The Ballad of Old Windrush Cave
This is my tale of a young rogue, Jack Dagger, and his sweetheart, a landlord’s daughter called Molly Kent. Jack leaves Molly behind to go off to make his fortune, by any means. The story is set in the early 18th century, against backdrops of Devon and the Southwest, but with a sea voyage and a mad dash across southern England thrown in.
One thing though, it is very, very long, and you'll need 30 to 40 minutes spare, going by the range of average reading speeds. Son on we go with . . .
The Ballad of Old Windrush Cave
Thus tale in old county of Devon begins;
Of one young girl’s dreams and of vagabond’s sins.
The village of Windrush, born both lad and lass;
‘Though five years apart much between it would pass.
The Gainsborough tavern on wild Devon coast,
In Windrush was home to Bill Kent, the inn’s host.
Nancy his wife, so strong and so loyal;
Night and day tending to common and royal.
They had one young daughter, the Lord they did praise,
For dimple faced Molly with kind, loving ways.
But the day they did rue when permission they gave,
For Molly to picnic in Old Windrush Cave.
The friends they did promise their folks not to stray;
They oathed not to linger ‘til end of the day.
For swell did the river not long after dusk,
And flooded the cave with such murderous brusque.
Cousin Tom Candle and young Jenny Crane,
Along with young Molly ran on down the lane.
Path straight they did leave and on over moor,
And down towards Windrush of infamous bore.
So calm were the waters of Windrush Lagoon,
The children with bundles on hot day in June.
Alongside the water they trampled on wave,
And soon came in sight, of Old Windrush Cave.
Very soon settled with water and scran,
And biscuits for after they emptied the can.
Games were aplenty with laughter and fun,
‘Til shadow it told them that gone was the sun.
With a scream and a dash if they were to escape;
Along the dark tunnel with elbows ascrape.
But Molly was last of the three to run clear;
Too late for the poor lass, the waters were here.
Tom dashed away, although not for his skin,
He ran to fetch help for to save his poor kin.
Young Jenny she climbed way up high above cave,
And cried for her friend in a watery grave.
Molly stopped screaming, her time it was nigh;
Her body was freezing, the waters were high.
‘Hang on, little Mol,’ there then came a shout;
‘I’m a strong swimmer, and I’ll get you out!’
The lad did his best against torrent and pool;
Time would soon tell if a hero or fool.
Just before waters could claim Molly Kent,
A pair of strong arms to young Molly were lent.
Jack Dagger, the saviour and son of the squire,
He rescued young Molly and soon lit a fire.
As Molly she shivered and smiled and then cried,
Knew not for Jack Dagger then she would have died.
From big house or no, and though son of the Squire,
Jack Dagger was trouble and torment and fire.
His father’s high office meant nought to bold Jack,
As dinner guests’ jewels ended up in his sack.
Molly’s young heart it did warm on that night,
And she looked at young Jack in a different light.
No charge ever laid upon son of the squire,
Would matter to Molly, whose heart was on fire.
Old Bill and wife, Nancy, with hearts full of fear;
The thundering hooves meant that news was now near.
The dashing Jack Dagger pulled up by the tavern;
‘I’ve got something of yours that I found in a cavern!’
Mother and father ignoring such form,
Helped their young daughter straight into the warm.
Bill Kent he did muse on such terrible folly,
Returned to the saviour of darling young Molly.
He looked deep in the eyes of the blaggard of Devon,
But this young rapscallion was surely from Heaven.
A moment in time and doubt gone in a second,
Bill looked upon Jack and close to him he beckoned.
‘Thankee, young Dagger, for being so brave,
With no thought for yourself while our daughter did save.
If there’s ought we can do, then you will be heard;
If you have a wish then you just say the word.’
Jack Dagger at Bill he looked right in the eye;
‘The stars that do twinkle can stay in the sky.
All silver and gold it can surely stay thine;
Pretty young Molly one day will be mine.’
Jack Dagger rode off and was soon out of sight;
Old Bill scratched his chin while he stood in moonlight.
The doubt did return after Jack spoke so bold;
The gain of such half-son, such thought left him cold.
This conflict of honour grew strong in Bill’s mind;
All offers of treasure so strongly denied.
But fate intervened in the form of a scandal;
Jack Dagger accused of a-robbin’ Joe Candle.
The Serjeant-at-Arms, goodly giant John Banner,
Led the young blade straight back down to the Manor.
Although the young Dagger had oft walked that mile,
Never before had it been to stand trial.
The Honourable Bart, better known as the Squire,
And Magistrate General o’er all of the Shire,
Was told to prepare an emergency session;
To deal with a matter, his own son’s transgression.
With witness aplenty to see to fair play,
No blind eye could turn for the deeds done that day.
Bartholomew Dagger, now sombre in law,
Gazed at the accused, his son he now saw.
‘You stand before me, my own son and heir,
For robbing Joe Candle while in the town square.
A year out this Shire, though to roam do not reckon;
A cold cell in Shepton–with-Mallett does beckon.’
Jack Dagger was taken while father’s head bowed,
To cheers and derision from noble and crowd.
But up from the lane did run young Molly Kent;
She kissed Jack on the cheek afore prison was sent.
The dashing rapscallion now no more than slave;
He screamed in his chains for the girl he did save.
While Molly, so pale with her heart full of woe,
Longed for four seasons to come and to go.
On the morning that freedom was promised to Jack,
Came whisper from corner upon an old sack.
‘Just ask for Zack Tucker in old Hartland Quay;
Adventure aplenty for young blades like thee.’
Jack Dagger decided to tarry a while,
As old man with one tooth did regale with a smile.
‘The moors and the barley will soon have you bored;
Just see Zack Tucker for new life abroad.’
‘I hear you, old man,’ said Jack Dagger, now rapt,
‘A promise to Molly in truth has me trapped.’
‘Will lady want ermine or coat made of sack?’
Replied the old man, with his one tooth so black.
‘Promise her gold,’ did continue Lem Clancy;
‘Or necklace of ruby, if that be her fancy.
A mind filled with riches and fancy free life,
Will make it worth waiting to be your sweet wife.’
Not back to his Molly did Jack Dagger race;
Back over two shires, Hartland Quay was the place.
He asked for Zack Tucker at Inn of Old Spain;
a broad chested villain did answer his name.
‘And who asks for me? Pray, tell me your tale,’,
Said bronzy Zack Tucker with tankard of ale.
‘My name is Jack Dagger, I’m son of the beak;
Lem Clancy in prison said that we should speak.’
‘A son of the beak, right here in my gaff?
Begone young Jack Dagger, you are ‘avin’ a laugh!’
But Jack from his belt he did pull out a knife;
Zack Tucker now only an inch from his life.
‘Dagger’s my name, and it fits, like my coat,’
Said Jack with the dagger at Zack Tucker’s throat.
‘Now tell me your plans, and do count me in,
Or my precious old father shall hear of your sin.’
Struck was the deal, Jack now one of the gang;
Tucker and Dagger in turn they both sang.
A hogshead of beer; an apple-mouthed pig;
Pewters of porter before Irish Jig.
Plans they were laid, Jack rode back to Molly;
Her heart it did break upon hearing such folly.
Reunion ruined by Jack’s plans to leave,
His head full of bullion and diamonds to thieve.
‘But why must you go?’ cried poor Molly with grief,
‘You’re safer with me than abroad as a thief!’
Said Jack with a smile, ‘I crept like a mouse,
But stole from a man who’s not far from my house.’
‘But why steal at all?’ replied Molly with hope;
‘If we work hard each day then through hard times we’ll cope.’
Jack Dagger he sighed, for he of himself knew,
Too hard would be vow of straight, narrow and true.
‘You speak of hard times, it is just as well,
For I’ve no welcome here, no more than in hell.
I stole from Joe Candle, your kin, goodly wench;
Tis better I steal from the Spanish and French.’
Molly she stood there and mused in her heart;
What use is such honour with love ripped apart.
‘You leave me no option, there is just once choice;
Together, forever, we’ll ride with one voice.’
‘But Molly, I may be a villain at heart,
But how can this be for I’m shortly to part?
And though bargain was struck and to keep it I mean,
We can’t marry yet, you are only sixteen.’
But Molly was sure of the path they should take,
And swore to be wife to this handsome young rake.
‘Let’s saddle the horses, our speed must be keen;
Ride northwards to Scotland, and to Gretna Green!’
But Molly’s resolve was soon shattered in two;
‘I’m so sorry, Molly, but this we can’t do.
I may be a thief as all good people know,
But I’ll not put you in peril, and now I must go.’
Poor Molly broke down, head in hands on the table,
Just as her mother dashed in from the stable.
A piercing look toward Jack who was leaving,
Returned with a grimace and eyes that were gleaming.
From corner of tavern he walked past the taps;
Old Bill with look worried while serving the chaps.
‘Don’t worry, sweet father, be glad in your bar,’,
Said Jack with a sneer, ‘for tis now I go far.’
Bill Kent he did breath a huge sigh of relief,
But short lived it was, for then told by the thief.
‘Stay close to your daughter for time I am gone,
For know I’ll be back when she’s turned twenty one.’
Put back was the bargain by nigh on five years,
But no longer was mind upon spirits and beers.
Poor simple old Bill was more turnip than sage;
He dreamt he could stop Molly’s coming of age.
Jack rode north-east up to town of old Bristol,
Adorned with a sword and his knife and a pistol.
Zack Tucker and cronies with ribalrous glee,
Had already boarded the schooner Tralee.
Third night upon ocean, far off from all land,
Zack Tucker and cronies had got it all planned.
They tied up the captain, lieutenants and crew,
And cast them adrift on the cold waters blue.
Passengers too were all given short thrift;
Men, wives and children were too cast adrift.
The ship it was taken, the plan it went well;
Landlubber cronies now sailors from hell.
The first Spanish galleon that did cross their path,
Soon saw all its sailors a-takin’ cold bath.
The coffers were pillaged, much gold was the purse,
And on to the Frenchies who fared even worse.
Around table of whisky and wine of the barley,
Zack Tucker called all of his men to a parley.
‘Slim, dusky maidens shall serve at our feast,
After rounding Cape Hope and then onwards due east!’
Jack Dagger he stood, face contorted in fury,
One man against Tucker and his cut-throat jury.
‘Ease up, Zack Tucker, that’s not what we planned!
The New World it beckons with booty so grand!’
Zack’s face was nostalgic, like Devonshire pig.
‘Much more from you and you go in the brig!
So treason it is, not a week out to sea;
But better ye know this, if ye sail with me.
‘I may well say one thing,’ continued Zack Tucker,
‘But then I may easily just say another.
Tis for you to decide for to stay or to quit,
But my orders I change as and when I see fit.’
But Jack was too proud just to swallow his pride;
He gathered his courage from deep down inside.
He continued his stance, though his chances were nil,
Of swaying Zack Tucker to bend to his will.
So to all the cronies a bargain from Jack;
‘I promise you silver and gold by the sack.
What say you all, turn hard port and due West?’
But fifteen grim faces meant grave mortal test.
Zack Tucker was first one to answer sedition;
A cutlass cut Jack on the face with precision.
Next came Cal Thatcher with shoulders so broad,
But big shoulders don’t stop being cut down with sword.
Jack wiped the blood from his face and his blade,
Surrounded by many, now almost waylaid.
But dagger flew left and a pistol shot right;
Zack Tucker and crony now dead as the night.
For twelve without leader uncertainty beckoned,
‘I’ll make ‘em eleven!’ so Jack Dagger reckoned.
He grabbed round the throat the old crony Sim Crocker,
Who was soon on a trip down to Davey Jones’ locker.
Jack thought on his feet with his mind racing sharp;
The prospect of failure to him seemed so stark.
‘What use be this rumpus, why carry the fight?
A ship with crew dead, cast adrift in the night.’
‘You’re not our leader!’ cried Scotty McGlenn;
A thrust from Jack’s sword and the cronies were ten.
‘Hail to our leader!’ cried Adam the Yellow,
‘Harken!’ said Jack, ‘to this sensible fellow!’
Once more around table a parley convened;
The delights of New World from Jack Dagger was gleaned.
With bottles now empty and salt pork consumed;
The ship did set sail and their voyage resumed.
Due west their direction, ambition so bold,
To relieve the New World of its silver and gold.
But weeks upon ocean, no meat in the pan;
The whisky all gone, no ale in the can.
Just as Jack Dagger got gist of revolt,
He spotted a frigate, the Devonshire Colt.
How sweetly ironic thought Jack with a hoot,
How sailors from home would concede all their loot.
Jack shouted, ‘Make ready the ropes for to board!
You there, bring powder with dry flint and cord!’
But waiting for Jack and all his bold crew,
Was something not bargained, if only Jack knew.
Old Captain Travis checked orders once more;
‘Apprehend Tucker and Dagger and more.’
One final look through the glasses to see;
No doubt about it - the schooner Tralee.
Like Daniel of old, Jack jumped into the den;
Twas quickly surrounded by fifty-five men.
His cronies behind, the ten men from the Avon,
Were very soon minus Nick Gough and Bill Laven.
Jack went for his dagger but Travis was best;
His gleaming sharp cutlass at Jack Dagger’s chest.
Jack Dagger to cronies ,‘Tis too high the cost;
All lay down your swords or more lives will be lost.’
What Jack did not know nor Zack Tucker the late,
One cast on the sea was one Commodore Slate.
The French and the Spanish deserve all they get;
But British high admirals don’t like getting wet.
The order went out from Old Admiralty Gate;
‘Recapture this schooner before it’s too late.
Bring back to justice this treasonous gang,
And very soon after these pirates will hang.’
The wily old captain, surveying the narks,
Knew Zack had become a fine supper for sharks.
‘Out with the old?’ asked the captain of Jack;
‘I can’t say I’m sorry, he killed Captain Black.’
‘But don’t think we’re done,’ did continue the skipper,
‘It’s to London Town where you’ll hang like a kipper.’
‘For myself I care nought,’ replied Jack of his folly,
‘But knowing I’ll swing it will finish poor Molly.’
The captain though sorry for Jack’s lady friend,
His duty came first so to brig he did send,
The dashing Jack Dagger and others to boot,
And set sail for England and still with their loot.
While Jack had been absent, twas young Molly’s fate,
For boys of the village to wait at the gate.
Old Bill and wife, Nancy, sure bargain was dead,
With mind to let room, hopeful prospects were led.
Too ugly, too small, head too big, size twelve shoes,
Of seventy one suitors none Molly would choose.
Then calling one day was the son of the baker;
‘I can’t marry him, for we’re Chapel, they’re Quaker!’
‘But Molly, the difference is split with a feather!’
Pleaded Bill Kent now at end of his tether.
‘Oh, is that right?!’ shouted Molly, incensed,
As she threw a full tankard, her father now drenched.
‘Now Molly, be fair,’ said her unflappable mater,
‘Our only concerns are for you in life later.
Now what about Philip, with practice in Law?
He’s quiet and thoughtful and true to the core.’
‘While we’re on subject of things that are legal,’,
Said Molly who picked up the scent like a beagle.
‘Remember I’m promised, though wearing no ring,
You would have me break contract, a terrible thing.’
Her mother withdrew but stood firm was old Bill,
‘If Jack is still living, then how long until,
He sends you a letter or appears in our door?
I’m sorry, young lady, young Jack is no more.’
Molly no longer own counsel could keep;
She looked to her parents with faces like sheep.
The reasons they offered, though well meant they be,
Would amuse all the pixies across Irish Sea.
‘Five years he did say from the day he was gone;
Five years he did promise, but you give him just one!
You line up these suitors with manners and wage;
I’m still four years short of my coming of age!’
Mol’ thundered on, for not finished, not yet,
A few more home truths to herself she had kept.
But deep down within her to keep was not wise,
And so to her parents she’d open their eyes.
‘Jack is a villain, of that I’ve no doubt,
But was I who suggested that we should ride out.
To Scotland with haste, oh yes, Gretna Green!
To wed round the anvil though only sixteen.
‘But Jack was the one who felt such alarm;
To marry a villain would put me in harm.
Although thankful the bargain is still far from all gone,
At least Jack said wait until I’m twenty one!!’
No more to be gained from this sorry melee,
Molly stormed off for to brood by the sea.
Bill Kent with a sigh he did sit there and muse,
While Nancy dashed off to give lawyer bad news.
The weeks they did pass and due calm did return,
For mother and father this lesson did learn.
To goad strong willed daughter to find a new beau,
Was not worth the heartache, of that they now know.
Meanwhile on the ocean new war it was waged,
The French crossed the line, King George was enraged.
The fighting was fierce for so much was at stake;
Colonial empires to lose or to take.
Unknowing of conflict, old Travis sailed North,
‘Til semaphore message came from Captain Borth.
‘From frigate Trevelyan to Devonshire Colt,
Stand by to pick up all alive from this boat.’
The frigate Trevelyan deep down then did slip,
As well as her captain who stayed with his ship.
The Devonshire Colt was soon hauling up souls,
Until a huge broadside did make several holes.
The water it gushed both through brig and through galley;
The captain gave orders for manjacks to tally.
‘Release all the men who are chained in the hold,
Let’s not cheat the hangman from earning his gold.
‘But in maritime law,’ for the skipper went on,
‘Death it is instant if they try to run.
Now into the water and to the shore swim,
But chances for all are I fear far too slim.’
The skipper was right, lost were many a hand,
For press-gangs should never recruit from inland.
Jack Dagger survived, he was one of the few,
To make it to shore but to captors anew.
A Prisoner of War, Jack now guest of the French,
Soon tired of garlic, the onions and stench.
But thoughts of his Molly allowed him to thrive,
For no other thought would have kept him alive.
But time without Jack it had taken its toll;
A sad sight was Molly’s poor desolate soul.
‘Maybe it’s true that Jack Dagger is gone;
Maybe it’s time now for me to move on.’
‘And how is young Philip?’ Mol’ then asked her Ma,
Who was cleaning the pumps with Bill Kent by the bar.
‘Last time I heard he was junior judge;
Now then, young lady, I’ll fetch him – don’t budge!!’
Rides in the trap and barefoot in the sea;
Both houses quite often had one more for tea.
One night after trotting back home in the carriage,
The smitten young lawyer did then propose marriage.
‘You’ll not want of chattels, of hand there’s no fear;
I’ll never come home with the foul stench of beer.
What say, my sweet lady, of living our life,
With me as your husband and you as my wife?’
Molly kept silent though not through surprise,
What’s said was expected for Molly was wise.
But then she did think of a life on her own,
And maybe true love over time could be grown.
‘Yes,’ was the answer, to which young lawyer beamed;
For sometime thereafter quite happy they seemed.
With rings of engagement, the banns they were read;
September the Third was the day they would wed.
But fate once again intervened in this tale;
A truce was declared, Jack was let out of jail.
A ship from old Calais which was bound for Dover,
Was boarded by Jack, but adventure not over.
‘You reckon that rogue did survive sea and bullet?’
Asked Commodore Slate with red gown and white mullet.
‘I heard it first hand from Ted Figgs the First Mate,’,
At Admiralty Court an old seadog did state.
‘This cad may well have been jailed by the French,
But if he’s still alive he’s to stand before bench.
I want you to post guards at all channel ports;
at Dover, the biggest, you’ll be there, of course.’
And so the old seadog on journey he went,
Through garden of England, the county of Kent.
To look for Jack Dagger, all else it could wait,
Such was the anger of Commodore Slate.
Along Dover quayside, alongside white cliffs,
Waited the merchants and dandies with quiffs.
But there among porters and pigeons and pies,
Was old Captain Travis who screwed up his eyes.
Travis was last on the Devonshire Colt,
All else had jumped ship for to drown or to bolt.
The skipper he planned then to sink and to drown,
Until a French sailor did tie Travis down.
Back to French flagship the captain escorted;
His plans to go down with his ship were now thwarted.
For four years thereafter he too in French cell,
But not like poor Jack’s with the flies and the smell.
Jack disembarked, it felt just like Heaven,
Knowing that Molly was waiting in Devon.
Procuring a steed that was fast, tough and proud,
Distracted his thoughts as he pushed through the crowd.
Past beggars and sailors, a veritable throng;
Parsons and grocers they too pushed along.
Jack dodging the widows and orphans so light,
A-carrying bags for a groat or a mite.
‘Ahoy there! Jack Dagger! Heave to and stand fast!
The charge of high treason you will face at last!’
Jack looked around to loud voice in the crowd;
Twas stood Captain Travis; Jack smiled, then he bowed.
Jack forced his way past the drunken marines;
The scuffling wastrels, the tricksters with beans.
Almost free, almost clear, almost out the gate,
But Travis’s guards they were stood there in wait.
Jack’s one last chance was to gain a swift ride;
He jumped on a wagon ‘though drayman did chide;
‘Just what the devil is your game, my friend?’
The drayman quite soon sat in mud on rear end.
Jack took the reins with one quick look around;
His crafty quick thinking had gained him some ground.
For sea-going guards are quite lost on the land,
They hadn’t brought horses, it hadn’t been planned.
Their attempts to waylay were so sad and forlorn;
Jack whipped the horse until hide it was torn.
Matelot and bosun, one drunken marine,
Were just brushed aside by this racing machine.
As sad as Jack was for the loss of good beer,
He jumped to the horse and let go of the rear.
The wagon did smash and did block up the road,
Which bought vital time while they cleared up the load.
Crafty young Jack he decided what’s best,
Away from the coast which would surely be guessed.
With cover of darkness inland over down,
He rode through the night for to reach Ashford town.
But Dover to Ashford too great was the task,
For lumbering dray horse more used to huge cask.
To stop at the half-way to rest the great nag,
Was now on Jack’s mind if new horse was to bag.
Up a high hill and then right over down,
Jack Dagger espied the dim lights of a town.
Stowting, with coach-houses, stables and mews,
Was very soon minus fresh horse with new shoes.
Jack and his charger raced on at a dash;
Soon swift along banks of the old River Ash.
Then Church of Saint Michael then came into view;
Jack knew it was Sunday, packed altar and pew.
While parson from pulpit long-loud proclaimed, ‘Sinner!’
At same time relieved of his veritable dinner.
For Jack had sneaked up and crept into the Manse;
While chomping on chicken he stole parson’s pants.
Jack knew that the sermons at Matins dragged on,
And so chanced a nap while the parson still gone.
‘By gad, sir, you’ve ate all my chicken and bread!
What’s more you’ve a-cheek for to sleep in my bed!’
Jack sat up in panic, his nap become slumber;
Also in room were some men-folk by number.
He guessed that of most gathered there were gentile,
Apart from a colonel who brandished his steel.
One chance Jack he had, once chance he did take;
A leap through the window, but fell in a lake.
The sopping wet Jack did run right round the Manse;
Came shout from from behind him, ‘He’s stolen my pants!’
And so that was Ashford, still long way to ride;
Once more upon horse-back, across countryside.
Both townfolk and yocals perchanced on the trail,
Jack freed them all from their corn and their ale.
Through Royal Tunbridge Wells still in county of Kent,
And onto Old Crowborough, through Sussex he went.
Haywards Heath, Petersfield, towns in the same county;
And through all his deeds now on head was a bounty.
Chased into Hampshire for killing a deer,
The venison wasted as bailiffs drew near.
Winchester town folk did roar at the sight,
Dog wanting his bone back as Jack he took flight.
On Salisbury Plain, although Jack in plain view,
Took dinner of rabbit, of hamster and shrew.
Dorset and Somerset, finally Devon;
One more hard night’s ride to his Molly and Heaven.
Just before Jack had returned to these parts,
Molly did feel in her heart of her hearts;
That maybe to marry young Philip La Coan,
Was not right after all, she should stay on her own.
‘Don’t worry, my petal, I’ve yet for to meet,
A bride or a groom who’s not suffered cold feet.’
So said Bill Kent, his own doubt did remember;
‘But tarry not long, tis the First of September.’
September the Second, still Molly with doubt,
Of life looming fast of high manners and gout.
Twas not she disliked the young Philip La Coan,
But knew that for him her true love had not grown.
With kith and kin round the prenuptial table,
Nancy and Bill thanked the Lord they were able.
To provide fancy meats, the best wine on the tray,
Not only on eve but for wedding next day.
‘Just where is young Molly? asked Maiden Aunt Doris;
‘A definite Tom Boy,’ mused old Uncle Boris.
‘Forgive me, our guests, if I just leave the table;
Shy Molly I will bring back inside from the stable.’
Nancy she went right outside for to see,
Just where was her Molly, not stable was she.
Not in the backyard or down cellar below;
Her mother now feared at her vows would not show.
Nancy, with panic she tried to keep blind,
Returned to her guests without daughter behind.
‘I’m sorry my friends who are all gathered here;
Young Molly is missing, her safety I fear.’
Bill Kent dropped his tankard and stood up at table;
‘Good men from this village; strong lads that are able.
Go fetch your ropes, go now quick! Out the door!
On tor may be stranded; in mire or on moor!!’
But none of the men-folk did get very far;
Forlorn Molly Kent walked back into the bar.
She burst into tears, to her mother did rush;
She buried her head then her tears they did gush.
‘Oh, Mother, I can’t carry on this deception,
Explain to folks gathered for wedding reception.
By taking such vows, then I will have played part,
In the cruellest of follies, to break someone’s heart.’
With a nod from his wife, Bill Kent with a cough,
He addressed all those gathered to leave and be off.
The young lawyer’s parents were last to depart,
With look of indignance, climbed into their cart.
Transpired that Mol’s absence was simply long walk;
To make sense of her life, to herself she did talk.
She then asked herself should she marry her beau;
The answer from Molly, to Molly, was ‘no’.
No word from Bill Kent of such wasted expense;
He felt for his daughter though nothing made sense.
Both Bill and wife Nancy, so all could get by,
Knew it was best to let sleeping dogs lie.
Molly did write an apology letter;
Philip’s reply was that ‘he could do better.’
With shrug of her shoulders, Mol got on with life;
Accepted to never be someone’s sweet wife.
Molly one night she was sweeping the floor;
Came terrible bang, did fly open the door.
Who sauntered in with an arrogant swagger?
Twas dashing young rake, her beloved Jack Dagger.
Strong arms they did sweep Molly right off the floor;
Long was embrace which shocked parents to core.
A passionate kiss, Molly’s heart again light;
But old Bill and old Nancy, their faces now white.
Bill finally spoke to his unwelcome guest;
‘You saunter in here with much bilge on your vest.
Tis honest I be, though you saved our sweet lass,
It gladdened my heart when I thought you had passed.’
‘And as for the bargain,’ now spoke up his wife,
‘I’d sooner we break it than Mol’ to live life,
With knave for whom one day his luck would run out;
His neck in a noose, and to leave her without.’
Jack Dagger cared little for all what was spoken,
But only for Molly whose heart he had broken.
But Jack had returned for to make a fresh start;
To hurt ne’er again his beloved sweetheart.
For Molly in Jack she still never saw wrong,
As she sat on his knee while a-singin’ a song.
With a laugh and a smile and a smack on the rump,
Jack’s Molly dispatched to the best porter pump.
Old William Kent he did frown and did sigh,
As he looked from the bar with a tear in his eye.
How dearly he wished he could turn back the clock,
And young Molly’s trip to the cave he could block.
Bill’s eyes they did meet with those of young Jack,
Which glinted the message, ‘there’s no going back.’
As heartbeat it raced and Bill went to advance,
A firm hand upon Bill from his good lady Nance’.
‘I’d sooner have lass, though wrong as maybe,
Along with her father to stand next to me.
Keep counsel, bite tongue, for we still have this inn;
Your girl is a woman to serve or to sin.’
Molly averted the gaze of them both,
But uttered, ‘To Jack I have plighted my troth.
Love knows no right and love knows no wrong;
For dashing Jack Dagger, true love is my song.
‘Remember I told you,’ continued their Molly,
‘How Jack said to wed at sixteen was a folly?
But in a few moments such reasons are gone;
For on stroke of midnight, I’ll be twenty one.’
Still looking away with Jack to her right,
She muttered goodbye to her parents that night.
Not looking back as she stepped through the door;
The clock it struck twelve as they raced oer the moor.
They rode over heath-land and raced along coast;
But then Jack did look as if just seen a ghost.
For in the strong moonlight, he saw clear as day,
Captain Travis and soldiers and riding his way.
From White Cliffs of Dover through country and city,
The effort proved pointless and Jack we should pity.
His ploy to put Travis off scent in the air,
Was all done in vain, he was already there.
Commodore Slate he had raged at the skipper;
‘This slippery eel made you look like a kipper.
But rapscallious bandit his fate is sure thing,
To die where you find him or return here to swing.
‘All oer the South West, stern enquiries you’ll make,
Of this blasted scoundrel, ten men you will take.
Not bow-legged matelots, they’re not worth their rum,
But battle-trained horse-men, I’ll see General Crumb.’
‘Quick! Molly, turn round and ride back way we came!
We’ll lose them on Exmoor, I’m good at this game!’
‘But why do we have to? Who are all those men?’
Asked Molly, though loyal, she did ask him again.
‘It is a long story, I’ll tell you this night!’
Said Jack with wry smile though his face it was white.
‘Ahoy there! Jack Dagger!’ hailed skipper of boat,
‘Commodore Slate wants a rope round your throat!’
The chase it was on between lovers and men;
Jack and his Molly crossed moorland again.
From young boy to man, Jack knew every safe path,
But not so the posse, some taking mud-bath.
But still Captain Travis Jack Dagger did tail,
Advancing up tor and then racing down dale.
Then down came the mist but Jack still he knew best,
Not so three soldiers with mud up to chest.
Molly was tiring of this Jack did know;
‘Don’t worry my sweet, for I know where to go.
My father’s boat is at Windrush Lagoon;
If you can keep going, we’ll be there quite soon.’
‘I’m sorry my lover, through me we may fail;
Tis harsher on tor than it be in the dale.
Though muscles do ache and my limbs are quite dead;
Onward to Windrush, in France we shall wed!’
Jack looked behind as they reached the high ground,
Hoping of Travis no sight or no sound.
But there at a gallop and whip at the flail,
Travis and troops all were still on the trail.
Not known to Jack Dagger was that in Hartland Quay,
Joe Candle was trading in horse livery.
He heard a voice ask at the Inn of old Spain,
‘Has pirate Jack Dagger returned here again?’
Joe Candle, not just through the plight of half-brother,
Did tell Captain Travis of Molly and lover.
‘ . . . And then he left Windrush, his fortune to earn;
According to kinfolk, he’s soon to return.’
That was enough for the skipper that day,
To ride with Joe Candle to show him the way.
Only too willing was Joe to give time;
Jack Dagger he thought should have hanged for his crime.
With Windrush Lagoon nearing fast for betrothed;
Travis from hill-top spied man he now loathed.
The fog had all cleared and with moon shining bright,
Gave order to sniper; – ‘Put rogue in your sight.’
From gallop to canter then trot upon horses,
Did Molly and Jack though in sight of King’s forces.
Dismounted by water, with Molly so tired,
She collapsed on the ground as the musketeer fired.
The shot it did miss both young Molly and beau,
For the wind oer the lake at such strength it did blow.
But old Captain Travis to justice was pinned;
‘Again, musketeer!! Just aim off of the wind!’
The second shot came, but again it did miss,
The soldier distracted by Will O’ the Wisp.
By time he’d resumed with a clear, perfect vision,
the unhelpful young bandit had changed his position!
Jack dragged his Molly up on aching feet;
‘If we are to live, then do hurry, my sweet!
For if we can reach t’other side of the bay,
Then soon we’ll be free and a-sailing away!’
The soldiers then ordered to break from high land,
Towards Jack and Molly who did dash over sand.
But volley of fire it held both lovers back,
From reaching the yacht which was christened, ‘My Jack.’
All of the troops were now down from the tor,
And loading their muskets to fire from the shore.
Closer and closer to Jack and to Molly,
Whom sheltered ‘neath rise for to shield from the volley.
Knowing that hopeless was now their position,
Jack knew it was time for a timely decision.
He knew that to swing or to die there and then,
Was not now a question of if, but of when.
‘Run, Molly, run!! Dash off home up the rise.
Go marry your lawyer, and claim your sweet prize.
Forget about me, though I will take my chance;
From Devon to Cornwall, I’ll lead them a dance!’
Molly with scream she did then leave her beau,
To the mercy of Travis but so far none to show.
As Mol climbed the scree for to save her own life,
Jack he ran out with his pistol and knife.
Mol’ screamed again as the scree it subsided,
And slipped right back down, with a rock she collided.
While lying unconscious, as Jack turned around,
A wave lifted Molly right up off the ground.
Jack he ran back for his sweetheart to save,
As Molly washed deep into Old Windrush Cave.
The stern Captain Travis did pity now show;
As musket was aimed, Captain Travis yelled ‘NO!!’
But High Tide was gushing; wind roared overhead,
Deaf musketeer did release ball of lead.
The pirate Jack Dagger, no courage did lack,
While braving the torrent was shot in the back.
Jack staggered onwards into the old cave;
Thoughts only for Molly, her life again save.
But Molly was lying quite dead against sill;
Jack dropped down beside her, he too now lay still.
As infamous bore it did cede from the land,
The clashing cold waters did gently knock hand,
First of poor Molly then Jack her young beau;
They held hands together, to new life did go.
The heartbroken parents next day at the scene,
Saw that the sweethearts did look so serene.
Away from all worries, away from all strife,
They knew that in Heaven were now man and wife.
Now old Bill’s wife, Nancy, as well as the Squire,
Of old Captain Travis asked what did transpire.
But Bill did not listen to old seadogs patter;
For old Bill he knew what was at heart of the matter.
At times foolish actions, what e’er they may be,
Many years later may fall back on thee.
If young daughter’s life one does so wish to save,
Then don’t let her picnic in Old Windrush Cave.
The end
