Women of Fishguard by Harri Webb
A few days ago I wrote about the Last Invasion of Britain, knowing it's a little-known story from history. However, to my surprise, Val remembered a poem about it and what's more managed to find the whole poem in a book called Rampage and Revel by Welsh poet, journalist and nationalist Harri Webb . Here's the poem:
The Emperor Naploeon
He sent his ships of war
With spreading sails
To conquer Wales
And land on Fishguard shore
But Jemima, she was waiting
With her broomstick in her hand
And all the other women, too,
To guard their native land.
For the Russians and the Prussians
He did not give a damn
But he took on more than he bargained for
When he tried it on with Mam.
Their cloaks were good red flannel
Their hats were black and tall
They looked just like brave soldiers
And were braver than them all.
The Frenchmen took one look at them
And in panic they did flee,
Cried oo-la-la, and then ta-ta
And jumped into the sea,
And said to one another
As back to France they swam
We’d have stayed at home if we’d only known
That we’d have to take on Mam.
The Emperor Napoleon
He was a man of note,
His hat was sideways on his head,
His hand inside his coat,
When he heard the news from Fishguard
His sorrow was complete,
Oh Josephine, What can it mean?
My soldiers all are beat!
I’ll make this proclamation,
Though a conqueror I am
You can conquer all creation
But you’ll never conquer Mam!
The poem, though delightful, doesn't quite accord with the facts (as I know them, anyway) - the version I read in the museum in Tenby says that Napoleon was offered the command of this invasion force, but turned it down, which is why they ended up with Tate, who didn't speak French and was slightly past his prime at seventy-something. But, as Sellar and Yeatman say in 1066 and All That, history is what we can remember, and Webb's version makes a much better poem.
Harri Webb was born in 1920, died in 1994, and this poem is from a collection published in 1977, though it reads like something written rather earlier. Apparently Harri Webb chose this style deliberately to gain a wider audience. It's in traditional ballad metre, I notice (dragging up my Eng Lit past) which means it goes
de dum de dum de dum de dum
de dum de dum de dum
de dum de dum de dum de dum
de dum de dum de dum
and this is a rhythm which the English language fits into very easily. Though I'm not underestimating the skill needed to write good, simple verse, believe me - this metre so easily lapses into dull doggerel in unskilled hands. I love the energy of Harri Webb's poem and its very satisfying rhymes "With spreading sails/To conquer Wales/And land on Fishguard's shore".
Grateful thanks to Val for sending me the poem: I shall learn it and then I'll always have it.
The Emperor Naploeon
He sent his ships of war
With spreading sails
To conquer Wales
And land on Fishguard shore
But Jemima, she was waiting
With her broomstick in her hand
And all the other women, too,
To guard their native land.
For the Russians and the Prussians
He did not give a damn
But he took on more than he bargained for
When he tried it on with Mam.
Their cloaks were good red flannel
Their hats were black and tall
They looked just like brave soldiers
And were braver than them all.
The Frenchmen took one look at them
And in panic they did flee,
Cried oo-la-la, and then ta-ta
And jumped into the sea,
And said to one another
As back to France they swam
We’d have stayed at home if we’d only known
That we’d have to take on Mam.
The Emperor Napoleon
He was a man of note,
His hat was sideways on his head,
His hand inside his coat,
When he heard the news from Fishguard
His sorrow was complete,
Oh Josephine, What can it mean?
My soldiers all are beat!
I’ll make this proclamation,
Though a conqueror I am
You can conquer all creation
But you’ll never conquer Mam!
The poem, though delightful, doesn't quite accord with the facts (as I know them, anyway) - the version I read in the museum in Tenby says that Napoleon was offered the command of this invasion force, but turned it down, which is why they ended up with Tate, who didn't speak French and was slightly past his prime at seventy-something. But, as Sellar and Yeatman say in 1066 and All That, history is what we can remember, and Webb's version makes a much better poem.
Harri Webb was born in 1920, died in 1994, and this poem is from a collection published in 1977, though it reads like something written rather earlier. Apparently Harri Webb chose this style deliberately to gain a wider audience. It's in traditional ballad metre, I notice (dragging up my Eng Lit past) which means it goes
de dum de dum de dum de dum
de dum de dum de dum
de dum de dum de dum de dum
de dum de dum de dum
and this is a rhythm which the English language fits into very easily. Though I'm not underestimating the skill needed to write good, simple verse, believe me - this metre so easily lapses into dull doggerel in unskilled hands. I love the energy of Harri Webb's poem and its very satisfying rhymes "With spreading sails/To conquer Wales/And land on Fishguard's shore".
Grateful thanks to Val for sending me the poem: I shall learn it and then I'll always have it.
posted by Daphne at 7:40 pm
4 Comments:
It was great to se this poem again, I seem to remember being asked to recite it for the school Eisteddfod which would have been about 1977. I had forgotten most of it so seing it on your blogg today was great. Cheers.
Brilliant, I learnt this poem in my last year of junior school in 1980. And have been wanting to find it for years as I could only remember some of the lines.
I am now a serving member of the territorial army based in Carmarthen, West Wales. It is our Pembroke Yeomanry Squaron's descendents that were sent to Fishgaurd to see off the French, there are many stories surrounding this event, which are probably much more interesting than the truth. We carry the battle honours for the last battle fought on British soil.
I ,myself am not Welsh, but my mother was raised Welsh and my wife's father was Welsh. In the 1990s we visited Wales and in spite of the weather (I am Australian)and the other difficulties I felt very much at home. I even tried to learn Welsh, but at my age it was too hard. However I felt a close kinship with Wales, and bought a tape entitled "This is Wales" which contained this poem and another entitled "English Standards do not apply" I would love to be able to get another copy of this tape/CD. Many thanks for the memory.
John Barwick
Heard this poem recited on BBC Wales and West many years ago (by Harri himself?). Great to come across it again (before the Guardian article)
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