Lyr. Add: THE FLYING CLOUD

Come all ye rambling sailor boys, take a warning here from me,
I'm bound in heavy irons strong for the crime of piracy;
With eighteen more I am condemmed in sorrow to complain,
For plundering and burning ships down on the Spanish Main.

When I was young and innocent, my heart it knew no guile,
In a happy home I lived content, my parents on me did smile,
But drinking and bad company have made a wreck of me.
Take warning all by my downfall and beware of piracy.

My name is Henry Anderson as you might understand,
Born in the town of Waterford in Erin's lovely land;
My parents reared me tenderly in the fear of God likewise,
They little thought I'd die in scorn 'neath Cuba's sunny skies.

My father bound me to a trade in Waterford's dear town,
He bound me to a cooper whose name was William Brown.
I served my master faithfully for eighteen months or more,
I shipped on board the Ocean Queen bound for Valparaiso's alien shore.

It happened in Valparaiso that we met one Captain More,
He commanded the clipper Flying Cloud sailed out of Baltimore.
The Flying Cloud was a clipper ship of eight hundred tons or more,
She could easily sail around any ship sailing out of Baltimore.

The canvasses white as the driven snow, on eight there was no stake,
Those seventy five brass mounted guns she carried on her deck,
Her iron chests and magazines were safely stored below;
She had a Long Tom between her spars on a pivot inked in gold.

I shipped on board the Flying Cloud on a slaving voyage to go,
To the bonny shores of Africa where sugar canes do grow,
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And in a short time after we reached the African shore,
Five hundred of those proud Africans from homes and friends we tore;
We brought them boldly to the ship and stored them down below,
And eighteen inches to a man was all they had to stow.

And in a short while after we reached the Arabian shore,
We sold them to the planters there as slaves forever more,
To toil in the rice- and sugar-fields beneath the burning sun,
And to wear away their weary lives till their courage was won.

And when our money was all spent we came on board again;
Captain More then called us all on deck and said to us, "My men,
There's gold in plenty to be had forever on the Main,
If you'll agree and come with me I'll tell you how it's gained."

"When we have the fastest sailing ship that ever crossed the seas,
Or ever frayed a main topsail into a heavy breeze."
And then he cried, "My bully boys, 'tis with me you'll remain,
We'll fly aloft the pirate flag and scour the Spanish Main."

They all agreed except five brave lads who told them to land,
And two of them were Boston boys, two more from Newfoundland,
The other was an Irisnman belonging to Tramore.
I wished to God I'd joined them now and landed safe on shore.

We robbed and plundered manys a ship down on the Spanish Main,
Caused many a widow and orphan child in sorrow to complain;
We made their crews all walk the plank we held all o'er the rail,
The saying of our captain was, 'dead men tell no tales.'

We were often chased by men-o'war and English skippers too,
But to over-haul our goodly ship was more than they could do,
Always in vain astern of us their cannon roared so loud,
But none of them by any means could match the Flying Cloud.

At length a Spanish man-o'war the Sanvo hove in view,
She fired a shot across our bows, a signal to heave to;
But we paid no attention but ran with the wind
A main shot struck our mizzen mast and we soon fell behind.

We cleared our decks for action as she ranged up 'long side,
And soon along her quarterdeck there ran a crimson tide,
We fought till Captain More was killed and eighty of his men,
A bombshell set our ship on fire, we had to surrender then.

Prisoners we were taken and into prison cast,
Tried and found guilty and to be hanged at last.
See what I have come to by my unlucky hand,
For it's on the gallows I must die by the laws of the Spanish land.

So fare you well sweet Waterford town, and the girl I loved most dear,
Your voice like music soft and sweet I never more will hear,
No more to kiss your ruby lips or press your lily-white hand,
For it's on the gallows I must die by the laws of the Spanish land.

Kenneth Peacock, 1965, "Songs of the Newfoundland Outports," Vol. 3, pp. 842-845. Sung by Howard Morrey, Ferryland, Nfld., 1951. Sheet music shown.
Another fragment, with a "superior" tune, is shown, sung by Mrs. Mary Ann Galpin, Codroy, Nfld., 1961.

I've often seen that clipper ship, when the wind it blew a gale,
With her top-sails and garn-sails set aloft taking sixteen from the rail.
We were ofttimes chased by men-of-war, frigates and miners too,
But to overhaul that Flying Cloud it was more than they could do.