Betsy Gray was an Ulster Scot, a Presbyterian, and a true daughter of Ireland. Mudered by British Yeomanry in 1798. This poem tells the story. There are many poems and ballads about her in Ulster, this is my contribution to her legacy...
Oh, Erin mourns a daughter
Who was tragically cut away
A Scot of Ulster who for Ireland
Was killed one fateful day
Her hand cut off by a traitor
Who tried to apprehend her
She used upon the English
Their own cry of "No Surrender"
And though she was a lady
And her brother and lover offered to surrender to let her go
The cowardly and brutal English
Their good breeding they did show
And shot the men upon the sopt
Unpon which they did stand
And Jack Gill ever the gentle man
With his sword cut off her hand
And Annahilt, the townland
Can boast two of her sons
Thomas Nelson and James Little
In the woman emptied their guns.
Oh Im sure England is proud of her valiant men
And of the brave deeds they did do
Even those of their own church
Refused to share their pew
And the petticoats of the murdered lady
And her jewellery too
Was worn by the womenfolk of the Littles
And that by all was knew
The siblings Gray, George and Betsy
And her lover Willie Boal we commemorate
For they were true children of Erin
Without fear they met their fate
Though their names are not well known
Like many of their kind
Let this verse for future generations
Bring these Protestant Irish heros to mind.
And when narrow minded bigots
Ill od Scots and Protestants speak
Tell them of Tandy, Mc Craken and the Orrs
And the Grays, and Boal: and tell them shut their beak!
Oh my.. what a creation, history and the written word combined into a lament
Tis sad the history of our part of the world.. but then, what countries havent done tragic and cruel deeds to another.. and, it's still happening - God help us.
What I wonder is, will there still be someone with your skill and sensitivities to document or remember what's gone on in times past?
Wicked yes...
A Scot of Ulster who for Ireland
Was killed one fateful day
Her hand cut off by a traitor
Who tried to apprehend her
She used upon the English
Their own cry of "No Surrender"
And though she was a lady
And her brother and lover offered to surrender to let her go
The cowardly and brutal English
Their good breeding they did show
And shot the men upon the sopt (spot?)
Unpon which they did stand (upon?)
And Jack Gill ever the gentle man
With his sword cut off her hand
And Annahilt, the townland
Can boast two of her sons
Thomas Nelson and James Little
In the woman emptied their guns.
I selected this as a feature for the next few days in Electric Eclectic. I love a good historic tale and this one was top notch. Great work and I applaud your tribute to her heroism.
Oh my.. what a creation, history and the written word combined into a lament
Tis sad the history of our part of the world.. but then, what countries havent done tragic and cruel deeds to another.. and, it's still happening - God help us.
What I wonder is, will there still be someone with your skill and sensitivities to document or remember what's gone on in times past?
Wicked yes...
A Scot of Ulster who for Ireland
Was killed one fateful day
Her hand cut off by a traitor
Who tried to apprehend her
She used upon the English
Their own cry of "No Surrender"
And though she was a lady
And her brother and lover offered to surrender to let her go
The cowardly and brutal English
Their good breeding they did show
And shot the men upon the sopt (spot?)
Unpon which they did stand (upon?)
And Jack Gill ever the gentle man
With his sword cut off her hand
And Annahilt, the townland
Can boast two of her sons
Thomas Nelson and James Little
In the woman emptied their guns.
I can hear your Irish voice in this prose, it flows as your countrymen speak, full of color and passion. You talent is suberb. Thanks for inviting me to be your friend, I'm sure to enjoy reading your work.
Unfortunately, wikipedia doesn't have an article about her. Perhaps you like to write one. A wonderful tribut to her. I like when you write like this. I learn by your work irish and english history, amazing. keep it up please for such not knowing ones like me. also my Illicit Woman was not a hippie poem, furthermore a philosophical thought the same one as everything else what I write since almost 4 years: life by feelings not by reason.
I myself love to go to Ireland one day, not only because of it's territorial beauty, but because of it's rich history. i salute the Irish folks for their bravery, and i'm glad you shared a piece of Erin in this wonderfully- written poem! It's nice to read about an inspiring woman who
"... used upon the English
Their own cry of 'No Surrender' ".
thank you for sharing this :) i absolutely love it.
Renmore, Galway, Ireland, An Roinne Mór, Gallaimh, Eire, Ireland
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