The Female Sailor (Ann Jane Thornton)

Draw near, ye loyal lovers all, and to me lend an ear,
While I relate as true a tale as ever you did hear,
Concerning a bonny lass, who lately, we are told,
Did cross the stormy ocean in search of her sailor bold.
This beautiful young maid liv’d in the county Donnegal,
It was with a sea captain straightway in love she did fall.
She was but sixteen years of age that captain twenty two
They pledg’d their words they’d constant be, what more could
lovers do.
Before the marriage knot was tied the wind it blew fair,
The Captain must leave her behind and to his ship repair,
Of his Ann Jane he took farewell, then he sail’d away,
From Derry town to Saint Andrew’s in North America.
Ann Jane Thornton she was sorely distressed in mind,
To think her lover he was gone and she was left behind,
Nine months and more this maid did wait her lover’s return,
But she no word of him could hear, which caused her to mourn.
This lovely damsel her sad grief no longer could conceal,
At the same time to no person her mind she did reveal,
She says here like a troubld sea my mind’s toss’d to and fro,
Then straight off to America, in search of him I’ll go.
A ship being ready for sea, away Ann Jane she goes,
And purchas’d without delay a sailor suit of clothes,
When she got on her sailor’s dress, and hair cut close behind,
A bonnier looking sailor lad its nowhere could you find.
Ann Jane after her lover to America did steer,
Her friends they made enquiry for her both far and near,
At length she landed in East Port in North America,
From that into St. Andrew’s she travell’d the whole way.
Through woods and lonely valleys she wander’d night and day.
At length she came into the place where her true lover lay,
She shed a mournful tear over the place he did lie,
Crying hard fate did separate my true lover and I.
When she came to St. Andrew’s, twas there she did enquire
For the captain of the Sarah, his name is M’Intyre,
The Sarah belongs to Belfast, as I do understand,
The captain soon agree’d with her as he did want a hand.
As cook and steward he engaged her immediately,
By her appearance he took her a sailor lad to be,
Nine Spanish dollars in the month of the captain she had,
Brave M’Intyre he did admire his bonny sailor lad.
Under the name of James she went for three long years and more
All the hard work they put her to it patiently she bore
She learned to hand reef and steer, likewise to heave the log,
On shore she’d court the pretty girls and push about the grog.
On their last voyage from Portugal a seaman full of mirth
Watched this sailor washing herself in her berth,
Her jacket it flew open and her breasts he chanc’d to spy,
Is this our cook and steward lad? the sailor he did cry.
He says my pretty girl, my mind to you I’ll reveal,
If to my wishes you’ll comply the secret I’ll conceal,
This bonny sailor lass, she answer’d him right modestly
Here on the sea I’ll suffer death before that I yield to thee.
When he did make the secret known to the captain and the crew,
The hardest work that they could get they always put her to;
When the vessel did encounter a boisterous gale
She would be foremost up aloft a refing the top-sail.
At the Fresh-wharf, near Billinsgate, they did at anchor lie,
When the tide-waiter went on board, it was there he did espy
A sailor beating this young lad, as he took her to be,
The secret unto him there she related instantly.
It is in Ballyshannon town my father he does dwell,
He is a corn factor there, and is respected well;
I have been reared tenderly, sire, in my youthful days
I never thought ‘twould be my lot to plough the raging seas.
Before the Lord Mayor of London this damsel he did take,
It’s there a full confession of her sufferings she did make;
This female sailor to her friends once more he did restore,
In search of her true lover she will plough the seas no more.