117 Poor Parker
Richard Parker, of Exeter, was the leader of the famous mutiny
in the fleet at the Nore, in the mouth of the Thames, in 1797. He
was hanged therefor, and his body was recovered later by his
widow much as related in the ballad. The mutineers were organ-
ized in a sort of republic governed by a body of "delegates" of
which Parker was "president," whence he is sometimes called
"President Parker." Such a career was sure to be balladized. Mase-
field's A Sailor's Garland has a text entirely different from that
elsewhere recorded. Ashton's Modern Street Ballads 218-20 has our
North Carolina version, and a fuller form of the same version has
been reported from Scotland (Christie 11 102-3). A text from
Dorset tradition is reported in JFSS viii 188-90, and one from the
west of England in Baring-Gould's Songs of the West. I have not
found it reported elsewhere as traditional song except in our North
Carolina collection. But Miss Gilchrist (JFSS viii 190) says "it
was common on broadsides after the event."
'Poor Parker.' Reported by Mrs. R. D. Blacknall of Durham with the
following note: "Between 1812 and 1820, Miss Jane Girvin, an elderly
seamstress, spent six or eight weeks annually in my great-grandfather's
home in Franklin county, plying her needle on the family's wardrobe,
singing soul fully as she sewed. Into 'Poor Parker' she threw her whole
soul, ejaculating fervently after each verse, 'A-h-h poor creetur !'"
1 Ye gods above, protect us widows !
With eyes of pity look down on us!
Help me, help me out of trouble
And all this sad calamity !
Oh, Parker was my lawful husband.
Though fortune to me has proved unkind ;
And though poor Parker was hanged for mutiny,
Worse than him was left behind.
2 The day that he was to be executed
(And no relief would they afford),
The day on which he was to be hang-ed
They would not let me come on board.
The boatmen used their best endeavors,
But over and over and over again
Still, still they replied, 'You must be denied !
So go your way on shore again.'
3 I thought I saw his hand a-waving
As much as to say, 'My love, farewell!'
As on the beach I stood a-trembling;
And down in a fainting fit I fell.
And when my senses I did recover
All in amazement there I stood^
352 NORTH CAROLINA FOLKLORE
For the waves, they seemed, as they flowed all around me.
As if they were stained by my husband's blood.
4 One night, one night when all was silent
And many a thousand was fast asleep,
Me and two friends jumped over the wall
And into the graveyard we did creep.
And then our hands we made our shovels,
The dirt from his cofifin we tore away.
And there we got the corpse of poor Parker,
And straight to London we hastened away.
5 Yes, we got the corpse of Poor Parker,
And straight to London we hastened with speed ;
There we had him decently buried.
And a sermon preached over him, indeed !
Oh, Parker was my lawful husband.
Once he was my bosom-friend ;
But now in heaven his soul is a-shining.
I hope I shall see my dear Parker again.
It may be noted that this story of the recovery of the corpse is prob-
ably true. See the account of Parker in DNB.
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117
Poor Parker
'Poor Parker.' Sung by Miss Jean Holeman. Recorded ; no date or place given.
Scale: Heptachordal, plagal. Tonal Center: g. Structure: ababa^bicb (2,2,2,2,
2,2,2,2,) = aaa^b (4,4,4,4).