The Pamphlet Collection of Sir Robert Stout: Volume 2
December 27th, 1879.
'Pon me conshinse, when the news o' the ruckshions at Timaru raiched me offis on Lambton Kay, I was tundhersthruck, so I was; for in these quiet times it's refreshin' to hear av a nate shindy. Be the hokey poker, I was only sorry that I wasn't on the scene av ackshun, for betchune you and me I'm gsttin' blue mouldy for want av a baitin', so I am. Ton me sowl, I was disgusted to hear that the peelers inthcrfered an' spiled the sport. Bad luck to thim, they're always comin' where they're not wanted. Sure, av the boys wanted to imitate the deeds av their glorious ancesthors, why shouldn't they be allowed to have it out wid one another in paice widout those blackguard bobbies intherfairin'. Faix, it's illigant sport braikin' one another's heads just for fun. Laivin' King Billy an' King Shamus altogether out o' the question, I think, as a matther of principle, men should be allowed to amuse thimsilves now an' agin, be way av ricrayashun. It's a mighty fine thing whin a man grows ould to be able to show the wounds an' scars that he recayved in the wars, an' to be able to hand thim down to his ancesthors and posterity in gineral. I was sorry to find that the opposin' armies wor so unequally divided, an' small thanks to King James's forces for baitin' sich a mere handful o' the inimy. Is there any thruth in the rumour that's raiched Willin' ton, to the effect that Inspecthor Mallard, av your city, has cautioned the fruitherers av Dunaidin against displayin' oranges an' apples in the windows, as they might tind to provoke a braich o' the paice ? Those bobbies ought to mind their own business, so they ought. I've sthruck off the followin' pome to immortalise
The Saige O' Timaru.
In anshint ages, whin Homer's pages
Gave all the stages o' the Saige o' Throy;
When false Queen Helen, wid bosom swellin',
In love, sure, fell in wid the Throjan boy;
The wars were gory, for death or glory,
So runs the story, they millions slew.
But sure 'twas play, boys, unlike the fray, boys,
The other day, boys, at Timaru.
The grand directhers av the Orange Victhors,
(Ye've seen the picthers av King Billy's horse),
Addhressed the brith' rin:—"We'll have a gith' rin,
An' bouldly march out, brave boys, in force,
Wid lovely sashes an' soords that flashes,
Well cut fine dashes, in full review;
We'll have an airin', wid banners rairin',
All dangers darin' through Timaru."
Och, blur-an-ouns, boys, it wint the rounds, boys,
Wid shouts an' bounds, boys, aitch hayro green,
From glin an' nook, a-round be Timuka,
Prepared to march to the battle scene;
Aitch Mick or Pat, he brought stick or bat he
Got at Waimate—yer sowls, huiroo!—
Thin inarchin proudly, an' yellin' loudly,
The boys assimbled in Timaru.
The grand paradins, an' the fine procaidins
Av the Orange hayros was the battle sign;
No word they utthered, but King Billy flutthered
On yallow banners along the line.
Prepared for slaughter, they played "Boyne Wat her,"
Och, mailie-murther an' pillill-u-u,
King James's throops, boys, wid yells an' whoops, boys,
Rushed up in groups, boys, at Timaru.
They formed a square, boys, in front an' rair, boys,
Begog 'twas quare, boys, to see thim stand;
An' one bould head-man, wid hair so red, man,
Got up an' sed, man, unto his band:
"Look here, be jabers, me dacint naybors,
Ther soords an' sabres will niver do,
It's no use talkin' we'll stop their walkin',
Ther colour-hawkin' through Timaru."
A bould Cromwellan, of powdher smellin',
Wid fury swellin', dhrew forth his blade,
An' swore he'd skiver the "Papish" liver
That daar'd to stop him on his grand parade;
A black Sir Knight, boys, prepared to fight, boys,
'Gainst green an' white, boys, for red an' blue,
He'd stand alone, boys, an' guard the throne, boys,
So bould, mavrone, boys, at Timaru.
The Peeler squadhron (they're always botherin')
Wid rayinforcements came on the ground;
Inspecthor Pindher, that bould difindher,
Look'd mighty fierce, boys, as he gallop'd round.
Ses he:—"Be quiet, don't raise a riot,
For I defy ye to mischief brew;
Don't rise our ire, or we'll have to fire,
So plaise retire from Timaru."
The divil a harm he done to the army,
King James's forces began to dodge;
King William's laygion, wid the battle raygiu'
Inthrinchcd their squadhrons beyant the lodge;
The forces sundhered, an' the cannons tundhered,
An' the people wondherred, as the bullets flew,
In Imaginashun an' disperashun,
For ricrayashun at Timaru.
Och the wounds an' bruises, me gintle muses
Bedad refuses for to indite;
The deeds so famous, done for King Shamus,
An' how his army won in the fight;
They're crowned wid glory in fame's bright story,
The kilt an' wounded an' the slain an' slew,
Will live for ages in histh'ry's pages,
Whilst battle rages at Timaru.