BONNY JOHN SETON.

13-24.Saying, "The ministers, I fear,A bloody browst have brown,For yesterday, withouthen mair,15On the hill at Stradown,I saw three lords in battle fightRight furiously awhile,Huntlie and Errol, as they hight,Were both against Argyle.20Turn back with me and ride a mile,And I shall make it kend,How they began, the form and stile,And of the battles end."Jamieson.36. landis.88. beed.91. fraine.89-96. This stanza is unintelligible in Dalzell. It stands thus in Laing's copy.When they unto Strathboggy came,To council soon they geed,For to see how things might frame,For they had meikle need.They voted then to do a deedAs kirkmen do devise,And pray'd that they might find good speedIn that great interprise.149. This line seems to be corrupted.161. Some words are lost.Thus with their noble cavalryThey marched to the field.Laing.165. speares and scheildis.167. weild thair wapones weill.180. mannis.187. then ower.209-216.Then awful Erroll he can say"Good fellows, follow me:210I hope it shall be ours this day,Or else therefore to die.Tho they in numbermany be,Set on, withoutten words;Let ilk brave fellow brake his tree,215And then pursue with swords."213. many were.219. within went.249-56.Then some men said, "We will be sureAnd take Maclean by course;250Go to, for we are men anewTo bear him down by force."But noble Errol had remorse,And said, "It is not best,For tho Argyle has got the worst,255Let him gang with the rest.257-64."What greater honour could ye wishIn deeds of chivalry,Or brave victory than this,Where one has chac'd thrice three?260Therefore, good fellows, let him be;He'll die before he yield;For he with his small companyBade langest in the field."281. perceiued.286, 288. corrupted.305-12.Now I have you already tauld,305Huntly and Errol's menCould scarce be thirteen hundred called,The truth ifyewould ken.And yet Argylehisthousands tenWere they that took the race,310And tho that they were nine to ane,They caused [them] take the chace.308. he.309. has.313-20.Sae Argyle's boast it was in vain,(He thought sure not to tyne)That if he durst cum to the plain,315He would gar every nineOf his lay hold upon ilk manHuntly and Errol had:But yet for all his odds heranTo tell how ill he sped.320319. fled.324. should beeve, orvigil.

13-24.

Saying, "The ministers, I fear,A bloody browst have brown,For yesterday, withouthen mair,15On the hill at Stradown,I saw three lords in battle fightRight furiously awhile,Huntlie and Errol, as they hight,Were both against Argyle.20Turn back with me and ride a mile,And I shall make it kend,How they began, the form and stile,And of the battles end."

Jamieson.

36. landis.

88. beed.

91. fraine.

89-96. This stanza is unintelligible in Dalzell. It stands thus in Laing's copy.

When they unto Strathboggy came,To council soon they geed,For to see how things might frame,For they had meikle need.They voted then to do a deedAs kirkmen do devise,And pray'd that they might find good speedIn that great interprise.

149. This line seems to be corrupted.

161. Some words are lost.

Thus with their noble cavalryThey marched to the field.

Laing.

165. speares and scheildis.

167. weild thair wapones weill.

180. mannis.

187. then ower.

209-216.

Then awful Erroll he can say"Good fellows, follow me:210I hope it shall be ours this day,Or else therefore to die.Tho they in numbermany be,Set on, withoutten words;Let ilk brave fellow brake his tree,215And then pursue with swords."

213. many were.

219. within went.

249-56.

Then some men said, "We will be sureAnd take Maclean by course;250Go to, for we are men anewTo bear him down by force."But noble Errol had remorse,And said, "It is not best,For tho Argyle has got the worst,255Let him gang with the rest.

257-64.

"What greater honour could ye wishIn deeds of chivalry,Or brave victory than this,Where one has chac'd thrice three?260Therefore, good fellows, let him be;He'll die before he yield;For he with his small companyBade langest in the field."

281. perceiued.

286, 288. corrupted.

305-12.

Now I have you already tauld,305Huntly and Errol's menCould scarce be thirteen hundred called,The truth ifyewould ken.And yet Argylehisthousands tenWere they that took the race,310And tho that they were nine to ane,They caused [them] take the chace.

308. he.

309. has.

313-20.

Sae Argyle's boast it was in vain,(He thought sure not to tyne)That if he durst cum to the plain,315He would gar every nineOf his lay hold upon ilk manHuntly and Errol had:But yet for all his odds heranTo tell how ill he sped.320

319. fled.

324. should beeve, orvigil.

This ballad is taken from Maidment'sNorth Countrie Garland, p. 15. There is another version in Buchan'sBallads of the North of Scotland, ii. 136 (The Death of John Seton).

John Seton of Pitmedden, a young and brave cavalier, was shot through the middle by a cannon ball, during the skirmish at the Bridge of Dee, while engaged, under the Viscount of Aboyne, in resisting the advance of Montrose upon the town of Aberdeen, in June, 1639. It was the hard fate of Aberdeen to suffer from the arms of Montrose, first, when he was general of the Covenanters, and again while he waslieutenant for the King. The murder and pillage perpetrated in the town by the Irish after the defeat of Lord Burleigh, in 1644, have been made the subject of violent reproach by his enemies, but it may perhaps be said, that for all that exceeded the usual horrors of war, the heroic commander was not responsible. In Buchan's version of the present ballad, the clemency shown by Montrose on taking possession of the city in 1639 is commemorated in three stanzas worthy of preservation. The Covenanters were "resolved to have sacked it orderly."

Out it speeks the gallant Montrose,(Grace on his fair body!)"We winna burn the bonny burgh,We'll even lat it be."Then out it speaks the gallant Montrose,"Your purpose I will break;We winna burn the bonny burgh,We'll never build its make."I see the women and their childrenClimbing the craigs sae hie;We'll sleep this night in the bonny burgh,And even lat it be."

Out it speeks the gallant Montrose,(Grace on his fair body!)"We winna burn the bonny burgh,We'll even lat it be."

Then out it speaks the gallant Montrose,"Your purpose I will break;We winna burn the bonny burgh,We'll never build its make.

"I see the women and their childrenClimbing the craigs sae hie;We'll sleep this night in the bonny burgh,And even lat it be."

Upon the eighteenth day of June,A dreary day to see,The Southern lords did pitch their campJust at the bridge of Dee.Bonny John Seton of Pitmeddin,A bold baron was he,He made his testament ere he went out,The wiser man was he.He left his land to his young son,His lady her dowry,10A thousand crowns to his daughter Jean,Yet on the nurse's knee.Then out came his lady fair,A tear into her e'e;Says "Stay at home, my own good lord,15O stay at home with me!"He looked over his left shoulder,Cried, "Souldiers, follow me!"O then she looked in his face,An angry woman was she:20"God send me back my steed again,But ne'er let me see thee!"His name was Major MiddletonThat manned the bridge of Dee;His name was Colonel Henderson25That let the cannons flee.His name was Major MiddletonThat manned the bridge of Dee;And his name was Colonel HendersonThat dung Pitmeddin in three.30Some rode on the black and gray,And some rode on the brown,But the bonny John SetonLay gasping on the ground.Then bye there comes a false Forbes,35Was riding from Driminere;Says "Here there lies a proud Seton,This day they ride the rear."Cragievarsaid to his men,"You may play on your shield;40For the proudest Seton in all the lan'This day lies on the field.""O spoil him, spoil him," cried Cragievar,"Him spoiled let me see;For on my word," said Cragievar,45"He had no good will at me."They took from him his armour clear,His sword, likewise his shield;Yea they have left him naked thereUpon the open field.50The Highland men, they're clever menAt handling sword and shield,But yet they are too naked menTo stay in battle field.The Highland men are clever men55At handling sword or gun,But yet they are too naked menTo bear the cannon's rung.For a cannon's roar in a summer nightIs like thunder in the air;60There's not a man in Highland dressCan face the cannon's fire.

He left his land to his young son,His lady her dowry,10A thousand crowns to his daughter Jean,Yet on the nurse's knee.

Then out came his lady fair,A tear into her e'e;Says "Stay at home, my own good lord,15O stay at home with me!"

He looked over his left shoulder,Cried, "Souldiers, follow me!"O then she looked in his face,An angry woman was she:20"God send me back my steed again,But ne'er let me see thee!"

His name was Major MiddletonThat manned the bridge of Dee;His name was Colonel Henderson25That let the cannons flee.

His name was Major MiddletonThat manned the bridge of Dee;And his name was Colonel HendersonThat dung Pitmeddin in three.30

Some rode on the black and gray,And some rode on the brown,But the bonny John SetonLay gasping on the ground.

Then bye there comes a false Forbes,35Was riding from Driminere;Says "Here there lies a proud Seton,This day they ride the rear."

Cragievarsaid to his men,"You may play on your shield;40For the proudest Seton in all the lan'This day lies on the field."

"O spoil him, spoil him," cried Cragievar,"Him spoiled let me see;For on my word," said Cragievar,45"He had no good will at me."

They took from him his armour clear,His sword, likewise his shield;Yea they have left him naked thereUpon the open field.50

The Highland men, they're clever menAt handling sword and shield,But yet they are too naked menTo stay in battle field.

The Highland men are clever men55At handling sword or gun,But yet they are too naked menTo bear the cannon's rung.

For a cannon's roar in a summer nightIs like thunder in the air;60There's not a man in Highland dressCan face the cannon's fire.

39. Sir William Forbes of Cragievar.55-62. The Highlanders were thrown into great consternation by cannon shot, to which they were not accustomed. At the Raid of Stonehaven, just previous to the affair of the Bridge of Dee, the first volley made them wheel about and fly in disorder. They declared that they could not abide "the musket's mother."

39. Sir William Forbes of Cragievar.

55-62. The Highlanders were thrown into great consternation by cannon shot, to which they were not accustomed. At the Raid of Stonehaven, just previous to the affair of the Bridge of Dee, the first volley made them wheel about and fly in disorder. They declared that they could not abide "the musket's mother."

Ritson'sScottish Songs, ii. 40. Johnson'sMuseum, p. 502.

This ballad, very popular in Scotland, was long sold on the stalls before it was received into the collections. A glance will show that it has at best been very imperfectly transmitted by oral tradition. In fact, the Ettrick Shepherd seems to be right in maintaining that two widely separated events are here jumbled together. The first five stanzas apparently refer to an action in May, 1690, when Sir Thomas Livingston surprised fifteen hundred Highlanders in their beds at Cromdale, and the remainder to the lost battle of Auldern, where Montrose, with far inferior forces, defeated Sir John Hurry with prodigious slaughter, on the 4th of May, 1645. Mr. Stenhousestates, indeed, that after that imprudent division of the army of the Covenant which opened the way to the disaster at Auldern, Hurry surprised and routed at Cromdale a body of Highlanders under the lion-hearted Allaster Macdonald. But this check appears, by his own language, to have been too slight an affair to call forth such verses as those with which the ballad begins. See Hogg'sJacobite Relics, ii. 157, Johnson'sMuseum(1853), iv. 428.

As I came in by Achendown,A little wee bit frae the town,When to the highlands I was bown,To view the haws of Cromdale,I met a man in tartan trews,5I spier'd at him what was the news:Quoth he, "The highland army ruesThat e'er we came to Cromdale.""We were in bed, sir, every man,When the English host upon us came;10A bloody battle then beganUpon the haws of Cromdale."The English horse they were so rude,They bath'd their hoofs in highland blood,But our brave clans they boldly stood,15Upon the haws of Cromdale."But alas! we could no longer stay,For o'er the hills we came away,And sore we do lament the dayThat e'er we came to Cromdale."20Thus the great Montrose did say,"Can you direct the nearest way?For I will o'er the hills this day,And view the haws of Cromdale.""Alas, my lord, you're not so strong;25You scarcely have two thousand men,And there's twenty thousand on the plain,Stand rank and file on Cromdale."Thus the great Montrose did say,"I say, direct the nearest way,30For I will o'er the hills this day,And see the haws of Cromdale."They were at dinner, every man,When great Montrose upon them came;A second battle then began35Upon the haws of Cromdale.The Grants, Mackenzies, and M'Kys,Soon as Montrose they did espy,O then they fought most vehemently,Upon the haws of Cromdale.40The M'Donalds, they return'd again,The Camerons did their standard join,M'Intosh play'd a bonny game,Upon the haws of Cromdale.The M'Gregors fought like lyons bold,45M'Phersons, none could them controul,M'Lauchlins fought like loyal souls,Upon the haws of Cromdale.[M'Leans, M'Dougals, and M'Neals,So boldly as they took the field,50And made their enemies to yield,Upon the haws of Cromdale.]The Gordons boldly did advance,The Fraziers [fought] with sword and lance,The Grahams they made their heads to dance,55Upon the haws of Cromdale.The loyal Stewarts, with Montrose,So boldly set upon their foes,And brought them down with highland blows,Upon the haws of Cromdale60Of twenty thousand Cromwells menFive hundred went to Aberdeen,The rest of them lyes on the plain,Upon the haws of Cromdale.

As I came in by Achendown,A little wee bit frae the town,When to the highlands I was bown,To view the haws of Cromdale,

I met a man in tartan trews,5I spier'd at him what was the news:Quoth he, "The highland army ruesThat e'er we came to Cromdale."

"We were in bed, sir, every man,When the English host upon us came;10A bloody battle then beganUpon the haws of Cromdale.

"The English horse they were so rude,They bath'd their hoofs in highland blood,But our brave clans they boldly stood,15Upon the haws of Cromdale.

"But alas! we could no longer stay,For o'er the hills we came away,And sore we do lament the dayThat e'er we came to Cromdale."20

Thus the great Montrose did say,"Can you direct the nearest way?For I will o'er the hills this day,And view the haws of Cromdale."

"Alas, my lord, you're not so strong;25You scarcely have two thousand men,And there's twenty thousand on the plain,Stand rank and file on Cromdale."

Thus the great Montrose did say,"I say, direct the nearest way,30For I will o'er the hills this day,And see the haws of Cromdale."

They were at dinner, every man,When great Montrose upon them came;A second battle then began35Upon the haws of Cromdale.

The Grants, Mackenzies, and M'Kys,Soon as Montrose they did espy,O then they fought most vehemently,Upon the haws of Cromdale.40

The M'Donalds, they return'd again,The Camerons did their standard join,M'Intosh play'd a bonny game,Upon the haws of Cromdale.

The M'Gregors fought like lyons bold,45M'Phersons, none could them controul,M'Lauchlins fought like loyal souls,Upon the haws of Cromdale.

[M'Leans, M'Dougals, and M'Neals,So boldly as they took the field,50And made their enemies to yield,Upon the haws of Cromdale.]

The Gordons boldly did advance,The Fraziers [fought] with sword and lance,The Grahams they made their heads to dance,55Upon the haws of Cromdale.

The loyal Stewarts, with Montrose,So boldly set upon their foes,And brought them down with highland blows,Upon the haws of Cromdale60

Of twenty thousand Cromwells menFive hundred went to Aberdeen,The rest of them lyes on the plain,Upon the haws of Cromdale.

Two months after the defeat of Sir John Hurry at Auldern, Montrose utterly destroyed the other division of the covenanting army, under General Baillie, at Alford on the Don. On the 2d of July, the King's forces marched from Drumminor, and crossed the Don to Alford, Montrose and the Earl of Aboyne taking up their quarters in the castle of Asloun. Baillie, who was now in pursuit of the royalists, moved southward, and encamped on the day just mentioned, at Lesly. The next morning he crossed the river (halting on the way near a farm called Mill Hill), whereupon the battle took place. Montrose dearly purchased this new victory by the loss of Lord George Gordon, who commanded therightwing, not the left.

These fragmentary verses are fromThe Thistle of Scotland, p. 68.

The Graham[s and] Gordons of AboyneCamp'd at Drumminor bog;At the castle there they lay all night,And left them scarce a hog.The black Baillie, that auld dog,5Appeared on our right;We quickly raise up frae the bog,To Alford march'd that night.We lay at Lesly all night,They camped at Asloun;10And up we raise afore daylight,To ding the beggars doun.Before we was in battle rank,We was anent Mill Hill;I watfullweel they gar'd us rue,15We gat fighting our fill.They hunted us and dunted us,They drave us here and there,Untill three hundred of our menLay gasping in their lair.20The Earl of Mar the right wing guided,The colours stood him by;Lord George Gordon the left wing guided,Who well the sword could ply.There came a ball shot frae the west25That shot him through the back;Although he was our enemy,We grieved for his wreck.We cannot say 'twas his own men,But yet it came that way;30In Scotland there was not a matchTo that man where he lay.

The Graham[s and] Gordons of AboyneCamp'd at Drumminor bog;At the castle there they lay all night,And left them scarce a hog.

The black Baillie, that auld dog,5Appeared on our right;We quickly raise up frae the bog,To Alford march'd that night.

We lay at Lesly all night,They camped at Asloun;10And up we raise afore daylight,To ding the beggars doun.

Before we was in battle rank,We was anent Mill Hill;I watfullweel they gar'd us rue,15We gat fighting our fill.

They hunted us and dunted us,They drave us here and there,Untill three hundred of our menLay gasping in their lair.20

The Earl of Mar the right wing guided,The colours stood him by;Lord George Gordon the left wing guided,Who well the sword could ply.

There came a ball shot frae the west25That shot him through the back;Although he was our enemy,We grieved for his wreck.

We cannot say 'twas his own men,But yet it came that way;30In Scotland there was not a matchTo that man where he lay.

15. fell.

Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, ii. 203

"The insurrection commemorated and magnified in the following ballad, as indeed it has been in some histories, was, in itself, no very important affair. It began in Dumfries-shire, where Sir James Turner, a soldier of fortune, was employed to levy the arbitrary fines imposed for not attending the Episcopal churches. The people rose, seized his person, disarmed his soldiers, and, having continued together, resolved to march towards Edinburgh, expecting to be joined by their friends in that quarter. In this they were disappointed; and, being now diminished to half their numbers, they drew up on the Pentland Hills, at a place called Rullien Green. They were commanded by one Wallace; and here they awaited the approach of General Dalziel, of Binns; who, having marched to Calder, to meet them on the Lanark road, and finding, that, by passing through Collington, they had got to the other side of the hills, cut through the mountains and approached them. Wallace showed both spirit and judgment: he drew up his men in a very strong situation, and withstood two charges of Dalziel's cavalry; but, upon the third shock, the insurgents were broken and utterly dispersed. There was very little slaughter, as the cavalry of Dalziel were chiefly gentlemen, who pitied their oppressed and misguided countrymen. There were about fifty killed, and as many made prisoners. The battle wasfought on the 28th November, 1666; a day still observed by the scattered remnant of the Cameronian sect, who regularly hear a field-preaching upon the field of battle.

"I am obliged for a copy of the ballad to Mr. Livingston of Airds, who took it down from the recitation of an old woman residing on his estate.

"The gallant Grahams, mentioned in the text, are Graham of Claverhouse's horse."Scott.

The gallant Grahams cam from the west,Wi' their horses black as ony craw;The Lothian lads they marched fast,To be at the Rhyns o' Gallowa.Betwixt Dumfries town and Argyle,5The lads they marched mony a mile;Souters and tailors unto them drew,Their covenants for to renew.The Whigs, they, wi' their merry cracks,Gar'd the poor pedlars lay down their packs;10But aye sinsyne they do repentThe renewing o' their Covenant.At the Mauchline muir, where they were review'd,Ten thousand men in armour show'd;But, ere they came to the Brockie's burn,15The half of them did back return.General Dalyell, as I hear tell,Was our lieutenant-general;And Captain Welsh, wi' his wit and skill,Was to guide them on to the Pentland hill.20General Dalyell held to the hill,Asking at them what was their will;And who gave them this protestation,To rise in arms against the nation?"Although we all in armour be,25It's not against his majesty;Nor yet to spill our neighbour's bluid,But wi' the country we'll conclude.""Lay down your arms, in the King's name,And ye shall a' gae safely hame;"30But they a' cried out wi' ae consent,"We'll fight for a broken Covenant.""O well," says he, "since it is so,A wilfu' man never wanted woe:"He then gave a sign unto his lads,35And they drew up in their brigades.The trumpets blew, and the colours flew,And every man to his armour drew;The Whigs were never so much aghast,As to see their saddles toom sae fast.40The cleverest men stood in the van,The Whigs they took their heels and ran;But such a raking was never seen,As the raking o' the Rullien Green.

The gallant Grahams cam from the west,Wi' their horses black as ony craw;The Lothian lads they marched fast,To be at the Rhyns o' Gallowa.

Betwixt Dumfries town and Argyle,5The lads they marched mony a mile;Souters and tailors unto them drew,Their covenants for to renew.

The Whigs, they, wi' their merry cracks,Gar'd the poor pedlars lay down their packs;10But aye sinsyne they do repentThe renewing o' their Covenant.

At the Mauchline muir, where they were review'd,Ten thousand men in armour show'd;But, ere they came to the Brockie's burn,15The half of them did back return.

General Dalyell, as I hear tell,Was our lieutenant-general;And Captain Welsh, wi' his wit and skill,Was to guide them on to the Pentland hill.20

General Dalyell held to the hill,Asking at them what was their will;And who gave them this protestation,To rise in arms against the nation?

"Although we all in armour be,25It's not against his majesty;Nor yet to spill our neighbour's bluid,But wi' the country we'll conclude."

"Lay down your arms, in the King's name,And ye shall a' gae safely hame;"30But they a' cried out wi' ae consent,"We'll fight for a broken Covenant."

"O well," says he, "since it is so,A wilfu' man never wanted woe:"He then gave a sign unto his lads,35And they drew up in their brigades.

The trumpets blew, and the colours flew,And every man to his armour drew;The Whigs were never so much aghast,As to see their saddles toom sae fast.40

The cleverest men stood in the van,The Whigs they took their heels and ran;But such a raking was never seen,As the raking o' the Rullien Green.

Several companies, principally Irish, belonging to the army of King James, and stationed at Reading, had quitted the town in consequence of a report that the Prince of Orange was advancing in that direction with the main body of his forces. On the departure of the garrison, the people of Reading at once invited the Prince to take possession of the place, and secure them against the Irish. But the King's troops, having learned that it was only a small detachment of William's soldiers, and not the main army, by whom they were threatened, returned and reoccupied their post. Here they were attacked by two hundred and fifty of the Dutch, and though numbering six hundred, were soon put to flight, with the loss of their colors and of fifty men, the assailants losing but five. This skirmish occurred on Sunday, the 9th of December, 1688.

This piece is extracted from Croker'sHistorical Songs of Ireland, p. 14, Percy Society, vol. i., and was there given from a collection of printed ballads in the British Museum. The burden seems to be derived from the following stanza ofLilli burlero:

"Now, now de heretics all go down,Lilli, &c.By Chreist and St. Patrick de nation's our own,Lilli, &c.

Five hundred papishes came there,To make a final endOf all the town, in time of prayer,But God did them defend.

To the tune ofLilli borlero. Licensed according to order. Printed for J. D. in the year 1688.

We came into brave Reading by night,Five hundred horsemen proper and tall;Yet not resolved fairly to fight,But for to cut the throats of them all.Most of us was Irish Papists,5Who vowed to kill, then plunder the town;We this never doubted, but soon we were routed,By Chreest and St. Patrick, we all go down.In Reading town we ne'er went to bed;Every soul there mounted his horse,10Hoping 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,15By 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.20We 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 despatch25Every 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;30In 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,35For 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.40Just 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,45Knitting 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,50In 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,55By 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.60Having 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,65Pistols 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 sweetSt. Coleman,Hoping he might our victory crown;70But 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 possess75Worthy 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.80They 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;85For us let all the Jesuits pray;Farewell, Father Peters, here's some of your creaturesWould have you to follow the self-same way.

In Reading town we ne'er went to bed;Every soul there mounted his horse,10Hoping 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,15By 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.20We 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 despatch25Every 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;30In 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,35For 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,45Knitting 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,50In 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,55By 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.60Having 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,65Pistols 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 sweetSt. Coleman,Hoping he might our victory crown;70But 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 possess75Worthy 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;85For us let all the Jesuits pray;Farewell, Father Peters, here's some of your creaturesWould have you to follow the self-same way.

69, Edward Coleman, hanged at Tyburn in 1678, for his participation in the Popish Plot.—Croker.

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'sHistory 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 hadfed 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'sHistorical 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,5Being resolved the town to maintainFor William and Mary, still brave LondonderryWill give the proud French and Tories their bane.Time after time, with powder and balls,Protestant souls they did 'um salute,10That before Londonderry's stout wallsMany are slain and taken to boot.Nay, their nobleDuke of Berwick,Many reports, is happily tane,Where still they confine him, and will not resign him,Till they have given the Tories their bane.16Into 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.20But the polititiousWalker,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,25Ready 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;30A 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,35Thinking 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.40Suddenly 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,45While 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;50Protestants 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,55As fearing they all should suffer their bane.In a short time we hope to arriveWith a vast army to Ireland,And the affairs so well we'll contriveThat they shall ne'er have power to stand60Gainst 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.

Time after time, with powder and balls,Protestant souls they did 'um salute,10That before Londonderry's stout wallsMany are slain and taken to boot.Nay, their nobleDuke of Berwick,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.20But the polititiousWalker,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,25Ready 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;30A 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,35Thinking 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,45While 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;50Protestants 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,55As fearing they all should suffer their bane.

In a short time we hope to arriveWith a vast army to Ireland,And the affairs so well we'll contriveThat they shall ne'er have power to stand60Gainst 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.

Back to Index Next