This cheery riot of gore is wedded to the most plaintive of tunes, and is immortalized by Masefield in his 'Sailor's Garland.' Nowadays one occasionally meets unhumorous longshore sailormen who endeavour to temper its fury to the shorn landsman by palming off a final verse, which gives one to understand that the previous stanzas have been only 'Johnny's' little fun, and which makes him bleat:
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'They said I hanged for money, But I never hanged nobody.' |
I also possess a shanty collection where the words have so clearly shocked the editor that he has composed an entirely fresh set. These exhibit 'Johnny' as a spotless moralist, who would never really hang his parents, but would only operate (in a Pickwickian sense of course) on naughty and unworthy people:
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'I'd hang a noted liar, I'd hang a bloated friar. 'I'd hang a brutal mother, I'd hang her and no other. 'I'd hang to make things jolly, I'd hang all wrong and folly.' |
Imagine a shantyman (farceur as he ever was) making for edification in that style!
[20. HILO SOMEBODY]
This is another of the shanties I learnt as a boy from Blyth sailors, and which has never been printed before. I fancy that 'blackbird' and 'crew' must be a perversion of 'blackbird and crow,' as the latter figure of speech occurs in other shanties.
[21. OH, RUN, LET THE BULLGINE RUN]
The reference to the 'Bullgine' seems to suggest Transatlantic origin. There were endless verses, but no attempt at narrative beyond a recital of the names of places from which and to which they were 'running.' This version was sung to me by Mr. F.B. Mayoss, a seaman who sailed in the old China Clippers.