Title
The Battle of Waterloo
Alternate Titles: The Plains of Waterloo
Subject
Folk songs, English -- New York (State) -- Adirondack Mountains Region
Folk songs, English -- Minnesota
War songs; Folk songs, Irish; Ballads, English; Napoleon I, Emperor of the French, 1769-1821--Songs and music
Description
First Line: Come, all you sons of Britton, and Irish heroes, too
Summary: The singer laments Napoleon's defeat at Waterlooo and gives some details of the battle. The "sons of Ireland" had hoped the French would be victorious.
Traditional Ballad Index Page: http://www.fresnostate.edu/folklore/ballads/LJ03.html
Creator
Michael Cassius Dean
Source
Robert Winslow Gordon Cylinder Collection (AFC 1928/002) http://lccn.loc.gov/2009655325; Archive of Folk Culture; American Folklife Center; Library of Congress
Publisher
Brian T. Miller
Date
Sep. 1924
Contributor
Robert Winslow Gordon
Rights
Duplication of sound recordings may be governed by copyright and other restrictions.
Relation
Full song text taken from M.C. Dean's 1922 self-published songster The Flying Cloud And 150 Other Old Time Poems and Ballads: A Collection of Old Irish Songs, Songs of the Sea and Great Lakes, The Big Pine Woods, The Prize Ring and Others
Format
mp3
Language
en-US
Type
Music Recording
Identifier
Roud #1922
Laws J3
AFS Preservation Reel: AFS 19011A
Gordon Cylinder Record No.: G87
AFS Item No.: Misc. 146
Coverage
St. Lawrence County, New York; Minnesota
Original Format
Wax Cylinder
Duration
1:00
Bit Rate/Frequency
128 kbps
Transcription
THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO.
Come, all you sons of Britton, and Irish heroes, too,
And all that fought for freedom’s cause that day at Waterloo,
Be of good courage, stout and bold, and I will promise you
That we’ll plant victorious eagles on the planes of Waterloo,
About eight o’clock the earth did shock and this frightful fray begun,
It lasted the whole day long till the setting of the sun;
No pen can write, no tongue can tell the horror of that day,
They fought like men at Waterloo until they were betrayed.
It would fill your heart with pity if you seen those Frenchmen’s wives,
Likewise their little children, with melancholy cries,
Saying, “Mamma, dearest Mamma, oh, this day we sure will rue,
When we come to see our Da Das slain at the battle of Waterloo.”
To see “Bony” like a bantam perched upon his car,
He appeared to be great Caesar or Mars, the god of war;
From a high platform where he stood he flapped his wings and crew,
Till he dropped his wings through being betrayed at the battle of Waterloo.
Oh, many a river have I crossed a o’er through water and through mud,
And many a battle have I fought full ankle-deep in blood,
But Providence protected me in all I e’er went through,
Till it was my lot to be betrayed at the battle of Waterloo.
My curse attend you, Grouchy, you did the French betray,
You led the sons of Ireland far different from their way;
You were the cause of “Bony’s” fall, alas he is no more,
For you took the gold that banished him to St. Helena’s shore.
Come, all you sons of Britton, and Irish heroes, too,
And all that fought for freedom’s cause that day at Waterloo,
Be of good courage, stout and bold, and I will promise you
That we’ll plant victorious eagles on the planes of Waterloo,
About eight o’clock the earth did shock and this frightful fray begun,
It lasted the whole day long till the setting of the sun;
No pen can write, no tongue can tell the horror of that day,
They fought like men at Waterloo until they were betrayed.
It would fill your heart with pity if you seen those Frenchmen’s wives,
Likewise their little children, with melancholy cries,
Saying, “Mamma, dearest Mamma, oh, this day we sure will rue,
When we come to see our Da Das slain at the battle of Waterloo.”
To see “Bony” like a bantam perched upon his car,
He appeared to be great Caesar or Mars, the god of war;
From a high platform where he stood he flapped his wings and crew,
Till he dropped his wings through being betrayed at the battle of Waterloo.
Oh, many a river have I crossed a o’er through water and through mud,
And many a battle have I fought full ankle-deep in blood,
But Providence protected me in all I e’er went through,
Till it was my lot to be betrayed at the battle of Waterloo.
My curse attend you, Grouchy, you did the French betray,
You led the sons of Ireland far different from their way;
You were the cause of “Bony’s” fall, alas he is no more,
For you took the gold that banished him to St. Helena’s shore.