| Play/Download Music File John Renfro Davis |
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| The Glasgow was an Irish emigrant ship which was lost on February 14, 1837. The writer may have been the John Williams of Cootehill of the song, because legend has it the ballad was written by a Glasgow survivor. |
All you who love your native land And mean to emigrate A while draw near and you shall hear What happened of late To tell the hardships I went through Some pages it would fill When I was forced to leave my home, That place called Sweet Cootehill. John Williams is my name, This truth I'll ne'er deny; My friends they banished me away, I'll tell you the reason why - Because I would not break the vows I made unto my dear, They tore me from the arms Of my charming Sally Greer. Straight away to Liverpool My friends did me convey And in the Glasgow to New York My passage they did pay Along with Captain Robinson And sixteen of a crew We set out for America Our fortune to pursue. 'Twas on the eight of February Our gallant ship set sail Bound for the city of New York, With a sweet and pleasant gale. On the midnight of the seventh day, Before our captain went to rest He called unto his chief-mate And made him this behest. Take you charge of the vessel, And of yon rocks keep clear And beat about the Irish coast Till daylight doth appear. Our chief-mate took the orders, But he did not them obey And by neglect he let the ship Go quite out of her way. Early the following morning, About half-past four o'clock, Our gallant ship with all her might Came on a sunken rock. These rocks are called The Barrels; They're hidden from human sight; They lie abreast of Carnsore Head, And west of Tuskar Light. Men, women and children Were filled with great surprise A heart like flint it would relent To hear their dismal cries. We hoist a light from our mast-head Before it was daylight And to our joy and great surprise A schooner hove in sight. Captain Walsh gave orders Unto his seamen brave, The women and the children To strive first for to save With that the Glasgow gave a lurch, And none could her prevent, And five-and-twenty fine young men Down to the bottom went. Long life to Captain Walsh And to his seamen brave, But for his assistance We'd have met a watery grave. He landed us in Wexford town Where we were treated kind. In time of need indeed 'twas there Some warm friends we did find. In these four months four vessels Wrecked upon the watery main: The Glasgow and the Mexico, The Bristol and the Jane. And nearly a thousand passengers Lie asleep in watery graves Men who thought to settle in land That never sheltered slaves |
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| From Irish Ballads and Songs of the Sea See Bibliography for full information. |
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