Andrew Rose

Andrew Rose, the British sailor,
Now to you his woes I'll name.
'Twas on the passage from Barbados
Whilst on board of the Martha Jane.
Chorus

Wasn't that most cruel usage,
Without a friend to interpose?
How they whipped and mangled, gagged and strangled
The British sailor, Andrew Rose.

'Twas on the quarterdeck they laid him,
Gagged him with an iron bar.
Wasn't that most cruel usage
To put upon a British tar?

'Twas up aloft the captain sent him,
Naked beneath the burning sun,
Whilst the mate did follow after,
Lashing till the blood did run.

The captain gave him stuff to swallow,
Stuff to you I will not name,
Whilst the crew got sick with horror,
While on board the Martha Jane.

'Twas in a water-cask they put him
Seven long days they kept him there,
When loud for mercy Rose did venture,
The captain swore no man should go there,

For twenty days they did ill-use him,
When into Liverpool they arrived,
The judge he heard young Andrew's story;
"Captain Rogers, you must die.'

Come all ye friends and near relations
And all ye friends to interpose,
Never treat a British sailor
Like they did young Andrew Rose.
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