As introduced in the 14th Edition, this section will explore the music popular with the troops of the Napoleonic Wars. Click on the button with a musical note to hear a MIDI rendition of the tune.
The Girl I Left Behind Me is without doubt one of the most popular tunes of the 18th and 19th Centuries. Viewers 
of American "Western" movies will recognise this jaunty air which, along with Garry Owen, conveyed the spirit of the U.S. Cavalry in countless cinema epics. The actual origins of the melody may date back to the Elizabethan era. It has inspired more variant lyrics than most; only a sampling is offered here.
I'm lonesome since I crossed the hill,
And o'er the moorland valley.
Such heavy thoughts my heart do fill,
Since parting from my Sally.
I seek for one as fair and gay,
But find none to remind me,
How sweet the hours I passed away,
With the girl I left behind me.
Oh, ne'er shall I forget the night,
The stars were bright above me,
And gently lent their silv'ry light,
When first she vowed to love me.
But now I'm bound for Brighton Camp.
Kind Heav'n, may favor find me,
And send me safely back again
To the girl I left behind me!
Her golden hair, in ringlets fair,
Her eyes like diamonds shining,
Her slender waist, her heav'nly face,
They leave my heart still pining.
Ye gods above, oh hear my prayer,
To my beauteous fair to find me,
And send me safely back again
To the girl I left behind me!
The bee shall honey taste no more,
The dove become a ranger,
The dashing waves shall cease to roar,
Ere to me she's a stranger.
The vows we made to Heav'n above
Shall ever cheer and bind me,
In constancy to her I love,
The girl I left behind me!
My mind her form shall still retain,
In sleeping or in waking,
Until I see my love again,
For whom my heart is breaking.
If ever I should see the day
When Mars shall have resigned me,
For evermore I'll gladly stay
With the girl I left behind me!
The hour's sad; I left a maid,
A lingering farewell taking,
Whose sighs and tears my steps delayed,
I thought her heart was breaking.
In hurried words, her name I blest,
I breathed the vows that bind me,
And to my heart in anguish pressed
The girl I left behind me.
Then to the east we bore away,
To win a name in story,
And there, where dawns the sun of day,
There dawned our sun of glory.
The place within my Captain's sight
Wherein the host assigned me,
I shared the glory of that fight,
Sweet girl I left behind me.
Though many a name our banner bore
Of former deeds of daring,
But they were of the days of yore,
In which we had no sharing;
But now our laurels freshly won
With the old ones shall entwine me,
Singing worthy of our soon-born son,
Sweet girl I left behind me.
The hope of final victory
Within my bosom burning,
Is mingling with sweet thoughts of thee,
And of my fond returning.
But should I ne'er return again,
Still with thy love I'll bind me;
Dishonor's breath shall never stain
The name I leave behind me.
The dames of France are fond and free,
And Flemish lips are willing,
And soft the maids of Italy,
While Spanish eyes are thrilling.
Still, though I bask beneath their smiles,
Their charms all fail to bind me;
For my heart goes back to Erin's isle
To the girl I left behind me.
She said, "My own dear love, come home,
"My friends are rich and many,
"Or else with you abroad I'll roam,
"A soldier stout as any.
"If you'll not come nor let me go,
"I'll think you have resigned me."
My heart near broke when I answered, "No."
To the girl I left behind me.
For never shall my true love brave
A life of war and toiling.
And never, as a skulking slave
I'll tread my native soil on.
But were it free, or to be freed,
The battle's close would find me
To Ireland bound, nor message need
From the girl I left behind me.
Waxies: candlemakers
Dargle: company outing
Auld one: wife
Auld lad: husband
Says my auld one to your auld one,
"Will you come to the Waxies' dargle?"
Says your auld one to my auld one,
"Sure, I haven't got a farthing.
"I've just been down to Monto town
"To see Uncle McArdle,
"But he wouldn't lend me half-a-crown
"To go to the Waxies' dargle."
Chorus:
"What'll you have, will you have a pint?"
"Yes, I'll have a pint with you, Sir.
"And if one of us doesn't order soon,
"We'll be thrown out o' the boozer!"
Says my auld one to your auld one,
"Will you come to the Galway races?"
Says your auld one to my auld one,
"With the price o' my auld lad's braces.
"I went down to Capel Street
"To the pawn-shop money lenders,
"But they wouldn't give me a couple o' bob
"On my auld lad's red suspenders."
(Chorus)
Says my auld one to your auld one,
"We've got no beef nor mutton,
"But if we go down to Monto town
"We might get a drink for nothin'."
Here's a piece o' good advice
I got from an auld fish-monger:
"When food is scarce an' you see the hearse,
"You'll know you've died o' hunger!"
(Chorus)
Chorus:
I'll fight and die then fight some
more;
The Sixth will never waver!
Can Bonaparte beat Wellington?
Do me a
bloody favour!!
I'm lonesome since I joined the Sixth,
One morning
in September.
Whatever made me serve the King?
I really can't remember.
But
now I am a soldier brave,
And I am bound for glory.
I'm broke and lame and
freezing cold,
But that's another story.
(Chorus)
We stood upon Corunna's shore,
The Frogs were
getting closer,
But did we run and wet ourselves?
Well, that's for me to know,
Sir!
Sir John was sitting on his horse,
'Til roundshot he discovered.
We
sailed away and left him there,
The bits that we'd
recovered.
(Chorus)
We sat on Salamanca plain,
And soon the Gauls
outflanked us.
We played some cards and drank some wine,
They really should
have thanked us.
'Til Nosey said "By God, that's it!"
And put us into
order.
We shot the buggers all to bits,
And chased them o'er the
border.
(Chorus)
We hung around at Waterloo,
While Boney checked
his army.
The Frenchies cheered and waved their hats,
We thought that they were
barmy.
All day he tried to have his will,
But we would not be harassed.
We
met his Guard and said "Hello!"
And kicked him back to
Paris!
(Chorus)
One of the best and most enduring songs to come out of the Great Irish Rebellion of 1798 is The Rising of the Moon. The melody is better-known in connection with another set of lyrics as The Wearing of the Green, a complaint about British oppression. Ma bouchal: my lad
"Oh, then tell me, Sean O'Farrell,
"Tell me why you hurry so?"
"Hush, ma bouchal, hush and listen!"
And his cheeks were all aglow.
"I bear orders from the Captain,
"Get you ready quick and soon,
"For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon!"
By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon,
For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon!
"Oh, then tell me, Sean O'Farrell,
"Where the gathering is to be?"
"In the old spot by the river,
"Right well known to you and me.
"One more word: For signal token
"Whistle up the marching tune,
"With your pike upon your shoulder
"At the rising of the moon!"
At the rising of the moon, at the rising of the moon,
With your pike upon your shoulder at the rising of the moon!
Out of many a mud-walled cabin,
Eyes were watching through that night,
Many a manly heart was throbbing
For the coming morning light.
Murmurs passed along the valley,
Like the banshee's lonely croon,
And a thousand blades were flashing by the rising of the moon!
By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon,
And a thousand blades were flashing by the rising of the moon!
All along the singing river
That dark mass of men was seen.
High above their shining weapons
Hung their own beloved Green.
"Death to every foe and traitor!
"Forward! Strike the marching tune,
"And Hurrah! me boys, for freedom! 'Tis the rising of the moon!"
'Tis the rising of the moon, 'tis the rising of the moon,
And Hurrah! Me boys, for freedom! 'Tis the rising of the moon!
Well they fought for dear old Ireland
And full bitter was their fate.
But oh! What grief and sorrow
Filled the year of 'Ninety-Eight.
But, thank God, there's some hearts beating still
In manhood's burning noon,
And we'll follow in their footsteps at the rising of the moon!
At the rising of the moon, at the rising of the moon,
And we'll follow in their footsteps at the rising of the moon!
The Shan Bhean Bhoct (poor/wise old woman) was a symbol of the Irish nation.
"Oh, the French are on the sea, says the Shan Bhean Bhoct,
"Oh, the French are on the sea, says the Shan Bhean Bhocht.
"Oh, the French are in the bay, they'll be here without delay,
"And the Orange will decay," says the Shan Bhean Bhocht.
"And where will they have their camp? says the Shan Bhean Bhocht,
"And where will they have their camp? says the Shan Bhean Bhocht.
"On the Curragh of Kildare, and the boys will all be there,
"With their pikes in good repair," says the Shan Bhean Bhocht.
"And what color will they wear? says the Shan Bhean Bhocht,
"And what color will they wear? says the Shan Bhean Bhocht.
"Oh, what color will be seen, where their father's homes have been,
"But their own immortal Green?" says the Shan Bhean Bhocht.
"Then what will the Yeomen do? says the Shan Bhean Bhocht,
"Then what will the Yeomen do? says the Shan Bhean Bhocht.
"Oh, what will the Yeomen do, but throw off the red and blue,
"And swear that they'll be true to the Shan Bhean Bhocht!"
"And will Ireland then be free? says the Shan Bhean Bhocht,
"And will Ireland then be free? says the Shan Bhean Bhocht.
"Yes! Then Ireland will be free, from the centre to the sea,
"So Hurrah! for Liberty!" says the Shan Bhean Bhocht.
This is the best-known ballad of the Connaught rising and Humbert's contribution to the Irish Revolution.
When you honor in song and in story the names of the patriot men
Whose valor has covered with glory full many a mountain and glen,
Forget not the boys of the heather, who marshalled their bravest and best,
When Ireland was broken in Wexford, and looked for revenge in the West.
Chorus:
I give you the gallant old West, boys,
Where rallied our bravest and best.
When Ireland lay broken and bleeding,
Hurrah! for the men of the West!
The hilltops with glory were glowing, 'twas the eve of a bright harvest day,
When the ships we'd been eagerly waiting sailed into Killala's broad bay;
And over the hills went the slogan, to waken in every breast
The fire that's never been quenched, boys, among the true hearts of the West.
Chorus
Killala was our ere the midnight, and high over Ballina town,
Our banners in triumph were waving before the next sun had gone down;
We gathered to do the good work, boys, the true men from near and afar,
And history can tell how we routed the redcoats throughout Castlebar!
Chorus
Though all the bright dreamings we cherished went down in disaster and woe,
The spirit of old is still with us that never would bend to the foe;
And Connaught is ready whenever the loud rolling tuck of the drum
Rings out to awaken the echoes, and tell us the morning has come.
Hibernia's sons, with hearts elate,
Who hate despotic slavery:
Now join with us, the cause is great,
Display your Irish bravery!
To crush those knaves that us enslave,
Our guns shall roar like thunder,
And let them see that we'll not be
By tyrants kept long under!
Old Granue groans, laments and moans,
Sore goaded by oppressors;
We are her sons, the only ones
Can be her sole redressors.
She loudly calls to one and all
To cut her chains asunder!
Her tyrants hear, and greatly fear
That us they can't keep under.
See shame-faced misery at our door,
Ierne's peasants starving;
While landlords, absentees and knaves,
In England waste each farthing.
And thus, their crimes our country stain,
Vile robbers and oppressors!
We hope that yet a time will come
To punish such transgressors.
To miss this time would be a crime,
While Europe is affrighted,
With warlike rage; now is the age
To see our country righted!
A thing tyrannic, struck by Pat,
To dust shall moulder under;
The hero's feet shall trample it,
For us they can't keep under!
Hibernia's sons, the patriot band,
Claim their emancipation
Arous'd from sleep, they wish to be
An independent nation.
United, firm, like men of sense,
And truly patriotic,
They vow they will not pay their pence
To any power despotic.
Hibernia then will raise her head,
The Green Flag wide extending,
Her Harp well tuned to Liberty,
Her sons their rights defending.
Justice will then begin her reign,
Triumphant in our nation:
Good will on earth and peace to man,
Throughout the whole creation.