Arthur MacBride

🥁 Arthur McBride — Irish Anti-Recruitment Ballad (New Arrangement) #ArthurMcBride #Irishballad #antiwarfolk #irishmusic #NapoleonicFolk Arthur McBride is a traditional Irish anti-recruitment ballad, likely composed in the early 19th century during the Napoleonic Wars. Set on Christmas morning, it tells the tale of Arthur and his cousin, who are approached by British army recruiters offering gold and promises of glory. The young men decline, exposing the dangers of war and the falsehood of military life. When the recruiters turn aggressive, the cousins retaliate—with shilleleighs, wit, and well-placed blows—tossing weapons and even the drummer’s kit into the sea. ☘️ The ballad’s satirical tone and vivid imagery have long made it a favourite of Irish singers and resisters alike—part sharp-witted comedy, part political defiance. 🎶 My arrangement features: • Fiddle, accordion, guitar, banjo, Irish pipes, bass, and drums • A rhythmic, narrative-driven delivery with alternating verses and instrumental interludes This setting retains the song’s clever language and momentum, while trimming the verses for pace. Versions by Paul Brady, Andy Irvine, Martin Carthy, and Planxty have kept Arthur McBride alive across generations. ⸻ 📜 Lyrics appear below 🥃 Like, share, and subscribe for more bold, narrative folk ballads #irishfolk #antiwar #shilleleighballad #recruitmentresistance Oh, me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride As we went a-walking down by the seaside Now, mark what followed and what did betide for it being on Christ-i-mas morning. All for recreation, we went on a tramp And we met Sergeant Napper and Corporal Vamp Likewise, the wee drummer who beat up for camp, the day being pleasant and charming. “Good morning! Good morning!” the sergeant did cry. “And the same to you, gentlemen!” we did reply. Intending no harm we meant to pass by; for it being on Christ-i-mas morning. Says he, “My fine fellows if you will enlist, It’s ten guineas in gold I will slip in your fist And a crown in the bargain to kick up the dust, and drink the King’s health in the morning. Says Arthur: “Although we are single and free, we take great delight in our own company, We have no desire strange faces to see Although that your offer is charming. And we, have no desire to take your advance All hazards and dangers we’d rather not chance for you’d have no scruples but to send us to France, where we would get shot without warning.” ‘Oh now!’, says the Sergeant “I’ll have no such chat, And I neither will take it from spalpeen or brat. And if you insult me with one more retort I’ll cut off your heads in the morning.’ Then Arthur and I we soon drew our own hods And we scarce gave ‘em time for to draw their own blades, when a trusty Shaleigh came down on their heads And bade ‘em take that as fair warning. And their own rusty rapiers that hung by their sides We flung them as far as we could in the tide. ‘To the Devil I bid you!’, says Arthur McBride ‘to temper the blades in the morning.’ And the little wee drummer we flattened his howe And we made a football of his rowdy-dow-dow; flung it in the tide for to rock and to roll, and bade it a tedious returning.