The Poachers

A Bothy Ballad. The punishments for poaching in the 19th. century were harsh with transportation being common. This Particular version is from Scotland, but an almost identical English version has the poachers based round Nottingham and changes the names of the characters.
Come all ye gallant poachers that ramble void of care, That walk oot on a moonlight night, with your dog, your gun and snare; The harmless hare and pheasant you have at your command, Not thinking on your last career upon Van Dieman's land. 'Twas poor Tom Brown from Glasgow, Jack Williams and poor Joe, We were three daring poachers, the country well did know; At night we were trepanned by the keepers in the sand, And for fourteen years transported to Van Dieman's land. The first day that we landed upon this fatal shore The planters that came round us, full twenty score or more, They rank'd us up like horses, and sold us out of hand, And yok'd us to the ploughs, my boys, to plough Van Dieman's land. The houses that we dwell in here are built of clod and clay; With rotten straw for bedding, we dare not say them nay; Our cots are fenced with wire, and we slumber when we can, And we fight the wolves and tigers which infest Van Dieman's land. There cam' a lass from sweet Dundee, Jean Stewart it was her name, For fourteen years transported, as you may know the same. Our captain bought her freedom, and married her off-hand, And she gives us a' good usage here, upon Van Dieman's land. Although the poor of Scotland do labour and do toil, They're robbed of every blessing and produce of the soil; Youre proud imperious landlords, if we break their command, They'll send us to the British hulks, or to Van Dieman's land.