Billy O’Rourke

AKA Billy O’Rouke
Billy O’Rook’s The Boy Sir
and similar variations
First Published 1790s
Writer/composer unknown Roud RN2101

Music Hall Performers Sam Collins
Folk performances Source Singers
Newton, John 1904 England : Yorkshire Bay
Calder, Rev John 1906 Scotland
Spence, William 1909 Scotland
Robertson, Miss Bell 1909 Scotland
Lohrberg, Mrs. Carrie 1946 USA : Illinois
Overson, Mrs. Mabel I. 1948 USA : Utah
Weare, Henry W. 1954 USA : Arkansas		 

The Quaver or Songsters Pocket Companion (1844)

I greased my brogues and cut my stick,
At the latter end of May, sir,
And off for England I set out,
To sail upon the sea, sir.
Then next to London I set out 
To cut the hay and corn, sir
To leave old Ireland far behind
The place where I was born, sir
 
With my shillimacroo
And my heart more true,
For Billy O'Rourke is the boy, sir!

I gave the captain six thirteens,
To carry me over to Pargate,
Before we got over half the waves,
It blew at a hell of a hard rate.
The big stick that grew out of the ship,
Began to roar and whistle,
And the sailors all, both great and small,
Cries Pat you will go to the devil.
 
Some fell on their bended knees,
The ladies fell a-fainting,
But I fell to my bread and cheese,
For I always mind the main thing.
Says the sailors: "To the bottom you go!"
Says I: 'We don't care a farthing;
For I paid my passage to Pargate, you know,
And, damn'd but you'll stick to your bargain,"
 
The wind did whistle some to sleep,
Till we came to the place of landing,
And those that were the most afraid
The ladies out were handing.
Says I, Your clothes feel mighty droll
And you surely must have riches,
and for your heart it don't let in the right part,
It surely must lay in your breeches.

Then for London I set out,
And going along the road, sir
I met an honest gentleman
Who proved to be a rogue, sir
He cock'd a pistol to my breast,
Close to my very mouth, sir
Saying, Paddy my boy, I'd have ye be smart, 
In handing out your money, sir.

O, patience, honest gentleman, 
And hear me speak a word, sir, 
For twopence is all the money I've got, 
To carry me many a mile, sir. 
He said he would no longer wait, 
His patience I had fairly tir'd; 
His pan it flash'd, his brains I smashed 
With my shillelagh that never miss'd fire

A song sung most famously in the Music Halls from the 1840s on by Sam Collins, as ever drawing humour from Irish stereotypes. It seems to come from the time before the Halls, though I have been unable to find a precise date or author. It may be related to a song of the same title and a similar structure which appeared in The Wicklow Mountains a comic opera by John O’Keeffe (1794), though the song may be slightly older than this. The name “Billy O’Rourke” seems to have been used as a standard name for an Irish character in a number of theatrical productions in the late 18th and early 19th century which may explain why other songs about Billy are also in circulation.

It’s been collected from a wide range of source singers, and was also printed widely, in many substantially different versions, throughout the 19th century. The version I’ve reproduced above is from 1844, about the time that Sam Collins might have started singing it.

You can hear Henry Weare sing it in the Ozark folk song collection

Sources: