John M. wrote:

Here is an entry from 1886, by Robert C. Leslie, entitled SEA PAINTER'S LOG. There are two mentions about maritime work songs. The first has to do with fishermen hauling their boats ashore with the use of a capstan. Here is the link (p. 174):...

In the second reference on page 242, Leslie discusses some specific chanties and gives us the words for: "A Hundred Years Ago", "Storm Along, Stormy", and "Good Morning, Ladies All." ...

Here, Leslie is recollecting an earlier time about the "old Black X sailing-liners", who were "notable for their musical crews".

And here are the texts:

p174
//
Then from midnight and on through the small hours of morning, the beach is lively with the song of the men hauling the boats up from the wash of the sea; after which a steady tramp, tramp round the capstan brings them slowly but surely above highwater mark.
//

p242
//
An Old Sea Song.

Years ago, when the (little) Great Western was fighting an almost solitary battle of steam versus sail power upon the Atlantic, the old Black X sailing liners were notable for their musical crews; and capstan songs, as they were called, always came rolling aft from a liner's forecastle, as the men tramped round winding in the warp that was slowly moving her out of dock (all done now by rattling, whizzing, steam-winch power). I recollect the airs of many of these songs; but the words, except the choruses, were hard to catch; and some of these were coarse, or not worth much when caught. The following was written down as a very superior piece of poetry; and it was sung by a fellow of most "comly making."

Solo. Late one evening as I vas a valking,
Chorus, all. Oh, ho, yes—Oho.
So. O there I heard a loving couple talking:
Ch. A hundered years ago.

So. It was a serious good old woman,
And she vas a saying of things not common,

She vas a saying unto her darter,
O mind, then, vords o' mine herearter,

Red-nosed men frequent the ale-'ouse,
Sandy-'aired men are always jailous,

The fat will coax, the lean will flatter,
O marry none of them, my darter,

So. But marry a man of a comly making,
Ch. Oh, ho, yes—Oho.
So. For in him there's no mistaking:
Ch. A hundered years ago.

So. In so doing of w'ich you'll please me,
Ch. Oh, ho, yes—Oho.
So. And so of my troubles ease me:
Ch. A hundered years ago.

But long before the song reached this point it was usually cut short by the mate singing out, "Vast heaving there for'ard; out bars and lay aft some of ye," &c. Then soon a fresh song would burst from another part of the ship, perhaps the following wild kind of thing:—

So. Oh, poor old Starmy's dead and gone.
Ch. Starm along, boys—Starm along.
So. Oh, poor old Starmy's dead and gone.
Ch. Starm along, Starmy.

So. I dug his grave with a silver spade—
Ch. Carry him along, boys, carry him along.
So. I lowered him down with a golden chain—
Ch. Carry him along, boys, carry him along.

So. We carried him along to London town—
Ch. Starm along, boys—Starm along.
So. We carried him away to Mobille Bay,
Ch. Starm along, Starmy.

Or, just as the ship was passing the dock-gates, this favourite chorus to a very lovely air, which I am sorry I cannot give with it:—

So. Now we're outward bound from London town,
Ch. With a heave oh—haul.
So. With a last farewell and a long farewell.
Ch. And good morning, ladies all—
But we're homeward bound to New York town.
With a heave oh—haul.
And it's there we'll sing and sorrow drown,
Good morning, ladies all.
//

tags: HUNDRED YEARS, STORMY, GOOD MORNING LADIES