Lyr. Add: VAN DIEMAN'S LAND
Broadsides, c, 1830-1840

Come al you gallant poachers that ramble void of care,
That walk out on moonlight nights with your dog and your gun,
The lofty hares and pheasants you have at your command,
Not thinking of your last career upon Van Dieman's Land.

Poor Tom Brown from Nottingham, Jack Williams and Poor Joe,
We are three daring poachers the country does well know,
At night we were trepann'd by the keepers in the sand,
Who for fourteen years transported us unto Van Dieman's Land.

The first day that we landed upon that fatal shore,
The planters they came round us, full twenty score or more,
They rank'd us up like horses and sold us out of hand,
They yoked us unto ploughs, my boys, to plow Van Dieman's Land.

Our cottages that we lived in were built of clods of clay,
And rotten straw for bedding and we dare not say nay,
Our cots were fenc'd with fire, we slumber when we can,
To drive away wolves and tigers, upon Van Dieman's Land.

Its often when I slumber I have a pleasant dream,
With my sweet girl a sitting down by a purling stream,
Through England I've been roaming with her at command,
Now I awaken broken hearted, upon Van Dieman's Land.

God bless our wives and families, likewise the happy shore,
That isle of sweet contentment which I shall see no more,
As for our wretched females, see them we seldom can,
There's twenty to one woman , upon Van Dieman's Land.

There was a girl from Birmingham, Susan Summers was her name,
For fourteen years transported, we all well know the same,
Our planter bought her freedom, and married her out of hand,
She gave to us good usage upon Van Dieman's Land.

So all young gallant poachers give ear unto my song,
It is a bit of good advice although it is not long,
Throw by your dogs and snares, for to you I speak plain,
For if you knew out hardships you'd never poach again.

Firth C.17 (41), Bodleian Collection, and Harding B 11(1808), among others. The earliest are c. 1830-1840.