Ballyellis

transcribed at

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Ballyellis

The following song was composed by Patrick Mc-Donald of Motabower who died about 1902.  He was a farmer who had no education beyond what he received in a National school.  I got the words from Mr. William Butler  Ballyellis

Ballyellis

The sun shines bright on the
Wexford hills and gleams on
a grove of pikes
Where muskets peep with
deadly frown from the adjoining
dykes
And ranks of men by that
low, stone wall

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83

With stern-set faces kneel
Where they eagerly gaze
to the plains beyond
On a moving line of steel
On a line of men in battle array
With helmet and warring plume
Spurring on hard to that fatal pass
To meet a well earned doom
From the hands of our
gallant Wexford men
Before their fiercest charge to fall
Yes a gallant foe awaits them there,
Behind Ballyellis wall
Oh many the blazing
cabin illumes their grand
advance

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While round that red banner
of England
Five thousand sabres glance
And proudly the Ancient Britons
Press on the roll of the drum
With stealthy tread like tigers
Those cowardly Yoemen come
From Arklow and Coolgreany
Gorey and Carnew.
Hacketstown and
Baltinglass those warriors
so true,
To fight for that tyrant,
England. spur madly oer the plain
But little did those

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85

butchers dream they'd never
fight again
Cranford, Collgreaney
Courtown and Monaseed
Can tell a dismal story
of many a bloody deed
But the sword of the 
avenger very soon shall 
fall
For the gallant Myles Byrne
awaits them
there behind Ballyellis wall.
Gaily the red banner
salutes the morning sun
Like hunted hares ere 
night-fall those
Yeomenry shall run
The haughty English
ensign shall sink
in sore defeat.

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86

Before the furious
onslaught of the men 
of '98.
Now Dwyer, Holt and 
Byrne for faith and 
freedom strike.
Here come the Ancient
Britons be ready
with the pike.
Fitzgerald to the
onset move up the musketeers.
And charge upon their
left flank with the
gallant Shelmaliers.
Woe!  Woe!  ye Ancient
Britons your swords
and carbines are vain
Against the fury of 
of Garrett Byrne
Who fights with might and main

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87

O Croppy heads
no more you'll place
your cruel cap of pitch.
For see Myles Byrne's
pikemen are swarming oer ditch
And out those heroes
sallied and piked with
right good will.
While Hunter Gowan
he viewed them
from Motabower Hill
To the front brave Ram of 
Gorey and draw
your flashing blade.
For a rebel foe awaits
you behind the barricade.
Advance Beaumont of
Hyde Park  Mount Norris
and Hunter

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Gowan.
And Hawtry White you 
villian a bloody debt,
you'll pay
You have no hoary sires
or innocent lambs to face.
And as you did at
Arklow you'll win the 
cowards race.
'Tis vain to call on
Needham as he cannot
hear you cry.
The pass is choked before 
you and in that
pass you'll die
The pass is choked with
corpses and the sword
with blood is red.
And the cruel Ancient
Britons in that dark
defile lie ahead.
Hurrah Hurrah no

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89

more they'll ride with
murder in their wake.
No more at dawn or dead
of night a peasants life
they'll take.
The last foray is ridden
the red cross flag is down
And the cruel cowardly
Yeomen ride hard for
Gorey town.
And all the warlike
nobles that lead them 
to the fight.
Are spurring on before
them in a cowards
headlong flight
'Tis long they will remember
the Wexford pike and ball.
That cut down the
Ancient Britons at
Ballyellis Wall.