Jack Ketch Poem by David Lewis Paget

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, time and a 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! '

24 September 2008