Tag: slavery

Benny Greene

In the year of Our Lord Eighteen Hundred and Six
Young Benny Greene’s up to old tricks
Brewing beer in the sticks with old Billy Buck
He’s about to come into some luck

‘Cause Benny’s old neighbours, Sir Pat and Lady B
Got into a jam, needed a guarantee
Right place, right time, Billy said please
And the plantation owners handed over the keys

Benny Greene kept slaves
When Britannia ruled the waves
Yeah, Benny Greene kept slaves
It’s the price of a pint he says

Now Benny the brewer’s a slave owner too
A slave owner’s wealth is his to accrue
Arguing the toss in the local rag
That slavery ain’t so bad

But the people of Bury got fed up with Benny Greene
So he left young Eddie to run the brewery
And set up a West India company instead
The labour of slaves now his daily bread

Benny Greene kept slaves
When Britannia ruled the waves
Yeah, Benny Greene kept slaves
It’s the price of a pint he says

All good things lamented Benny Greene
When abolition came in 1833
But it turned out business barely took a hit
‘Cause there was compo, really quite a bit

You see, the thing about compensation in those days
Is it went to the owners and not the slaves
So they worked on the plantation, still engaged
But this time on a minimum wage

Benny Greene kept slaves
When Britannia ruled the waves
Yeah, Benny Greene kept slaves
It’s the price of a pint he says

While Eddie took the brewery and merged with Freddie King
Charlie went to St Kitts to do his thing
In all the pleasures of a slaver did he partake
Leaving thirteen bastards in his wake

Eddie became a Tory MP
Deputy Lieutentant and a JP
Master of the hunt, he would speak at great length
And the brewery went from strength to strength

Benny Greene kept slaves
When Britannia ruled the waves
Yeah, Benny Greene kept slaves
It’s the price of a pint he says

The business passed on to Walter Greene
Fortuitously born at the brewery
Hunting, driving and sailing yachts
While Lake built an empire ne’er to be forgot

The biggest brewer now in the UK
But there are reparations to be paid
For old Benny Greene’s slavery days
Not forgetting Charlies wayward ways

Benny Greene kept slaves
When Britannia ruled the waves
Yeah, Benny Greene kept slaves
It’s the price of a pint he says

The good folk of St Kitts have come to collect
The good folk of St Kitts say never forget
Put down your IPA and listen to their tale
There’s more than hops and barley in the story of your ale

Benny Greene kept slaves
When Britannia ruled the waves
Yeah, Benny Greene kept slaves
It’s the price of a pint he says

Put down your IPA and listen to their tale
There’s more than hops and barley in the story of your ale

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Nelson

In the kingdom of the blind
A one-eyed man is king
He wears a tricorn hat
And his right arm’s just a sling
They’ll pickle him in brandy
When his last race is run
And he’s shagging Lady Hamilton
In a pub they call The Gun

His pals in the West Indies
Are keen on keeping slaves
That damnable Wilberforce
Our one-eyed hero raves
I’ll fight him with both arm and tongue
The lifestyle he betrays
I’m old school colonialist
And Britannia rules the waves

In the kingdom of the blind
A one-eyed man is king
He wears a tricorn hat
And his right arm’s just a sling
One day there’ll be a column
Upon which he’ll proudly stand
And the blind eye will be ours
In this green and pleasant land

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Drax

As I was passing Charlborough House
I met a man who’d stopped to stare
I asked the stranger as we stood
What kind of folk live there
What kind of folk live there

The kind of folk live there, said he
Built the wall that now divides
Own all the land that you can see
And half of Dorsetshire besides
Half of Dorsetshire besides

Half of Dorsetshire besides, said I
And all the land that I can see
Pray tell me sir, what kind of folk
Have such economy?
Have such economy?

Such economy? Said he
Why that’s the home of Richard Drax
Whose family wealth was built upon
Thirty thousand broken backs
Thirty thousand broken backs

Thirty thousand broken backs, said I
Pray tell me what you mean
Does such a man of wealth and land
Have hands that aren’t kept clean?
Hands that aren’t kept clean?

Hands that aren’t kept clean? Said he
His money came from slavery
His hands are dirty as can be
Here’s a little history
A little history, said he

That history begins with James
Whose money came from sugar cane
A pioneer of the slave trade
And Drax Hall stands today
Drax Hall stands today

Drax Hall stands today, said he
And Drax plantation too
Where brother William took the trade
And their slave numbers grew
Their slave numbers grew

Their slave numbers grew, said he
Until there came the day
That slavery was banned, said he
But it was John Drax who got paid (a fortune)
John Drax who got paid

It was John Drax who got paid, said he
And not the former slaves
The owners compensated
Not the people freed from chains
Not the people freed from chains

Not the people freed from chains, said he
And Drax lives to this day
On the wealth of land worked by slaves
That he glibly waves away
He glibly waves away

He glibly waves away, said he
He denies his history
Says it was hundreds of years ago
Nothing to do with me, says he
Nothing to do with me

Nothing to do with me, said I
When his life’s such luxury
And owns half of Dorsetshire beside
Off the proceeds of slavery
The proceeds of slavery

As I was passing Charlborough House
I met a man who’d stopped to stare
So I asked the stranger what it was
That he was doing there
What are you doing there

What am I doing here, said he
I’ve come to settle the score
This day there might be just me
But one day there’ll be more
One day there’ll be more

One day there’ll be more, said he
One day then we’ll see
The attitudes of slavers
Join their statues in the sea
Join their statues in the sea

As I was passing Charlborough House,
I met a man who’d stopped to stare
And having heard his story
I stayed and joined him there
I stayed and joined him there

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Last Night of the Proms

“Patriotic songs matter” said the petition.
It’s this morning’s All Lives Matter edition.
Even if you don’t know all the words
And are der-der-der-ing by the second verse
Your life will be somehow diminished
If the Beeb change the way that The Proms are finished.

“They’re simply rousing British songs”
Not a catalogue of colonialism’s wrongs
Which are many, and the foundation
Of much of the wealth of this nation.
But we don’t want to talk about that
While we’re waving our plastic union jack.

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