Three Score and Ten

Brian Dawson, Lincolnshire: On Autumn Harvest ah011.
Old Songs & Bothy Ballads 8: The Little Ball of Yarn
Live from the Fife Traditional Singing Festival May 2011.

The song in memory of the fishermen of Grimsby and Hull who lost their lives in the gale of 8th and 9th of February 1889 was composed as a poem by Grimsby fisherman William Delf who published the text as a broadsheet. After losing a few verses and aquiring a fine chorus and tune, the song was collected in 1957 from master mariner J Pearson of Filey, a member of the Filey Fishermen's Choir who had preserved the song in their repertoire. The Watersons recorded the song and it became widely known in the folk revival of the 1960s.

William Delf was born at Wangford, Suffolk in 1851. As well as Three Score and Ten (not his title), he wrote verses about other fishing and lifeboat disasters at Hull, Withensea, Filey and Southport. In the original broadsheet of the song he lists some of the fleet that went down - The Eaton, John Witheringham, Sea Searcher, Sir Fred Roberts, British Workman, Kitten, Harold, Adventure and Olive Branch. In verse 3, like other Grimsby singers of today, Brian has taken some words from the original to add to the collected version.

1: Methinks I see some little craft,
Spreading their sails a-lee,
As down the Humber they do glide,
All bound for the Northern Sea;
Methinks I see on each small craft,
A crew with hearts so brave,
Going down to earn their daily bread,
Upon the restless waves.

Chorus:
And it's three score and ten,
Boys and men, were lost from Grimsby town,
From Yarmouth down to Scarborough,
Many hundreds more were drowned;
Our herring craft, our trawlers,
Our fishing smacks as well,
They long defied the bitter night,
And battled with the swell.

2: Methinks I see them yet again,
As they leave the land behind,
Casting their nets into the deep,
The herring shoals to find;
Methinks I see them yet again,
And all on board's all right,
With the sails close reefed and the decks cleared up,
And the side lights burning bright.

3: Me thinks I've heard the skipper say,
"Me lads, we'll shorten sail,
The sky to all appearances,
Is like an approaching gale."
Methinks I see them yet again,
And the midnight hour has passed,
And the little craft was battling there,
All with the icy blast.

4: October's night was such a sight,
'Twas never seen before,
There were masts and spars and broken yards,
Came drifting in to shore;
There was many a heart in sorrow,
There was many a heart so brave,
There was many a valiant fisher lad,
Did find a watery grave.

Chorus:
And it's three score and ten,
Boys and men, were lost from Grimsby town,
From Yarmouth down to Scarborough,
Many hundreds more were drowned;
Our herring craft, our trawlers,
Our fishing smacks as well,
They long defied the bitter night,
And battled with the swell.