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Title: Henry Martyn
Author: Frank Sidgwick [
More Titles by Sidgwick]
The Text is from a copy taken down from North Devon tradition by the Rev. S. Baring Gould, and printed by Child; since when other versions have been found still in circulation in England. A Sussex version, though perhaps derived from a Catnach broadside, is given in the Journal of the Folk-Song Society, vol. i. 162.
The Story.--This ballad is undoubtedly a degenerate version of the preceding, Sir Andrew Barton, of which name, as Child says, Henry Martyn would be no extraordinary corruption. It is given here as an instance of the fate which awaits a popular ballad in the process of being sung to pieces.
HENRY MARTYN
1.
In merry Scotland, in merry Scotland
There lived brothers three;
They all did cast lots which of them should go
A robbing upon the salt sea.
2.
The lot it fell on Henry Martyn,
The youngest of the three;
That he should go rob on the salt, salt sea
To maintain his brothers and he.
3.
He had not a-sailed a long winter's night,
Nor yet a short winter's day,
Before that he met with a lofty old ship,
Come sailing along that way.
4.
O when she came by Henry Martyn;
'I prithee now, let us go!'
'O no, God wot! that, that will I not,
O that will I never do.
5.
'Stand off, stand off!' said Henry Martyn,
'For you shall not pass by me;
For I am a robber all on the salt seas,
To maintain us brothers three.
6.
'How far, how far,' cries Henry Martyn,
'How far do you make it?' said he;
'For I am a robber all on the salt seas,
To maintain us brothers three.'
7.
For three long hours they merrily fought,
For hours they fought full three;
At last a deep wound got Henry Martyn,
And down by the mast fell he.
8.
'Twas broadside to a broadside then,
And a rain and hail of blows,
But the salt sea ran in, ran in, ran in,
To the bottom then she goes.
9.
Bad news, bad news for old England,
Bad news has come to the town,
For a rich merchant's vessel is cast away,
And all her brave seamen drown.
10.
Bad news, bad news through London Street,
Bad news has come to the king,
For all the brave lives of the mariners lost,
That are sunk in the watery main.
[The end]
Frank Sidgwick's poem: Henry Martyn
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