The Jolly Sailor's True Description of a Man-of-War

When first on board of a man-of-war
We go, whether by press or enter,
And alongside of our ship we come,
We boldly in her venture.
Such twigging then at we fresh men.
'They're clever fellows,' some say,
While the buffers stand with their rattans,
Crying, ' Keep down out of the gang way.'

Then aft upon the quarter-deck
We go, it being common;
Our officers examine us, to know
Who and who are seamen;
There's some are seamen, some, are freemen,
Some one thing, some another:
Then we down below on the main deck go,
Boys, after one another.

Next to old Trinculo we go
For an order to get our hammocks,
Then aft again and down amain,
Not forgetting our stomachs.
The steward pens, he takes our names,
And tells us to our messes;
But nipping there they can't forbear,
For the Devil them possesses.

Then up again upon the deck,
So briskly, boys, we bundle ;
Since we have secur'd our pack,
We have no cause to grumble.
Then we clap on what we heave upon,
Some piping, others singing :
There's hoist away, likewise belay.
Thus we make a beginning.

When once our ship has got all in,
And nothing now neglected,
To think of sea we do begin,
Our orders soon expected.
Then with a career we get all clear,
In readiness for unmooring,
Boats alongside with wind and tide
To carry the women ashore in.

'All hands, unmoor,' the boatswain calls,
And he pipes at every hatchway;
If you Tom Cockswain's traverse tip him
Take care he don't catch you ;
For without a doubt, if he finds you out,
You may be sure within you,
Over face and eyes, to your surprise
He'll arm you without mercy.

The capstan is already mann'd.
Shall we hear the boatswain hollow ?
Sometimes he is listening at a stand
To hear the answers follow.
We have not brought to, there's such ado,
While some are calling the swabbers.
Now heave away without delay,
Boys, hold on the nippers.

The boatswain and his mates are piping,
Crying, ' Men, have a rally,'
And often forward they are piking
To have a rout in the galley.
' What are you about? Away with us out.'
To leave our victuals we abhor it;
With cuffs and knocks leave kettles and pots,
And the Devil cuff them for it.

'Heave and in sight, men, heave away,'
From forward the boatswain is calling ;
'Heave a turn or two without delay;
Stand by the capstan for pealing.'
Then one and all to the catt do fall;
We haul both strong and able,
Till presently from forward they cry,
'Below, stick out the cable.'

We cast our anchors then with speed,
And nimbly press the stoppers,
Then next to fish it we proceed,
Our shank-painter so proper,
Which we do pass securely fast,
And lap well on a seizing.
Our anchors, be sure, can't be too secure ;
It stands to sense and reason.

When once our ship she is unmoor'd
Our swelling sails so neatly,
With fore-tack and main-tack also,
Our sheets haul'd aft completely,
Then away we sail with a fresh gale,
On a voyage or on a station.
Like English hearts we'll play our parts
In defence of the English nation.

The best cry we like to hear
On board, as I'm a sinner,
Is when from the quarter-deck they call
To the boatswain to pipe to dinner.
Such crowding then among the men :
Some grumble, others jangle ;
You're nobody there without you swear
And boldly stand the wrangle.

There's green-horn fellows some on board
Before ne'er saw salt water ;
When come to sea, upon my word,
The case with them does alter.
They better know how to follow the plow,
With good fat bacon and cabbage;
When sea-sick took like death they look,
Ready to bring up guts and garbage.

When stormy winds begin to blow
Our ship is in great motion;
To carry our victuals safe down below
It requires a good notion.
We often fall down the hatchway with all,
From the top to the bottom sprawling;
Such laughing then among the men,
And loudly the butcher calling.

There are snotty boys of midshipmen
Han't done yet shitting yellow ;
As to their age, some hardly ten
Strike many a brave fellow,
Who dare not prate at any rate,
Nor seem in the least to mumble;
They'll frap you still, do what you will;
It is but a folly to grumble.

Now to conclude and make an end
In a full flowing brimmer ;
Let every one drink to his friend;
The bowl it seems to look thinner.
We'll drink again, like sons of men,
And drink bad luck to the purser ;
He cheats us with ease of our oatmeal and pease :
Such rogues there can't be worser.