Another well-known literary tarring & feathering is "Skipper Ireson's Ride" by John Greenleaf Whittier. As it is often sung, it surely belongs here. However, according to a character in _Captains Courageous_ by Rudyard Kipling, the story as told by Whittier is a libel; so in fairness I am including his correction here as well:

SKIPPER IRESON'S RIDE

by John Greenleaf Whittier

Of all the rides since the birth of time,
Told in story or sung in rhyme, --
On Apuleius's Golden Ass,
Or one-eyed Calendar's horse of brass,
Witch astride of a human hack,
Islam's prophet on Al-Borak, --
The strangest ride that ever was sped
Was Ireson's, out from Marblehead!
Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart,
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart
    By the women of Marblehead!

Body of turkey, head of owl,
Wings a-droop like a rained-on fowl,
Feathered and ruffled in every part,
Skipper Ireson stood in the cart.
Scores of women, old and young,
Strong of muscle, and glib of tongue,
Pushed and pulled up the rocky lane,
Shouting and singing the shrill refrain:
"Here's Flud Oirson, fur his horrd horrt,
Torr'd an' futherr'd an' corr'd in a corrt
    By the women o' Morble'ead!"

Wrinkled scolds with hands on hips,
Girls in bloom of cheek and lips,
Wild-eyed, free-limbed, such as chase
Bacchus round some antique vase,
Brief of skirt, with ankles bare,
Loose of kerchief and loose of hair,
With conch-shells blowing and fish-horns' twang,
Over and over the Maenads sang:
"Here's Flud Oirson, fur his horrd horrt,
Torr'd an' futherr'd an' corr'd in a corrt
    By the women o' Morble'ead!"

Small pity for him! -- He sailed away
From a leaking ship, in Chaleur Bay, --
Sailed away from a sinking wreck,
With his own town's-people on her deck!
"Lay by! Lay by!" they called to him.
Back he answered, "Sink or swim!
Brag of your catch of fish again!"
And off he sailed through the fog and rain!
Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart,
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart
    By the women of Marblehead!

Fathoms deep in dark Chaleur
That wreck shall lie forevermore.
Mother and sister, wife and maid,
Looked from the rocks of Marblehead
Over the moaning and rainy sea, --
Looked for the coming that might not be!
What did the winds and the sea-birds say
Of the cruel captain who sailed away? --
Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart,
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart
    By the women of Marblehead!

Through the street, on either side,
Up flew windows, doors swung wide;
Sharp-tongued spinsters, old wives gray,
Treble lent the fish-horn's bray.
Sea-worn grandsires, cripple-bound,
Hulks of old sailors run aground,
Shook head, and fist, and hat, and cane,
And cracked with curses the hoarse refrain:
"Here's Flud Oirson, fur his horrd horrt,
Torr'd an' futherr'd an' corr'd in a corrt
    By the women o' Morble'ead!"

Sweetly along the Salem road
Bloom of orchard and lilac showed.
Little the wicked skipper knew
Of the fields so green and the sky so blue.
Riding there in his sorry trim,
Like an Indian idol glum and grim,
Scarcely he seemed the sound to hear
Of voices shouting, far and near:
"Here's Flud Oirson, fur his horrd horrt,
Torr'd an' futherr'd an' corr'd in a corrt
    By the women o' Morble'ead!"

"Hear me, neighbors!" at last he cried, --
"What to me is this noisy ride?
What is the shame that clothes the skin
To the nameless horror that lives within?
Waking or sleeping, I see a wreck,
And hear a cry from a reeling deck!
Hate me and curse me, -- I only dread
The hand of God and the face of the dead!"
Said old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart,
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart
    By the women of Marblehead!

Then the wife of the skipper lost at sea
Said, "God has touched him! why should we?"
Said an old wife mourning her only son,
"Cut the rogue's tether and let him run!"
So with soft relentings and rude excuse,
Half scorn, half pity they cut him loose,
And gave him a cloak to hide him in,
And left him alone with his shame and sin.
Poor Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart,
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart
    By the women of Marblehead!

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From _Captains Courageous_ by Rudyard Kipling:

...Then they called on Harvey, who felt very flattered, to contribute
to the entertainment; but all that he could remember were some pieces
of "Skipper Ireson's Ride" that he had been taught at the camp-school
in the Adirondacks. It seemed that they might be appropriate to the
time and place, but he had no more than mentioned the title when Disko
brought down one foot with a bang, and cried, "Don't go on, young
feller. That's a mistaken jedgment -- one o' the worst kind, too,
becaze it's catchin' to the ear."

"I orter ha' warned you," said Dan. "Thet allus fetches Dad."

"What's wrong?" said Harvey, surprised and a little angry.

"All you're goin' to say," said Disko. "All dead wrong from start
to finish, and Whittier he's to blame. I have no special call to right any Marblehead man, but 'tweren't no fault of Ireson's. My father he told me the tale time an' again, an' this is the way 'twuz."

"For the wan hundredth time," put in Long Jack under his breath.

"Ben Ireson he was skipper o' the _Betty_, young feller, comin' home
from the Banks -- that was before the war of 1812, but jestice is
jestice at all times. They f'und the _Active_ o' Portland, an'
Gibbons o' that town he was her skipper; they f'und her leakin' off
Cape Cod Light. There was a terr'ble gale on, an' they was gettin'
the _Betty_ home fast as they could craowd her. Well, Ireson he said
there warn't any sense to reskin' a boat in that sea; the men they
wouldn't hev it; and he laid it before them to stay by the _Active_
till the sea run daown a piece. They wouldn't hev that either,
hangin' araound the Cape in any sech weather, leak or no leak. They
jest up stays'l an' quit, nat'rally takin' Ireson with 'em. Folks to
Marblehead was mad at him for not runnin' the risk, and becaze nex'
day, when the sea was ca'am (they never stopped to think o' _that_),
some of the _Active's_ folks was took off by a Truro man. They come
into Marblehead with their own tale to tell, sayin' how Ireson had
shamed his town, an' so forth an' so on; an' Ireson's men they was
scared, seein' public feelin' agin' 'em, an' they went back on Ireson,
an' swore he was respons'ble for the hull act. 'Tweren't the women
neither that tarred and feathered him -- Marblehead women don't act
that way -- 'twas a passel o' men an' boys, an' they carted him
araound town in an old dory till the bottom fell aout, and Ireson he
told 'em they'd be sorry for it some day. Well, the facts come aout
later, same's they usually do, too late to be any way useful to an
honest man; and Whittier he come along an' picked up the slack eend of
a lyin' tale, an' tarred and feathered Ben Ireson all over onct more
after he was dead. 'Twas the only time Whittier ever slipped up, an'
'tweren't fair. I whaled Dan good when he brought that piece back
from school. _You_ don't know no better, o' course; but I've give you
the facts, hereafter an' evermore to be remembered. Ben Ireson
were'nt no sech kind o' man as Whittier makes aout; my father he knew
him well, before an' after that business, an' you beware o' hasty
jedgments, young feller. Next!"

Harvey had never heard Disko talk so long, and collapsed with
burning cheeks; but, as Dan said promptly, a boy could only learn what
he was taught at school, and life was too short to keep track of every
lie along the coast.