[Irish loyalist poem of the 1850s.] Unpublished anonymous Manuscript Poem, urging the ?Brave sons of Saint Patrick? to answer the call of the ?loved Father land? England, and join in the fight against ?those dastardly Yankees?.

An interesting piece of Irish demotic verse, an unpublished work by an unknown hand. A rough-hewn but highly-effective piece of writing, in which the author?s voice can be clearly heard (he rhymes ?forget? with ?death?, writes ?trashed? for ?thrashed? and ?fronth? for ?fronth?, and speaks of ?baynots?). The poem clearly conveys the author?s bloodthirsty relish for battle against the ?Yankees?, as he urges his countrymen on with cries of ?Faugh a ballagh? and ?Erin go bragh?. The viewpoint he presents sounds odd to modern ears: he is both one of the ?Brave sons of Saint Patrick? and an enthusiastic upholder of the Union. He urges his countrymen to ?respond to the Call? of the ?loved Father land?, so that ?Erin? may not lose face to ?Caledonia? and ?Englands proud Lyons?. The poem can be dated to the late 1850s from the references to the Crimean War (Alma, Inkerman and cossacks) and the Indian Mutiny (sepoys and Oudh). In the lead-up to the American Civil War tensions between the United Kingdom and the ?Yankees? were high. The British had been angered by American arms sales to the Russians during the Crimean War, and the possibility of war had been discussed cabinet level. There had even been a confrontation - the ?Pig War? of 1859 - over the San Juan Islands between Canada and the US. The present item is a complete 54 line poem, on a foolscap 8vo leaf of unwatermarked laid paper, with the first 36 lines covering the recto and the last eighteen lines on the verso. No other text or title are present. Originally part of a bifolium, with a stub remaining, to which a strip of grey paper from the mount adheres. Text clear, complete and legible, on aged, worn and lightly stained paper, with slight fraying to edges. Two neat creases. The poem reads as follows: ?Brave sons of Saint Patrick to arms once more / That same stirring Peal rings o?er Mountain and Shore / Your Sovereign decrees it the ?Yankies? must fall / And green Erin?s sons will respond to the Call / Oh! think of the deeds your forefathers have daired [sic] / Oh! think of the glories your fathers have shaired [sic] / How the foe-man has tembled at Erin?s hurray / In the conflict of death who were braver than they / The Lights of the Alma and Inkerman field / Have proved to the Russians how our Baynots [sic] we wield / And the Seapoy must confess how on Oudes green plain / We met them we trashed [sic] them and will thrash them again / Then haste from the Hills and haste from the brake / Leave your dear adopted homes on the shore of the lake / Leave the stead [sic, for ?steed?] in the Plough leave the ox in the stall / And haste you like men to the Warriors call / Shall the Englishman boast that our glories he?-il dim? / Shall we yield up the Laurel of Valour to him? / Shall Englands proud Lyons march forth in their might / While Erins are backward to join in the fight. / No - we know they are dauntless courageais [sic] and brave / Their onset is furious as tempest tossed wave / But ne?re shall Erind [sic] one inch to them yield / In the fierce escallade or the hard faughten fixed / Then have sons of Erin ne?re past-glories forget / Loud sound Faugh-a-ballagh that toxin of death / Your ranks shall be filled with the true sould and high / Also will rush to the conflict who will conquer or die / Then at once let one standard be tossed to the wind / Let the shamrock with glories red cross be combined / Let our Stern Contention be only to show / Who can hie them most nobly in fronth [sic] of the foe / Caledonia may sing of the deeds she has done / Brittania may boast of the Fields she has won / They may talk of their battles by land and by sea / And tell us no countris [sic] are braver than they / [verso] How their Enemies quailed at their furious Hurragh / But have they heard ?Paady? [sic] shout Enis-go Bragh / How the Russians have lately confessed to their cost / The Irishmans charge when our baynots are crossed / with our fire and our steel how we made them soon run / In spite of their Cossacks and grape shotted gun / They soon turned tail when they heard our hurragh / And felt the cold steel of fierce Erin-go Bragh / Those dastardly Yankees unworthy our steel / for our foul insulted Colours soon our vengeance shall feel / Oh! we pant for the hour they shall hear our hurragh / And pay their dread debt to fierce Erin-go Bragh / The call of your Country land echoes for men / Your furious sons of Erin will be at it again / Then let us haste to your ranks let us join heart and hand / For vengonce [sic] for fame for our loved Father land / Long the Yankee shall tremble to hear the Hurragh / Of the death dealing charge of fierce Erin-go-bragh?.