Digital History

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Topics

1. Songs of Revolution
2. The Irish American Experience in Song
3. Corridos: The Mexican American Experience Through Song
4. The Evolution of an American Song (Streets of Laredo)
5. New England Mill Girls in Song
6. Slave Culture Through Song
7. Westward Migration in Song
8. Sea Shanties
9. The Hutchinson Family

1. Songs of Revolution

In a 1-2 page essay, describe what the following songs tell us about the values and attitudes of the revolutionaries and identify the songs' authors

The Liberty Song
John Dickinson

The tune of The Liberty Song and some information about the song is available at:
http://www.contemplator.com/america/liberty.html

Come, join hand in hand, brave Americans all,
And rouse your bold hearts at fair Liberty's call;
No tyrannous acts shall suppress your just claim,
Or stain with dishonor America's name.

Chorus
In Freedom we're born and in Freedom we'll live.
Our purses are ready. Steady, friends, steady;
Not as slaves, but as Freemen our money we'll give.

Our worthy forefathers, let's give them a cheer,
To climates unknown did courageously steer;
Thro' oceans to deserts for Freedom they came,
And dying, bequeath'd us their freedom and fame.

Chorus

The tree their own hands had to Liberty rear'd,
They lived to behold growing strong and revered;
With transport they cried, Now our wishes we gain,
For our children shall gather the fruits of our pain.

Chorus

Then join hand in hand, brave Americans all,
By uniting we stand, by dividing we fall;
In so righteous a cause let us hope to succeed,
For heaven approves of each generous deed.

Chorus

In Freedom we're born and in Freedom we'll live.
Our purses are ready. Steady, friends, steady;
Not as slaves, but as Freemen our money we'll give.

Chester
William Billings

The tunes of Billings's songs are available at:
http://www.nationwide.net/~amaranth/billings.htm

Let tyrants shake their iron rod
And slav'ry clang her galling chains;
We'll fear them not. We trust in God;
New England's God forever rains.

Howe and Burgoyne and Clinton, too
With Prescott and Cornwallis join'd,
Together plot our overthrow,
In one infernal league combined.

When God inspired us for the fight
Their lines were broke, their lines were forc'd,
Their ships were shelter'd in our sight
Or swiftly driven from our coast.

The foe comes on with haughty stride,
Our troops advance with martial noise.
Their vet'rans flee before our youth
And generals yield to beardless boys.

What grateful offerings shall we bring,
What shall we render to the Lord?
Loud hallelujahs let us sing

The World Turned Upside Down
Author unknown

The tune is available at:
http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/midi/WRLDUP2.midi

Goody Bull and her daughter together fell out,
Both squabbled and wrangled and made a great rout.
But the cause of the quarrel remains to be told,
Then lend both your ears and a tale I'll unfold.
Derry down, down, hey derry down,
Then lend both your ears and a tale I'll unfold.

The old lady, it seems, took a freak in her head,
That her daughter, grown woman, might earn her own bread,
Self-applauding her scheme, she was ready to dance,
But we're often too sanguine in what we advance.
Derry down, down, hey derry down,
But we're often too sanguine in what we advance.

For mark the event, thus for fortune we're cross,
Nor should people reckon without their good host,
The daughter was sulky and wouldn't come to,
And pray what in this case could the old woman do?
Derry down, down, hey derry down,
And pray what in this case could the old woman do?

Zounds, neighbor, quoth pitt, what the devil's the matter?
A man cannot rest in his home for your clatter
Alas, cries the daughter, Here's dainty fine work,
The old woman grows harder than Jew or than Turk
Derry down, down, hey derry down,
The old woman grows harder than Jew or than Turk.

She be damned, says the farmer, and do her he goes
First roars in her ears, then tweaks her old nose,
Hello Goody, what ails you? Wake woman, I say,
I am come to make peace in this desperate fray.
Derry down, down, hey derry down,
I am come to make peace in this desperate fray.

Alas, cries the old woman, And must I comply?
I'd rather submit than the hussy should die.
Pooh, prithee, be quiet, be friends and agree,
You must surely be right if you're guided by me,
Derry down, down, hey derry down,
You must surely be right if you're guided by me.

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2. The Irish American Experience in Song

Write a 1-2 page essay that describes what the following two songs reveal about Irish American attitudes, values, beliefs, and struggles.

NO IRISH NEED APPLY

I'm a dacint boy, just landed from the town of Ballyfad;
I want a situation: yis, I want it mighty bad.
I saw a place advartised. It's the thing for me, says I;
But the dirty spalpeen ended with: No Irish need apply.
Whoo! says I; but that's an insult -- though to get the place I'll try.
So, I wint to see the blaggar with: No Irish need apply.

I started off to find the house, I got it mighty soon;
There I found the ould chap saited: he was reading the TRIBUNE.
I tould him what I came for, whin he in a rage did fly:
No! says he, you are a Paddy, and no Irish need apply!
Thin I felt my dandher rising, and I'd like to black his ere--
To tell an Irish Gintleman: No Irish need apply!

I couldn't stand it longer: so, a hoult of him I took,
And I gave him such a welting as he'd get at Donnybrook.
He hollered: Millia murther! and to get away did try,
And swore he'd never write again: No Irish need apply.
He made a big apology; I bid hlm thin good-bye,
Saying: Whin next you want a bating, add: No Irish need apply!

Sure, I've heard that in America it always is the plan
That an Irishman is just as good as any other man;
A home and hospitality they never will deny
The stranger here, or ever say: No Irish need apply.
But some black sheep are in the flock: a dirty lot, say I;
A dacint man will never write: No Irish need apply!

Sure, Paddy's heart is in his hand, as all the world does know,
His praties and his whiskey he will share with friend or foe;
His door is always open to the stranger passing by;
He never thinks of saying: None but Irish may apply.
And, in Columbia's history, his name is ranking high;
Thin, the Divil take the knaves that write: No Irish need apply!

Ould Ireland on the battle-field a lasting fame has made;
We all have heard of Meagher's men, and Corcoran's brigade.
Though fools may flout and bigots rave, and fanatics may cry,
Yet when they want good fighting-men, the Irish may apply,
And when for freedom and the right they raise the battle-cry,
Then the Rebel ranks begin to think: No Irish need apply

1. What is the song about?
2. What does the title of the song mean?
3. What is the tone of the song? How do you know that?
4. What do the words of the following songs tell us about the Irish attitudes toward migration and about their reception in the United States?

PADDY WORKS ON THE RAILWAY

In eighteen hundred and forty-one
My corduroy breeches I put on
My corduroy breeches I put on
To work upon the railway, the railway
I'm weary of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway

In eighteen hundred and forty-two
I didn't know what I should do
I didn't know what I should do
To work upon the railway, the railway
I'm weary of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway

In eighteen hundred and forty-three
I sailed away across the sea
I sailed away across the sea
To work upon the railway, the railway
I'm weary of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway

In eighteen hundred and forty-four
I landed on Columbia's shore
I landed on Columbia's shore
To work upon the railway, the railway
I'm weary of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway

In eighteen hundred and forty-five
When Daniel O'Connell he was alive
When Daniel O'Connell he was alive
To work upon the railway, the railway
I'm weary of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway

In eighteen hundred and forty-six
I made my trade to carrying bricks
I made my trade to carrying bricks
To work upon the railway, the railway
I'm weary of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway

In eighteen hundred and forty-seven
Poor Paddy was thinking of going to Heaven
Poor Paddy was thinking of going to Heaven
To work upon the railway, the railway
I'm weary of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway

In eighteen hundred and forty-eight
I learned to drink my whiskey straight
I learned to drink my whiskey straight
To work upon the railway, the railway
I'm weary of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway

1. What does this song tell us about Irish attitudes toward work and toward their life in America?
2. Who is Daniel O'Connell? Why is this reference significant?

DRILL YE TARRIERS

Every morning about seven o'clock
There were twenty tarriers drilling at the rock
The boss comes along and he says, "Keep still
And bear down heavy on the cast iron drill"

And drill, ye tarriers, drill
Drill, ye tarriers, drill
For it's work all day for the sugar in you tay
Down beyond the railway
And drill, ye tarriers, drill
And blast, and fire

The boss was a fine man down to the ground
And he married a lady six feet 'round
She baked good bread and she baked it well
But she baked it harder than the hobs of Hell

The foreman's name was John McCann
By God, he was a blamed mean man
Last week a premature blast went off
And a mile in the air went big Jim Goff

And when next payday came around
Jim Goff a dollar short was found
When he asked, "What for?" came this reply
"You were docked for the time you were up in the sky"

1. What does the song mean when it uses the word "tarriers"?
2. What does this song say about Irish attitudes toward the workplace?

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3. Corridos: The Mexican American Experience Through Song

Define a corrido; identify Juan Cortina and Joaquin Murrieta; and explain what the words of the "Corrido de Joaquin Murrieta" and Corrida of Juan Cortina tell us about the attitudes of nineteenth-century Mexican Americans.

THE CORRIDO OF JUAN CORTINA

Ese general Cortinas
es libre y muy soberano,
han subido sus honores
porque salvó a un mexicano That famed General Cortinas
is quite sovereign and free,
the honor due him is greater
for he saved a Mexican's life.
Los americanos hacían huelga
borracheras en las cantinas,
de gusto que había muerto
ese general Cortinas. The Americans made merry
they get drunk in the saloons,
out of joy over the death
of the famed General Cortinas.

THE CORRIDO OF JOAQUIN MURRIETA

Yo no soy americano
pero comprendo el inglés.
Yo lo aprendí con mi hermano
al derecho y al revés. I am not an American
but I understand English.
I learned it with my brother
forwards and backwards.
A cualquier americano
hago temblar a mis pies.
Por cantinas me metí
castigando americanos. And any American
I make tremble at my feet.
Through cantinas I went
punishing Americans.
"Tú serás el capitán
que mataste a mi hermano.
Lo agarraste indefenso,
orgulloso americano." "You must be the captain
who killed my brother.
You took him defenseless,
you boastful American."

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4. The Evolution of an American Song

"The Streets of Laredo" is one of the best known cowboy songs. It is actually an adaptation of several earlier Irish songs. In a 1-2 page essay, compare and contrast "The Streets of Laredo" with the ballads that it grew out of. What are the themes or issues that the predecessor songs deal with? What does this example tell us about the development of American music?

THE STREETS OF LAREDO

As I walked out on the streets of Laredo.
As I walked out on Laredo one day,
I spied a poor cowboy wrapped in white linen,
Wrapped in white linen as cold as the clay.

"I can see by your outfit that you are a cowboy."
These words he did say as I boldly walked by.
"Come an' sit down beside me an' hear my sad story.
"I'm shot in the breast an' I know I must die."

"It was once in the saddle, I used to go dashing.
"Once in the saddle, I used to go gay.
"First to the card-house and then down to Rose's.
"But I'm shot in the breast and I'm dying today."

"Get six jolly cowboys to carry my coffin.
"Six dance-hall maidens to bear up my pall.
"Throw bunches of roses all over my coffin.
"Roses to deaden the clods as they fall."

"Then beat the drum slowly, play the Fife lowly.
"Play the dead march as you carry me along.
"Take me to the green valley, lay the sod o'er me,
"I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong."

"Then go write a letter to my grey-haired mother,
"An' tell her the cowboy that she loved has gone.
"But please not one word of the man who had killed me.
"Don't mention his name and his name will pass on."

When thus he had spoken, the hot sun was setting.
The streets of Laredo grew cold as the clay.
We took the young cowboy down to the green valley,
And there stands his marker, we made, to this day.

We beat the drum slowly and played the Fife lowly,
Played the dead march as we carried him along.
Down in the green valley, laid the sod o'er him.
He was a young cowboy and he said he'd done wrong.

THE BARD OF ARMAUGH

Oh list' to the tale of a poor Irish harper
And scorn not the string of his old withered hands
But remember those fingers they once could move sharper
To raise up the strains of his dear native land.

It was long before the shamrock, dear isle's lovely emblem
Was crushed in its beauty by the Saxon's lion paw
And all the pretty colleens around me would gather
Call me their bold Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh.

How I love to muse on the days of my boyhood
Though four score and three years have fled by them
It's king's sweet reflection that every young joy
For the merry-hearted boys make the best of old men.

At a fair or a wake I would twist my shillelah
And trip through a dance with my brogues tied with straw
There all the pretty maidens around me would gather
Call me their bold Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh.

In truth I have wandered this wide world over
Yet Ireland's my home and a dwelling for me
And, oh, let the turf that my old bones shall cover
Be cut from the land that is trod by the free.

And when Sergeant Death in his cold arms doth embrace
And lull me to sleep with old Erin go bragh
By the side of my Kathleen, my dear pride, oh place me
Then forget Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh.

LOCKE HOSPITAL

As I was a-walking down by the Locke Hospital
Cold was the morning and dark was the day
I spied a young squaddie wrapped up in old linen
Wrapped up in old linen as cold as the day

Ch.: So play the drums slowly and play the fifes lowly
Sound a dead march as you carry him along
And over his coffin throw a bunch of white laurels
For he's a young soldier cut down in his prime.

Oh mother, dear mother, come sit ya down by me
Sit ya down by me and pity my sad plight
For my body is injured and sadly disordered
All by a young girl my own heart's delight

Get six of me comrades to carry my coffin
Get six of me comrades to carry me on high
And let every one hold a bunch of white roses
So no-one will notice as we pass them by

And over his headstone these words they were written
"All ye young fellows take warning from me.
Beware of the flash girls that roam through the city
For the girls of the city were the ruin of me."

THE UNFORTUNATE RAKE

As I was a-walking down by St. James' Hospital,
I was a-walking down by there one day,
What should I spy but one of my comrades
All wrapped up in flannel though warm was the day.

I asked him what ailed him, I asked him what failed him,
I asked him the cause of all his complaint.
"It's all on account of some handsome young woman,
'Tis she that has caused me to weep and lament.

"And had she but told me before she disordered me,
Had she but told me of it in time,
I might have got pills and salts of white mercury,
But now I'm cut down in the height of my prime.

"Get six young soldiers to carry my coffin,
Six young girls to sing me a song,
And each of them carry a bunch of green laurel
So they don't smell me as they bear me along.

"Don't muffle your drums and play your fifes merrily,
Play a quick march as you carry me along,
And fire your bright muskets all over my coffin,
Saying: There goes an unfortunate lad to his home."

THE WHORE'S (or MAGDALENE'S) LAMENT

Returning one night to my home rather late
From an old friend whom I'd just seen
I saw an old woman following a girl
Her daughter about seventeen
Her weak voice was calling 'come home with me now'
But the girl no attention did pay
As she was entering a house of ill fame
These words the old woman did say

Come back to your brothers and sisters
Come back to your father and me
So not desert us to lead a bad life
I've been a good mother to thee
You know very well your father is ill
Come home dear and try to behave
Don't go in that place, twill bring us disgrace
And drive your old parents to the grave

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5. New England Mill Girls in Song

Write a 1-2 page essay that explains who the mill girls were and addresses the questions following the songs.

SONG OF THE SPINNERS

The day is o'er,
Nor longer we toil and spin;
For ev'ning's hush withdraws from the daily din.
And now we wing, with gladsome hearts,
The theme of a spinner's song,
That labor to leisure a zest inmpairts,
Unknown to the idle throng.

We spin all day, and then, in the time for rest,
Sweet peace is found,
A joyous and welcome guest.
Despite of toil we all agree, or out of the Mills, or in,
Dependent on others we ne'er will be
So long as we're able to spin.

1) What do the lyrics of this song tell you about the values of the workers who sang it?
2) What do the lyrics tell you about the singers' attitudes about their work?
3) How do the lyrics use the word "dependent" here?
4) What is the "idle throng" the words refer to? What is the attitude toward it represented in the lyrics?

1836 Song Lyrics Sung by Protesting Workers at Lowell

Oh! isn't it a pity, such a pretty girl as I
Should be sent to the factory to pine away and die?
Oh! I cannot be a slave, I will not be a slave,
For I'm so fond of liberty,
That I cannot be a slave.

1) How does this song reflect the debate over the comparisons between the lives of free workers in the North and slaves in the South?
2) How do the women strikers use the term "slave" in these lyrics? How would their audience--people in Lowell, Massachusetts and in the rest of the North--respond to this use of the term?
3) How do the women strikers use the term "liberty" here? What would the meaning of this be to the song's audience?
4) At the end of this strike, native-born Yankee middle-class "daughters of free men" were replaced with immigrant women workers, mostly from Ireland. What did this action on the part of the mill managers say about the power of liberty rhetoric in the 1834 and 1836 strikes?

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6. Slave Culture Through Song

In a 1-2 page essay, address the issues raised in the following questions:
1. What references to religion appear in the following songs?
2. What might the songs have meant to enslaved African Americans?
3. What do these songs tell you about the values, beliefs, and struggles of the enslaved?
4. Do the songs contain any secret or hidden codes or messages? Which passages would you consider hidden codes?

NOBODY KNOWS THE TROUBLE I'VE SEEN

Refrain:
Nobody knows
The trouble I've seen.
Nobody knows but Jesus.
Nobody knows
The trouble I've seen.
Glory Hallelujah!

Sometimes I'm up,
Sometimes I'm down
Oh, yes, Lord.
Sometimes I'm almost to the ground
Oh, yes, Lord.
Refrain

I never shall
Forget that day
Oh, yes, Lord,
When Jesus washed my sins away,
Oh, yes, Lord.
Refrain

FOLLOW THE DRINKING GOURD

Follow the drinking gourd!
Follow the drinking gourd.
For the old man is awaiting for to carry you to freedom
If you follow the drinking gourd.

When the sun comes back and the first quail calls,
Follow the drinking gourd,
For the old man is awaiting for to carry you to freedom
If you follow the drinking gourd.

The riverbank makes a very good road,
The dead trees will show you the way,
Left foot, peg foot traveling on,
Following the drinking gourd.

The river ends between two hills,
Follow the drinking gourd,
There's another river on the other side,
Follow the drinking gourd.

Where the great big river meets the little river,
Follow the drinking gourd,
The old man is awaiting for to carry you to freedom
If you follow the drinking gourd.

GO DOWN MOSES

When Israel was in Egypt's Land:
Let my people go.
Oppress'd so hard they could not stand,
Let my people go.
Refrain:
Go down Moses
'way down in Egypt's land
Tell ol' Pharaoh,
Let my peoples go.

Thus saith the Lord, bold Moses said:
Let my people go.
If not I'll smite your firstborn dead,
Let my people go.
Refrain:

O let us all from bondage flee;
Let my people go.
And let us all in Christ be free!
Let my people go.
Refrain:

SWING LOW, SWEET CHARIOT

Refrain:
Swing low, sweet chariot,
Comin' for to carry me home!
Swing low, sweet chariot,
Comin' for to carry me home.

I looked over Jordan and what did I see,
Comin' for to carry me home!
A band of angels comin' after me,
Comin' for to carry me home! (Refrain)

If you get there before I do,
Comin' for to carry me home,
Jess tell my friends that I'm acomin' too,
Comin' for to carry me home. (Refrain)

I'm sometimes up and sometimes down,
Comin' for to carry me home,
But still my soul feels heavenly bound
Comin' for to carry me home! (Refrain)

STEAL AWAY TO JESUS

Refrain:
Steal away, steal away,
Steal away to Jesus!
Steal away, steal away home,
I ain't got long to stay here.

My Lord calls me;
He calls me by thunder;
The Trumpet sounds within my soul,
I ain't got long to stay here. (Refrain)

Green trees are bending;
Poor sinner stands atrembling;
The Trumpet sounds within my soul,
I ain't got long to stay here. (Refrain)

Tombstones are bursting;
Poor sinner stands atrembling;
The Trumpet sounds within my soul,
I ain't got long to stay here. (Refrain)

WADE IN THE WATER

Wade in the water,
Wade in the water children.
Wade in the water,
God's gonna trouble the water.

See that host all dressed in white
God's gonna trouble the water;
The leader looks like the Israelite,
God's gonna trouble the water.

See dat ban' all dressed in red,
God's gonna trouble the water;
Looks like de ban dat Moses lead,
God's gonna trouble the water.

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7. Westward Migration in Song

In a 1-2 page essay explain what the following songs say about the attitudes and aspirations with which American pioneers ventured westward?

SWEET BETSY FROM PIKE

Oh don't you remember sweet Betsy from Pike,
Who crossed the wide prairie with her lover Ike,
With two yoke of oxen, a big yellow dog,
A tall Shangai rooster, and one spotted hog?

CHORUS:
Singing dang fol dee dido,
Singing dang fol dee day.

One evening quite early they camped on the Platte.
'Twas near by the road on a green shady flat.
Where Betsy, sore-footed, lay down to repose --
With wonder Ike gazed on that Pike County rose.

The Shanghai ran off, and their cattle all died;
That morning the last piece of bacon was fried;
Poor Ike was discouraged and Betsy got mad,
The dog drooped his tail and looked wondrously sad.

They stopped at Salt Lake to inquire of the way,
Where Brigham declared that sweet Betsy should stay;
But Betsy got frightened and ran like a deer
While Brigham stood pawing the ground like a steer.

They soon reached the desert where Betsy gave out,
And down in the sand she lay rolling about;
While Ike, half distracted, looked on with surprise,
Saying, "Betsy, get up, you'll get sand in your eyes."

Sweet Betsy got up in a great deal of pain,
Declared she'd go back to Pike County again;
But Ike gave a sigh and they fondly embraced,
And they traveled along with his arm round her waist.

The Injuns came down in a wild yelling horde,
And Betsy was scared they would scalp her adored;
Behind the front wagon wheel Betsy did crawl,
And there fought the Injuns with musket and ball.

They suddenly stopped on a very high hill,
With wonder looked down upon old Placerville;
Ike sighed when he said, and he cast his eyes down,
"Sweet Betsy, my darling, we've got to Hangtown."

Long Ike and Sweet Betsy attended a dance;
Ike wore a pair of his Pike County pants;
Sweet Betsy was dressed up in ribbons and rings;
Says Ike, "You're an angel, but where are your wings?"

'Twas out on the prairie one bright starry night,
They broke out the whiskey and Betsy got tight,
She sang and she howled and she danced o'er the plain,
And showed her bare legs to the whole wagon train.

The terrible desert was burning and bare,
And Isaac he shrank from the death lurkin' there,
"Dear old Pike County, I'll come back to you."
Says Betsy, "You'll go by yourself if you do."

They swam wild rivers and climbed the tall peaks,
And camped on the prairies for weeks upon weeks,
Starvation and cholera, hard work and slaughter,
They reached Californy, spite of hell and high water.

A miner said, "Betsy, will you dance with me?"
"I will, you old hoss, if you don't make too free.
But don't dance me hard, do you want to know why?
Doggone ye, I'm chock full of strong alkali."

Long Ike and Sweet Betsy got married, of course,
But Ike, getting jealous, obtained a divorce,
While Betsy, well satisfied, said with a shout,
"Goodbye, you big lummox, I'm glad you backed out!"

BOUND FOR THE PROMISED LAND

On Jordan's stormy banks I stand
And cast a wishful eye
To Canaan's fair and happy land,
Where my possesions lie.

Chorus
I am bound for the promised land,
I am bound for the promised land
O who will come and go with me
I am bound for the promised land.

O the transporting rapt'rous scene
That rises to my sight;
Sweet fields arrayed in living green
And rivers of Delight.

Chorus
I am bound for the promised land,
I am bound for the promised land
O who will come and go with me
I am bound for the promised land.

There generous fruits that never fail
On trees immortal grow;
There rocks and hills and brooks and vales
With milk and honey flow.

Chorus
I am bound for the promised land,
I am bound for the promised land
O who will come and go with me
I am bound for the promised land.

Soon will the Lord my soul prepare
For joys beyond the skies,
Where never-ceasing pleasures roll,
And praises never die.

Chorus
I am bound for the promised land,
I am bound for the promised land
O who will come and go with me
I am bound for the promised land.

THE DYING CALIFORNIAN

Lay up nearer, brother, nearer,
For my limbs are growing cold,
And thy presence seemeth nearer
When thine arms around me fold.
I am dying, brother, dying,
Soon you'll miss me in your berth;
For my form will soon be lying,
Beneath the ocean's briny surf.

Tell my father when you see him
That in death I prayed for him
Prayed that I might only meet him
In a world that's free from sin.
Tell my mother, God assist her
Now that she is growing old,
That her child would glad have kissed her
When his lips grew pale and cold.

Listen, brother, catch each whisper
'Tis my wife I speak of now,
Tell, oh tell her how I missed her
When the fever burned my brow.
Tell her she must kiss my children
Like the kiss I last impressed,
Hold them as when last I held them
Held them closely to my breast.

It was for them I crossed the ocean,
What my hopes were I'll not tell;
But they gained an orphan's portion,
Yet He doeth all things well;
Tell them I have reached the haven
Where I sought the precious dust,
And I gained a port called Heaven
Where the gold will never rust.

8. Sea Shanties

In a 1-2 page essay, explain what a sea shanty is; describe the functions that such songs served; and tell your reader what the following songs reveal about the attitudes and values of sailors.

To learn about sea shanties, see:

http://parlorsongs.com/insearch/seasongs/shanties.asp

http://www.contemplator.com/history/epedia.html

http://www.contemplator.com/sea/

BLOW THE MAN DOWN
(see http://www.contemplator.com/sea/blowdown.html)

Come all ye young fellows that follow the sea,
to my way haye, blow the man down,
And pray pay attention and listen to me,
Give me some time to blow the man down.

I'm a deep water sailor just in from Hong Kong,
to my way haye, blow the man down,
if you'll give me some grog, I'll sing you a song,
Give me some time to blow the man down.

'Twas on a Black Baller I first served my time,
to my way haye, blow the man down,
And on that Black Baller I wasted my prime,
Give me some time to blow the man down.

'Tis when a Black Baller's preparing for sea
to my way haye, blow the man down,
You'd split your sides laughing at the sights that you see.
Give me some time to blow the man down.

With the tinkers and tailors and soljers and all
to my way haye, blow the man down,
That ship for prime seaman on board a Black Ball.
Give me some time to blow the man down.

'Tis when a Black Baller is clear of the land,
to my way haye, blow the man down,
Our Boatswain then gives us the word of command
Give me some time to blow the man down.

"Lay aft," is the cry,"to the break of the Poop!
to my way haye, blow the man down,
Or I'll help you along with the toe of my boot!"
Give me some time to blow the man down.

'Tis larboard and starboard on the deck you will sprawl,
to my way haye, blow the man down,
For "Kicking Jack" Williams commands the Black Ball.
Give me some time to blow the man down.

Pay attention to order, now you one and all,
to my way haye, blow the man down,
For right there above you flies the Black Ball.
Give me some time to blow the man down.

BLOW YE WINDS

'Tis advertised in Boston,
New York and Buffalo,
Five hundred brave Americans,
A-whaling for to go, singing,
Chorus:
Blow, ye winds in the morning,
And blow, ye winds, high-o!
Clear away your running gear,
And blow, ye winds, high-o!

2. They send you to New Bedford,
That famous whaling port,
And give you some land-sharks
To board and fit you out.
Chorus:

3. They send you to a boarding house,
There for a time to dwell;
The thieves they there are thicker
Than the other side of hell!
Chorus:

4. They tell you of the clipper ships
A-going in and out,
And say you'll take five hundred sperm
Before you're six months out.
Chorus:

5. It's now we're out to sea, my boys,
The wind comes on to blow;
One half the watch is sick on deck,
The other half below.
Chorus:

6. But as for the provisions,
We don't get half enough;
A little piece of stinking beef
And a blamed small bag of duff.
Chorus:

7. Now comes that damned old compass,
It will grieve your heart full sore.
For theirs is two and thirty points
And we have forty four.
Chorus:

8. Next comes the running rigging,
Which you're all supposed to know;
'Tis "Lay aloft, you son of a gun,
Or overboard you go!"
Chorus:

9. The coopers's at the vise bench,
A-making iron poles,
And the mate's upon the main hatch
A-cursing all our souls.
Chorus:

10. The Skipper's on the quarterdeck
A-squinting at the sails,
When up aloft the lookout sights
A school of whales.
Chorus:

11. "Now clear away the boats, my boys,
And after him we'll travel,
But if you get too near his fluke,
He'll kick you to the devil!"
Chorus:

12. Now we have got him turned up,
We tow him alongside;
We over with our blubber hooks,
And rob him of his hide.
Chorus:

13. Now the boat steerer overside
The tackle overhauls,
The Skipper's in the main-chains,
So loudly does he bawl!
Chorus:

14. Next comes the stowing down, my boys,
'Twill take both night and day,
And you'll all have fifty cents apiece
On the hundred and ninetieth lay.
Chorus:

15. Now we are bound into Tonbas,
That blasted whaling port,
And if you run away, my boys,
You surely will get caught.
Chorus:

16. Now we are bound into Tuckoona,
Full more in their power,
Where the skippers can buy the Consul up
For half a barrel of flour!
Chorus:

17. But now that our old ship is full
And we don't give a damn,
We'll bend on all our stu'nsails
And sail for Yankee land.
Chorus:

18. When we get home, our ship made fast,
And we get through our sailing,
A winding glass around we'll pass
And damn this blubber whaling!
Chorus:

HERE'S TO THE GROG

I've got a coat and a nobby, nobby coat
I've got a coat a-seen a lot of rough weather
For the sides are near wore out and the back is flying about
And the lining's looking out for better weather
Here's to the grog, boys, the jolly, jolly grog
Here's to the rum and tobacco
I've a-spent all my tin with the lassies drinking gin
And to cross the briny ocean I must wander

I've got me breeches, me nobby, nobby breeches
I've got breeches a-seen a lot of rough weather
For the pouch is near wore out and the seat's all flying about
And me knees are looking out for better weather
Here's to the grog, boys, the jolly, jolly grog
Here's to the rum and tobacco
I've a-spent all my tin with the lassies drinking gin
And to cross the briny ocean I must wander

I've got a shirt and a nobby, nobby shirt
I've got a shirt a-seen a lot of rough weather
For the collar's near wore out and the sleeves are flying about
And me tail's looking out for better weather
Here's to the grog, boys, the jolly, jolly grog
Here's to the rum and tobacco
I've a-spent all my tin with the lassies drinking gin
And to cross the briny ocean I must wander

I've got me boots, me nobby, nobby boots
I've got boots a-seen a lot of rough weather
For the bottoms' near wore out and the heels flying about
And me toes are looking out for better weather
Here's to the grog, boys, the jolly, jolly grog
Here's to the rum and tobacco
I've a-spent all my tin with the lassies drinking gin
And to cross the briny ocean I must wander

I've got a tile, a nobby, nobby tile
I've got a tile a-seen a lot of rough weather
For the brim it is wore out and the crown is flying about
And the lining's looking out for better weather
Here's to the grog, boys, the jolly, jolly grog
Here's to the rum and tobacco
I've a-spent all my tin with the lassies drinking gin
And to cross the briny ocean I must wander

ROLLING DOWN TO OLD MAUI

It's a damn tough life full of toil and strife
We whalemen undergo.
And we don't give a damn when the day is done
How hard the winds did blow.
For we're homeward bound from the Arctic ground
With a good ship, taut and free
And we don't give a damn when we drink our rum
With the girls of Old Maui.
Rolling down to Old Maui, me boys
Rolling down to Old Maui
We're homeward bound from the Arctic ground
Rolling down to Old Maui.

Once more we sail with a northerly gale
Through the ice and wind and rain.
Them native maids, them tropical glades,
We soon shall see again.
Six hellish months have passed away
One the cold Kamchatka Sea,
But now we're bound from the Arctic ground
Rolling down to Old Maui.
Rolling down to Old Maui, me boys
Rolling down to Old Maui
We're homeward bound from the Arctic ground
Rolling down to Old Maui.

Once more we sail with a northerly gale
Towards our island home.
Our mainmast sprung, our whaling done,
And we ain't go far to roam.
Our stuns'l bones is carried away
What care we for that sound?
A living gale is after us,
Thank God we're homeward bound.
Rolling down to Old Maui, me boys
Rolling down to Old Maui
We're homeward bound from the Arctic ground
Rolling down to Old Maui.

How soft the breeze through the island trees,
Now the ice is far astern.
Them native maids, them tropical glades
Is a-waiting our return.
Even now their soft brown eyes look out
Hoping some fine day to see
Our baggy sails runnin' 'fore the gales
Rolling down to Old Maui.
Rolling down to Old Maui, me boys
Rolling down to Old Maui
We're homeward bound from the Arctic ground
Rolling down to Old Maui.

9. The Hutchinson Family

In a 1-2 page essay, identify the Hutchinson family and explain what the following songs tell us about their values and beliefs and about mid-nineteenth century music.

King Alcohol

King Alcohol has many forms
By which he catches men
He is a beast of many horns
And ever thus has been.

For there's rum, and gin, and beer, and wine
And brandy of logwood hue
And hock, and port, and flip combine
To make a man look blue.

He says be merry, for here's good sherry
And Tom and Jerry, champagne and perry,
And spirits of every hue,

O are not these a fiendish crew
As ever a mortal knew
O are not these a fiendish crew
As ever a mortal knew.

King Alcohol is very sly
A liar from the first
He'll make you drink until you're dry
Then drink because you thirst.

For there's rum, and gin, and beer, and wine
And brandy of logwood hue
And hock, and port, and flip combine
To make a man look blue.

He says be merry, for here's good sherry
And Tom and Jerry, champagne and perry,
And spirits of every hue,

O are not these a fiendish crew
As ever a mortal knew
O are not these a fiendish crew
As ever a mortal knew.

King Alcohol has had his day
His kingdom's crumbling fast
His votaries are heard to say
Our tumbling days are past.

For there's no rum, nor gin, nor beer, nor wine
Nor brandy of any hue
Nor hock, nor port, nor flip combined
To make a man get blue

And now they're merry, without their sherry
Or Tom and Jerry, champagne and perry
Or spirits of every hue

And now they are a temperate crew
As ever a mortal knew
And now they are a temperate crew
And have given the devil his due.

The shout of Washingtonians
Is heard on every gale
They're chanting now the victory
O'er cider, beer, and ale.

For there's no rum, nor gin, nor beer, nor wine
Nor brandy of any hue
Nor hock, nor port, nor flip combined
To make a man get blue

And now they're merry, without their sherry
Or Tom and Jerry, champagne and perry
Or spirits of every hue

And now they are a temperate crew
As ever a mortal knew
And now they are a temperate crew
And have given the devil his due.

Eight Hours

We mean to make things over, we are tired of toil for naught,
With but bare enough to live upon, and never an hour for thought;
We want to feel the sunshine, and we want to smell the flowers,
We are sure that God has will'd it, and we mean to have eight hours.
We're summoning our forces from the shipyard, shop, and mill: