Lyr. Add: YOUNG HENRY THE POACHER
1819-1844; J. Pitts London

Come all you wild and wicked youths, wherever you may be,
I pray you give attention and listen unto me,
The fate of us poor transports as you shall understand,
The hardships that we undergo upon Van Diemen's Land.
Chorus
Young men, all now beware,
Lest you are drawn into a snare.

My parents rear'd me tenderly, good leaning gave to me,
Till by bad company was beguil'd which prov'd my destiny.
I was brought up in Warwickshire, near Southam town did dwell,
My name it is young Henry in Harbourn known full well.

Me and five more went out one night into Squire Dunhill's Park,
To see if we could get some game(1) the night it proved dark.
But to our great misfortune they trepanned(2) us with speed
And sent us off to Warwick jail which made our hearts to bleed.

It was at the March Assizes to the bar we did repair,
Like Job we stood with patience to hear our sentence there;
There being some old offenders, which made our case go hard,
My sentence was for fourteen years, then I was sent on board.

The ship that bore us from the land the Speedwell was by name.
For full five months and upwards boys, we plowed the raging main;
Neither land nor harbour could we see believe it is no lie,
All around us one black water boys above us one blue sky;

I often look'd behind me, towards my native shore,(3)
That cottage of contentment which we shall see no more;
Nor yet my own dear father who tore his hoary hair,
Likewise my tender mother the womb that did me bear.

The fifteenth of September 'twas then we made the land,
At four o'clock we went on shore all chained hand in hand;
To see our fellow-sufferers we felt I can't tell how,
Some chain'd unto a harrow, and others to a plough.

No shoes or stockings they had on, nor hat had they to wear,
But a leathern frock and linsey drawers their feet and heads were bare;
They chained them up by two and two like horses in a team,
Their driver he stood over them, with his Malackey(4) cane.

Then I was marched to Sydney town without any more delay,
Where a gentleman he bought me his book-keeper to be;
I took this occupation my master lik'd me well,
My joys were out of measure, and I'm sure no one can tell.

We had a female servant, Rosanna was her name,
For fourteen years a convict was from Wolverhampton came,
We often told our tales of love when we were blest at home,
But now we're rattling of our chains in foreign lands to roam.

Bodleian Library, Firth c.19(62), J. Pitts (London) c.1819-1844.
(1) mistaken as 'fame' in the DT. (3)verse omitted in DT. (4)Malacca.
(2)Trepan, trapan, treppan, trappan. To ensnare, entrap, beguile. OED. Obsolete.