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Arthur McBride
Traditional 

Full song MP3 (1.6 meg) Four verses MP3 (225K) Arthur McBride is sung by Andy Irvine Please refer to Cantaria's Copyright information

This song was collected around 1840 in  Limerick by P.W. Joyce. He believed it to originally come from Donegal, based on the phraseology of the song. It's an anti-recruiting song similar in theme to The Kerry Recruit, Mrs. McGrath and Johnny I Hardly Knew Ya..; and there are many more. Along with "The Landlord" and "The Excise Man",  the "Recruiting Sergeant" was a popular target for poetic ire, because he conscripted young Irishmen to fight on behalf of England.  

In the mid-eighteenth century, if an English soldier took off his uniform, the minimum penalty was twenty-five lashes with a cat-o-nine-tails, and 1500 lashes the maximum. Average pay was eightpence a day.

As is characteristic of Andy Irvine, for solo performance, he's changed the time signature for this song. Originally, he and Paul Brady performed it in 3/4 time (see sheet music). For the definitive version, get ahold of the album "Andy Irvine and Paul Brady", Mulligan Records, 1976 or Paul Brady's "The Liberty Tapes" released on Compass Records, 2002

sheet music

I had a first cousin called Arthur McBride
He and I took a stroll down by the seaside;
Seeking good fortune and what might betide
It was just as the day was a'dawnin'

After restin' we both took a tramp
We met Sergeant Harper and Corporal Cramp
Besides the wee drummer who beat up the camp
With his row-dee-dow-dow in the morning

He says my young fellows if you will enlist
A guinea you quickly will have in your fist
Besides a crown for to kick up the dust
And drink the King's health in the morning

For a soldier he leads a very fine life
He always is blessed with a charming young wife
And he pays all his debts without sorrow or strife
And always lives happy and charming

And a soldier he always is decent and clean
In the finest of garments he's constantly seen
While other poor fellows go dirty and mean
And sup on thin gruel in the morning

Says Arthur, I wouldn't be proud of your clothes
You've only the lend of them as I suppose
And you dare not change them one night or you know
If you do you'll be flogged in the morning

And although we are single and free
We take great delight in our own company
And we have no desire strange countries to see
Although your offer is charming

And we have no desire to take your advance
All hazards and danger we barter on chance
and you'd have no scruples to send us to France
Where we would be shot without warning

And now says the sergeant, if I hear but one word
I'll instantly now will out with my sword
And into your bodies as strength will afford
So now my gay devils take warning

But Arthur and I we took the odds
We gave them no chance to launch out their swords
Whacking shillelaghs came over their heads
And paid them right smart in the morning

As for the wee drummer, we rifled his pow
And made a football of his row-do-dow-dow
Into the ocean to rock and to roll
And bade it a tedious returnin'

As for the old rapier that hung by his side
We flung it as far as we could in the tide
To the Devil I pitch you, says Arthur McBride
To temper your steel in the morning

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