Smugglers Pie

The body of smuggler Robert Long

Hung by the road in chains,

His flesh was mouldering from his bones

Washed clean by the Cornish rains,

The crows had taken his sorry eyes,

His wife, the gold from his teeth,

But some kind soul from near Mousehole

Had left at his feet, a wreath!

 

The Excise men ranged over the cliffs,

The Revenue men below,

And Customs Officers manned the cutters

That intercepted the flow,

They boarded the bold East Indiamen

Who sold their goods tax free,

And many a thief has come to grief

When the waves tipped them into the sea!

 

The goods that lay in the Cornish coves

Tobacco, brandy and rum,

Were smuggled up onto Bodmin Moor

And sold for a tidy sum,

The coast was riddled with tunnels, caves,

And one led into a church,

The spirits that lay in the belfry there

Were hidden away from the search!

 

Battling Bill at the Halfway House

Long lightened the nation’s purse,

He’d run his brandy up to the Inn

Using a horse-drawn hearse,

Surprised one day by the Revenue

They shot poor Bill through the neck,

But dead, his hand whipped the horses’ still

And the hearse ran away from the wreck.

 

The hearse, it rattled Polperro streets,

Rolled over the cobblestones,

With Bill stuck firm to the riding seat

Not ready to make old bones,

He drove the length of the shopping street

And straight down onto the quay,

Then toppled into the harbour there,

But his ghost came back from the sea!

 

They smuggled silk, they smuggled wine,

They smuggled bags of tea,

Whatever the King put taxes on

The Cornish smuggled for free,

A convict ship to Australia

Was the worst that most of them got,

Apart from the likes of Robert Long

As he hung in his chains, to rot!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Veronica Chandler]

Such a pleasure to read your works, and I must say I have missed them this past month! This piece was a delightful read which painted such clear imagery. I could see poor Bill's corpse bouncing on the horse drawn hearse down the cobbled stones; the way you have with words always seems to take me on journeys as though propelled by a song to end, and before I know it, I reached the end. I find the sheer volume of your works astonishing, but it is even more extraordinary because each one is a master piece!

[Keith]

Congratulations on your win. You have painted such vivid images and brought those scoundrels to life. Magnificent poem, perfect for a Cornish Festival held in Australia and you even mentioned the connection. As always it reads brilliantly.

[Lena M. P.]

You truly deserved the win. This was a top notch poem. The storyline is gruesome yet full of that wonderful history you share so well. Winning was exactly what you deserved!

[quinfinn]

i never grow weary of reading you, David. i can be sure of an entertaining and well told story every time i visit your pages. i have heard of smuggler's pie all of my life...interesting write you have presented here. i can see why it is a winner!

[David Lewis Paget]

This poem has won First Prize in the Kernewek Lowender (Cornish Festival) Literary Competition for 2013.
Moonta, South Australia.

[TL Boehm]

love this one. My family is from Cornwall several generations back. Found this appealing.

[w]

The story is just as wonderful as many of your others I just feel the flow here is not as good.

[BlackRose]

As always, Marvelous. What else could I say. I felt like I was back in time in the western/cowboy type scene.