Monmouth Routed

Now the fatal fight is over
valiant Monmouth must away
While his Enemies did follow
his sacred person to betray.
If we had but Ammunition
we had surely won the Field,
But we were in a weak condition,
and was forc'd at last to yield.

Some says Monmouth he was taken
in a Field a picking Pease;
Some says in a Ditch a sleeping;
there were such reports as these,
Raised merely to degrade him
of his Royal Dignity:
But let those that did upbraid him
[peri]sh for such like villany.

Some, the more to blast his Glory,
as the naked truth I say,
Straightway frame another story,
saying, in a Cock of Hay
He through fear was forc'd to build in,
till they did his Honour trace;
But his famous warlike Gelding
escap'd with his most Royal Grace.

Some has call'd brave Monmouth Coward,
but they were his Enemies;
When a Souldier's over-power'd,
they can this and more devise;
But their words I never heeded,
tho' they knit their brows and frown;
His stout Valour far exceeded
those which strove to run him down.

Now, when we were clearly Routed,
I ran to a pleasant Grove,
Where some of our Men were scouted
with that Souldier whom we love.
Who declar'd to give them Battel,
when he could his strength renew,
Drums and Canons they should Rattle,
for to give his Foes their due.

"Now we must away to Holland,
where we shall be safe, I'm sure;
And my Souldiers that will follow,
they with me shall be secure:
They shall surely lack for nothing,
while in Holland we remain,
And we'll be in better Order,
when we do return again.

"How they Draw and Hang my Souldiers,
which doth grieve my heart full sore;
All the bloody Books of Martyrs
never shew'd the like before!
Nay, they cut them into Quarters,
and their Hearts and Bowels burn'd;
Likewise boyl'd their Limbs in Cauldrons!
I [at] this in tears have mourn'd.

"Sure the very Turk or Tartar
could not act more cruelty,
Yet like Lambs they took their slaughter,
when they were condemn'd to die;
Tho' it filled the world with wonder
what they did intend or mean;
Mothers' hearts did break in sunder,
to behold the bloody scene.

"How their Actions does allarm me,
to behold their fatal bane;
Well, I'll have another Army,
for to fight my Foes again:
Warlike Canons they shall Rattle,
like a Hero of Renown,
I myself will front the Battel,
for to run the Romans down.

"I will find a proper Season
for to pull down Popery;
Since it is no more than Reason,
that my proudest Foes shall see:
Tho' at present I may linger,
foes shall see my Army shine;
Nay, and tremble at my Anger,
when I accomplish my design."

He no sooner this had spoken
but they straightways him secur'd,
Christians' hearts was almost broken,
to behold what he endur'd;
Bloody was his execution,
from the hand of Cruelty;
'Twas the Papists' Resolution
he should fall most fatally.

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Music of Dalkeith
Copyright © 2001, Jack Campin