The works of Alexander Pennecuik of New-Hall, M.D.; containing the description of Tweeddale, and miscellaneous poems. A new edition, with copious notes, forming a complete history of the county to the present time. To which are prefixed, memoirs of Dr Pennecuik, and a map of the shire of Peebles, or Tweeddale |
 |
 |
A PANEGYRIC UPON THE ROYAL ARMY IN SCOTLAND,
|
|
 | The works of Alexander Pennecuik |  |
A PANEGYRIC UPON THE ROYAL ARMY IN SCOTLAND,
And particularly upon the Troops of Tweeddale and Forest, Gentlemen convened by Royal authority, May 1685, under command of the Laird of Drumellear, to suppress what was then called Rebellion.
The merry month of May was in her pride,
And loyalty seemed Scotland's lovely bride,
When bold Argyle, that lofty little man,
Through Neptune's regions with arm'd squadrons came;
Swift tyranny to stop, and with intent,
Usurping powers and popery to prevent:
This he did judge his duty, not his crime,
Yet it was called high treason at the time.
“Fy, cried the courtiers, when did we see ever,
Religion and rebellion lodge together;
And does Arglye with that despised crew,
Think with himself all Scotland to subdue.”
And loyalty seemed Scotland's lovely bride,
When bold Argyle, that lofty little man,
Through Neptune's regions with arm'd squadrons came;
Swift tyranny to stop, and with intent,
Usurping powers and popery to prevent:
This he did judge his duty, not his crime,
Yet it was called high treason at the time.
“Fy, cried the courtiers, when did we see ever,
Religion and rebellion lodge together;
And does Arglye with that despised crew,
Think with himself all Scotland to subdue.”
The royal trumpets sound, the drums do beat,
And troops march through the country soon and late,
The gentry rise in arms, in splendid manner,
And thrust in throngs to brave Bellona's banner;
Crying mount, march, charge, and spur up your avers,
And fight like Scotsmen, under valiant Clavers,
Dumbarton brave commands our standing forces,
That stout and gallant train of foot and horses,
Assist me, muse, their worth for to rehearse,
Not in coarse trivial rhyme, but lofty verse.
Which I can never do, should I begin,
While Lachesis has any yarn to spin.
All of them proof 'gainst desperate alarms,
Train'd up by old Dalyell in feats of arms;
That daring veteran blade, yet meek when he
Is in cold blood, and from all passion free,
Survey this little army, and you shall
Judge every officer a general;
And scarce a private soldier you shall see,
But elsewhere might a great commander be.
What equal number in the world could rout,
The Douglas' royal regiment of foot;
And those commanded by the Earl of Mar,
Are sons of Mars, swift thunderbolts of war;
As for our martial troopers and dragoons,
Their bravery's well approven by cracked crowns;
And for our lusty Hectoring grenadiers,
The devil he dare not fight them for his ears.
And troops march through the country soon and late,
The gentry rise in arms, in splendid manner,
And thrust in throngs to brave Bellona's banner;
Crying mount, march, charge, and spur up your avers,
And fight like Scotsmen, under valiant Clavers,
Dumbarton brave commands our standing forces,
That stout and gallant train of foot and horses,
Assist me, muse, their worth for to rehearse,
Not in coarse trivial rhyme, but lofty verse.
341
While Lachesis has any yarn to spin.
All of them proof 'gainst desperate alarms,
Train'd up by old Dalyell in feats of arms;
That daring veteran blade, yet meek when he
Is in cold blood, and from all passion free,
Survey this little army, and you shall
Judge every officer a general;
And scarce a private soldier you shall see,
But elsewhere might a great commander be.
What equal number in the world could rout,
The Douglas' royal regiment of foot;
And those commanded by the Earl of Mar,
Are sons of Mars, swift thunderbolts of war;
As for our martial troopers and dragoons,
Their bravery's well approven by cracked crowns;
And for our lusty Hectoring grenadiers,
The devil he dare not fight them for his ears.
Drumellear chosen was for heart and hand,
The loyal Tweeddale blades for to command,
As is his due, we rank him first in place,
For his rare charms of body, mind, and face.
Young Stenhop, our lieutenant, bravely can
Approve himself a stout and prudent man;
Whitsleid, our Cornet, looks like much discretion,
And values as his life his reputation.
Our Quartermaster has a gentle mien,
He's diligent, and to his pith he's keen.
What shall I say of our three Brigadiers,
But that they are incapable of fears,
Of strength prodigious, and of looks so froward,
That every glowr they give would fright a coward.
To view but Hairhop's great red Roman nose,
Would flee a rebel's heart into his hose.
Strong are his bones: his looks they are so big,
That every word he speaks would kill a Whig.
Kind Calins with his Cutlugs
next appears,
The second of our warlike Brigadiers:
His arms like Samson's, and with every leg
That might a rammer be to great Monsmeg.
Where can we find a squire so strong and massy
As our old veteran soger Captain Cassie?
Who dare break through whole troops without remorse,
Like fire and sword, wer't not his pissing horse.
The loyal Tweeddale blades for to command,
As is his due, we rank him first in place,
For his rare charms of body, mind, and face.
Young Stenhop, our lieutenant, bravely can
Approve himself a stout and prudent man;
Whitsleid, our Cornet, looks like much discretion,
And values as his life his reputation.
Our Quartermaster has a gentle mien,
He's diligent, and to his pith he's keen.
What shall I say of our three Brigadiers,
But that they are incapable of fears,
Of strength prodigious, and of looks so froward,
That every glowr they give would fright a coward.
To view but Hairhop's great red Roman nose,
Would flee a rebel's heart into his hose.
Strong are his bones: his looks they are so big,
That every word he speaks would kill a Whig.
342
The second of our warlike Brigadiers:
His arms like Samson's, and with every leg
That might a rammer be to great Monsmeg.
Where can we find a squire so strong and massy
As our old veteran soger Captain Cassie?
Who dare break through whole troops without remorse,
Like fire and sword, wer't not his pissing horse.
No cure nor comfort want we in its kind,
To give content to body or to mind;
For Doctor Pennecuik is our physician,
And Kickmilirie Fiddler's our musician:
The Doctor's courage none I think dare doubt,
'Tis known he sheds more blood than all the troop.
Slee Spittlehaugh ne'er wants his bawdy jest,
And Cringilty looks just like back and breast.
Powmood fires brisk, but his misfortune's so,
He hurts our friend, and ah! he shoots too low.
Cardronno and the Commissar are well hearted,
And, like true friends and brethren, seldom parted;
With this design, betide them life or slaughter,
To match Cardronno's son with Robin's daughter.
Cairnmuir kept still his bed, he was so wise,
Till either dirt or hunger made him rise.
When careful Captain Blyth commands the watch,
None with more courage, mettle, or dispatch,
Cries Stand, whose there? for I'm a man of war,
So tell me whence you come, and what you are,
Or by my parchment scrolls and bonds I swear,
I'll post this bullet through thy body clear.
He was a soldier regular and sober,
And so continued till the camp was over,
For full two months and more, yet was so wise,
His speech was never laid but once or twice.
Young Kingseat
was a Tory trooper then,
Now Stobo stipend makes him Whig again.
So frequently we see from cloak to gown,
Prelate and presbyter turn upside down.
To give content to body or to mind;
For Doctor Pennecuik is our physician,
And Kickmilirie Fiddler's our musician:
The Doctor's courage none I think dare doubt,
'Tis known he sheds more blood than all the troop.
Slee Spittlehaugh ne'er wants his bawdy jest,
And Cringilty looks just like back and breast.
Powmood fires brisk, but his misfortune's so,
He hurts our friend, and ah! he shoots too low.
Cardronno and the Commissar are well hearted,
And, like true friends and brethren, seldom parted;
With this design, betide them life or slaughter,
To match Cardronno's son with Robin's daughter.
Cairnmuir kept still his bed, he was so wise,
Till either dirt or hunger made him rise.
When careful Captain Blyth commands the watch,
None with more courage, mettle, or dispatch,
Cries Stand, whose there? for I'm a man of war,
So tell me whence you come, and what you are,
Or by my parchment scrolls and bonds I swear,
I'll post this bullet through thy body clear.
He was a soldier regular and sober,
And so continued till the camp was over,
For full two months and more, yet was so wise,
His speech was never laid but once or twice.
343
Now Stobo stipend makes him Whig again.
So frequently we see from cloak to gown,
Prelate and presbyter turn upside down.
Our brethren of the Forest, these brave boys,
Copartners of our dangers and our joys,
There's some I swear, of that brave generous band,
Deserve a whole battalion to command:
Courageous Sintoun, in his front he bears
That neither man nor woman's flesh he fears.
And Gilminscleugh for strength may bear the crown,
Who wrestled with a horse and threw him down;
And yet to tell the truth, and never wrong them,
There's some bold rambling Shechemites among them,
Who now and then dare to transgress their orders,
And run the round alongst the English borders.
Searching from hill to hole, fanatic lasses,
And press production of prohibit passes.
We neither want our fighters nor our flyters,
Wrights, merchants, drivers, commissars, nor writers;
Surgeons, nor farriers, gardners, smiths, nor cooks,
Few bibles, ah! but store of bawdy books;
Rochester's Poems Spittlehaugh did read
With more delight than e'er he did his creed.
Copartners of our dangers and our joys,
There's some I swear, of that brave generous band,
Deserve a whole battalion to command:
Courageous Sintoun, in his front he bears
That neither man nor woman's flesh he fears.
And Gilminscleugh for strength may bear the crown,
Who wrestled with a horse and threw him down;
And yet to tell the truth, and never wrong them,
There's some bold rambling Shechemites among them,
Who now and then dare to transgress their orders,
And run the round alongst the English borders.
Searching from hill to hole, fanatic lasses,
And press production of prohibit passes.
We neither want our fighters nor our flyters,
Wrights, merchants, drivers, commissars, nor writers;
Surgeons, nor farriers, gardners, smiths, nor cooks,
Few bibles, ah! but store of bawdy books;
Rochester's Poems Spittlehaugh did read
With more delight than e'er he did his creed.
We had a tailor to or two among us,
To cause a plague of fleas and lice upon us;
We had indeed a lazy life and idle,
Which made Drumellear read so much the bible.
Many one vow'd it did consist with reason,
That Haystoun should be punished for treason;
Who at the hour of midnight, to our cost,
Raised a fray into the royal host;
And loudly echoed thus through all the bounds,
“Fy, Sirs! to horse and arms! the trumpet sounds.”
Some starting from their sleep, were sore affrighted,
Others had both their sense and eyes benighted:
Some muirland men, they say, were scumming kirns,
And some were toasting bannocks at the birns:
Some on the grass lay muffled in their cloaks,
And some were tooming their tobacco box.
Some curs'd, some fidg'd for fear, and some did worse,
Others for haste mounted their neighbours' horse;
Some in their boots were slumb'ring, some their hose,
For none were troubled to put on their clothes:
Some raise in haste from stools, and some from chairs,
Not one of ten was raised from their prayers.
This man with that, in great confusion meets,
For no man tarried to spread up his sheets;
And so amaz'd, with doubting fear and care,
Unto the Captain's standard all repair;
Where not a horse was there, but could he spoke,
He would have cursed Hayston for this mock;
Some did allege his little brain was cracked,
Some call'd him hypochondriac, some distracted;
Others, that were a little more discreet,
Call'd it a wand'ring fancy through his sleep.
The Doctor thought the reason of these bees,
Were vapours of sour-milk and mustie-cheese,
Which then into our camp were sov'reign fare,
All better entertainment being so rare.
But now twice twenty days had quite expir'd,
When some had hectic purses, some were tir'd;
Some fear'd Argyle might rob them of their lives,
And some thought wond'rous long to kiss their wives.
Our noble Captain, to prevent these fears
And curb the insolence of mutineers,
Draws up his troop of heroes in a plain,
And thus he speaks his mind in martial strain:
“Soldiers and Gentlemen, this I must tell you,
Before Argyle and his fanatics fell you,
Stand to your standard, keep your reputation,
And mind the honour of your shire and nation;
We fight for no fantastical persuasion,
We arm against unnatural invasion;
We fight the bloody authors of our evils,
Who speak like saints, but counter act like devils:
So, if you flee, I'll mark you to your cost,
Shameful deserters of the royal host;
Which our renown'd ancestors, with good reason,
By law have ever punished as treason.”
To cause a plague of fleas and lice upon us;
We had indeed a lazy life and idle,
Which made Drumellear read so much the bible.
Many one vow'd it did consist with reason,
That Haystoun should be punished for treason;
Who at the hour of midnight, to our cost,
Raised a fray into the royal host;
And loudly echoed thus through all the bounds,
“Fy, Sirs! to horse and arms! the trumpet sounds.”
344
Others had both their sense and eyes benighted:
Some muirland men, they say, were scumming kirns,
And some were toasting bannocks at the birns:
Some on the grass lay muffled in their cloaks,
And some were tooming their tobacco box.
Some curs'd, some fidg'd for fear, and some did worse,
Others for haste mounted their neighbours' horse;
Some in their boots were slumb'ring, some their hose,
For none were troubled to put on their clothes:
Some raise in haste from stools, and some from chairs,
Not one of ten was raised from their prayers.
This man with that, in great confusion meets,
For no man tarried to spread up his sheets;
And so amaz'd, with doubting fear and care,
Unto the Captain's standard all repair;
Where not a horse was there, but could he spoke,
He would have cursed Hayston for this mock;
Some did allege his little brain was cracked,
Some call'd him hypochondriac, some distracted;
Others, that were a little more discreet,
Call'd it a wand'ring fancy through his sleep.
The Doctor thought the reason of these bees,
Were vapours of sour-milk and mustie-cheese,
Which then into our camp were sov'reign fare,
All better entertainment being so rare.
But now twice twenty days had quite expir'd,
When some had hectic purses, some were tir'd;
Some fear'd Argyle might rob them of their lives,
And some thought wond'rous long to kiss their wives.
Our noble Captain, to prevent these fears
And curb the insolence of mutineers,
Draws up his troop of heroes in a plain,
And thus he speaks his mind in martial strain:
“Soldiers and Gentlemen, this I must tell you,
Before Argyle and his fanatics fell you,
345
And mind the honour of your shire and nation;
We fight for no fantastical persuasion,
We arm against unnatural invasion;
We fight the bloody authors of our evils,
Who speak like saints, but counter act like devils:
So, if you flee, I'll mark you to your cost,
Shameful deserters of the royal host;
Which our renown'd ancestors, with good reason,
By law have ever punished as treason.”
Then Kaillie claws his shoulders, swears and damns,
“Must I not clip my sheep, and spane my lambs!
I'll turn my tail on Friday without faillie,
In spite of all the troop, or Devil take Kaillie.”
And yet for all this heat, and fiery fary,
Good honest Kaillie to the last did tarry.
“Must I not clip my sheep, and spane my lambs!
I'll turn my tail on Friday without faillie,
In spite of all the troop, or Devil take Kaillie.”
And yet for all this heat, and fiery fary,
Good honest Kaillie to the last did tarry.
When frank Mess John came first into the camp,
With his fierce flaming sword, none was so ramp,
He look'd like Mars, and vow'd that he would stand
So long's there was a rebel in the land.
He rhym'd, he sung, he jocund was and frolic,
Till Enoch Park gave Master John the colic;
And so of all the troop there was not one
That turn'fl his tail so soon as Frank Mess John.
He was tent-reader of our service-book,
And poet too with help of Pennecuik;
He was our writer, advocate and clerk,
Till Ettrick fear, and that of Enoch Park,
Quite turn'd his tune with the poor English frier
To rhyme De Planctu cudo in the rear.
Now let us all with concord pray and sing,
God's name be prais'd, Lord bless and save our King.
With his fierce flaming sword, none was so ramp,
He look'd like Mars, and vow'd that he would stand
So long's there was a rebel in the land.
He rhym'd, he sung, he jocund was and frolic,
Till Enoch Park gave Master John the colic;
And so of all the troop there was not one
That turn'fl his tail so soon as Frank Mess John.
He was tent-reader of our service-book,
And poet too with help of Pennecuik;
He was our writer, advocate and clerk,
Till Ettrick fear, and that of Enoch Park,
Quite turn'd his tune with the poor English frier
To rhyme De Planctu cudo in the rear.
Now let us all with concord pray and sing,
God's name be prais'd, Lord bless and save our King.
| The works of Alexander Pennecuik | |