Sound of the drum The village deserted to follow the drum
First Published
c1830
Writer/composer
Thomas Hudson / J Blewitt
Roud
RN1076
Music Hall Performers
Thomas Hudson
Folk performances
Collected from the singing of: Albery, William; England : Hampshire; no date Keech, Simeon; England : Dorset : Poole 1906 Franklin, Henry; England : Oxfordshire; 1911 Parrott, Mrs. England : Bedfordshire : Bedford 1923 Parrott, D. England : Cambridgeshire 1959
Modern performances The Yetties Steve Turner
Catnach Broadside dated 1813-38
TWAS in the merry month of May,
When bees from flower to flower did hum,
Soldiers through the town march'd gay,
The village flew to the sound of the drum
From windows lasses look'd a score,
Neighbours met at every door,
Serjeant twirl'd his sash and story,
And talk'd of wounds, honor, and glory.
'Twas in the merry month, &c.
Roger swore he'd leave his plough,
His team and tillage, all, by gun!
Of a country life he'd had enow—
He'd leave it all and follow the drum.
He'd leave his thrashing in the barn,
To thrash his foes right soon he'd learn,
With sword in hand he would not parley,
But thrash his foes instead of the barley.
The Cobbler he threw by his awl,
When all were glad, he'd ne'er be glum,
But quick attend to glory's call,
And like a man would follow the drum.
No more at home he'd be a slave,
But take his seat amid the brave ;
In battle's seat none should be prouder,
Stead of balls and wax, he'd have balls and powder.
The Tailor he got off his knees,
And to the ranks did boldly come :
He said he ne'er would sit at his ease,
But follow the rest, and follow the drum.
How he'd leather the foes, good Lord !
When he'd a bodkin for a sword,
The French should find he didn't wheedle,
When he'd a spear instead of a needle.
Three Old Women—the first was lame,
The second was blind, and the third nigh dumb,
To stay behind was a burning shame,
They'd follow the men, and follow the drum !
Our wills are good, but lack-a-day,
To catch the soldiers we will try for it,
For where there's a will, there's always a way,
We'll walk a mile or two if we die for them.
The village deserted to follow the drum usually shortened to Follow the drum was written to be performed in the singing taverns and supper clubs of 1830s London, that influenced the development of Music Hall in that city. It comes from the pen of Thomas Hudson – it must have been of his more popular songs as he chose to publish it as sheet music rather than in one of his songbooks. Searches in 19th-century newspapers revealed that it was a popular song throughout the century, regularly performed by a variety of singers on the Music Hall stage. The song was extremely widely published in songbooks and broadsides throughout the 19th century on both sides of the Atlantic.
The earliest reference I can find is in 1833, when it was advertised for sale as a comic song published by Collard and Collard in Bell’s Life in London and Sporting Chronicle.
Not to be confused with:
Follow the Drum a “military melodrama” written by Rass Challis which was performed in many theatres in the late 1880s (I have been unable to find out whether the song was performed as part of the play, but songs were definitely involved…)
Follow the Drum – a rather unpleasant recruiting song written and performed by FV St. Clair in the lead up to the First World War.
Collected from the singing of: Phillips, Mrs.; England : Wiltshire; 1914-16 Baldry, Jim England : Suffolk ; 1956 Knights, Jimmy; England : Suffolk; 1975 Lanham, Ruby; England : Suffolk; 1970s?
Modern performances The Woodbine & Ivy Band Bob and Gill Berry
From a broadside published by Pearson in Manchester (no date)
I live a jovial country life,
Happy am I with my home and wife.
Some people are richer, I envy none,
I'm rich enough with my dog and gun.
Early in the morning I leave my home
That is the time in the fields to roam.
Down in the valley my house you'll see,
Folks say it's small but it just suits me.
I love my wife, my pipe and my glass,
Gaily along life's road do I pass.
Jolly and free it just suits me
And out with my gun in the morning.
Who'd lie in bed when the lark sings high!
Up in the blue and cloudless sky.
Gay as a bird to the fields I go,
Back I return with the sunset's glow.
My dear little wife, as I cross the stile,
Welcomes me home with a loving smile.
Perhaps other women may fairer be
But she's my own and she just suits me.
Winter may come and the winds may blow,
Safe in my home from frost and snow.
By my fireside with my wife I sing
I wouldn't change with a crowned king.
Happy am I, in my little cot,
Contented I'll be with my humble cot [lot?].
Fellows may sneer at my low degree
They say I'm poor, but it just suits me.
This song appears on a limited number of 19th-century English broadsides and has been collected from the singing of four traditional singers in England. A number of modern performers include it in their repertoire, more on this at the excellent Mainly Norfolk site
There is reasonable evidence that this was originally sung on the Music Hall stage by a performer called Albert Brennir, with words by Frank Green and music by Albert Lee. In January of 1870 multiple notices appeared in London newspapers announcing the success of the song, for example:
Monday, Jan. 24, 1870, The Daily Telegraph
In 1873 song was published, credited to Green and Lee and there is a copy in the British Library, the catalogue record specifies that the first line is: I live a jovial country life. It was not unusual for publishers to wait a few years before publishing sheet music. At that time songs written for the Music Hall were relatively disposable – if they were particularly successful and likely to appeal to the middle classes and better off workers who owned pianos, only then would they be published formally.
Strangely, the song appears in the US publication de Marsan’s Singers Journal No. 92 (c1873) under a different title, It just suits me, credited to a different British songwriter JA Hardwick. I have searched for any other evidence that Hardwick had a hand in writing the song, or perhaps an earlier version. So far I can find no evidence to support this attribution, so for now I will continue to tribute the song to Green and Lee.
Albert Brennir (b, d unknown ) does not appear in the standard histories of the halls – I have put together this brief biography based on searches in 19th-century newspapers and periodicals. His name starts appearing in around 1870 and the Era Almanac of that year describes him as “a Negro delineator”, a description which does not appear in later references to him . This probably means that, like many entertainers at that time, he started in blackface but abandoned it when he became more successful. In the 1870s he was either described as a “sentimental” or “buffo” baritone singer – “buffo” indicating that he was known for singing comic opera. For a while in the early 1870s he was chairman and manager of The Marylebone Music Hall in London. Later references seem to indicate that he increasingly moved away from the Halls and into more respectable venues – concert halls and theatres. From the mid 1870s to the late 1890s there are multiple reports of him taking part in domestic and international tours as part of concert parties and comic opera companies.
Richard Short’s history Dicky Short Dicky Short’s History
First Published
1818
Writer/composer
Thomas Hudson / unknown
Roud
RN22802
Music Hall Performers
Mr Emery?
Folk performances
Collected from the singing of: Willett, Samuel; England : Sussex; 1891 Modern performances
From Thomas Hudson's 1st Collection of Comic Songs (1818)
LOVE IN A HAYBAND.
SUNG BY THE LATE MR. EMERY.
Tune.-“ Legacy."
Did you ever hear one Richard Short's history?
If you didn't I'll tell it you now;
All over our parts it was thought quite a mystery,
He was a young man that follow'd the plough.
But he got tired of that kind of life did,
Was hired as hostler at sign of the Crown,
Fell in love with the maid, want her for a wife did,
'Twas very well known to all folk in our town!
This lass Nelly Long, she was dressish and dapper,
And tho'f our Dick was a good looking lad;
She snubb'd him and scoff'd him, for she was a snapper,
And told him quite plump that she warn’t to be had,
For she lov’d a man much more handsome and bigger,
And he came fra’ Lunnon, and wasn't a clown;
His name it was Sly, and he was a grave digger,
And very well known to all th' folk in our town !
As Nelly right flat-like his wife did refuse to be,
Richard he lost all his comfort and hope;
And said, As he didn't feel like what he used to be,
He'd hang himself if he could find him a rope.
He hunted about, while with love he did falter,
But the devil a rope could he find up nor down;
So he twisted a hay band, and made him a halter,
'Twas very well known to all th’ folks in our town.
He hung himself up to a tree in a meadow,
He felt all over he didn't know how;
His neck was a stretching, but's feet couldn't tread O!
When up came by chance Farmer Giles's old cow ;
She smelt at the hay, and caught hold of the band fast,
Pluck'd out a mouthful, which brought Dicky down;
He jump'd on his legs, and away then he ran fast,
And was never more seen by th' folks in our town.
Now mark what a judgment came on that lass Nelly,
For being so hard-hearted to that poor lad;
She by the grave-digger got stout about belly,
And he run away, leaving her all so sad.
She (when too late) found that she was betray'd, and
Relations they all turn'd their backs with a frown!
She laid in, and her boy it was mark'd with a hayband,
'Twas very well known to all th' folks in our town.
A song written by Thomas Hudson (1791- 1844) a song-writer and performer active in the singing taverns and supper rooms that influenced the early Music Hall in London. This song was written for performance by Mr Emery, a prominent theatre actor – so strictly speaking not a Music Hall song.
June 4, 1818, Morning Post (London, England)
Like many of Hudson’s songs this one survives in multiple 19th century broadsheets and songbooks, usually appearing under the title Love in a hayband, but sometimes under one or other of the alternative titles above. (A hayband is a rope made of straw)
Several of Hudson’s songs were remembered by traditional singers whose songs were picked up by folk song collectors in the late 19th and early 20th century. This one was collected by Lucy Broadwood from the singing of Samuel Willett in 1891. It also appears in one of the notebooks of Sabine Baring Gould, made in the 1880s/90s – William Knapman had sent him a song called Dicky Short’s Sad Story– Gould’s notes make it clear he recognised it as a Hudson song:
Sent me by Wm Knapman, Auctioneer, South Zeal. He wrote “the event happened at Sth. Zeal many years ago.” Same on a broadside by Beezley, Exeter. Song by Hudson to air “The Legacy”. Universal Songster” I. p. 43 “Love in a Hayband.”
Collected from the singing of: Unknown singer; Isle of Wight; before 1886 Knight, Bessie; England : Sussex; 1912 Messenger, Charles; England ; Gloucestershire; 1914-16 Modern performances The Dollymopps 2011
From Thomas Hudson's 6th Collection of Comic Songs p20 (1824) TUNE- Calder Fair
Down in our village lived a Parson and his wife. Who led a very decent sort o' comfortable life; They kept a serving man and maid as tidy as could be, The maid was fond of Roger! and Roger fond of she!
The Parson's wife kept Dolly so very close to work. She might as well been bred and born a Hottentot or Turk ; But tho' she was employed all day, as close as close could be. Her thoughts were fix'd on Roger — and Roger's fix'd on she.
The Parson was an old man, and would have done amiss. For he got her in a corner, and ax'd her for a kiss; But she answer'd to him, as plain as plain could be, She wanted Roger! — and Roger wanted she!
Cupid, that blind little god, had got so in her head. That every night, as sure as ever she went up to bed. Before she went to sleep, she, as pious as could be. Would pray she might have Roger ! — and Roger prayed for she!
By love and work together she was taken very ill, The Doctor he was sent for, and tried his best of skill ; But she would not take his stuff, though bad as bad could be. She only wanted Roger! - and Roger wanted she!
When the Parson found 'twas only love that made her bad. He very kindly said, that she had better have the lad; The sight of him soon made her well, as well as well could be ; They married — she had Roger! — and Roger, he had she!
[NB: “Hottentot” is a racist term first used by the Dutch and later adopted in Britain. It refers to the clicking sound which features in the language of Southern African Khoisan peoples.]
This song was written and performed by Thomas Hudson (1791- 1844) a song-writer and performer active in the singing taverns and supper rooms that influenced the early Music Hall in London. Like many of Hudson’s songs this one survived in several 19th century broadsheets and songbooks.
Several of Hudson’s songs were remembered by traditional singers whose songs were picked up by folk song collectors in the late 19th and early 20th century. For example, this song was collected by Alfred Williams from the singing of Charles Messenger, and published in the Wiltshire and Gloucestershire Standard in summer 1916. The song was originally written to be sung to a tune called Calder Fair – a traditional tune very similar to Sing a song of Sixpence.
Alfred Williams noted:
A plain old ditty that used to be sung at Latton and Down Ampney. Both these villages were once famed for music and Morris dancing, and were full of choice old songs which have disappeared now however. Obtained of Charles Messenger, Cerney Wick.’
Alfred Williams, Wilts and Gloucestershire Standard, 26th February, 1916.
Mary Rosebud and Master Ralph When I was down honeypots
First Published
1824
Writer/composer
Thomas Hudson / unknown
Roud
RN12615
Music Hall Performers
Mr Sherwin
Folk performances
Collected from the singing of: Unknown singer; England, Somerset; 1903
Thomas Hudson's 6th Collection of Comic Songs p11, 1824
(Written for Mr. Sherwin, of the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane.)
Tune — Derry Down
WHEN I wur at whoam I wur in a sad plight,
A doing o'summat fra' morning to night:
I hoped such a life 'could not always endure,
Ther wur nothin' but work, work, work, work, to be sure.
One morning it hap'd I wur making o'hay,
I spied Mary Rosebud a coming that way:
"Here, Ralph!" she cried out, I quickly ran to her.
"Help me over the stile;" oh, says I, "To be sure"
I lifted her over, and then felt all o'er,
A sort of a somehow, I ne'er felt before;
So I said as I got myself closer up to her,
"Mary, you'll grant me one kiss, to be sure?"
Says I, when I'd gin her one sweet melting smack,
"If you don't like it, why give it me back:
Said she, "Mr. Ralph," and she look'd so demure,
"What makes you so imp'runt? "Why, love, to be sure"
Says I, "Will you marry?" while down her head hung,
She answer'd "Why, Ralph, we're both of us too young;
And if we wur married, we'd always be poor",
"And - we might - ha' some - children", says I "To be sure"
"I have saved up three pounds, says I, safe in a purse,
So let us get married for better, for worse;
'Twill happiness bring to us both quite secure";
"But d'ye think we shall do?" "Lord!" says I, "To be sure"
Her kisses so sweet did the minutes beguile'
When who but old master should come o'er the stile:
Says he, "Master Ralph, dost thee think I'll endure?
"Do you call this working?" says I, "To be sure!"
Says he, "Now I'll just tell ye what, Master Ralph,
"You're getting too lazy and saucy by half;
"You don't do no work — you're as thin as a skewer,
"But ye feeds nation well!" "Yes" says I, "To be sure!"
One word brought another — he got in a rage,
Discharged me at once, but first paid me my wage :
I've gotten a good place, no longer I'm poor,
"I'll marry sweet Mary - I will, "To be sure!"
A song written by Thomas Hudson (1791- 1844) a song-writer and performer active in the singing taverns and supper rooms that influenced the early Music Hall in London. This song was written for performance in Drury Lane Theatre – so strictly speaking not a Music Hall song.
Unlike some of Hudson’s songs this one cannot be found in large numbers of 19th century broadsheets and songbooks. It seems to have survived in only two songbooks.
Despite it relative scarcity in print, the song seems to have been passed down and transformed into When I was down honeypots – a song whose words and music were collected from an unknown singer by Cecil Sharp and Charles Marson in 1903. The words and music appear in Sharp’s hand-written notebooks, but were never published in any of his collections – possibly because Sharp didn’t consider it a folk song.
Its interesting to see how the song was changed, so I’ve reproduced as best I can the lyrics that Sharp wrote down:
When I was down Honeypots making of hay, I spied my dear Mary coming that way, I called out to her and she quickly stepped up to me, [spoken] Lor Mary! I couldn’t steal a kiss could I? [sung] Ah! To be zure! Fol de rol etc
Oh! I asked her to marry and she down her head hung, And said my dear Dick, we are both very young, And if we do marry we always might be poor, Yes and in fact have some little ones [spoken] Little ones? [sung] Ah! To be zure! Fol de rol etc
We had six little ones the image of me, So fat and so chubby as ever could be, One day she said to me to do you think we shall have any more? [Spoken] she laughed and I answered [sung] Ah! To be zure! Fol de rol etc
The song has been shortened, but maintains something of its stage origins – if nothing else in the combination of patter and singing…
Collected from the singing of: Nurse, Ron; England : Shropshire; 1995 Modern performances
I love a lassie, a bonnie Hielan' lassie,
If you saw her you would fancy her as well:
I met her in September, popped the question in November,
So I'll soon be havin' her a' to ma-sel'.
Her faither has consented, so I'm feelin' quite contented,
'Cause I've been and sealed the bargain wi' a kiss.
I sit and weary weary, when I think aboot ma deary,
An' you'll always hear me singing this...
I love a lassie, a bonnie bonnie lassie,
She's as pure as a lily in the dell,
She's sweet as the heather, the bonnie bloomin' heather,
Mary, my Scots bluebell.
I love a lassie, a bonnie Hielan' lassie,
She can warble like like a blackbird in the dell.
She's an angel ev'ry Sunday, but a jolly lass on Monday:
She's as modest as her namesake the bluebell.
She's nice, she's neat, she's tidy and I meet her ev'ry Friday:
That's a special nicht, you bet, I never miss.
I'm enchanted, I'm enraptured, since ma heart the darlin'captur'd,
She's intoxicated me with bliss...
I love a lassie, a bonnie Hielan' lassie,
I could sit an' let her tease me for a week:
For the way she keeps behavin' well, I never pay for shavin',
'Cause she rubs ma whiskers clean off with her cheek.
And underneath ma bonnet, where the hair was, there's none on it,
For the way she pats ma head has made me bald.
I know she means no harm, for she'll keep me nice and warm,
On the frosty nichts sae very cauld...
One of Harry Lauder‘s best remembered songs, sung for the first time in pantomime at Christmas 1905 at the Theatre Royal in Glasgow. It has formed the basis of a number of parodies.
Collected from the singing of: Lillywhite, Miss F; England : Buckinghamshire; 1905 Franklin, Edward; England : Buckinghamshire; 1907
From Thomas Hudson's 4th Collection of Comic Songs (1822)
TUNE- The Last Shilling
I had knock'd out the dust from my pipe t'other night.
Old Time towards midnight was creeping ;
Th' last smoke from its ashes had taken its flight,
I felt neither waking nor sleeping.
A voice, loud and hollow, and seemingly near
(You'll say 'tis a dream or a fable,)
Directed towards me, said audibly clear,
"List, list, list to me, thy oak table.
"I was once of the forest the monarch so bold,
Nor tempest nor storm made me tremble;
And oft, yery oft, the fam'd Druids of old
Would under my branches assemble:
Their mysterious rites they'd perform before me;
Those rites to unfold I am able;
But be that now forgot — I was then an oak tree,
And now I am but an oak table."
"But the axe brought me down, and soon lopp'd was each bough
When I to a ship was converted;
Mann'd by true hearts of oak, the wide ocean to plough,
And by victory never deserted.
But worn out by time, and reduc'd to a wreck
Bereft of my anchor and cable;
A carpenter bought, and with part of my deck
Made what you see now — an oak table."
"Now thrust in a corner— put out of the way,
(But I fear I your patience am tiring,)
I expect nothing less than, some forthcoming day,
To be broke up and used for your firing."
"No, never!" cried I, as I started awake,
"I'll keep thee as long as I'm able.
And each friend that my humble cheer will partake,
Shall be welcome around my oak table."
A song originally written and performed by Thomas Hudson (1791- 1844) a performer active in the singing taverns and supper rooms that influenced the early Music Hall in London. It was set to the music written for Charles Dibdin’s song, The last shilling.
Victorians could get sentimental about just about anything, including the furniture! A gentleman dozing in his room starts a conversation with the furniture – you’ve got to wonder what was in that pipe …
Like many of Hudson’s songs this one survives in multiple 19th century broadsheets and songbooks, and was remembered by traditional singers whose songs were picked up by folk song collectors in the early 20th century.
From Harry Linn's Fire-Side Song Book (1880)
The world we live in is just like the sea, travellers over its waters are we;
Let us be happy where ever we be, if the wind blows steady and strong:
It's no use to grumble, to growl, or complain, we can't stop the wind and we can't stop the rain
After the start we have sunshine again; so paddle your boat along.
Always try to be happy and gay, let this world jog along as it may;
Always do right and never do wrong, as you paddle your boat along.
We meet some people who always seem glad, others who always looked solemn and sad;
They want all the good, if they share in the bad they think it decidedly wrong.
There's good things enough in this world for us all, but we must be content with a share of the small;
Though little our lot, some have nothing at all; so paddle your boat along.
Don't be downhearted though breakers may roar, or if your boat be cast on the shore;
You are bound to get into smooth water once more, if you pull both steady and strong.
Don't go to slowly nor yet go too fast, always make way for a friend to get past,
And the harbour in safety you'll reach it at last, so paddle your boat along.
A song by Harry Linn which draws heavily on two very successful songs of Harry Clifton: Pulling hard against the stream, published in 1867 and Paddle your own canoe, published in 1866. Unlike Clifton’s songs, this one does not seem to have entered the oral tradition. It’s included here for the sake of clarity: it is often confused with Paddle your own canoe – if you compare the two the words are very different…
Initially, Linn sold the rights to the song to Fred Coyne, and the two of them tried to prevent other performers from using the song. This is one of a number of adverts they took out to establish their ownership:
Sept. 24, 1876, The Era
The song seems to have been revived by Minnie Cunningham (1872-1954) in the late 1890s.
Collected from the singing of: Kramer, Eleanor McKay; USA : W. Virginia; no date
From Thomas Hudson's 4th Collection of Comic Songs (1822)
Tune - White Cockade
In Grays Inn Lane, not long ago
An old maid liv'd a life of woe;
She was fifty-three, and her face like tan,
When she fell in love with a dogs' meat man;
Much she lov'd this dogs' meat man;
He was a good-looking dogs' meat man;
Her roses and lilies had turned to tan
When she fell in love with a dogs' meat man.
Every morning he went by.
Whether the weather was wet or dry.
And right opposite to her door did stan'
And cry "dogs' meat !" this dogs' meat man-
Then her cat would run out to the dogs' meat man,
And rub against the barrow of the dogs' meat man.
As right opposite to her door did stan'
And cry "dogs' meat !"this dogs' meat man.
One morn she kept him at the door,
Talking half an hour or more;
For you must know that was her plan.
To have a good look at the dogs' meat man,
"Times are hard," says the dogs' meat man;
"Folks get in my debt,!' says the dogs' meat man;
Then he took up his barrow and away he ran.
And cried "dogs' meat!" this dogs' meat man.
He soon saw which way the cat did jump,
And his company he offered plump;
She couldn't blush, 'cause she'd got no fan.
So she sot and grinn'd at the dogs' meat man.
"If you'll marry me," says the dogs' meat man,
"I'll marry you," says the dogs' meat man
For a quartern of peppermint then he ran.
And she drink-d a "good health" to the dogs' meat man
That very evening he was seen
In jacket and breeches of velveteen;
To Bagnigge Wells then in a bran ___
New gown she went went with the dogs' meat man
She'd biscakes and ale with the dogs' meat man
And she "walked arm in arm" with the dogs' meat man;
And the people all said vot round did stan'
He was quite a dandy dogs' meat man.
He said his customers, a good lod!
They ow'd him a matter of two pound odd;
And she replied it was quite scan-
-dalous to cheat such a dogs' meat man.
"If I had but the money," says the dogs' meat man
"I'd open a tripe shop," says the dogs' meat man,
"And I'd marry you to-morrow." — She admir'd the plan,
And — she lent a five pound note to the dogs' meat man.
He pocketed the meney and went away,
She waited for him all next day;
But he never com'd, and she then began
To think that she was diddl'd by the dogs' meat man
She went out to seek for the dogs' meat man
But she couldn't find the dogs' meat man
Some friend gave her to understan'
He'd got a wife and seven children, this dogs' meat man
So home she went in grief and tears,
All her hopes transformed to fears,
And her hungry cat to miew began.
As much as to say "Where's the dogs' meat man?"
She couldn't help thinking of the dogs' meat man,
The handsome swindling dogs' meat man;
So you see just in one day's short span,
She lost her heart— a five pound note — and the dogs' meat man
The dogs’ meat man was written and performed in the 1820s and 30s by Thomas Hudson (1791- 1844) a comic active in the singing taverns and supper rooms that influenced the early Music Hall in London. Like many of Hudson’s songs this one survived in multiple 19th century broadsheets and songbooks. It was also a popular song in the repertoire of Robert Glindon in the 1840s. Later in the 19th century it was sung by Tony Pastor, famous American early vaudevillian.
At some point it was collected from the singing of Eleanor McKay Kramer in West Virginia and to that extent it has entered traditional song..
Collected from the singing of: Piper, George W.; USA; 1868-70 Radmore, J England : Devon : South Zeal 1894 Punt, James; England : Essex; 1904 Byers, George J.; Canada : Nova Scotia; 1917 Byers, J.W.; Canada : Nova Scotia; 1960 Henneberry, Ben; Canada : Nova Scotia; 1943
Modern performances Tim Laycock Ye Mariners All
From Thomas Hudson's 6th Collection of Comic Songs (1824)
TUNE- College Hornpipe
The perils, and dangers of the voyage pass'd,
And the ship to Portsmouth arrived at last;
The sails all furl'd and the anchor cast,
the happiest of the crew was Jack Robinson:
For his Poll he had trinkets and gold galore
Besides of prize-money quite a store;
And along wi' the crew he went ashore,
As cockswain to the boat Jack Robinson
Tol de rol, etc
He met with a man, and said, I say,
Mayhap you may know one Polly Gray ?
She lives somewhere hereabouts — the man said. Nay,
I do not indeed, to Jack Robinson.
Says Jack to him, I've left my ship'
And all my messmates giv'd the slip
Mayhap you'll partake of a good can of flip,
For you're a civil fellow, says Jack Robinson
In a public house, then, they both sot down
And talk'd' of admirals of high renown.
And drunk'd as much grog as come to half-a-crown,
This here strange man and Jack Robinson;
Then Jack call'd out the reck'ning to pay.
The landlady came in, in fine array.
My eyes and limbs ! why here's Polly Gray ;
Who'd of thought of meeting here ? says Jack Robinson.
The landlady stagger'd back against the wall,
And said, at first, she didn't know him at all;
Shiver me ! says Jack, why here's a pretty squall;
Dam'me, don't you know me? I'm Jack Robinson
Don't you know this handkerchief you giv'd to me?
'Twas three years ago, before I went to sea;
Every day I look'd at it, and thought of thee ;
Upon my soul I have, says Jack Robinson.;
Says the lady, says she, I've changed my state:
Why you don't mean, says Jack, that you've got a mate
You know you promis'd me - says she, I couldn't wait
For no tidings could I gain of you, Jack Robinson;
And somebody, one day, came to me, and said
That somebody else had somewhere read.
In some newspaper, as how you was dead.
I've not been dead at all, says Jack Robinson.
Then he turned his quid, finished his glass,
Hitch'd up his trowsers — alas! alas!
That ever I should live to be made such an ass,
To be bilk'd by a woman, says Jack Robinson;
But to fret and stew about it much is all in vain,
I'll get a ship and go to Holland, France and Spain;
No matter where to Portsmouth I'll ne'er come back again:
And he was off before they could say, Jack Robinson.
A number of common British sayings and nursery rhymes have their origins in Music Hall songs, and I did wonder whether the saying “before you can say Jack Robinson” came from this song. However, according to Brewer’s dictionary of phrase and fable, it was a saying in common use in the 1700s…
Jack Robinson was written and performed in the 1820s and 30s by Thomas Hudson (1791- 1844) a song-writer and performer active in the singing taverns and supper rooms that influenced the early Music Hall in London. Like many of Hudson’s songs this one survived in multiple 19th century broadsheets and songbooks. It was also a popular song in the repertoire of Robert Glindon in the 1840s, see his brief biography below… It appears in a late 19th-century songster 120 Comic Songs Sung by Sam Cowell, which seems to have been published around 15 years after Cowell’s death. I haven’t been able to find any contemporary evidence of Cowell singing the song …
Several of Hudson’s songs were remembered by traditional singers whose songs were picked up by folk song collectors in the late 19th and early 20th century. This song has been relatively widely collected in both England and Canada . For example, it was collected both by Ralph Vaughn Williams (from the singing of James Punt) and by Sabine Baring Gould (from the singing of J Radmore). It appears in the repertoire of a number of modern performers, as explored in the excellent Mainly Norfolk website
Robert Glindon (1799-1866), like Hudson, was a well-known figure in the Bohemian entertainment venues of 1840s London. By day he was a scenery painter at the Drury Ln, Theatre , and in the evenings he appeared at the Coal Hole and the Cyder Cellars and many other well-known venues. He was a songwriter as well as performer, and his best known song was The Literary Dustman.
