Traditional Newfoundland: Quigley/Apollonio
Many
years back my old shipmate Geordie Jennings brought me a fine little pamphlet
of songs. It was Gerald S. Doyle's "Old Time Songs of
Newfoundland" (Third Edition 1955).
Doyle says "The author …was
'Johnny Quigley', the bard from Erin, as he was wont to be styled by
Newfoundlanders in the old days…"
The first time I ever sang this for Nick Apollonio, his immediate
comment was to sing the "O was ye drunk…" lines to another
traditional tune.
January Men and Then Some
Ye muses so kind who are
guided by wind
On the ocean as well as the shore
Assist a poor bard how to handle his
card
Without ceasing where billows do roar
Not of cupid he sings, nor of country
nor kings
Nor of any such trifles he thinks
But of seafaring, sail making,
gambling, capering
Grog-drinking heroes like Hinks
When Jack comes ashore he's got money
galore
For he's seldom cut short of a job
He can dress as well now as any can
tell
With a good silver watch to his fob
For Jack in his life was ne'er plagued
with a wife
Though sometimes with the lassies he
links
That seafaring…
When inclined for to spend he comes in
with a friend
And with pleasure he sets himself down
And he tips up his glass and he winks
at the lass
And he smiles if she happens to frown
Like some rattling true-blue when the
reckoning is due
On the table his money he clinks
That seafaring…
One evening last fall we fell in with
a squall
On the northernmost head of Cape
Freels
We were cast away without further
delay
At the thought, how my spirit it
chills
When cast on the rocks like a hard
hunted fox
Then on death and destruction he
thinks
That seafaring…
Now Jack without fail was out in that
same gale
Having drove across Bonavist Bay
Old Neptune did rail as they handed
all sail
And he had his two spars cut away
But Providence kind who so eases the
wind
And on sailors so constantly thinks
Saved that seafaring…
Ah, but death it will come like the
sound of a drum
For to summon poor Jack to his grave
There's naught he can do, for you all
know 'tis true
'Tis the same for both hero and slave
And his soul soars aloft, so doleful
and soft
While the bell for the funeral clinks
Oh peace to that seafaring…
Nick's comment:
Oh, was ye drunk or was ye blind
When ye left your two fine spars
behind?
Or was it stivvering over the sea
Took the two fine sticks from your
decks away?
To me too rye a, fall the diddle da
Toorye, oorye, oorye a
Jack
Hinks
is recorded on the album Herrings in the Bay