English and Scottish Ballads, Volume VII

Ballads, English -- England -- Texts; Ballads, Scots -- Scotland -- Texts

To Skirving is also attributed with great probability the excellent
satirical song of _Johnnie Cope_, or _Cope are you waking yet_. The
original words are in Ritson, _Scotish Songs_, ii. 84: another set at
p. 82: a third, with alterations and additions by Burns, in Johnson's
_Museum_, p. 242. Allan Cunningham once heard a peasant boast that he
could sing _Johnnie Cope_ with all its _nineteen_ variations. See
Appendix.

The battle took place on the 22d of September, 1745, between the
villages of Tranent and Prestonpans, a few miles from Edinburgh. The
king's lieutenant-general, Sir John Cope, was disgracefully defeated
by the Highlanders under Charles Edward, and nearly all his army
killed or taken. The details of the conflict are vividly described in
the 46th and 47th chapters of Waverley.


    The Chevalier, being void of fear,
      Did march up Birsle brae, man,
    And thro' Tranent, e'er he did stent,
      As fast as he could gae, man:
    While General Cope did taunt and mock,                               5
      Wi' mony a loud huzza, man;
    But e'er next morn proclaim'd the cock,
      We heard another craw, man.

    The brave Lochiel, as I heard tell,
      Led Camerons on in clouds, man;                                   10
    The morning fair, and clear the air,
      They loos'd with devilish thuds, man.
    Down guns they threw, and swords they drew
      And soon did chace them aff, man;
    On Seaton-Crafts they buft their chafts,                            15
      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 them they see,
      And winna fire a gun, man:                                        20
    They turn'd their back, the foot they brake,
      Such terror seiz'd 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,                               25
      And vow gin they were crouse, man;
    But when the bairns saw't turn to earn'st,
      They were not worth a louse man.
    Maist feck gade hame; O fy for shame!
      They'd better stay'd awa', man,                                   30
    Than wi' cockade to make parade,
      And do nae good at a', man.

    Menteith the great, when hersell sh--,[L33]
      Un'wares did ding him o'er man;
    Yet wad nae stand to bear a hand,                                   35
      But aff fou fast did scour, man;
    O'er Soutra hill, e'er he stood still,
      Before he tasted meat, man:
    Troth he may brag of his swift nag,
      That bare him aff sae fleet, man.                                 40

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Opening the text

General

English and Scottish Ballads, Volume VII

Ballads, English -- England -- Texts; Ballads, Scots -- Scotland -- Texts

To Skirving is also attributed with great probability the excellent
satirical song of _Johnnie Cope_, or _Cope are you waking yet_. The
original words are in Ritson, _Scotish Songs_, ii. 84: another set at
p. 82: a third, with alterations and additions by Burns, in Johnson's
_Museum_, p. 242. Allan Cunningham once heard a peasant boast that he
could sing _Johnnie Cope_ with all its _nineteen_ variations. See
Appendix.

The battle took place on the 22d of September, 1745, between the
villages of Tranent and Prestonpans, a few miles from Edinburgh. The
king's lieutenant-general, Sir John Cope, was disgracefully defeated
by the Highlanders under Charles Edward, and nearly all his army
killed or taken. The details of the conflict are vividly described in
the 46th and 47th chapters of Waverley.


    The Chevalier, being void of fear,
      Did march up Birsle brae, man,
    And thro' Tranent, e'er he did stent,
      As fast as he could gae, man:
    While General Cope did taunt and mock,                               5
      Wi' mony a loud huzza, man;
    But e'er next morn proclaim'd the cock,
      We heard another craw, man.

    The brave Lochiel, as I heard tell,
      Led Camerons on in clouds, man;                                   10
    The morning fair, and clear the air,
      They loos'd with devilish thuds, man.
    Down guns they threw, and swords they drew
      And soon did chace them aff, man;
    On Seaton-Crafts they buft their chafts,                            15
      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 them they see,
      And winna fire a gun, man:                                        20
    They turn'd their back, the foot they brake,
      Such terror seiz'd 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,                               25
      And vow gin they were crouse, man;
    But when the bairns saw't turn to earn'st,
      They were not worth a louse man.
    Maist feck gade hame; O fy for shame!
      They'd better stay'd awa', man,                                   30
    Than wi' cockade to make parade,
      And do nae good at a', man.

    Menteith the great, when hersell sh--,[L33]
      Un'wares did ding him o'er man;
    Yet wad nae stand to bear a hand,                                   35
      But aff fou fast did scour, man;
    O'er Soutra hill, e'er he stood still,
      Before he tasted meat, man:
    Troth he may brag of his swift nag,
      That bare him aff sae fleet, man.                                 40

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

English and Scottish Ballads, Volume VII

English and Scottish Ballads, Volume VII

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