Jack Ketch

Life can be cruel...

I was only sixteen, when I was seduced

By a woman of thirty-three,

The Governor's wife at the Prisoner's Ball

And she offered to dance with me,

I blushed, I stammered, and hung my head

But she moved with a fluid grace,

She took my hand for the Colonel's Waltz

And squeezed in a warm embrace.

 

I did the odd job at the prison then,

Just sweeping and cleaning the yard,

Carrying messages round each wing

But nothing you'd call too hard,

I'd sometimes go to the Governor's House

To help with the garden there,

And I'd see his wife, sweet Caroline,

As she sunned herself in a chair.

 

She would lie in that part of the garden

Shaded cool by an apple tree,

Reading a book in her cozy nook

Taking little account of me,

Or so I thought, 'til the day she sought

Me out at the Prisoner's Ball,

When she whispered things in my ear that night

And pinned me close to the wall.

 

I was just a boy, and she wanted a toy to

Play with when she was bored,

She egged me on in the garden shade

While I just felt overawed,

Then I heard that she was expecting, and

She cut me out of her life,

She played that part so wonderfully well,

The dutiful Governor's wife.

 

A boy was born in the early spring

And they christened him Billy Cole,

I wasn't allowed near a yard of him

And it ate deep into my soul,

I watched him grow from a distance then,

But she finally got me the sack,

She told the Governor I'd been spying

Whenever she lay on her back.

 

The years went by and I got me a trade

But I lived right next to the Jail,

I'd watch them motor right by me then

And I felt myself turn pale,

They looked so fine in their motorcade

With the windows wound right down,

My son grew tall by the prison wall

As the weeks and the years rolled round.

 

The hard times came, the hard times went,

I needed some extra pounds,

The government service advertised,

I applied, and they asked me round,

I must have done well in their questionnaire

For I got the job in the end,

They would call me, give me a time and place

And expect me to attend.

 

I didn't speak of my duties then,

It wasn't considered 'form',

It was only once in a purple moon

The official summons came,

I kept my secret and nobody asked,

I worked at my trade by day,

Then every so often the phone would ring:

'I'm sorry, I'm called away!'

 

For twenty years I held my peace,

But followed my Billy Cole,

I drank in the bars where he would drink,

Sat deep in a corner stall,

I watched him mixing in company

I'd have warned him of, if I could,

But whenever I plucked the courage up

My tongue would turn to wood.

 

I heard his name start cropping up

With a gang in the old East End,

His mouth had taken a surly look

And he seemed like he needed a friend,

But his eyes were hard as the hardest flint

And his cheek was scarred to the bone,

He carried a blade and a razor strop

So I left him well alone.

 

His mother, Caroline, sought him out

And begged him to go with her,

I heard him laugh in a quick retort:

'Go home to the Governor?

You must be mad,' he told her then,

'He's not been a father to me!'

And Caroline cried, and dabbed at her eyes

While I watched from under a tree.

 

I turned away - 'Too late, too late,'

I thought, 'if she'd only seen

That blood was thicker than water...'

But all that was a might-have-been.

The tears sprang as I walked away

And rolled at my cheek, undone;

The dye was cast and the lad was lost

Before I could find my tongue.

 

He killed a man in a brawl one day

Over some cards that lied,

Was wrestled down to the floor and held

For the constable outside,

They took him down to the holding cells

And charged him there on the spot,

'It's Murder One, my lad, you'll need

All the guile that your lawyer's got.'

 

He went in front of the Bailey, where

The balance of justice stands,

The trial was over before he looked

On down at his trembling hands,

The Judge came back, put on the cap

So black, right over his head,

Delivered the dreaded few words that he heard,

And those were... 'hanged by the neck...'

 

I got to visit him only the once, down

Where the condemned man waits,

He scowled as I stood by the door, and said:

'Have you come with your measuring tapes?'

I said, 'No son, but I had to come,

To right a very old wrong...

By God in heaven, I'll tell you now -

I'm your father, and you're my son!'

 

I wept, he wept, and I left him there

To pay for his terrible crime,

And I... I took to my bed just then,

Pulled all the curtains and blinds,

A week, two weeks, I was woken then

With a summons, a time and place,

So I packed a bag in the early hours

Took up my travelling case.

 

At dawn, I walked through the prison yard

Was shown through the bars and gates,

I spread my gear in an empty cell,

And opened my travelling case,

They brought him down with the chaplain then

So brave, but a little sad,

As I pulled the hood down over his eyes

I swear that he called me - 'Dad!'

 

David Lewis Paget

 

Reviews

[C.T. Bailey]

This is a most incredible piece of writing. I shall ponder this until the morning. The saddness he must have felt. The lonliness the boy had as well...David...this is one of the most moving pieces I have ever read. Don't know what to say really. Speechless. Your mind is an amazing crucible of emotional creation.

Todd

[Dan Bullock]

The rhythm, the story telling and even your perception to keep this flowing for so long is massively commendable, fantastic writing, very strong....in fact that's probably an understatement.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

I love this sad-laden tale of wrongful seduction, isolation, retribution, and consolation. Jack Ketch is a character to pity, along with the son that he was never allowed to know. One feels sad for the road taken by Billy Cole due to the neglect that he suffered. At the end, however, there is a sense of forgiveness and consolation at the end when Jack hears Billy Cole call him "dad."

Such bittersweetness!

Linda Marie Van Tassell

[Valentine]

David, this is a terrific piece of writing and your surprise endings are always so moving they catch the reader unawares..You are so gifted I am proud to call you "friend" God bless and keep these amazing stories coming please..Valentine

[Poeticpiers]

You Sir are atale teller extraordinaire I know when I see your name attached to a poem It will presented as poetry ought to be metred and rhymed but with a coherent story contained theren.
As A fellow tale teller I salute your skill

[Silent Kim aka mizmetap..]

This another of your masterpieces. This story weaved so well, full of pain and regrets. What a lonely life for all who had to live with secrets, hidden for years.

your talent contiues to amaze me. Such great work.

[Collette]

Wow...I was just completely engrossed in this. The flow was perfect, and the tone was so bitter sweet. You spun an excellent tale! Thanks for sharing!

[Michael X]

wow david, I love the way this unfolded, you put a tremendous ammount of thought
into the entire storline, the form brings it to another level altogther,
and lays the idea out quite smoothely for what followed, the idea
presenting how things come full circle, brilliantly done. an excellent reading

[Mysty Rayn]

Your writing is like no other. It is really so impressive. Thank you so much for sharing this with me. I enjoyed the read very much.

[Chaos]

This is a wonderful piece. My friend recommended that I read this and I'm glad that she did because the flow was nice, but the message was hard. The way you told this story, I felt so much sadness for the son and the father. I enjoyed reading this piece.