Fiddler's Green

Author's Note
Fiddler's Green is a collection of short stories by Jeremiah A. Garland. They are written completely in the style of traditional verse, and share a theme relating to the everyday lives and harships endured by the sailors and seamen who populated the oceans in the 18th and 19th centuries. According to legend, "Fiddler's Green" is a mythical paradise where all good-willed sailors go after death, and can therefore be viewed as a heavenly location.
==The Tale of Captain Barrow==
'Twas a foggy night
When The Nightingale came a'round.
Their days numbered two and twenty
For open port she was a'bound.
At her helm stood a proudly man
With a beard as white as snow.
Any of 'er crew could tell ye
'Twas the good ol' Captain Barrow.
He was a man of many years
As rough and merry as could be.
But he always kept b'low his arm
A fine bottle of Napoleon brandy.
He was not a wicked man
And he loved his crewmen so.
He ran his ship with a pleasant hand
That good ol' Captain Barrow.
Now the men you see were jolly
For Bermuda lie a'head.
Less than a month's journey to toil
'For they'd reach St. George's Head.
The Nightingale sailed a'long
The calm and open seas.
Not a soul within a fortnight
Could break the Norther's breeze.
But then on the nine-teenth day
A horrid gale gave an awful blow.
The men aboard The Nightingale ran a'midst
Save that good ol' Captain Barrow.
'You men need not fear,
The old captain did cry.
'I shall see this ship to safety
even if I die'.
All the men stood agog
All the men stood a'dead.
'Surely you cannot see us
Safely to St. George's Head?'
Well the old cap'n chuckled
And tipped his head so low.
He was bound to see them through
That good ol' Captain Barrow.
And now the squall drew near
And The Nightingale gave a shake.
The captain shouted orders
For his own men's sake.
They worked like hell to save her
All heedless of the gale.
But their labour had gone in vain
And the wind had torn her sail.
The once calm blue sea
Had now been painted grey.
The men on board The Nightingale
Ran avast in dismay.
With one light gesture
The old captain rose his hand.
'Do as I say, my good men,
And you shall see the green of land'.
Like a group of schoolboys
The men stood at arm's length.
Not a moment did they doubt
Their captain's brilliant strength.
Crying above the harsh dark winds
Like the valiant flight of the sparrow.
The old captain did his duty
That good ol' Captain Barrow.
And so with the order about
The men did man the gigs.
All but the old captain
Who saw then to the rigs.
'My captain, you must be mad!
Cried a mate from the rail.
'You musn't stay on board,
She is doomed, this wretched Nightingale!'
But the captain paid no heed
He knew he must stay.
For the gigs could hold twenty
And twenty-one men were they.
But cries the captain 'do not delay!
Nor do you spare a thought for me.
My duty is now to save ye all
And see ye return as quick as can be.'
With these final words the gigs shoved off
And The Nightingale ravaged by the sea.
But tied among her mizzens was her captain
Clutching a bottle of fine Napoleon brandy.
And so the gigs reached Bermuda
In the early hours of the morn.
There did not rest amongst them
Their captain of the ship untorn.
Heartbroken with weep
The men held with spirits low.
For though they had lived
They had lost their dear Captain Barrow.
But in the days to follow
A corporal of the guard heard this tale.
With a mate of the crew and a light platoon
He would explore the wreck of The Nightingale.
As they reach'd the dreadful ruins
What an awful sight was plain.
The old captain had vanished
No longer lying beneath the mizzen chain.
Now the lad of the crew stood aghast
His face had turned white.
'Where could he have gone!?
Our captain has vanished from sight!'
The corporal knew at once
Where the late captain had gone
So he explained to the mate
like a knight to his pawn.
'Your captain is where all men go
The corporal did say to the fellow.
'He is in Fiddler's Green,
That good ol' Captain Barrow.'
And sure enough he was
That old captain so jolly and free.
In Fiddler's Green he'd live on
Always clutching his Napoleon brandy.
Category:Fan Stories
Category:POTCO
Category:McKagan Productions Pieces