Every soul there mounted his horse, 10
Hoping next day to fill them with dread;
Yet I swear by St. Patrick's cross,
We most shamefully was routed:
Fortune was pleased to give us a frown,
And blasted our glory: I'll tell you the story, 15
By Chreest and St. Patrick we all go down.
We thought to slay them all in their sleep,
But by my shoul, were never the near,
The hereticks their guard did so keep,
Which put us in a trembling fear. 20
We concluded something further,
To seize the churches all in the town,
With killing and slaying, while they were a praying,
But we were routed, and soon run down.
Nay, before noon, we vowed to despatch 25
Every man, nay, woman and child;
This in our hearts we freely did hatch,
Vowing to make a prey of the spoil.
But we straightways was prevented,
When we did hope for fame and renown; 30
In less than an hour we [are] forcéd to scoure;
By Chreest and St. Patrick, we are run down.
We were resolved Reading to clear,
Having in hand the flourishing sword;
The bloody sceen was soon to appear, 35
For we did then but wait for the word:
While the ministers were preaching,
We were resolved to have at their gown;
But straight was surrounded, and clearly confounded,
By Chreest and St. Patrick, we all go down. 40
Just as we all were fit to fall on,
In came the Dutch with fury and speed;
And amongst them there was not a man,
But what was rarely mounted indeed;
And rid up as fierce as tygers, 45
Knitting their brows, they on us did frown;
Not one of them idle, their teeth held their bridle,
By Chreest and St. Patrick, we were run down.
They never stood to use many words,
But in all haste up to us they flocked, 50
In their right hands their flourishing swords,
And their left carbines ready cock'd.
We were forced to fly before them,
Thorow the lanes and streets of the town;
While they pursued after, and threaten'd a slaughter, 55
By Chreest and St. Patrick, we were run down.
Then being fairly put to the rout,
Hunted and drove before 'um like dogs,
Our captain bid us then face about,
But we wisht for our Irish bogs. 60
Having no great mind for fighting,
The Dutch did drive us thorow the town;
Our foreheads we crossed, yet still was unhorsed,
By Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down.
We threw away our swords and carbines, 65
Pistols and cloaks lay strow'd on the lands;
Cutting off boots for running, uds-doyns,
One pair of heels was worth two pair of hands.
Then we called on sweet St. Coleman,[L69]
Hoping he might our victory crown; 70
But Dutchmen pursuing poor Teagues to our ruin,
By Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down.
Never was Teagues in so much distress,
As the whole world may well understand;
When we came here, we thought to possess 75
Worthy estates of houses and land:
But we find 'tis all a story,
Fortune is pleased on us to frown:
Instead of our riches, we stink in our breeches,
By Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down. 80
They call a thing a three-legged mare,
Where they will fit each neck with a nooze,
Then with our beads to say our last prayer,
After all this to die in our shoes.
Thence we pack to purgatory; 85
For us let all the Jesuits pray;
Farewell, Father Peters, here's some of your creatures
Would have you to follow the self-same way.
69, Edward Coleman, hanged at Tyburn in 1678, for his participation in
the Popish Plot.--CROKER.
UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY.
The story of the siege of Londonderry, "the most memorable in the
annals of the British isles," is eloquently told in the twelfth
chapter of Macaulay's _History of England_. It lasted one hundred and
five days, from the middle of April to the first of August (1689).
During that time the garrison had been reduced from about seven
thousand men to about three thousand. Famine and pestilence slew more
than the fire of the enemy. In the last month of the siege, there was
scarcely any thing left to eat in the city but salted hides and
tallow. The price of a dog's paw was five shillings and sixpence, and
rats that had fed on the bodies of the dead were eagerly hunted and
slain. The courage and self-devotion of the defenders, animated by a
lofty public spirit and sustained by religious zeal, were at last
rewarded by a glorious triumph, and will never cease to be celebrated
with pride and enthusiasm by the Protestants of Ireland.
The ballad is here given as printed in Croker's _Historical Songs of
Ireland_, p. 46, from a black letter copy in the British Museum. The
whole title runs thus: _Undaunted Londonderry; or, the Victorious
Protestants' constant success against the proud French and Irish
Forces_. _To the Tune of Lilli Borlero._
Protestant boys, both valliant and stout,
Fear not the strength and frown of Rome,
Thousands of them are put to the rout,
Brave Londonderry tells 'um their doom.
For their cannons roar like thunder, 5
Being resolved the town to maintain
For William and Mary, still brave Londonderry
Will give the proud French and Tories their bane.
Time after time, with powder and balls,
Protestant souls they did 'um salute, 10
That before Londonderry's stout walls
Many are slain and taken to boot.
Nay, their noble Duke of Berwick,[L13]
Many reports, is happily tane,
Where still they confine him, and will not resign him,
Till they have given the Tories their bane. 16
Into the town their bombs they did throw,
Being resolved to fire the same,
Hoping thereby to lay it all low,
Could they but raise it into a flame. 20
But the polititious Walker,[L21]
By an intreague did quail them again,
And blasted the glory of French, Teague, and Tory;
By policy, boys, he gave them their bane.
Thundering stones they laid on the wall, 25
Ready against the enemy came,
With which they vow'd the Tories to mawl,
Whene'er they dare approach but the same.
And another sweet invention,
The which in brief I reckon to name; 30
A sharp, bloody slaughter did soon follow after,
Among the proud French, and gave them their bane.
Stubble and straw in parcels they laid,
The which they straightways kindled with speed;
By this intreague the French was betrayed, 35
Thinking the town was fired indeed.
Then they placed their scaling ladders,
And o'er the walls did scour amain;
Yet strait, to their wonder, they were cut in sunder,
Thus Frenchmen and Tories met with their bane. 40
Suddenly then they opened their gate,
Sallying forth with vigor and might;
And, as the truth I here may relate,
Protestant boys did valliantly fight,
Taking many chief commanders, 45
While the sharp fray they thus did maintain,
With vigorous courses, they routed their forces,
And many poor Teagues did meet with their bane.
While with their blood the cause they have sealed,
Heaven upon their actions did frown; 50
Protestants took the spoil of the field,
Cannons full five they brought to the town.
With a lusty, large, great mortar,
Thus they returned with honor and gain,
While Papists did scour from Protestant power, 55
As fearing they all should suffer their bane.
In a short time we hope to arrive
With a vast army to Ireland,
And the affairs so well we'll contrive
That they shall ne'er have power to stand 60
Gainst King William and Queen Mary,
Who on the throne does flourish and reign;
We'll down with the faction that make the distraction,
And give the proud French and Tories their bane.
13. In a sally which was made by the garrison towards the end of April,
the Duke of Berwick is said to have received a slight wound in the back.
21. The Rev. George Walker, rector of the parish of Donaghmore, the
hero of the defence. His statue now stands on a lofty pillar, rising
from a bastion which for a long time sustained the heaviest fire of the
besiegers.
PR[OE]LIUM GILLICRANKIANUM. See p. 152.
From Johnson's _Museum_, p. 105.
Grahamius notabilis coegerat montanos,
Qui clypeis et gladiis fugarunt Anglicanos;
Fugerant Vallicolæ, atque Puritani,
Cacavere Batavi et Cameroniani.
Grahamius mirabilis, fortissimus Alcides,
Cujus regi fuerat intemerata fides,
Agiles monticolas marte inspiravit,
Et duplicatum numerum hostium profligavit.
Nobilis apparuit Fermilodunensis,
Cujus in rebelles stringebatur ensis;
Nobilis et sanguine, nobilior virtute,
Regi devotissimus intus et in cute.
Pitcurius heroicus, Hector Scoticanus,
Cui mens fidelis fuerat et invicta manus,
Capita rebellium, is excerebravit,
Hostes unitissimos ille dimicavit.
Glengarius magnanimus atque bellicosus,
Functus ut Eneas, pro rege animosus,
Fortis atque strenuus, hostes expugnavit,
Sanguine rebellium campos coloravit.
Surrexerat fideliter Donaldus Insulanus,
Pugnaverat viriliter, cum copiis Skyanis,
Pater atque filii non dissimularunt,
Sed pro rege proprio unanimes pugnarunt.
Macleanius, circumdatus tribo martiali,
Semper, devinctissimus familiæ regali,
Fortiter pugnaverat, more atavorum,
Deinde dissipaverat turmas Batavorum.
Strenuus Lochielius, multo Camerone,
Hostes ense peremit, et abrio pugione;
Istos et intrepidos Orco dedicavit,
Impedimenta hostium Blaro reportavit.
Macneillius de Bara, Glencous Kepochanus,
Ballechinus, cum fratre, Stuartus Apianus,
Pro Jacobo Septimo fortiter gessere,
Pugiles fortissimi, feliciter vicere.
Canonicus clarissimus Gallovidianus,
Acer et indomitus, consilioque sanus,
Ibi dux adfuerat, spectabilis persona,
Nam pro tuenda patria, hunc peperit Bellona.
Ducalidoni dominum spreverat gradivus,
Nobilis et juvenis, fortis et activus:
Nam cum nativum principem exulem audiret,
Redit ex Hungaria ut regi inserviret.
Illic et adfuerat tutor Ranaldorum,
Qui strenue pugnaverat cum copiis virorum;
Et ipse Capetaneus, aetate puerili,
Intentus est ad pr[oe]lium, spiritu virili.
Glenmoristonus junior, optimus bellator
Subito jam factus, hactenus venator,
Perduelles Whiggeos ut pecora prostravit,
Ense et fulmineo Mackaium fugavit.
Regibus et legibus, Scotici constantes,
Vos clypeis et gladiis pro principe pugnantes,
Vestra est victoria, vestra est et gloria,
In cantis et historia perpes est memoria!
THE BOYNE WATER.
This momentous battle was fought on the 1st of July, 1690. James had a
strong position and thirty thousand men, two thirds of whom were a
worthless rabble. William had thirty-six thousand splendid soldiers.
The loss on neither side was great. Of James's troops there fell
fifteen hundred, the flower of his army; of the conqueror's not more
than five, but with them the great Duke of Schomberg. The present
version of this ballad is from Croker's _Historical Songs of Ireland_,
p. 60, given from a MS. copy in the editor's possession.
July the first, in Oldbridge town,[L1]
There was a grievous battle,
Where many a man lay on the ground,
By the cannons that did rattle,
King James he pitched his tents between 5
The lines for to retire;
But King William threw his bomb-balls in,
And set them all on fire.
Thereat enraged, they vow'd revenge,
Upon King William's forces; 10
And often did cry vehemently,
That they would stop their courses.
A bullet from the Irish came,
Which grazed King William's arm;
They thought his majesty was slain, 15
Yet it did him little harm.
Duke Schomberg then, in friendly care,
His king would often caution
To shun the spot where bullets hot
Retain'd their rapid motion. 20
But William said--"He don't deserve
The name of Faith's defender,
That would not venture life and limb
To make a foe surrender."
When we the Boyne began to cross, 25
The enemy they descended;
But few of our brave men were lost,
So stoutly we defended.
The horse was the first that marchéd o'er,
The foot soon followed a'ter, 30
But brave Duke Schomberg was no more,
By venturing over the water.
When valiant Schomberg he was slain,
King William thus accosted
His warlike men, for to march on, 35
And he would be the foremost.
"Brave boys," he said, "be not dismayed
For the losing of one commander;
For God will be our king this day,
And I'll be general under." 40
Then stoutly we the Boyne did cross,
To give our enemies battle;
Our cannon, to our foes great cost,
Like thundering claps did rattle,
In majestic mien our prince rode o'er, 45
His men soon followed a'ter;
With blows and shouts put our foes to the route,
The day we crossed the water.
The Protestants of Drogheda
Have reasons to be thankful, 50
That they were not to bondage brought,
They being but a handful.
First to the Tholsel they were brought,
And tied at Milmount a'ter,[L54]
But brave King William set them free, 55
By venturing over the water.
The cunning French, near to Duleek[L57]
Had taken up their quarters,
And fenced themselves on every side,
Still waiting for new orders. 60
But in the dead time of the night,
They set the field on fire;
And long before the morning light,
To Dublin they did retire.
Then said King William to his men, 65
After the French departed,
"I'm glad," said he, "that none of ye
Seeméd to be faint-hearted.
So sheath your swords, and rest awhile,
In time we'll follow a'ter:" 70
These words he uttered with a smile,
The day he crossed the water.
Come, let us all, with heart and voice,
Applaud our lives' defender,
Who at the Boyne his valour shewed, 75
And made his foes surrender,
To God above the praise we'll give,
Both now and ever a'ter,
And bless the glorious memory 79
Of King William that crossed the Boyne water.
1. The Dutch guards first entered the river Boyne at a ford opposite to
the little village of Oldbridge.--CROKER.
54. "After the battle of the Boyne, the Popish garrison of Drogheda took
the Protestants out of prison, into which they had thrown them, and
carried them to the Mount; where they expected the cannon would play, if
King William's forces besieged the town. _They tied them together_, and
set them to receive the shot; but their hearts failed them who were to
defend the place, and so it pleased God to preserve the poor
Protestants."--_Memoirs of Ireland, &c._, cited by Croker.
57. "When, in the course of the day, the battle approached James's
position on the hill of Donore, the warlike prince retired to a more
secure distance at Duleek, where he soon put himself at the head of his
French allies, and led the retreat; the King and the French coming off
without a scar."--O'Driscol, cited by Croker.
THE WOMAN WARRIOR,
Who liv'd in Cow-Cross, near West-Smithfield; who, changing her
apparel, entered herself on board in quality of a soldier, and
sailed to Ireland, where she valiantly behaved herself,
particularly at the siege of Cork, where she lost her toes, and
received a mortal wound in her body, of which she since died in
her return to London.
From Durfey's _Pills to Purge Melancholy_, v. 8.
Cork was taken September 27-29, 1690, by the Duke (then Earl) of
Marlborough, with the coöperation of the Duke of Wirtemberg. The Duke
of Grafton, then serving as a volunteer, was mortally wounded while
advancing to the assault. Croker suggests that this lamentation for
the heroine of Cow-Cross, "the Mary Ambree of her age," was one of the
many indirect efforts made to bring the military skill of Marlborough
into popular notice.
Let the females attend
To the lines which are penn'd,
For here I shall give a relation
Of a young marry'd wife,
Who did venture her life, 5
For a soldier, a soldier she went from the nation.
She her husband did leave,
And did likewise receive
Her arms, and on board she did enter,
And right valiantly went, 10
With a resolution bent
To the ocean, the ocean, her life there to venture.
Yet of all the ship's crew,
Not a seaman that knew
They then had a woman so near 'em; 15
On the ocean so deep
She her council did keep,
Ay, and therefore, and therefore she never did fear 'em.
She was valiant and bold,
And would not be controul'd 20
By any that dare to offend her;
If a quarrel arose,
She would give him dry blows,
And the captain, the captain did highly commend her.
For he took her to be 25
Then of no mean degree,
A gentleman's son, or a squire;
With a hand white and fair,
There was none could compare,
Which the captain, the captain did often admire.
On the Irish shore, 31
Where the cannons did roar,
With many stout lads she was landed;
There her life to expose,
She lost two of her toes, 35
And in battle, in battle was daily commended.
Under Grafton she fought
Like a brave hero stout,
And made the proud Tories retire;
She in field did appear 40
With a heart void of fear,
And she bravely, she bravely did charge and give fire.
While the battering balls
Did assault the strong walls
Of Cork, and sweet trumpets sounded, 45
She did bravely advance
Where by unhappy chance
This young female, young female, alas! she was wounded.
At the end of the fray
Still she languishing lay, 50
Then over the ocean they brought her,
To her own native shore:
Now they ne'er knew before
That a woman, a woman had been in that slaughter.
What she long had conceal'd 55
Now at length she reveal'd,
That she was a woman that ventur'd;
Then to London with care
She did straitways repair,
But she dy'd, oh she dy'd, e'er the city she enter'd. 60
When her parents beheld,
They with sorrow was fill'd,
For why, they did dearly adore her;
In her grave now she lies,
Tis not watery eyes, 65
No, nor sighing, nor sighing that e'er can restore her.
A DIALOGUE
BETWEEN WILL LICK-LADLE AND TOM CLEAN-COGUE, TWA SHEPHERDS, WHA WERE
FEEDING THEIR FLOCKS ON THE OCHIL-HILLS ON THE DAY THE BATTLE OF
SHERIFF-MOOR WAS FOUGHT.
(See p. 156. From Ritson's _Scottish Songs_, ii. 67.)
_W._ Pray came you here the fight to shun,
Or keep the sheep with me, man?
Or was you at the Sheriff-moor,
And did the battle see, man?
Pray tell whilk of the parties won? 5
For well I wat I saw them run,
Both south and north, when they begun,
To pell and mell, and kill and fell,
With muskets snell, and pistols knell,
And some to hell 10
Did flee, man.
_T._ But, my dear Will, I kenna still,
Whilk o' the twa did lose, man;
For well I wat they had good skill
To set upo' their foes, man: 15
The red-coats they are train'd, you see,
The clans always disdain to flee,
Wha then should gain the victory?
But the Highland race, all in a brace,
With a swift pace, to the Whigs disgrace, 20
Did put to chace
Their foes, man.
_W._ Now how diel, Tam, can this be true?
I saw the chace gae north, man.
_T._ But well I wat they did pursue 25
Them even unto Forth, man.
Frae Dumblain they ran in my own sight,
And got o'er the bridge with all their might,
And those at Stirling took their flight;
Gif only ye had been wi' me, 30
You had seen them flee, of each degree,
For fear to die
Wi' sloth, man.
_W._ My sister Kate came o'er the hill,
Wi' crowdie unto me, man; 35
She swore she saw them running still
Frae Perth unto Dundee, man.
The left wing gen'ral had na skill,
The Angus lads had no good will
That day their neighbours blood to spill; 40
For fear by foes that they should lose
Their cogues of brose, all crying woes--
Yonder them goes,
D'ye see, man?
_T._ I see but few like gentlemen 45
Amang yon frighted crew, man;
I fear my Lord Panmure be slain,
Or that he's ta'en just now, man:
For tho' his officers obey,
His cowardly commons run away, 50
For fear the red-coats them should slay;
The sodgers hail make their hearts fail;
See how they scale, and turn their tail,
And rin to flail
And plow, man. 55
_W._ But now brave Angus comes again
Into the second fight, man;
They swear they'll either dye or gain,
No foes shall them affright, man:
Argyle's best forces they'll withstand, 60
And boldly fight them sword in hand,
Give them a general to command,
A man of might, that will but fight,
And take delight to lead them right,
And ne'er desire 65
The flight, man.
But Flandrekins they have no skill[L67]
To lead a Scotish force, man;
Their motions do our courage spill,
And put us to a loss, man. 70
You'll hear of us far better news,
When we attack like Highland trews,
To hash, and slash, and smash and bruise,
Till the field, tho' braid, be all o'erspread,
But coat or plaid, wi' corpse that's dead 75
In their cold bed,
That's moss, man.
_T._ Twa gen'rals frae the field did run,
Lords Huntley and Seaforth, man;
They cry'd and run grim death to shun, 80
Those heroes of the North, man;
They're fitter far for book or pen,
Than under Mars to lead on men;
Ere they came there they might well ken
That female hands could ne'er gain lands; 85
'Tis Highland brands that countermands
Argathlean bands
Frae Forth, man.
_W._ The Camerons scow'r'd as they were mad,
Lifting their neighbours cows, man, 90
M'Kenzie and the Stewart fled,
Without phil'beg or trews, man:
Had they behav'd like Donald's core,
And kill'd all those came them before,
Their king had gone to France no more: 95
Then each Whig saint wad soon repent,
And strait recant his covenant,
And rent
It at the news, man.
_T._ M'Gregors they far off did stand, 100
Badenach and Athol too, man;
I hear they wanted the command,
For I believe them true, man.
Perth, Fife, and Angus, wi' their horse,
Stood motionless, and some did worse, 105
For, tho' the red-coats went them cross,
They did conspire for to admire
Clans run and fire, left wings retire,
While rights intire
Pursue, man. 110
_W._ But Scotland has not much to say,
For such a fight as this is,
Where baith did fight, baith run away;
The devil take the miss is
That every officer was not slain 115
That run that day, and was not ta'en,
Either flying from or to Dumblain;
When Whig and Tory, in their 'fury,'
Strove for glory, to our sorrow,
The sad story 120
Hush is.
67. By Flanderkins are meant Lieutenant-General Fanderbeck
and Colonels Rantzaw and Cromstrom.--HOGG.
UP AND WAR THEM A', WILLIE. See p. 156.
From Herd's _Scotish Songs_, ii. 234. The same in Ritson's _Scotish
Songs_, ii. 73. Burns furnished a somewhat different version to
Johnson's _Museum_ (p. 195, also in Cromek's _Select Scotish Songs_,
ii. 29), which he obtained from one Tom Neil, a carpenter in
Edinburgh, who was famous for his singing of Scottish songs. The title
and burden to this version is _Up and warn a', Willie_, an allusion,
says Burns, to the _crantara_, or warning of a Highland clan to arms,
which the Lowlanders, not understanding, have corrupted. There is
another copy in Hogg's _Jacobite Relics_, ii. 18, which is nearly the
same as the following.
When the Earl of Mar first raised his standard, and proclaimed the
Chevalier, the ornamental ball on the top of the staff fell off, and
the superstitious Highlanders interpreted the circumstance as ominous
of ill for their cause. This is the incident referred to in the third
stanza.
When we went to the field of war,
And to the weapon-shaw, Willie,
With true design to stand our ground,
And chace our faes awa', Willie,
Lairds and lords came there bedeen, 5
And vow gin they were pra', Willie:
_Up and war 'em a', Willie,_
_War 'em, war 'em a', Willie._
And when our army was drawn up,
The bravest e'er I saw, Willie, 10
We did not doubt to rax the rout,
And win the day and a', Willie;
Pipers play'd frae right to left,
"Fy, fourugh Whigs awa'," Willie.
_Up and war, &c._ 15
But when our standard was set up,
So fierce the wind did bla', Willie,
The golden knop down from the top
Unto ground did fa', Willie:
Then second-sighted Sandy said, 20
"We'll do nae good at a', Willie."
_Up and war, &c._
When bra'ly they attack'd our left,
Our front, and flank, and a', Willie,
Our bald commander on the green,
Our faes their left did ca', Willie, 25
And there the greatest slaughter made
That e'er poor Tonald saw, Willie.
_Up and war, &c._
First when they saw our Highland mob,
They swore they'd slay us a', Willie;
And yet ane fyl'd his breiks for fear, 30
And so did rin awa', Willie:
We drave him back to Bonnybrigs,
Dragoons, and foot, and a', Willie.
_Up and war, &c._
But when their gen'ral view'd our lines,
And them in order saw, Willie, 35
He straight did march into the town,
And back his left did draw, Willie:
Thus we taught them the better gate,
To get a better fa', Willie.
_Up and war, &c._
And then we rally'd on the hills, 40
And bravely up did draw, Willie;
But gin ye spear wha wan the day,
I'll tell you what I saw, Willie:
We baith did fight, and baith were beat,
And baith did run awa', Willie. 45
So there's my canty Highland sang
About the thing I saw, Willie.
THE MARQUIS OF HUNTLEY'S RETREAT FROM THE BATTLE OF SHERIFFMUIR.
See p. 156. From _A New Book of Old Ballads_, p. 30.