Thinks I to Myself Thinks I/The Battle of Prestonpans
THE BATTLE OF PRESTONPANS.
The Chevalier being void of fear,
did march up brislie brae man;
And through Tranent e’er he did stent,
as fast as he could gae man.
While general Cope did taunt and mock,
wi' mony a loud huzza man;
But e'er next morn proclaim’d the cock,
we heard anlther craw man.
The brave Lochiel as I heard tell,
led Camerons on in clouds man,
The morning fair did clear the air,
they loosed with devlish thuds man.
Down guns they threw and swords they drew,
and soon did chace them aff man;
On Seaton crafts they built their chafts,
and gart them rin like daft man.
The bluff dragoons swore blood and ’oons,
they'd make the rebels run man;
And yet they flee when the they see,
and winna fire a gun man.
They turn’d their back, the foot they brake
such terror seized them a' man
Some wet their cheeks some fyl'd their breeks,
and some for fear did fa man.
The volunteers prick'd up their ears,
and vow but they were crouse man:
But when the bairns they saw a turn to earn'st,
they were not worth a louse man.
Maist feck gaed hame O fy for shame,
they'd better staid awa man
Then wi' cockade to make parade,
and do nae good at a' man.
Monteath the great when hersel' shot,
un'wares did ding him o er man,
Yet wad nae stand to bear a hand,
but aff and flee like stour man.
O'er Soutra-hill e’er he stood still,
before he tasted meat man;
Troth he may bag of his sweet nag,
that bare him aff sae sleet man.
And Seaton keen to clear the ees
of rebels far in wrang man;
Did never stive wi' pistole ve,
but gallop'd with the thrang wan:
He turned bis back and in a crack,
was cleanly out of sight man;
And thought it best, it was nae jest,
wi’ Highlanders to fight man.
’Mong a' the gang nane bade the bang,
but twa and ane was tane man;
For Campbell rade, but Morie staid,
and sair he paid the kain man,
Fell skalps he got was waur than shot,
frae the sharp-edged claymore man,
Frae mony spout came running out
his reeking red hot gore man.
But Gard'ner brave did still behave,
like to a hero bright man,
His courage true like him were few,
that still despised flight man:
For king and laws and country’s cause,
in honour's bed he lay man,
His life but not his courage fled,
while he had breath to draw man.
And Major Boyle that worthy soul,
was brought down to the ground man,
His house being shot it was his lot,
for to get many a wound man:
Lieutenant Smith of Irish birth,
frae whom he call'd for ain man,
Being full of dread lap o’er his head,
and would not be gainsaid man.
He made such haste, sae spurr'd his beast,
’twas little there he saw man;
To Berwick rade, and falsely said,
the Scots are rebels a’ man:
But let that end for well 'tis kend,
his use and wont to lie man;
The league is nought he never fought,
when he had room to flee man.
But gallant Rodger, like a sodger,
stood and bravely fought man;
I'm wae to tell at last he fell,
but mae down wi' him brought man:
At point of death, wi’ his last breath,
(some standing round in ring man)
On’s back lying flat, he waved his bat,
and cried, God save the king man.
Some Highland rogues like hangry dogs,
neglecting to pursue man,
About they fac'd and in great haste,
upon the booty flew man
And they as gain for all their pain,
are deck'd wi’ spoils o' war man;
Fu’ bauld can fell now her nainsel',
was ne'er sae pra' pefore man
At the thorn tree, which you may see,
bewest the Meadow mill man,
There mony slain lay on the plain,
the clans pursuing still man
Sic unco' backs and deadly whaks,
I never saw the like man,
Lost hands and heads cost them their deeds,
that fell at Preston-Dyke man.
That afternoon when a' was done,
I gaed to see the fray man;
But I had wist what after past,
I'd better staid awa man
On Seaton sands, wi' nimble hands,
they pick'd my pockets bare man;
But I wish ne're to prie sic fear,
for a' the sum and mair man.