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WHEN THE REFORMATION RAN AGROUND

from THAT PASSED by Patrick Regan Band

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lyrics

WHEN THE REFORMATION RAN AGROUND

When the Reformation ran aground
On the coast of a howling wilderness
There was little left of summer then,
in sixteen ninety-six
When the Reformation ran aground

She was bound for Pennsylvania
From Port Royal in Jamaica
In a company of thirteen sail
With a frigate armed against the French
Bound for Pennsylvania

But we lay becalmed for seven days
Then the Reformation went astray
Lost an anchor, lost our company
And the master broke his leg
In the first storm, off Havana Bay

Among the Quaker’s slaves there was an Indian girl
She was taken with fits for hours before she died
The Havana lay behind us when we cast her over the side
Her name was Venus

And I heard a hurricane in her cries
And I watched our luck run out in her eyes
With the master down it was Dickinson
tried to raise our spirits up
But in the wind and water I heard her cries

O we called upon the lord on high
For the lord on high is mightier
Than the voice of many waters
Yea, than the mighty waves of the sea
O we called upon the lord on high

And we prayed all night for break of day
With the storm waves breaking over the deck
There were seabirds in the hen coops and a flood
in the cabins of the wreck
When the morning broke on Florida

It was sand and scrub and nothing more
Like the moon compared to England
And by nightfall we were shivering
while they danced round a fire in our clothes
That was just the start and nothing more

Every day the Hoe-bays held us there
And after them a tribe called Ais
Every time they drank the black drink, or they
looked at us crosswise
There were some of us feared for our lives




Oh it startled Jonathan Dickinson
When he heard “English son of a bitch!”
From the Spanish words and the gibberish, darting out
like a weasel from a ditch
In the angry voice of an Indian

Among the Quaker’s slaves there was an Indian girl
She was taken with fits for hours before she died
The Havana lay behind us when we cast her over the side
Her name was Venus

The dark places of the earth are full
Of the habitations of cruelty
Both the Quaker man and the African
who were joined by slavery
Feared the cruel jaws of the cannibal

And the Quaker feared for his little child
In the hands of those we’d fallen among
As the native women nursed the babe, and he grew
both fat and strong
The Quaker feared he’d grow up wild

We were starved and beaten, but none was killed
It was no worse than the navy
It was cold and rain and the long march north,
two hundred thirty miles
Killed the few who died along the way

Among the Quaker’s slaves there was an Indian girl
She was taken with fits for hours before she died
The Havana lay behind us when we cast her over the side
Her name was Venus

In November we made Augustine
And we left in Spanish colors
We reached Charles Town at Christmas time
With a tale worth a bottle all around
Then my mates and I shipped out again

When the Reformation ran aground
On the coast of a howling wilderness
There was little left of summer then,
in sixteen ninety-six
When the Reformation ran aground

credits

from THAT PASSED, released January 14, 2023
Copyright Patrick S. Regan

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Patrick Regan Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur, France

A songwriter and singer, I'm handy enough to be a one-man band but lucky enough to rope in great collaborators: Andy Goessling, Dave Pegg, Dave Mattacks, John Andrews, Shannon Anderson, and more.

This is one place I'm preserving and publishing the best of my songs. Look for new releases here throughout 2024. ... more

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