THE FEMALE TRANSPORT
an early broadside relating to Australia
NOTE: Ron Edwards states in The Convict Maid (1985 Rams Skull Press) that the original ballads were printed as broadsides without music, and usually without suggestion of the tune to which they could be sung. The buyers of the broadsides would sing the words to whatever tune they knew that happened to fit.
Come all young girls, both far and near, and listen unto me,
While unto you I do unfold what proved my destiny,
My mother died when I was young, it caused me to deplore,
And I did get my way too soon upon my native shore.
Sarah Collins is my name , most dreadful is my fate,
My father reared me tenderly, the truth I did relate,
'Till enticed by bad company along with many more,
It led to my discovery upon my native shore.
My trial it approached fast, before the judge I stood,
And when the judge's sentence passed it fairly chill'd my blood,
Crying, “You must be transported for fourteen years or more,
And go from hence across the seas unto Van Dieman's shore.”
It hurt my heart when on a coach I my native town passed by,
To see so many I did know it made me heave a sigh,
Then to a ship was sent with speed along with many more,
Whose aching hearts did grieve to go unto Van Dieman's shore.
The sea was rough, ran mountains high, with us poor girls 'twas hard,
No one but God to us came nigh, no one did us regard,
At length, alas! We reached the land, it grieved us ten times more,
That wretched place Van Dieman's Land, far from our native shore.
They chained us two by two, and whipped and lashed along,
They cut off our provisions if we did the least thing wrong,
They march us in the burning sun until our feet are sore,
So hard's our lot now we got to Van Dieman's shore.
We labour hard from morn to night until our bones do ache,
The every one they must obey, their mouldy beds must make,
We often wish when we lay down we ne'er may rise no more
To meet our savage governor upon Van Dieman's shore.
Every night when I lay down I wet my straw with tears,
While wind upon that horrid shore did whistle in our ears,
Those dreadful beasts upon that land, around our cots do roar,
Most dismal is our doom upon Van Dieman's shore.
Come all young men and maidens, do bad company forsake,
If tongue can tell our overthrow it will make your heart to ache;
Young girls I pray be ruled by me, your wicked ways give o'er,
For fear like us you spend your days upon Van Dieman's shore.
