This is the story of Bertie Bucket
A highway man of daring and some notoriety
Who plied his trade around Rye and Hawkhurst
In 1740 but he was not that good you see
He came from a long line of Buckets
There were ten of them in all
His parents were a steadfast couple who had ten children
Five brothers, four sisters and one I cannot recall
He started stealing from an early age
About ten or twelve I think
He stole the purse of a well know judge
Which created such a stink
He ran away to the town of Rye
Where he found work as a stable boy
And learned to ride a horse quite well
And to be a Highway man was the ploy
So in a few years, five or six or so
He started his life of criminality
With his trusty new steed Old Bess a big black mare
They became a team you see
He rode the trails from Rye to Dungeness
Robbing Travelers Coaches and the like
The problem was the authorities
Never could find out where he would strike
On one such daring escapade
Everything went wrong that could
Whilst pulling his pistol from out of his belt
It went off and Bess galloped off into the nearby wood
It only just missed from shooting his toe off
His boot was quite a mess
So off he went licking his wounds
In a state of great distress
A few days later he was back again
And tried to hold up a coach
But the coachman was not so easily scared
And Bertie was full of self reproach
But his luck ran out one fateful night
At the Tavern the old Mermaid Inn in Rye
He was captured by the local militia
He could not escape how hard he did try
He was up in court before the Judge
Whose purse he had stolen years before
So he was sentenced to Hang as soon as it could be arranged
But a gale force wind broke down the court door
He leapt from the dock and was out in a flash
Grabbed a nearby horse and galloped away with speed
Out into the darkness never to be seen again
So any would be Highwaymen take heed.
2d ago
Jun 2, 2026 at 12:35 PM UTC
This is the story of Bertie Bucket
A highway man of daring and some notoriety
Who plied his trade around Rye and Hawkhurst
In 1740 but he was not that good you see
He came from a long line of Buckets
There were ten of them in all
His parents were a steadfast couple who had ten children
Five brothers, four sisters and one I cannot recall
He started stealing from an early age
About ten or twelve I think
He stole the purse of a well know judge
Which created such a stink
He ran away to the town of Rye
Where he found work as a stable boy
And learned to ride a horse quite well
And to be a Highway man was the ploy
So in a few years, five or six or so
He started his life of criminality
With his trusty new steed Old Bess a big black mare
They became a team you see
He rode the trails from Rye to Dungeness
Robbing Travelers Coaches and the like
The problem was the authorities
Never could find out where he would strike
On one such daring escapade
Everything went wrong that could
Whilst pulling his pistol from out of his belt
It went off and Bess galloped off into the nearby wood
It only just missed from shooting his toe off
His boot was quite a mess
So off he went licking his wounds
In a state of great distress
A few days later he was back again
And tried to hold up a coach
But the coachman was not so easily scared
And Bertie was full of self reproach
But his luck ran out one fateful night
At the Tavern the old Mermaid Inn in Rye
He was captured by the local militia
He could not escape how hard he did try
He was up in court before the Judge
Whose purse he had stolen years before
So he was sentenced to Hang as soon as it could be arranged
But a gale force wind broke down the court door
He leapt from the dock and was out in a flash
Grabbed a nearby horse and galloped away with speed
Out into the darkness never to be seen again
So any would be Highwaymen take heed.
Just a few lines of thought
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