A New Scotch Ballad:
CALL'D
BOTHWEL-BRIDGE:
OR,
Hamilton's HERO.
To the Tune of Fortune my Foe.
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1.
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WHen valiant Bucklugh charg'd his Foes,
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And put the Rebel Scots to flight,
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Full many a Gallant Squire arose
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And rush'd into the Fight.
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2.
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From sturdy Mars they all did spring,
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And by the Dint of Spur and Switch
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Could make their Steeds to kick and fling,
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And leap o're Enemy like Ditch.
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3.
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But lo! amidst this furious Train
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Of matchless Wights, appeared one
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With Courage and with Prowess main
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As ever yet was shown.
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4.
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Of Visage dark as day of Doom,
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Most pittifully rent and tore,
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Shews him a Warrier in the Womb
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That Wounds receiv'd e're he was bore,
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5.
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His Breast all Steel, of Temper tuff,
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And Falstaffs Belly deckt with Charms,
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With Brandons Head, all clad in Buff,
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Secure from Scottish Arms.
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6.
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Full six Foot deep in Stature he,
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A goodly sight for to behold,
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Of Parentage and Pedigree
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Most wondrous to unfold.
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7.
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Not gen'rous Whore, of better kind,
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Nor Stallion stout, of Mettle higher
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Than is the fierce undaunted mind
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Of this our lofty Squire.
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8.
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But, that you may believe, his Race
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Was such as we dare brag on,
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Know to St. George he Kinsman was,
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and Son and Heir to th' Dragon.
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9.
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From that bold Knight he Valour gain'd,
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And from the Venom of this Syre
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The gift of swelling he obtain'd,
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And eke of spitting Fire.
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10.
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At two Months Age, from Mothers Paps,
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He suck'd out Bullets 'stead of Milk;
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Which rowling in his Warlike Chaps
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They turn'd as soft as Silk.
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11.
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With this rank Food he fed some years
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Till he so strong a Stomack got,
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That he could swallow down whole Spears
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And mumble Canon-shot.
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12.
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Did he but hear those Furies roar
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He'd rush into the heat of Battel,
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And bowze Combustion from the Bore
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As 'twere from mouth of Sucking-bottle.
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13.
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No Armour needful was in fight,
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Nor car'd he for the Pow'rful shield;
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He valu'd Courage not a Doit
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To man him in the dreadful Field.
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14.
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For let the whiffling Bullets stray,
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'Tis no matter whether thick or thinner,
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His only business was to pray
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They'd shoot him down his Dinner.
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[15.]
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THus dyetted, 'gainst Scottish Loon,
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He proudly troopt by Monmouths side,
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Accouter'd with a Knife and Spoon
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Which all their Arms defi'd.
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16.
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But as the Duke right manfully
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March'd on his stubborn Foes to meet,
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He all besh------ the Shot which he
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So likely was to eat.
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17.
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Behind his Grace he tamely slunk,
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(Suppos'd) from Wounds his Breech to keep:
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And at each thundring Volley shrunk
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Like Hog-Louse in a Heap.
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18.
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Most pittiously he there did shrugg,
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And curst a thousand times damn'd Mars,
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Then popt down head to save each Lugg
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And worshipp'd Royal A---------
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19.
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Full lore he stunk whilest helter skelter,
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He heard the Ammunition skim,
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For still as he would seek new shelter
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Fear, like Gun-stick, scow'rd him.
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20.
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Yet did our Hero 'scape the Brunt,
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Through Ghostly Skill to disappear,
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For, like a Duck, he div'd i'th' Front,
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And rose again i'th' Rear.
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21.
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Where, safe as a Surgeon in the Hold,
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With Sweard sharp set for cruel Blow
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He huff'd and puff'd, look'd big and bold,
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And stroak'd the Soyl where Beard should grow.
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22.
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Then with his trusty Whynnyard he,
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All man, Sir, slashing through the Air,
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Cry'd, like the Taylor to the Tree,
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Here I could have you, Sir, ------ and there ------
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23.
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Thus did he brandishing proceed,
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Till the desperate Warlike Minion
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Made th'individual Attoms bleed,
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And peel'd them like an Onion.
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24.
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This without pitty too to spare
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Those which he breath'd, as if he meant
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Revenge on the Philosopher
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That says, Our World is accident.
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25.
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His waiting Genius, eke also
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With world of pains, and muckle do,
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From Scabbard Salted, as I trow,
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A pickl'd Weapon drew.
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26.
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To Lord and Master true he stuck,
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And ventur'd full as hard as he;
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For 'twas the way to meet good luck,
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And be from dangers free.
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[27.]
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The lusty Loon came on behind,
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And in his mighty Cloak-bag caught
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That Courage blown away by th' Wind,
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With which the Esquire should have fought.
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28.
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The sprightly Wallet 'gan to jump,
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Possess'd with these Almighty Charms,
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And, bidding long farewell to Rump,
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Was in a moment up in Arms.
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29.
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The noble Champion bravely then
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Began to smile and take good chear,
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'Twas time to lay about him when
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Portmanteau turn'd a Volunteer.
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30.
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Martch on, my Darlings then, quoth he;
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For lo! the Battel's at a stand,
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And 'tis ordain'd that only we
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Should tame this uncouth Land.
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31.
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This said, into a Body they
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With Marshall Skill drew up their Force,
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Consisting, as you heard me say,
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Of Cloak-bag and twa Horse.
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32.
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But ah! alack, and weel-a-day!
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The Canny Duke (God bless his Grace)
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E're these three Wights could reach their prey,
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Had laid it dead upon the place.
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33.
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The Squire, all Fury, took it ill,
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For sorely he began to maunder,
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And 'cause he left no Foes to kill
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Wept out like Alexander.
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34.
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Yet when he ceas'd to sob and frown,
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Quoth he, What though the Kerns are slain?
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To save my Honour and Renown
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I'll kill them o're again.
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35.
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With that his Punnyard forth he draws,
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(Thus Death himself prov'd mortal too)
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For napping in a dead man's Jaws
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He ran him through and through.
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36.
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This was his Zeal and Loyalty,
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And fear of being Credit-shamm'd,
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He garr'd each Treach'rous Scot twice dee
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In hopes he might be double damn'd.
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37.
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Thus too St. George he has o'recome,
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And stabb'd the mighty Hero's Fame,
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Honour he leaves him not a Crum,
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All's due to ---------'s Name.
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38.
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He now as Englands Champion raigns;
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'Tis he alone is born to rule,
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To bind the Qarrelsome in Chains,
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And call a Giant Fool.
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