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Monday, 20 September 2010

Squeak! Squeak! Murder!

There was a squeaking - what was it? The dog with the yellow crab toy. He loves it. Racing round the garden squeaking it away.

Have just had a wonderful day's music making, many more songs on the boil. I was playing tenor banjo, tenor uke and tambourine, Matt was on cello and many more instruments. Some great sounds were made, a lovely time was had.

I have written some lyrics for a Newgate ballad. Needs tweaking of course. And a final verse section about a little boy sent to Newgate and to hang for stealing a few loaves of bread when he was hungry.

The Grate of Newgate

Gather round this ugly grate
A story I will tell
About an inmate deep below
in Newgate's dreadful cells

Mary Arnold took black beetles
In two walnut shells
Tied them to her infant's eyes
to blind her baby well

She thought he'd beg her dinner
While she would live at ease
He's gone to the asylum
She'll go overseas

Gather round the iron grate
Horror I shall tell
About another inmate deep
within Newgate's fearful cells

Mobbs the drunk had no beer
His wife would not be told
He said to fetch another pint
But she answered no

He took a brown-handled knife
Cut her throat open
She bled her way right down the stairs
in her old apron

the blood kept pouring, what a sight
for a boy so young.
The angels snatched his mother.
His pa will soon be hung

Gather round this rancid grate
Truly I will tell
About the evil barely trapped
In Newgate's darkest cells

Mrs Dyer's baby farm
took in babes for pay
Poor young mothers wept to give
their tiny lambs away

When they turned their backs
a heinous deed was done
The evil wretch would strangle them
Each and everyone

Wrapped up in brown paper
Pushed under a couch
Thrown into the Thames high tide
Bargemen fished them out

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