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The Poacher's Fate

from The Poacher's Fate by Laura Smyth & Ted Kemp

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about

Poachers are often seen as working class heroes, but in many instances poaching was done out of desperation and fraught with danger. This song was collected by Peter Kennedy from Becket Whitehead in Delph, Saddleworth, and we supplemented some lyrics from a Manchester broadside. We decided to repeat the first verse at the end to show that despite the outcome, the spirit of the poachers hadn't been broken.

lyrics

Come all you lads of high renown that love to drink strong ale that's brown
We'll bring those lofty pheasants down with powder, shot, and gun

I and five more a poaching went to kill some game was our intent
As through the woods we gaily went no other sport we'd try
And the moon shone bright not a cloud in sight
The keeper heard us fire our gun and to the spot did quickly run
He swore before the rising sun that one of us should die

The bravest youth amongst our lot t'was his misfortune to be shot
His deeds will never be forgot by those he loved below
He was a gallant youth I will tell the truth
His memory ever shall be blessed he rose again to stand the test
But down upon his gallant breast the crimson blood did flow

This youth he sank upon the ground and in his breast a mortal wound
While through the woods the guns did sound that took his life away
For help he cried But was denied
Deep was the wound the keeper gave no mortal man his life could save
He now lies sleeping in his grave until his judgement day

His case it makes the heart lament, our comrades all to gaol were sent
Our enemies seemed fully bent that there we would remain
But fortune changed her mind and to us proved kind
No more locked up in midnight cells to hear the turnkey boast their bells
Those clanging doors we'll bid farewell and the rattling of the chains

The murderous hand that did him kill and on the ground his blood did spill
Must wander e're against his will and find no resting place
Destructive things his conscience stings
Condemned to wander all forlorn and ever feel the smarting thorn
Be pointed out with the finger of scorn condemned for to die

Come all you lads of high renown that love to drink strong ale that's brown
We'll bring those lofty pheasants down with powder, shot, and gun

credits

from The Poacher's Fate, released November 25, 2017
Trad. arr. Laura Smyth & Ted Kemp

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