In Folkestone Town some years ago,
As honest tales relate,
A wond'rous animal arriv'd,
That caused a great debate.

Some thought it was the Devil's imp,
And some a witch disguised:
Some feard it was old Satan's self -
But all were much surpris'd.

It settled in a field of wheat,
Near Jacob's Mount so high,
And scream'd until it made the cliff
To echo far and nigh.

The news into the Town was brought,
And rais'd such great alarms,
That all the valiant Folkestone men
Betook themselves to arms

The gracious Mayor led on the van,
With Jurats four or five;
While sneaking people kept the rear,
To take the thing alive.

The sprat nets first around the field
They spread in proper row;
And then they shouted "Boat-a-hoy!"
to raise the fiery foe.

The Monster clapp'd its mighty wings,
And flew above the nets;
And then the valiant Folkestone men
Were frightened into fits.

"Gadzooks" exclaim'd the Mayor so wise,
"She spits out flames of fire,
I lay you'd caughter had the nets
Been up a little higher -

"Pray Master Boxer tell the truth,
What can this monster be?
For I that have my wisdom tooth,
Did ne'er such Monster see, -"

In Broad Street Master Boxer liv'd'
By trade he mended shoes;
He was the greatest wit in Town,
And could explain the news: -

He read the paper every bit,
Except hard words where shown,
Could calculate the Nation's debt,
And never paid his own.

A trav'ller bold was Boxer brave,
The foreign world had seen;
For twice within his life he had
To Canterbury been.

Said Master Boxer to the Mayor,
"This Monster we behold,
This is a fiery serpent, Sir,
With scales of blue and gold.

Your worship in a good large cask
We up the hill will roll,
And then the bung remov'd you'll fire,
A musket through the hole.

"And when the Serpent fierce alights,
You'll shoot it through the head;
And if you shoot it hard enough,
I lay you'll shoot it dead.

"Oh don't be too courageous, love"
His Worship's wife did say,
"For if you fires, and misses fire,
You're a dead man today."

Then said the Mayor " A butcher bold
And Folkestone's Mayor am I, -
But if I was a common man,
The Sarpint I'd defy.

"Grim death is not a partial man,
A Sergeant bold is he,
And might arrest a Cinque Port man
In his Mayoralty.

"Therefore, my love, go home, fear not,
Retire and mind the shop;
You shall not find your peace at stake"
He said and kiss'd her chop.

"But Master Boxer in the cask
Shall to the spot be led,
And if you would the Sarpint kill,
Pray kill it in the head."

So Master Boxer in the cask
Was placed, tho' rather stout;
When soon the cask with Boxer in't,
Began to roll about.

And sore affrighted Boxer was,
And well he might so be,
For nearly had he tumbled from
The cliff into the sea.

Then Master Boxer was releas'd
And consultation held,
That this same fiery sprite
Be otherwise expell'd.

Many a plan was set afoot,
"Till last they did contrive
To set the field on fire and burn
The fiery thing alive.

So fifty pounds they gather'd up,
The value of the corn,
And swore on Monday morning next
The fiery thing would burn.

The house tops first they ov'r bedaubed
With coats of tallow thick,
That if the Serpent settled there
A slip would break his neck.

The chimney holes were covered up,
That it might not descend;
They fastened down the window frames,
And did the doors defend.

The women this employment took,
Whilst all the Townsmen brave
The wheat field did besiege around
With gun, sword, spike and stave.

The Reverend Priest his counsel gave -
"Your sins are great" said he;
"You've sinn'd against your Maker, oh!
You've sinned against me.

"Your tithe you do not freely pay,
At Church to sleep you fall;
And therefore ha this Serpent brought
A judgement on you all.

"This night pay all arrears of tithe,
And all my other dues;
Then some spiritual comfort I
To give shall not refuse.

"Tomorrow early come to Church,
And then I'll plainly tell,
How Moses in the wilderness
Such Serpents did expel."

When Phoebus bright his rosy face
Did o're Copt Point display,
And charming bells at early hour,
Proclaim'd the Sabbath day,

So crowded then was Folkestone Church
'Twas ne'er so full before;
And if I judge the case,
'Twill be so full no more.

But still the Sepent's dreaded voice
Resounded in each ear;
And various projects of defence,
were plann'd as well as pray'r.

A guard was on the Church door plac'd -
All chosen me of might;
Arm'd cap-a-pie and loud they swore
While life remain'd to fight.

A hole was in the ceiling made,
A bell rope put there through;
All in the reach of the old Clerk,
As he sat in his pew.

While in the gallery upstood
Those who could loudest shout
With bassons, clarinets and flutes,
Whose noise might make a rout.

That if the Serpent came, the din
Might fright him back again;
The bell-rope and the singing men
Until this day remain.

Before they left the seats in Church,
Too terrified to pray,
In consultation close again
They joined without delay.

Then said the Deputy - "my wig!
I think t'will be but fair,
Before we set the field on fire
To ask the Dover Mayor.

"His Worship's far and near renown'd
For wit and courage too;
And his advice, now danger's near,
'Tis better that we knew.

"So let us have a letter wrote,
And ask his Worship over;
And send old thomas Sallender,
This night with it to Dover."

But who the letter was to write;
Did puzzle them full sore,
For few could read - of those that wrote
There were not many more.

At last from Hythe a scribe was found,
The letter was begun;
And as the true Traditions tell,
Th' Epistle thus did run:-

"Rite warthy mare we grates you weal,
And All your fellers two;
For we are trubbled sore, and so
We nose not what to do.

"For here as cum'd a Sarpint fears
As spouts out flames like scinder;
And if we cannot burn her up
She'll burn us down to tinder.
"We sends this by our old Town Crier,
A man of grate renown;
Drest in his own best curling whig,
He purchased in your town.

"So kum we pray and help us awl,
Or we must soon despare -
We loafing brothers the Jew Rats be,
And xb the Folkestone Mayor."

To Dover quick a herring boat
Cut through the water's space -
Propitious were the wind and tide
To bring it to the place.

The Dover Mayor the letter read
With wonder and surprise;
"Call a Town Meeting instantly,
In Market Place", he cries.

Then did the Crier's bell full loud
Ring music and resound;
While he, in gold lac'd hat and and coat,
Proclaim'd the news around.

All in a bustle was the town,
From Castle to the Pier, -
The letter from the Folkestone Mayor
Each strove the first to hear.

They crowded soon the Market Place,
Till like a bee-hive full -
The Worthy Mayor to make his speech,
Was mounted on a stool.

"Good men and women folk", he cried,
"Attend, I pray, to me;
For here's the strangest accident
That I ever did see.

"This letter from my noble friend
The Mayor of Folkestone came,
You see he's put xb, which is
The way he writes his name.

"He says that how a Serpent fierce
Is come that spouts out fire;
And we must go and kill it dead,
For that is his desire.

"So let us all to Folkestone haste
And show our val-rous might;
And blow this Fiery Serpent up,
Or shoot him dead outright."

His Worship then to Folkestone went,
With children not a few;
And with the wise old women went
The Corporation too.

And lest the Serpent they should see,
They row'd with all their might;
Till on the strand these troops appear'd
The fiery beast to fight.

Besides these march'd a numerous tribe
Both young and old to boot
With arms of pitchforks, scythes and oars,
To Folkestone Town on foot.

Then to the Town Hall they repair'd
With visages so grave;
While consultation deep was held,
The threaten'd Town to save.

"The Sarpint fierce let's catch alive,"
Said the Dover Mayor with glee,
"And tie a great stone round his neck
And throw him in the sea."

"Ha, ha, hum, hum!" said the Folkestone Mayor,
"No no, that must not be!
What will become of us if it
Sets fire unto the sea.

"Pray take it over to your town,
Where stuck upon Pier Head,
Discharge Queen Bess's Pocket Piece
Until you kill it dead."

Quoth Dover Mayor, "Good Folkestone Mayor,
Such scheme I ne'er must try;
And sure a better one than that,
I have in my mind's eye.

"For brother Mayor, pray don't you think
Twill be a better plan,
To send it o'er to Calais Green
And fire upon it then."

Then said the Deputy, "My friends,
At least make haste to take it;
And if we find it fast asleep,
We'll kill it then we'll wake it."

Before they got to Jacob's Mount,
The Serpent loud did cry;
"Come now my men," said Dover Mayor,
"Your courage you must try.

"Bring all your pails of water full,
And set them round about;
For then if it sets us on fire,
We'll put each other out."

They formed a circle round the field
First march'd the men with guns;
And when the Serpent they drew nigh,
They all let fly at once.

And then betook them to their heels
As fast as they could run;
Many a woman, man and child,
In haste were overthrown.

The Mayor of Dover headlong roll'd
The Jurats o'er him fell;
But all the bruised and maim'd that day
My muse could never tell.

But all who fell and who escap'd,
So much did fear prevail,
Believ'd the fiery Serpent foe,
Was just upon his tail.

They did not stop until to Town
They safely did arrive;
And then to rank the scatter'd force
The valiant Mayor did strive.

Then scouts were sent to see if they
The Serpent could espy;
By slow approaches near and near,
To Jacob's Mount they hie.

When low upon his back they saw
Their enemy was laid;
Tho' dead it seem'd they trembling all
T'approach it were afraid.

At length a scout his casting net
Did o'er the Serpent throw;
And off he went to tell the Mayor -
"I've caught the fiery foe."

Meanwhile the rest brought Boxer's cask
And o'er the Serpent placed;
When soon the brethren Mayors were seen
Approaching in great haste.

"Now brother Mayor," said Dover Mayor,
"Into the bung-hole peep
Tell us what the Monster is
That so disturbed your sleep."

"Fie brother Mayor," said Folkestone Mayor,
You should peep first at him;
For Folkestone Town is only call'd
Of Dover Town a limb."

"You're the oldest man." said Dover Mayor,
"And therefore first should spy;
And here you are Chief Magistrate,
A Foreigner am I."

Much did they wrangle who the first
Should through the bung-hole look;
At last the Dover Mayor advanced,
Though lie a leaf he shook.

When starting back amazed, he cried -
"The Serpent, I declare,
Is nothing but a large Peacock,
As sure as I'm a Mayor."

Great was the joy in Folkestone Town,
With feasting amd good cheer;
A Fair has ever since been held
That day, called Gooseberry Fair.

In memory of this great event,
The church was white-washed blue;
The Serpent's effigy became
A weather-cock so true.

The white-wash wore from off the Church,
THe weather-cock remains
Upon the steeple's top - and still
A Serpent's form retains.

The Fair unto this day is held
In each succeeding year;
And many a lass with heavy heart,
Remembers Gooseberry Fair.

The story through the country ran,
As stories always do;
And Turkey - Folkestone Town was called,
And Turks the men so true.

The men of Dover to some fame
Had a small claim at least;
And in the neighbourhood were called
"The wise men of the East."

So heaven protect the Folkestone Turks,
From Serpents keep them free!
And when another monster comes,
May I be there to see.