Sunday, November 16, 2008



Aye well, now there we stood, eyes locked, wit’ naught but a hunk o’ cheese betwixt us. And who can say what either o’ us were thinkin’ at that moment

True love be a right waggish thing an’ life be brief enough indeed t’ pledge yer troth t’ jus’ one soul, ‘specially a landlocked Scotsman with a penchant fer war and an aversion t’ shoes. Takin’ that leap be akin t’ lookin’ down from th’ top mos’ ratlin’s in a gale force wind an’ hopin’ fer more’n an unblest outcome. But right then I knew as well as I e’er would that we had forged an unbreakable bond, one made o’ fondness, cheese an’ hope.

O’ course takin’ responsibility fer me an’ bein’ set free were two entirely different things. And all his loyalty earned him were an asylum stay beside me until the babe were born.

Now, th’ fact that there weren’t no bairn was a sitchy-ation what confused me but, like Merlyn pointed out, all that time chained up in a piss-soaked cell wit’ naught t’ occupy our time were bound t’ lead t’ somethin’.

And I figure that probably weren’t a good thing t’ remind me of.

Our trial now bein’ dismissed an’ our sentence set forth we turned under armed guard
t’ face our destiny. MacGregor reached o’er t’ take holt o’ me hand and his felt warm and strong...and somehow good. It ain’t like me t’ allow such a thing.

So ‘twere then I did th’ only thing I knew t’ put things right. I lunged fer th’ nearest Scot’s dirk and wit' a last look in me husband's eyes plunged it int’ th’ liver o’ th’ Brit what held me under guard.

Then ran like hell.

Ded Aim were waitin’ wit’ a long boat on th’ far side o’ th’ quay as I knew she would be and passed me off as a grommet t’ th’ crew. And from there we rowed from shore toward her waitin’ ship.

I knew better’n t’ look back. Know ye, I ain't entirely made o' stone.

Now, there be a great many o’ ye what keeps askin’ why fer th’ love o’ Neptune did I not jus’ shut me gob an’ play their game? “Twould o’ been easily done.

I only hav’ this in response.

When all’s said an’ done an’ th’ sun drops ‘neath th’ horizon I’d sooner hear th’ snap o’ me own neck as th’ trap door opened beneath me boots than t’ e’er betray me own self.

A piddlin’ length o’ hempen rope held by a gutless rat bast’d hidin’ behind a weapon o’ his own cowardice ain’t ne’er goin’ t’ be enough t’ see Violet Moorfields hanged.

I sail where th’ wind takes me.

For I am a pirate.


by: Violet Moorfields

* Set t’ a tune inside me head...
An’ wit’ me bein’ a musician...naught...I canna help ye more’n that...
But I do encourage all me minstrel friends t' pillage this song and sing it freely so that the legend of Violet may live on.....

Come all ye young fellows
What follows th’ Sea
And take in this tale
That I set forth t’ ye
‘Tis about a young lass
Who did pay a great fee
Th’ hangin’ o’ Violet Moorfields

Now Violet were a pirate
Who played a fine role
Plunderin’ treasure
None o’ it she did dole
Four thousand doubloons
She buried deep in a hole
Th’ hangin’ o’ Violet Moorfields

There was a great price now
Set upon her red head
And many’s the man now
Who wished she were dead
But not until after they’d
Asked her to wed
Th’ hangin’ o’ Violet Moorfields

Her firey soul was what
Led to her doom
They broadsided her ship
At a quarter ‘till noon
The last thing she heard was
The cannon go BOOM!
Th’ hangin’ o’ Violet Moorfields

Without ceremony
They held them a trial
When they asked her t’ speak now
Well she did but smile
It drove them quite mad
Oh, that pirate was vile
Th’ hangin’ o’ Violet Moorfields

She were smug as a cat now
And calm as ye please
She looked at th’ Captain
And asked him fer cheese
They would o’ shot her right there
For she were a big tease
Th’ hangin’ o’ Violet Moorfields

Well she ne’er would say now
Where she hid th’ loot
So they built up a scaffold
Right under her boot
Th’ rope it were hempen
They did not use jute
Th’ hangin’ o’ Violet Moorfields

After her neck snapped
There were nary a sound
They opened the trap door
And she hit the ground
But when they got there
She were not t’ be found
Th’ hangin’ o’ Violet Moorfields

Some say what happened
Now it weren’t couth
Th’ British had spoken
An’ took ‘way her youth
But all that was left
Were a lone golden tooth
Th’ hangin’ o’ Violet Moorfields

So come all ye young fellows
And learn from this tale
If thou art a pirate
Ye’ll end up in jail
But play yer cards right
An’ e’ermore will ye sail
Th’ hangin’ o’ Violet Moorfields...

Th’ hangin’ o’ Violet Moorfields...

Th’ hangin’ o’ Violet...Mooor...fields...


Legend has it that if ye possess th’ infamous Gold Tooth, treasure an’ good fortune will be yours ‘till th’ end o’ your days...which is why, t’ this very day, ye’ll see pirates flashin’ a single golden tooth in th’ hopes that it might have once belonged t’ Violet...

Some say that Violet were so evil when her body hit th’ ground she did descend straight away t’ Hell...

There are others what say her husband, Malcolm MacGregor, were waitin’ fer his one true beloved an’ took away her body to be buried in secret...

And then there are others...others who know th’ truth...

*********** ~VM

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Th’ hangin’ o’ Violet Moorfields...

Just love good tale
best of all was there
to share the days o' hangin' o'
Violet Moorfield.....
I be not telln' the true endin'
will I?
Mad Peg