert, he stood quite amazed, and listened to the Queen,
And said, dear Vic, I little thought that you had such a dream,
Cheer up your heart, don’t look so sad, you need not be afraid,
For I’m sure the French will ne’er attempt, Old England to invade.

The Queen to Albert then replied, I have not told you all,
For I dream’t that Lord John Russell, altho’ but very small,
Just like a Briton bold, then so nobly did advance,
And with his fist, knocked out the eye, of the Emperor of France.