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18 Apr 14 - 07:45 AM (#3619976) Subject: Lyr Req: Curse of the Somers From: GUEST,Darlodave Can anyone provide the lyrics to the above song pls, Thks |
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18 Apr 14 - 08:36 AM (#3619996) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Curse of the Somers From: GUEST You'll have to transcribe it, there are various recordings out there. |
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18 Apr 14 - 12:02 PM (#3620051) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Curse of the Somers From: Stewart From "Victory Sings at Sea - The Curse of the Somers" The Somers Curse (from The New York Times 1843) Come listen all you sailors bold, come listen unto me. I'll sing you of a cruel deed. a bloody tragedy. Come listen landsmen one and all, come listen unto me, I'll make you bless your lucky stars you've never gone to sea. It was the Somers, graceful. swift. as trim a little brig. as e' er was modeled by shipwright or sailor helped to rig. The grating's rigged, the hangman's whip dangles from main yardarm. The wondering crew gaze on the sight with terror and alarm. CHORUS: (by T. Morgan. © 1995 Skookumchuck Music) For the Captain called their names and three good men were slain No trial, no questions here, only the horror, the grief and the fear. Alas, the meaning's soon too clear, the noose is round the neck of three poor men, but men as brave as walked the Somers deck. On one side Small and Cromwell stand. bold men and sailors true. They quail not though the boldest might with such a death in view. Starboard young foolish Spencer stands. the tears are in his eye. What feelings of deep agony must through his bosom fly. Look, look your last, for hark, a gun sends forth its smoky breath. Whip instantly upon the word, their eyes are sealed in death. And sad and slow our mess mates dead, we launched into the waves, and watched them sink 'mid ocean's moans. deep in their watery graves. Strange sounds will float upon the air and in the blast will speak. and round the main yardarm three ghosts will play and dance and shriek. And ill luck and misfortune dire will follow in thy wake 'til the ghastly three. where lie their bones. thy last dark haven make. Sheet home on every cursed spar. set every rag of sail. and leave here to the ocean ghouls and demons of the gale. Cheers, S. in Seattle |
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18 Apr 14 - 12:11 PM (#3620054) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Curse of the Somers From: GUEST http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u4OPOrPvXO8 |
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18 Apr 14 - 12:44 PM (#3620064) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Curse of the Somers From: Stewart The youtube video above is from the recording by Victory Sings at Sea unfortunately that CD is no longer available Here are the liner notes from the CD THE CURSE OF THE SOMERS On September [3, 1842, the newly constructed US Brig Somers set sail from New York on her maiden training voyage with 120 midshipmen and sailors. The Somers was the first of a planned series of training ships for Naval cadets. Her captain. Alexander Mackenzie, was a cruel taskmaster, logging 43 floggings in the first three weeks alone. After two and a half months at sea, Captain Mackenzie came to believe that a mutiny was being planned by 18 year old midshipman Philip Spencer. Spencer and two seamen, Samuel Cromwell and Elijah Small, were arrested and convicted of mutiny by drumhead court martial without even a chance to testify. On December 1, 1842. all three were summarily hanged at sea. Philip Spencer was the son of John Canfield Spencer, Secretary of War of the United States. Young Spencer was also a founder of the Chi Psi Fraternity. The executions on the Somers became a national scandal. The scandal contributed to the Navy's decision to create a land based school. the U.S. Naval Academy. Herman Melville, who was a first cousin of the Somers' 2nd in command, took the inspiration for his last novel. Billy Budd, from the Somers story. Mackenzie was tried for murder by court martial. The presiding officer was his own brother-in-law. Mackenzie was cleared -barely. The Somers was said to be a cursed ship. Four years later, the Somers was assigned to the blockade of Veracruz harbor during the Mexican War. On December 8, 1846. the Somers was chasing a Mexican blockade runner when a gale struck suddenly. The Somers capsized, taking half of her officers and crew to the bottom in less than 10 minutes. Her captain, Raphael Semmes, who later was captain of the famous raider, CSS. Alabama, survived by swimming. The Somers lay in 17 fathoms of water, lost for 140 years, In 1986, an expedition led by George and Joel Belcher finally located the Somers George Belcher, wanting to share the history and discovery of the Somers, decided to produce a video documentary, The Curse of the Somers, George came to us for music for the Somers story. This album is the result of our combined efforts and includes music from the documentary soundtrack with additional music appropriate to the Somers theme. The Somers Curse (5:58) music and chorus by T Morgan, © 1995 Skookumchuck Music Lead Vocal: T Morgan; Guitar & Bass: K Kenison; Viola: J Weeks; Whistle, P. Morgan; Harmony: H Cramer, M. James, P. Morgan These verse lyrics were published anonymously in the New York Times in 1843 - The words captured the popular sentiments of outrage at the hangings and accurately prophesied the fate that awaited the Somers Cheers, S. in Seattle |
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19 Apr 14 - 01:06 AM (#3620203) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Curse of the Somers From: GUEST,Darlodave Many thanks Stewart and for the history. |
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19 Apr 14 - 05:40 PM (#3620392) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Curse of the Somers From: Stewart Here's an excellent 55-min. documentary video, with traditional music and sea chanties by Victory at Sea, on the U.S. Brig Somers by George Belcher, who with his brother Joel led the 1986 Expedition to finally locate the the Somers off the coast of Veracruz. Cheers, S. in Seattle |
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29 Oct 19 - 01:01 AM (#4015940) Subject: Lyr Add: THE SOMERS (Horser Clenling, 1843) From: Jim Dixon From the New York Herald, May 11, 1843, page 2, columns 2-3, which you can view at the Library of Congress “Chronicling America” website. I have boldfaced the verses that were omitted from the sung version posted above. I have also added some punctuation. THE SOMERS A Ballad—by Horser Clenling, Esq., Quarter Master U. States Service. Come listen, all ye sailors bold; come listen unto me. I'll sing you of a cruel deed, a bloody tragedy. Come listen, landsmen one and all; come listen unto me. I'll make you bless your lucky stars you've never gone to sea. It was the Somers, graceful, swift, as trim a little brig As e'er was modeled by shipwright or sailor helped to rig. That right before the steady Trades was she cleaving her swift way, And dashing from her glancing bows the sparkling, snowy spray. Like unto some live ocean bird, swiftly and light she breasts The up-curled watery rolling hills, and skims along their crests. Like unto some live ocean bird, she spreads her wings of snow And piles the canvas, gleaming white, on spars aloft, alow. On, on she fleetly rushes; her wake, a track of foam, Outstretching far, attests the speed with which she flies for home. Home! home! ah! what a joyful word for every seaman’s ear, But, ah! vain word! vain word! to some of that brig’s crew, I fear. Stern sounds of import, dark and dread, rise from her peopled deck. They’re not the thrilling battle cheers or shriekings of the wreck. They’re not the friendly trumpet’s hail far o’er the water’s cast, Nor boom of cannon belching forth the fierce and deadly blast. They’re not the orders, loud and hoarse, high rising o’er the gale: “Clew up! Clew down! Lay out and pass the gaskets round the sail!” They’re sounds of anguish and despair, low, mournful, dread and drear, Sighs, prayers, and inward curses, the mutterings of fear. They’re sounds that ne’er were heard before among a Yankee crew, That ne’er before disgraced a ship o’er which our bright flag flew. The grating's rigged—the hangman's whip dangles from main yardarm. The wond’ring crew gaze on the sight with terror and alarm. In doubt and fear they whisper low, scarcely above their breath: “What mean these novel sights and signs, these signs of crime and death?” Alas! the meaning's soon too clear: the noose is round the neck Of three poor men, but men as brave as walked the Somers’ deck. But what’s the cause, and what’s the crime that thus in manhood’s bloom, And without form of law, three men to such a death can doom? Alas! suspicion, hate and fear, and vanity are rife; And a poor pride, that will not count the worth of human life. A lubber’s heard a wild boy’s yarn that makes his cheek grow pale, And straightway to the quarter-deck he tells the won’drous tale. ‘Tis taken up, and for this cause, these men are doomed to die, A tale which most men would have called a weak and silly lie. On one side, Small and Cromwell stand, bold men and sailors true. They quail not, though the boldest might, with such a death in view. The meanest Yankee tar that lives will dare the ghastly foe Where bullets fly, where cutlass, pike, gives fiercely, blow for blow. Amid the flashing cannon’s roar, when hand to hand we board, But, ah! ‘tis different far to face the hangman’s cruel cord. Starboard young foolish Spencer stands; the tears are in his eye. What feelings of deep agony must through his bosom fly! He thinks of home, his father, friends, his mother’s fond caress. He thinks of all the hopes and fears that promised life to bless. He thinks, too, of his comrades bold, doomed by his idle tales, And their dread fate more than his own he bitterly bewails. The whips are manned; with pistol raised, the first Luff bravely stands To guard that on the murd’rous ropes are laid unwilling hands. Now, doomed men, look your last on life; look on the gathered crew. Look on the bounding joyous brig; look o’er the waters blue. Look on the fleecy floating clouds; look on the sun’s calm light. Look on that banner waving free, emblem of law and right. Look! look your last! for hark! a gun sends forth its smoky breath. “Whip!”—instantly upon the word, their eyes are sealed in death. The deed is done! that cruel deed—“Three cheers” the captain cries, “Three cheers” for that dark blood-striped flag that o’er us mocking flies. “Pipe down! Pipe down!” the captain cries. “’Tis dinner time o’day, That over in their ocean tombs these corpses we will lay.” And sad and slow our messmates dead we launched into the waves, And watched them sink 'mid ocean's moans, deep in their watery graves. O’er them the winds a requiem sing; deep mournful sounds the blast And shriller hiss the curling waves as homeward we sped fast. Our brig flies like some guilty thing; faster, more fast she flies From where the blood of murdered men from the deep ocean cries. In vain! In vain! Thou can’st escape, fatal perfidious bark! The stains of blood are on thy deck; thy freight is curses dark! And other hands than flesh and blood thou numberest ‘mongst thy crew And a ghostly “mess” thou’lt always bear across the ocean blue. And not alone by mortal hands will be, when howls night’s blast, Thy reef points knotted, earrings hauled, or mainyard gaskets passed. No! often on that gallows spar the yardsmen brave will quail In the midnight watch at figures three, unearthly—fleshless—pale. Strange sounds will float upon the air and in the blast will speak, And round the main yardarms, three ghosts will play and dance and shriek! And ill luck and misfortune dire will follow in thy wake Till the ghastly three, where lie their bones, thy last dark haven make. Oh! better far to yield her then at once unto the dead Than keep the bloody cursed craft, an honest seaman’s dread! Take—take her far away from land, her rudder lash midship; From every yardarm, fore and main, let hang the murderous whip. Sheet home on every cursed spar; set every rag of sail, And leave here to the ocean ghouls and demons of the gale! [ See Wikipedia.] |