Bound Away - Traditional Seafaring Songs from Maine

Bound Away - Traditional Seafaring Songs from Maine 2015

These songs are part of a rich heritage of singing and storytelling that came with immigrants to Maine from Britain, Scotland, and Ireland. Some retain the original lyrics and melodies. Others have been changed as memory and environment have dictated. These songs give us a window into history, romance, anxiety, and humor shared by our ancestors at work and leisure

We found these songs in various manuscript and audio archives of songs collected from traditional singers in Maine from 1920 through 1943.

The sound samples are from the most representative section of a track. The times listed are the total track time, not the length of the sample! The samples range from one to two minutes in length.

Mary L. McKay [3:50]
Traditional

NOTES

Fred Gosbee - vocal, 12-string guitar, bass
Julia Lane - vocal, Celtic harp

Oh, come all you hardy haddockers, who winter fishing go,
And brave the seas upon the banks in story winds and snow,
And ye who love hard driving, come listen to my lay
Of the run we made from Portland in the Mary L. McKay.

We hung the muslin on her, as the wind began to hum,
Twenty hardy Nova Scotiamen chock full of Portland rum,
Mainsail, foresail, jib and jumbo on that wild December day,
As we passed Cape Elizabeth and slugged for Fundy Bay.

  Storm along! Drive along! Punch her through the rips,
  Don't heed those boarding combers as the solid green she ships
  'T would fill your hearts with terror, boys, and wish you were away
  At home in bed and not aboard the Mary L. McKay

We slammed her by Monhegan as the gale began to scream,
Our vessel took to dancing in a way that was no dream.
A howler o'er the topsail we steered her East away;
Oh, she was a hound for running was the Mary L. McKay.

When we slammed her by Matinicus the skipper hauled the log—
"Sixteen knots, Lord Harry! Ain't she just the gal to jog?"
The half-canned helmsman shouted as he swung her on her way,
"Just watch me tear the mainsail off the Mary L. McKay."

The rum was passing merrily and the gang was feeling grand,
Long necks dancing in our wake from where we left the land.
Our skipper he kept sober for he knew how things would lay,
And he made us furl the mainsail on the Mary L. McKay.

Under foresail and her jumbo we tore wildly through the night,
The foaming, surging whitecaps in the moonshine made a sight,
And in this wild inferno, boys, we soon had hell to pay,
We didn't care a hoot aboard the Mary L. McKay.

We lashed our helmsman to the box as we steered through the gloom,
A big sea hove his dory mate right over the main boom;
It tore the oilpants off his legs and you could hear him say,
"There's a power of water flying o'er the Mary L. McKay."

Our skipper didn't care to make his wife a widow yet,
He swung her off to Yarmouth Cape with just her foresail set,
We passed Forchu next morning and shot in at break of day,
And soon in sheltered harbour lay the Mary L. McKay.

From Portland, Maine, to Yarmouth Sound, two twenty miles we ran,
In eighteen hours, my bully boys, now beat that if you can.
The crew said it was seamanship, the skipper he kept dumb
But the force that drove our vessel was the power of Portland rum.

The Banks of Newfoundland [4:22]
Traditional

NOTES

Fred Gosbee - lvocal, 12-string guitar

You may all bless your happy lots who safely dwell on shore
You do not know the howling winds that round poor seamen roar
You do not know the hardship great that we were forced to stand
For fourteen days and fourteen nights on the banks of Newfoundland

Our captain, mate, and sailors ten made up our good ship's crew
Ten passengers we had on board made up just twenty-two
Some had wives and families on their dear native strand
Intending soon to come across the banks of Newfoundland

Our ship she sailed through frost and snow from the day we left Quebec
And if we had not walked about we'd have frozen to the deck
But being as true born sailor man as ever had command
Our captain doubled our grog each day on the banks of Newfoundland

Our ship had never crossed before the stormy western sea
She was well rigged and fitted out before she sailed away
But built of green unseasoned wood she little could withstand
The hurricane that met us on the banks of Newfoundland

The tempest blew from sunset to the cold and wintry dawn
She fell away to leeward for two of her masts were gone
Our captain said,"My brave boys we must some invention plan
To hoist a signal of distress on the banks of Newfoundland

If you had seen our doleful state your hearts would be oppressed
It blew a most tremendous gale with the wind from the south west
Some of our men jumped overboard saying they would swim to land
But, alas, it was five hundred miles from the Banks of Newfoundland

Well we fasted thirteen days and nights, our provisions giving out
The morning of the fourteenth day we cast the lots about
The lot fell on the captain's son, but hoping relief at hand
We spared him another day on the banks of Newfoundland

On the morning of the fifteenth day we told him to prepare
We gave to him another hour to offer up a prayer
Then Providence proved kind to us, kept blood from every hand
For an English vessel hove in view on the banks of Newfoundland

When we were taken off that wreck we were more like ghosts than men
They fed us and they clothed us, too, and brought us back again
But five of our brave sailors boys ne're saw their native land
And our captain lost both feet by frost on the banks of Newfoundland

Of all that gallant company that was our good ship's crew
There's only five to tell the tale, of passengers but two
For the others friends may shed salt tears all on their native strand
But mountainous waves roll o're their graves on the Banks of Newfoundland

The Dark Eyed Sailor [2:10]
Traditional

Julia Lane - vocal, Celtic harp
Fred Gosbee - low F whistle

This romantic "broken token" song is a popular one in the sea music tradition being a variant of Phoebe and her Dark-eyed Sailor with vesrions dating back to the 17th century. Collectors ranging through Maine documented variants both along the coast and in the lumberwoods (Fanny Eckstorm, Phillips Barry, Helen Flanders, Eloise Linscott, Horace Beck, Carrie Grover) and it appears throughout the traditional ballad diaspora. Interestingly in Maine, the traditional gift given by a sailor to his sweetheart was not a ring, but a washtub so she could take in laundry and earn some money while he was away! Julia heard the song as a child (circa 1960) from a recording by the Norman Luboff Choir (1956) and sang the entire song to her kindergarten class. She enjoyed the story aspect of the song and it kindled her interest in ballads which grew as she began seeking variants and historic connections.

'T was once a maiden young and fair
Went walking out for to take the air
She met a sailor all along her way
And I paid attention, I paid attention
To hear what they might say

He said "Fair maid why roam alone?
For the day's far spent and the night's coming on
She said while tears rom her eyes did flow
"It's my dark-eyed sailor, my dark-eyed sailor
Has proved my overflow"

It's been three long years since he left this land
A new gold ring he took off his hand
He broke a token; gave one half to me
Now the other half's lying, the other half's lying
At the bottom of the sea

He said "Fair maid, drive him off your mind
For as good a sailor as him you'll find "
She said "Be gone you! with your words so fine
It's my Dark-eyed sailor, my Dark-eyed sailor
Still plays this heart of mine"

'T was then he did the token show
She seemed distracted 'twixt joy and woe
She said "You're welcome in my arms to hold
My dark-eyed sailor, my dark-eyed sailor
So handsome and so bold"

Now in a house by the riverside
In peace and harmony they now reside
So girls prove faithful while your lover's away
Oft a cloudy morning, a cloudy morning
Brings forth a pleasant day.

The Boxer and the Enterprise [3:28]
Traditional

Fred Gosbee - vocals, 12-string guitar

During the war of 1812, the waters off the coast of Maine were particularly active due to the proximity with English Loyalist terrtory and the business of smuggling and impressment of local men. The USS Enterprise, under Captain William Burrows, was commissioned to deal with the harassment of the British. On Saturday, Sept 4, 1813 there came a report of a brig firing upon a ship entering the Kennebec so the Enterprise left Portland to investigate. The next day, he found the brig sailing out of Pemaquid Harbor where, according to local lore, the British seaman had been taking advantage of local resources. HMS Boxer, under the command of 29 year old Samuel Blyth, was challenged to battle just off Monhegan Island. It being a very clear day, the engagement was witnessed by onlookers from Boothbay to Matinicus 10 miles away.

Both captains were under thirty years old, and had their first command. Although the Enterprise clearly had the advantage, the Boxer was unable to strike her colors and surrender as her confident captain had nailed them to the mast. The British suffered 21 casualties to the American's 12. Both captains were killed in the forty-five minute engagement and are buried side by side in Portland. The youth of the fallen commanders caught the public imagination and thousands of people witnessed the elaborate double funeral. Many songs were written about the battle but none reference the burial place of the captains. Fred edited this version which was printed in The Bird of Boston in 1813. There was no tune specified so he set it to Portsmouth, a popular tune of the times.

Come all ye sons of Freedom. Come, listen unto me,
I 'll tell of an engagement which happened on the sea.
Between the Enterprise and Boxer, two noble ships of fame,
The Enterprise, though she is small, soon made the Boxer tame.

We sailed out of Portland harbor in a sweet and pleasant gale,
The saucy Boxer hovering round, she proudly spread her sail.
It being about meridian when we to them drew near.
We hoisted Yankee colors, and gave to them three cheers.

It was on the fifth of September, it being a glorious day,
The Enterprise and Boxer, they had their bloody fray.
The Enterprise soon box'd her and quickly made them see
That we were Yankee heroes Just from Americay

When we came on board the Boxer ‘t would grieve your hearts full sore
To see all those proud Englishmen lying in their gore
And there upon the quarterdeck where officers do tread
Their young captain, Samuel Blyth, was found among the dead.

So now we've gain'd the victory, my Yankee hearts of steel
But heavy was the price we paid, to force our foes to yield.
For in the fray was Burgess hit he got his mortal blow.
Alas, our young commander shall see Portland town no more.

In a Portland cemetery those two young heroes lie,
God bless Lieutenant Burrows, And Captain Blyth likewise
Far from the roaring din of battle, the province of the brave,
They slumber for eternity in the silence of their grave.
They slumber for eternity in the silence of their grave.

The Irish Rover [3:27]
Traditional

Fred Gosbee - vocals, 12-string guitar, whistle
Julia Lane - vocals, Celtic harp

This song was collected from David Kane, Searsport, Maine, in October, 1941, for the Helen Hartness Flanders Collection in Middlebury VT.

Roud Folk Song Index #4379 cites this as the earliest example of this comic ditty, though we have found reference to J. M. Crofts, a Dublin songwriter circa 1911. Probably written for the music halls of the time, it has been embraced by numerous groups playing Irish music as a "sea shanty". All the verses here are via David Kane except verse three which is standard in modern versions and worth repeating.

Arranged by Fred Gosbee 2015

In the year of our Lord fourteen hundred sixty six,
We set sail from the cove of Cork;
We were bound far away with a cargo of bricks,
For the new city hall in New York.
We'd a beautiful craft, she was rigged fore and aft,
And oh dear how the trade winds they drove her;
She could stand fearful blasts, she had seventeen masts
And we called her the Irish Rover .

There was Murphy and Flynn, and McCarthy and Gwinn
There was O'Malley, O'Brien and Shay
And McColley and McCoy and McKusker and Quinn
O'Connell, McGuinness, O'Day
There was Leary and Frye, Joyce, Mulcahey and I
McClough and O'Hara and Grover
And Fitzsimmons and Sly, both from near Athenry
In the crew of the Irish Rover .

There was Old Mickey Coutts who played hard on his flute
When the ladies lined up for a set
He was tooting with skill every sparkling quadrille
Till the dancers were all soaked with sweat
With his sparse witty talk he was cock of the walk
And he rolled the dames under and over
You could tell at a glance when he took up his stance
That he sailed on the Irish Rover

We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags,
We had two million boxes of stones;
We had three million sides of old blind horses' hides,
And four million boxes of bones.
We had five million hogs and six million dogs,
We had seven million tons of clover
And eight million bales of white billy goat tails,
In the freight of the Irish Rover .

So we sailed seven years when the measles broke out,
The ship lost her way in a fog;
The whole of the crew was reduced down to two,
Just myself and the captain's old dog.
Then we struck Plymouth rock with a terrible shock!
And then she rolled right over
She turned three times around, and we all got drowned
In the wreck of the Irish Rover

The Green Bed [3:25]]
Traditional

Julia lane - vocal, Celtic harp
Fred Gosbee - vocal, 12-string guitar

Many versions of this song have been found in Maine's tradition and Julia has borrowed from several to complete the story. They all include elements of both the Saucy Sailor, where the seaman tests his sweetheart's loyalty by feigning poverty and the Wild Rover, where the landlady is duped and asks forgiveness only to be mocked by the patron.

Some details of note : In 1735 Massachusetts (aka Maine) the money system was changed making the old money less valuable. Thus the landlady hedges her bets by demanding some of each. The "green bed" seems to signify a place of privilege for affluent travellers at the inn which may include some kind of female entertainment, perhaps the landlord's daughter. Older traditions show the "green bed" as a springtime fertility ritual. The Folklore of Jersey describes a girl selected from the maidens of the village who was made to lie on a bed of greens and receive gifts from suitors and even the biblical Song of Solomon describes the newlywed's bed as verdant or green.

It is of a young sea captain who lately came ashore
He went up to an alehouse where he had been before
"You are welcome home, young Johnny, you are welcome home from sea
Last night my daughter Polly was dreaming of thee

"What luck had you, young Johnny? "Oh very poor !" said he
"We lost our ship and cargo all on the raging sea
"Across the wide Atlantic my ship and cargo crossed;
All on the wide Atlantic my ship and cargo lost."

"But bring down pretty Polly and set her on my knee!
Bring down pretty Polly and married we will be"
" My daughter she is absent, oh she has gone away
And if she were at home John, she would not let you stay"

And when young John heard this, he hung down his head
He called for a candle to light him to bed
"The beds are all full John, this fortnight or more,
And you are not welcome for you are very poor"

He looked upon the landlord; he looked upon them all
And then for his reckoning so loudly he did call *
"Twenty shillings of the new, John, and thirty of the old"
Young John he pulled out both hands full of gold.

Then in came pretty Polly all with a smiling face
She gave him three kisses and then a kind embrace
"You are welcome, young Johnny, you are welcome home from sea!
The green bed is waiting for you young Johnny"

"I care not for your green bed; I would rather lie in the street.
When you thought I had no money, my lodgings I might seek
Now I've money in both pockets I will make the taverns whirl
With a bottle of good brandy and on each knee a girl!"

Now all of you young sailors, a warning take by me
Be careful of your money when you return from sea
Be careful of your money and lay it up in store
For if not they surely will drive you from their door.

If I Were a Blackbird [2:26]
Traditional

Fred Gosbee - vocal, 12-string guitar
Julia Lane - vocal, Celtic harp

From Inside Bristol pamphlet produced by the students of Bristol High School 1953 page 8 The Love Story

This story stars in Ireland with a romance between a beautiful aristocratic maiden and her poor lover. Many were the clandestine meetings they had.Finally the mother discovered the lovers' secret. Her wrath was without bounds. She immediately wrote her sister who had settled in the New Land far away in a little village called Bristol.

"Dear Sister", she wrote, "Janette has got out of hand. She swears eternal love for a poor labourer. Of course I cannot tolerate such actions. I am sending her to you. Time will erase her infatuation, possibly she may meet some worthy young man over there." In vain did the boy call to see his sweetheart; her mother kept her locked in her room and tears were of no avail against her stubborn heart. When the next boat for America sailed, the girl was on it, tearfully waving to her lover on the shore.

But the boy was not to be denied. In spite of his poor station, he determined to reach his loved one.The next boat was a cattle boat. he induced the captain to take him on as an extra hand and he worked his way to Philadelphia. From there, through many difficulties and by diverse means he journeyed north until one warm August evening he stod outside the wall of Mrs. North's garden located at the head of John's River.On the other side he could hear a beloved voice speaking in sorrowful tones. Over the wall he scaled and dropped on the other side before his lady.

This is the love story of Alexander Fossett and his Irish bride.They were among the first settlers of Bristol. Their descendants still live at Bristol and play an important part in town affairs.

I am a young sailor, my story is sad
Though once I was carefree and a brave sailor lad
I courted a lassie by night and by day
Ah but now she has left me and sailed far away

Chorus If I was a blackbird, could whistle and sing
I'd follow the vessel my true love sails in
And in the top rigging I'd there build my nest
and sing a sweet song to the one I love best

Chorus

I crossed o'er the ocean, my fortune to seek
Though I missed her caress and her kiss on my cheek.
I returned and I told her my love was still warm
But she tearfully told me I would soon be forlorn

Chorus

I offered to take her to Donnybrook Fair
And to buy her fine ribbons to tie up her hair
I offered to marry and to stay by her side
But she says in the morning she sails with the tide

Chorus

If I was a scholar and could handle the pen
One secret love letter to my true love I'd send
And I'd tell of my sorrow, my grief and my pain
Since she's gone and left me in yon foreign land

Chorus

Her parents they chide me and will not agree
Saying me and my true love never married should be
Ah but let them deprive me, let them do as they will
While there's breath on my body she's the one that I love still

The Schooner Fred Dunbar [3:28]
Amos Hanson

Julia Lane - vocal, Celtic harp
Fred Gosbee - cello
Doreen Conboy - lead cello

Amos Hanson (b. 1840) was a vernacular fisherman songwriter from Orland, ME. His songs are generally very local and from his own experience incorporating names and adventures of the people around him. They echo the traditions of both the northern logging camps and the bothy ballads of the migrant farm workers in Scotland and Ireland celebrating or lampooning one's co-workers.

This song was collected by Phillips Barry from the singing of Mrs. Emory Howard and her son Julia, North Bluehill, ME in 1932 and printed in the Bulletin of the Folk-Song Society of the Northeast, 1933

You darling girls of Bagaduce who live along the shore
'Tis little do you think or know what sailors do endure
Or if you did, you would treat them with more respect than before
You never would go with a landloper while sailors are on shore

Oh those Penobscot cowboys will tell you girls fine tales
Of the hardships they endure while they are in the cornfields
While they feed their hens and punch their pigs and make their mothers roar
While we, like jovial-hearted boys, go to the Bay Chaleur

You darling girls of Bagaduce perhaps you'd like to know
The names of all our sailors before we start to go
Their names and dispositions, I'll endeavor to explain
Before we set our canvas to plough the raging main

The first was Hiram Wardwell who runs the Rory O'More
The next was Captain Perkins who roams the golden shore
They're very much respected by all both fore and aft
Two better men cannot be found on an Androscoggin raft

There was little Herman, Leroy and Bill, and Oliver Quinn and Steel
And Amos H. the author, who an entry sheep did steal
The next was little Owen, who loves the girls so well
The last was young Horatio - we called him the Admiral

On board of the Schooner Fred Dunbar, well found in fishing gear
We crowded on our canvas, for Green's Landing we did steer
When we arrived at anchor, the sun was very low
'Twas there we shipped young Stinson and Captain Mood Thurlow

When we arrived at Port McGrave, we hauled in for our salt
We took our little fiddle to have a little waltz
There was twelve of us when we started, our songs through the woods did roar
When we arrived, I was surprised, I could not count but four

The first day of September, broad off Cape Mardean
We struck a squall from our south-southeast which broke our boom in two
So gallantly she weathered it and it was fine to see
She walked to the windward with mainsail down, bound out to Margaree

The last day of September will be remembered well
And how poor sailors fared that night, no tongue can ever tell
The wind blew high, the seas grew rough, and in torrents fell the rain
I never saw such a night before and hope I shan't again

You darling girls of Bagaduce, the time is drawing nigh
When soon you'll see the Stars and Stripes from the Fred's main topmast fly
Get ready, gallant lasses, put on your other gowns
For soon you'll see the Fred Dunbar come sailing up to town

O now this voyage is ended and we've arrived on shore
With our pockets full of greenbacks we have earned to the Bay Chaleur
So merrily we'll dance and sing, as we have done before,
And when our money is all gone, we'll plough the bay some more.

Mary's Dream [3:58]]
Traditional

Julia Lane - vocal, Celtic harp
Fred Gosbee - Irish flute, strings

Original- John Lowe, Scotland 1772
Song appears in "Heritage of Song" a collection of family songs by Carrie Grover (1878-1959). Gorham Maine Pub. by Norwood Editions, 1973
The song also appears in Folklore of Maine by Horace Beck. Lippincott, 1957 p.102-3 contributed by Mrs Nina Starboard

This version adapted by Julia Lane, Round Pond. ME 2010

This story appears in the History of Dresden, Maine by Charles Edwin Allen (p858) Captain Samuel Lilly had the finest house in North Woolwich. He had built it for his wife who was an extremely aristocratic. English woman. They adopted Mary Ann Goss. who had come from England. when her parents moved on to NewYork.They raised the child in style and she was known as the most beautiful girl in all the countryside.

When she came of age, she became engaged to Captain James Henry Perkins who was said to be remarkably handsome and very well liked.Captain Perkins commanded the brig, Planter, built in 1826. On a voyage to the West Indies, the crew were all taken ill with "ship fever". As there was no medicine chest onboard, the entire company succumbed including Captain Perkins. In his delerium, he sprang overboard and drowned. The one man who was left to tell the tale ran the ship on the Florida Keys and abandoned her. She was later brought back by Redford Tallman of Dresden.

Meanwhile, Mary Ann Goss had a peculiar dream. In it, she saw James' vessel sail up the Kennebec and stop opposite their house. A plank was put out and as she saw him walk ashore, she went to meet him. Before she could meet him, he disappeared saying "prepare to follow me". She afterwards became very melancholy and her friends tried without success to divert her. Less than a year after her strange dream, she was preparing for an outing when she fell lifeless to the floor. She was deeply mourned by her many friends who remarked that she was still beautiful even in death.

The moon had climb'd the highest hill
Which rises o'er the river deep,
And from the eastern summit shed
Her silver light on field and tree;
When Mary laid her down to sleep,
Her thoughts on Jamie far at sea;
When soft and low, a voice she heard,
Saying, Mary weep no more for me!

Mary weep no more for me (4 times)

She from her pillow gently raised
Her head, to ask who there might be,
And saw young Jamie shivering stand,
With visage pale, and hollow e'e.
O Mary dear, cold is my clay;
It lies beneath a stormy sea.
Far, far from thee, I sleep in death,
So, Mary weep no more for me!

Mary weep no more for me (4 times)

Three stormy nights and stormy days,
We toss'd upon the raging main;
And long we strove our ship to save,
But all our striving was in vain.
Even when horror chill'd my blood,
My heart was filled with love for thee
The storm is past, and I at rest;
So, Mary, weep no more for me!

Mary weep no more for me (4 times)

O, maiden dear, thyself prepare;
We soon shall meet upon that shore
Where love is free from doubt and care,
And thou and I shall part no more!

Mary weep no more for me (4 times)

Loud crow'd the cock, the shadow fled;
No more of Jamie could she see:
But soft the passing spirit said:
Sweet Mary, weep no more for me!

Mary weep no more for me (4 times)

The Capture of the Crown [3:59]
Traditional

Fred Gosbee - vocals

From The Life of Commodore Samuel Tucker, by John H. Sheppard (Boston, 1868)

"A song was written by a citizen of Bristol on the capture of the Crown by Tucker. The following is a copy, and is here introduced, more as a specimen of the spirit of the times, than of the beauty of the poetry, although it may compare, not very distantly, to some of the old English ballads.

" The tune for the contemporary song Bonnie Ship the Diamond aka Lish Buy-a- Broom was popular at the time and fits this song perfectly."

Commodore Samuel Tucker came to fame during the American revolutionary war and his exploits actually surpassed those of John Paul Jones, though his personality did not. Tucker eventually retired north to Bremen Maine but at age 67 was called out of retirement for the following adventure noted in A History of the Towns of Bristol and Bremen By John Johnston pp 400-405 published in 1873. "Early in the spring of the next year, 1813, the people were made aware of their danger by the appearance of a number of British cruisers at different places on the coast, of which the Rattler and the Bream became subsequently the most noted. They were sloops of war, the former carrying 16 guns, and the latter 8 guns. They suddenly made their appearance off Pemaquid point, the last day of March, and at once gobbled up 5 schooners and sloops, on their way to Boston, loaded with wood and lumber... The beginning thus made by the enemy upon the coasting trade of Maine was followed up vigorously during the summer, and a large part of the sloops and schooners engaged in it captured and destroyed or sold for the benefit of the captors.

Soon after the Bream made her appearance on the coast, a number of gentlemen having accidentally met together on a Sunday afternoon, some one ventured to raise the question whether it would not be possible to capture her by such a force as could be raised on the spot. The suggestion was favorably received, and Commodore Tucker, being called in consultation, strongly advised that such an enterprise should be instantly started. The proposition being once named there was no lack of volunteers for the service; and before 24 hours, the sloop Increase had been engaged for the enterprise, and a crew of 45 men....and the old commodore, Samuel Tucker, chosen captain...Soon the necessary papers were obtained from the Custom House, and the sloop was ready to sail, the men having provided for themselves the necessary rations. Each man also supplied himself with arms and ammunition. Some boarding pikes were provided, but the only gun they had, larger than a musket, was a small swivel. Thus prepared, the sloop without Capt. T., passed down from Muscongus, where she lay, and around Pemaquid point to Boothbay harbor where they came to anchor, and sent to Wiscasset for a couple of cannon and a brass field piece with the proper ammunition. Here the commodore came on board and assumed the command.... Everything being in readiness they passed out of the harbor and steered cast, in the hope of meeting the Bream or some privateer of the enemy, but only to be disappointed...They ran into Boothbay, discharged the soldiers who had joined them there, returned the cannon and field piece they had borrowed, and prepared to make their way home, a little discouraged at their want of success.

As they came around the point they saw a sail some distance to the cast, but kept on their way as if heading for St. George's river, and at the same time eyeing the stranger closely. Soon the stranger changed her course as if designing to intercept them, and they were then fully satisfied of her true character. Previous to this, Tucker had ordered all his men below, except the regular sailors to manage the vessel, and shaped his course as if aiming to make his escape. But soon tacking ship he suddenly bore down on the craft, at the same time ordering the American flag to be hoisted, and all his men to take their proper positions on deck, the object being to oblige the enemy to fight at close quarters... (Local lore has one Collamore, the "Bremen Giant", poised to hurl the anchor as a grappling hook. Fred added this detail to the song)

The enemy fired the first shot, but the firing was soon returned by the Increase, and with such effect that the enemy's men were soon obliged to seek a place of safety below decks. The captain, whose name was Jennings, threw himself upon his back on the quarter deck, and reaching up with his hands to the helm undertook to steer his vessel out of the range of the Yankee's guns, but it was of no avail. He was obliged to strike his colors, and the Yankees soon had possession of his vessel. Though there was much firing on both sides, and the sails and rigging of both vessels were considerably damaged, no person on either side was injured. Capt. Jennings found, by a hole in his hat, that a bullet had passed in very close proximity to his head, but he suffered no bodily harm... The prize proved to be the Crown, a privateer from Halifax, of about 35 tons burden, and 20 men. She had been only 8 days out from Halifax, but had captured an American brig and had a number of Americans as prisoners on board.....After the capture both vessels were taken into Round Pond. ...The men of the Crown, being prisoners of war, were sent to the jail in Wiscasset, and it is presumed, were in due time exchanged. Capt. Jennings, the commodore at first took with him to his own house ; but he was afterwards sent to Wiscasset jail, from which he made his escape in disguise.

On the twenty-sixth of April, or so it goes appear,
The brave boys of Bristol fitted out a privateer
In command of Captain Tucker, a sloop both neat and trim
And we set out to sail the seas all for to take the Bream

So cheer up my lively land and never be it said
The brave boys of Bristol were ever yet afraid

We cruised the shores for several days and nothing did appear
At length our brave commander resolved to homeward steer
It was on a Friday morning, and clear was the sky
And as we were returning, a sail we did spy

So cheer up etc.

Then rose our bold commander and to his men did say
"My boys, be all stout-hearted and do not fail today!
Our enemy's before us and after her we'll run
For I'm resolved to take her before the setting sun"

So cheer up etc.

Then we bore away for her and up to her did come
We hauled down our foresail and gave to her a gun
'Twas broadside and broadside we showed her Yankee play
'Til our enemy got frightened and tried to run away

So cheer up etc.

Then they quit their quarters and down below they run
We shot away their halliards and down their mailsail come
Their captain he stepped forward and waving of his hand
He cried "I must surrender; this I can no longer stand!"

So cheer up etc.

We went to bind her to our lee but much to our chagrin
We found we had no grappling hook to seize and pull her in
'Till Collamore stepped up and swung the anchor o'er his head
"Captain, shall I let her fly?" the Bremen Monster said.

So cheer up etc.

Then we hoisted out our boats and on board of her did go
We made them all prisoners and ordered them below
We hoisted Yankee colors and hauled the British down
And when we did examine her, she proved to be the Crown

So cheer up etc.

"Now" says our brave commander "we'll bring our prize ashore
For we're the boys that fear no noise, though cannons loudly roar!
And quickly we will clear the coast of all these British boys
For we will fight 'em till we die, and never mind their noise!"

So cheer up etc.

Now we have fought this privateer till she is overcome
And God bless Captain Tucker this day for what he's done
Likewise his officers and all his jolly crew
God grant that they may prosper in everything they do

So cheer up etc.

Blow Ye Winds Aye-O [3:46]

Fred Gosbee - whistle, vocal
Julia Lane - vocal, Celtic harp
Fred Gosbee - whistle

The first verse, chorus and the tune are from the singing of Annie Tate Moore, Ellsworth Falls ME recorded June 22,1941 for the Helen Hartness Flanders Collection, Middlebury VT. Additional lyrics are from the singing of Mrs. John Anderson of Windsor VT as sung by her relative from Newfoundland and printed in Vermont Folksongs and Ballads by Flanders and Brown (1931). Miriam Berg's online folksong collection (folksongcollector.com) includes a version learned from the University of California Hiking Club in 1958 or so, and Patrick Brian Warfield of the Wolfetones adapted a version for them with a different tune and without the chorus. I've recently become aware of an Australian version as well. Given the delightful story and the "music hall" quality of the song, it is surprising that it is not better known.

It was on the fourth of January down in the southern seas
Our ship lay at anchor near a big coral reef a-waiting for a breeze
And the captain he was down below and the sailors they were lying all about
When suddenly from under our bow a jolly little voice piped out