The best plans of battle fall apart at the fight,
The devil always sides with his own.
The stuggle for Irelands freedom proved this again and again,
As its soil the spilt blood of her hero’s has known.
It was not Irelands day, like many before and to come:
The French and the Irish, the same fight if not the reasons why…
French fought for Irelands freedom from Empires cruel rule:
Yet the same freedom to their own Imperial subjects would deny.
Humbert on Shanmullagh, his forces made their stand –
The English crossed the bogs from direction of Drumlish…
Both sides prayed to the one God to be victorius that day:
That they’d survive or die quickly many wished.
Placed along the road Battalion of Irish Pipemen along with the French Grenadiers,
Awaited reinforcements that were not to come…
To their surprise and dismay, it is British who approach:
The direction that their own were to be from!
The French opened fire, but were outflanked…
Jobit showed the white flag with some 200 men.
Brave Blake made his stand with the Gunner McGee,
At Gaigue to fight for Irelands freedom again.
But the day it was lost, Humbert had surrendered…
McGee bore the cannon on his back:
Broken in the recoil, as was Irelands cause for that day!
Brave the Irish died in the attack.
Both sides for retreat each other they blamed,
Seeing bravery in only thier own…
The soldier sees no sense in the rebels disorderly attack,
Who never the discipline of training has known.
The rebel knows to flee for to save his skin,
Waits not for command of flag or horn!
Looks like cowardice to the soldier what to the rebel is common sense:
They may live to fight again another morn.
The fled, no peace argued for them, they were for the death!
Accross the wild bogs of Edenmore
Where I walk where they died by the there British pursued
After that battle all those long years ago.