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