G'day again Kat & Sandra,

I must have posted Bunch of Damned Whores before (I have it in my "Songs" folder in Mudcat html!). The story that caught Ted's eye was of the Class 3 ('intractable') convict women at the Cascades Female factory - during religious service attended by the Governor Lord Franklin along with Lady Franklin - getting upset at a long and tedious haranguing sermon by the Anglican Chaplain. Their response was to hoist their skirt and exppse the bare buttocks to him.

It's recorded that the Governor and his Lady were more amused and sympathetic than the Chaplain ... they were suffering the same. Anyway, Ted took the core idea and expanded it to an anthem for the repressed convict women.

Bunch of Damned Whores
Words & Music: Ted Egan

We're a bunch of damned whores and we never wear drawers,
And they say we're the cause of dissension,
But none of your fuss, before you judge us -
There's a few things that we'd like to mention.

Cockney:
Me name's Molly Brown and the beak sent me down,
For nickin' a gentleman's watch in the Strand.
So I'm sailin' away, from Southampton today -
Transported for life to Van Diemen's Land.
So if I'm one of them whores and I never wear drawers,
It's simply that I can't afford 'em,
But it seems plain to me that the English gentry-
Is the baskets what causes the whoredom.
We're a bunch of damned whores and we never wear drawers,
And they say we're the cause of dissension,
But none of your fuss, before you judge us -
There's a few things that we'd like to mention.

Scots:
I'm Morag MacDonald, born in the Gorbals
And raised in the brothels since I was aged ten
And now I'm transported, for life, for me sins
- And they've handed me over to the Government men.
I wonder how just it all is for I must now
Submit to the evils of this cruel lot.
They'll flog us and rape us and tell us we're evil,
But they are the sinners - we're not!
We're a bunch of damned whores and we never wear drawers,
And they say we're the cause of dissension,
But none of your fuss, before you judge us -
There's a few things that we'd like to mention.

Irish:
I'm Bridgid O'Rourke and I'm from County Cork -
I'm a prisoner for life, just for stealing a sheep,
To feed me old parents, who were squealing with hunger
Oh! Jesus, these times are so hard I could weep
For I'm here in the Factory - out at Parramatta
And I'm sold to the soldiers and guards,
By a dirty old harlot, who takes all the money
And spends it on liquor and cards.
We're a bunch of damned whores and we never wear drawers,
And they say we're the cause of dissension,
But none of your fuss, before you judge us -
There's a few things that we'd like to mention.

Welsh:
My name's Megan Rhys I got nabbed by the police,
In the back streets of Cardiff for pinching a dress.
I'm only eighteen and I've been treated mean
My life's been a story of unhappiness.
Drummed out of my Parish for having a child,
Whose father was killed in the war -
I was driven to vice - so, "Twill d pob saes"
It's the system what made me a whore
We're a bunch of damned whores and we never wear drawers,
And they say we're the cause of dissension,
But none of your fuss, before you judge us -
There's a few things that we'd like to mention.

So lift up your skirts, girls, and show your bare bums
And slap on your buttocks, me whorey old chums.
Let's show 'em we know 'em, for just what they are.
They're the world's greatest bastards by far!
We're a bunch of damned whores and we never wear drawers,
And they say we're the cause of dissension,
But none of your fuss, before you judge us -
There's a few things that we'd like to mention.

(Reprise:)
We're a bunch of damned whores and we never wear drawers,
And they say we're the cause of dissension,
But none of your fuss, before you judge us ? (pause):
? There's a few things that we'd like to mention.

Judy Small's song is about her distant ancestress - Mary Small (neé 쳌arker).

Mary Parker's Lament
Judy Small

There's a little more grey in my hair nowadays,
As I sit here watching my grandchildren play
And I wonder if they have the faintest idea
Of the life that their grandmother knew.

It's oh and alas for you Mary my girl,
To be torn from the life you knew half round the world
And never again to see home.

It was back in the eighties, a younger girl then,
With auburn hair flashing, I'd walk with my man
And he'd tell me the places he'd take me to see -
If only that he had the means.

But then I was with child and I saw him no more.
In the pain of our parting I thought I should die
And I stole from my master some blankets and cloth,
Just to keep me and baby alive.

But 'twas all for nought for the baby he died.
It felt like a part of me perished inside
And for stealing I was sent as a transport to sea,
Never knowing for where I was bound.

It's oh and alas for you Mary my girl,
To be torn from the life you knew half round the world
And never again to see home.

Seven long years was the sentence I bore.
It felt like a lifetime as I came ashore
And I wept when I saw the life waiting for me -
As a chattel, a slave and a whore.

So I married a convict, the safer to be,
From the soldiers and the freed men who chased after me,
And for seven long years we did work for our keep
Ever dreaming of England and home.

And the children I bore were the joy of my days.
I longed for my mother to see them at play
And our hands grew rough from the scrubbing and dirt
And the sun turned our fair skins to brown.

Then on ticket of leave we were granted some land
And worked it and ploughed it by sweat of our hands -
And forgot about England except in our dreams
And called New South Wales our true home.

And now here I sit watching my grandchildren play
And looking back over the length of my days
And it's clear in my mind is the Plymouth I knew
And I weep for my mother again.

It's oh and alas for you Mary my girl,
To be torn from the life you knew half round the world
And never again to see home.

Mary was one of the multitude of English poor caught up with poverty and betrayal - who knuckled down under the oppressive convict regime of early New South Wales, did as well as the system permitted ... and founded a line of Australians prepared to 'buck the system' when warranted and work for a better country.

It's a pity that none of them are represented in our State and Federal Parliaments as our Prime Minister eagerly lines up to join the American fight against democracy ... as long as he gets his Davy Crockett hat!

Regards,

Bob