It was on Easter Monday, in ’Seventy-six,
In Freemantle the jailers were all in a fix,
From Fauntleroy,[1] down to Amen-timbertoe,[2]
There was racing and chasing and bother, you know,
For the Fenians had sliddered[3]
right off in a row;
But what’s that to any one, whether or no?
Oh! Wilson and Cranston and Hogan are gone,
With Darragh and Hassett and staunch Harrington;
For Collins and Johnston have opened the ball,
And to join in the dancing, out step Jones and Hall,
And they tripped to a tune that was far from being slow;
But what’s that to any one, whether or no?
[Pg 6]
Cops,[4]
warders and soldiers are running a race
And the mounted policemen prepare to give chase;
In the pensioner’s barracks the trumpet did blow,
And old Finnerty’s[5]
bugle was purple, I know;
But the boys know their road, and are bound for to go;
So what’s that to any one, whether or no?
There are two trotting teams on the Rockingham road,
From the gloom of a prison each bearing its load,
And full hearts are beating with freedom and joy,
As they sweep ’round the sand hills and through the Blackboy.
With the sunlight of Hope every face is aglow;
But what’s that to any one, whether or no?
On, on through the bush, as they ride to the beach,
In vain for his captives may Robinson[6]
screech,
And Harvest[7]
may swagger to cover his fears
As they drag out the guns of the Perth volunteers;
But the Fenians are off; they may puff, pant and blow;
For what’s that to any one, whether or no?
Near Rockingham jetty, upon the white sand,
With revolvers and rifles the Fenians stand—
Gay, fearless and free, stepping into their boat;
Shove her off! then out oars! on the waters afloat!
Now a right saucy Yankee tar takes them in tow;
And what’s that to any one, whether or no?
[Pg 7]
Now Silvee and Toby and Mopsa give way,
For the good ship Catalpa lies out in the bay.
“Come down, you big Louis,” the captain did roar,
“Now what do you say, men? pull off from the shore;
You Lombar, keep stroke; pull, men, cheerily, oh!”
And what’s that to any one, whether or no?
Now past Garden Island, and clear off the Sound,
Make sail on the boat, pass the liquor around;
Shift your seats, trim the boat, as she bends to the breeze,
And light as a sea-gull skims over the seas;
There’s a rest from the oar, while the fair breezes blow;
And what’s that to any one, whether or no?
At six in the evening we sighted the bark,
And we steered on her track till the evening grew dark,
When a squall coming down, with its venomous blast,
Almost swamped our good boat, as it tore out her mast;
So all night on the billows we tossed to and fro;
But what’s that to any one, whether or no?
Next morning at seven we raised her again,
Topsails, mainsails and hull—we were nearing her plain,
When we spied the Georgette, steaming out of the Sound,
And we knew by her course for the bark she was bound;
So we hauled down our sail, then lay to and lay low;
But what’s that to any one, whether or no?
So the Georgette passed by bearing down on our ship;
All safe for the present—now, boys, let her rip;
Then we pulled in her wake for to see what she’d do,
And beside the Catalpa we saw her heave to,
And lay alongside her ten minutes or so;
But what’s that to any one, whether or no?
[Pg 8]
See the Georgette steams off, and is running inshore;
Make sail on the boat, out with paddle and oar;
For with every sail set, on her course down the bay,
The good ship Catalpa is bearing away.
To gain on her now we’ve a hard row to hoe;
But what’s that to any one, whether or no?
To follow our bark we were pulling amain,
When we saw the Georgette coming for us again.
In search of our boat she was steaming right back,
And we almost despaired as we lay in her track;
So we hauled down our sail and again we lay low;
And what’s that to any one, whether or no?
Still nearer and nearer the steamer came on,
And our plan of escape seemed all shattered and gone;
Hope faded away to a very small speck,
As we saw her lookout and the men on her deck;
But she passed us unseen—Fate had ordered it so;
And what’s that to any one, whether or no?
So the steamer passed on, and was soon out of sight;
Boys, now for the bark, we must catch her ere night;
Every stroke is for freedom—pull fast, and pull strong—
Pull, fellows, together and send her along;
See the bark change her course, heading for us I trow;
And what’s that to any one, whether or no?
It was two in the evening, and everything clear,
The bark coming to us, and nothing to fear,
When a sail on our lee, standing out from the shore,
Set us pulling our strongest with paddle and oar;
It’s a race for the ship, men; then row, bullies, row!
But what’s that to any one, whether or no?
[Pg 9]
With the sail on our lee, heading on for the ship,
We pulled strong and steady, and gave her the slip;
For beside the Catalpa we tossed oars at three,
With the water-police boat close up on her lee.
Quick on deck now, my lads! It was just “touch and go;”
But what’s that to any one, whether or no?
Hoist the star-spangled banner, the flag of the free!
The brightest and best that waves over the sea:
May its stars ever brighten, its shadow increase,
Then a fig for John Bull and his water-police.
Wear ship! then for sea, blow you fair breezes, blow!
And what’s that to any one, whether or no?
Here’s a health to brave Anthony, pass it along,
May his fortune be great, and his name live in song;
Here’s to Smith, our first-mate, fill your glasses with glee,
For a right manly, true-hearted sailor is he.
Here’s success to the cause that we all of us know;
But what’s that to any one, whether or no?
Here’s the good ship Catalpa, and all her ship’s crew;
Land of felons and jailers, here’s to you adieu,
From your dry, sandy shores we are speeding away,
May your fortune be brighter at no distant day;
Here’s the land of the free, may it flourish and grow,—
And God prosper old Ireland wherever we go.
