Urbana union. [volume] (Urbana, Ohio) 1862-1872, 1864-06-15
gtltft 9oetrr,
TOErEEoY
A BATTLE-BALLAD-

'THRtcE at the buts Of Fontenoy, the English
column failed,
And twice the lines of St. Antoine the Dutch in
vain assailed
For town and slope were filled with fort and
hauking battery,
,4nd well they swept the English ranks and
Dutch auxiliary,
As vainly, thro' De Barri's wood, the British sol
diers burst,
ed ana dispersed.
The bloody Duke Of Cumberland beheld with an
xiOus eye,
And ordered Gphis last reserve, his latest chance
to try.
On FOnten6y, on FOnteDoy, how fast his generals
ridol
Administering come his chosentroops like clouds
at eventide.
six thousand English veterans IN Stately column
tread,
Their cannon blaze in front and flank, Lord Hay
is at their head;
Steady they step adown the sldpe-steady they
climb the HILL
steady they load--stcady they fire, moving right
onward still,
BetwiXt the wood and Foutenoy, as thro' a fur
mace blast,
Thro' rampant, trench, and palisades and bullets
showering fast;
And on the open plain above they rose, and kept
their course,
With ready fire and grim resolve that Knocked a
hostile force,
Past Fonteuoy, past Fontenoy, while thinner
grew their ranks,
They break, as broke the Zuyder Zee thro' Hol-
lands ocean banks.
More idly than the summer flies, French trail
leurs rush round;
As stubbie to the lava tide, French squadrous
strew the ground;
BOnb-shell, and grape, and round-sho tore; still
on they marched aud fred
Fast from each voIey grenadier, and yoItigeur
retired
" Push on my household cavalry" King Louis
madly cried:
To death they rush, but rude the shoek-not IN
avenged they died.
On thro' the camp the column trod-King Louis
turns his rein:
"Notyet, my linge," SAKE lnterposcd, "the Irish
troops remain"
And Fontcnoy, famed Fonten0y, had been Wa
terloo,
Were not those exiIes ready then, fresh, vchem-
ent, and true.
Lord Clare" he says. "yoa have yOrr wish,
there are your Saxon foesw
The Marshal almost smiles to see, 50 furously he
goes.
How fierce the look those e1iles wear, who're
wont to be so gayl
The treasured wrongs Of fifty years are IL their
The treaty broken ere the ink wherewith twas
writ could dry,
Their plundered homes, their ruined shrines
their woIGcn's parting cry;
Their priesthood hunted down like wolves, theh
couEtrs overihrewn,-
Each looks as If revenge for all were staked or
him alone
On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, nor ever yet else
where
Rushed on to fight nobler band than theseproul
exiles were.
O'BHeh's voice is Hoarse with Joy, as, halting
he commando
Fix bayonets"-clarge!-li mobntain-storm
rush on those fcry bandsl
Thin is the English column now, and faint theil
yolleys grow,
Yet, mastering all the strength they have they
make gallant show
They dress their ranks upon the hill to face that
battle wind
Their bayonets the breakers foam, like rocks tht
men behind
One voIley crashes from their line, when, thro
Jne surging smoke,
I With empty guns cIutched in their hands, thu
headUug Irish broke.
/ On Fon;uoy, On Fontenoy, bark to that aere,
hU7zal
. "Re7eDge! remember Limerick! dash down thu
sasseuagh!"
Like lions Ieaping at fold, when mad with hun
gers pang,
Right up against the English line the Irish exile
sprung:
Bright was their steel, 'tis bloody now, their gun
are filed with gore,
! Thro' shattered ranks, and severed files, ant
trampled flags they tore.
/ The English strove with desperate strength, pau
sed rallied, staggered, fed
The green hillside is matted close with dying AM
with dead;
Across the plain and far away passed on that hid
e0us wreck,
Willie Cavalier and Fantassin dash in upon thei
track.
On Fontenoy, on Fontcnoy, life eagles in tn
sun,
With bloody plumes the Irish stand-ths field
fought ahd Won