The Taylor's Ramble, Or the Blue's Valour Displayed.
Reading edition
This ballad I print from a MS. copy of full fifty years old, in my own collection. I am not aware that it has ever before been printed. To another copy in the Bateman Collection, (which differs in the wording, though not in the sense, in many places, and in which the sixth verse is wanting,) is appended this note: "The Tailor's name was Eyre, and this curious exploit was performed on the 19th January, 1797."
Come all you gallant heroes of courage stout and bold, And I'll tell you of a Taylor that would not be controld; It happened in Derbyshire, as you may understand, Five troops of the cavelry to take this noble man. So now I do begin to tell you of the fun, Full twenty miles that morning this Taylor he had run, And when he came to Ashford,[45] the people they did cry, Make haste, my jovel lad, for your enimies are nigh. This Taylor was a mighty man, a man of wonderous size, And when he came to Entcliff[46] hill, you would have thought he would have reached the skies; And when he did climb those rocks that was so wonderous high, The cavelry came all round, and the Taylor they did spy. They loaded their Pistols with Powder and with Ball, All for to take this Taylor that was both stout and tall; He was near four feet high, and a mighty man indeed, Youl'd a laugh'd to have seen the cavelry ride after him full speed. In lighting from their horses, their valour for to shew, Five of them upon the ground this Taylor he did throw; They being sore afrighted, saying, we would shoot him if we durst, But their Carbines would not fire, for their Balls they had put in first. Their Captain, as Commander, he ordered ranks to form, All for to take this Taylor, and Entcliff rocks to storm; Prime and load then was the word their captain he did cry, Chear up, my jovel lads, let us conquerors be or die. These valiants being reinforced, they took the Taylor bold, And guarded him to Bakewell,[47] the truth I will unfold: At the White Horse Inn in Bakewell, as you may understand, Full fifty of their troops to guard this noble man. The Battle being over, the Taylor they have won, And this is the first prank our cavelry has done; I'll tell you the truth, they cannot refuse, They are ten times worse than the run away blues. Here's a health unto the Taylor, of courage stout and bold, And by our noble cavelry he scorns to be controld; If he'd but had his goose, his bodkin, and his shears, He would soon have cleared Bakewell of those Derby Volunteers.