%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> TO HIS / MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY / VVILLIAM / King of Great=Brittain, & / The Humble Address of the Regimented / CAMERONIAN PRESBYTERIANS / Lying at MONTROSE, and Adjacent Cities in ANGUS. / December 12th. 1609. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 07/15/2014 34173

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R185120 REligious Sir, whom GOD doth call and chuse, / On Earth His great Lieutenants place to use; Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 43 TO HIS / MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY / VVILLIAM / King of Great=Brittain, & / The Humble Address of the Regimented / CAMERONIAN PRESBYTERIANS / Lying at MONTROSE, and Adjacent Cities in ANGUS. / December 12th. 1609. TO HIS MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY WILLIAM King of Great Britain, & The Humble Address of the Regimented CAMERONIAN PRESBYTERIANS Lying at MONTROSE, and Adjacent Cities in ANGUS. December 12th. 1609. ?-?

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family Featured folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 7/15/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America country/ nation politics/ government religious groups royalty Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 7/15/2014 12:12:42 PM XBallad Chow, Jeremy Created XML Version of Ballad 7/15/2014 12:12:42 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/15/2014 12:12:42 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/15/2014 12:12:42 PM Transcriptionist Two Jones, John H. Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/15/2014 12:12:42 PM Transcriptionist One Webb, Ali Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/6/2014 Checker Megan Palmer Browne Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 12/4/2012 Bibliographer Olivia Miller Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 12/4/2012 Checker Olivia Miller Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/24/2014 Checker Jeremy Chow Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">TO HIS</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">WILLIAM</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left">King of Great-Brittain, &</seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Humble Address of the Regimented</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">CAMERONIAN PRESBYTERIANS</hi></seg> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Lying at MONTROSE, and Adjacent Cities in <hi rend="bold">ANGUS.</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="8" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">December 12th. 1689.</hi></hi></seg>
REligious Sir, whom GOD doth call and chuse, On Earth His great Lieutenants place to use; We bless that Night, which did bring forth that Morn, Wherein 'twas said, There is a Man Child born, Of so much Valour and renoun'd Esteem, Who shall from Bondage Britains Isle redeem: O! Happy time wherein we now can say, (Although we be be-north the River Tay) Which Place, Great Sir, of all Your great Dominions, Doth hate us most, and all of our Opinions; For there the Gospel never shined bright, They loved Darkness, greatly hated Light; They mocke Religion, and True Gospel Preachers, Painful Pastors, and Religious Teachers; And also, Sir, we dare be bold to say, The Devil reigneth there, until this day; They love not you, who is their Roval HERO But cleave to James, that Cruel Bloody Nero. E[?] Great Sir, some Angus Lairds, [?] d, they [?] and Ale, These are their Principles, this is their Zeal. O! Happy time, we say, when we can boast, For all their Circuits, and the Highland Host! For all their Tests, and Bonds of Regulation, Which were so grievous to this Ancient Nation; Yet some of us our Garments keeped clean, And free of spots, ye know, Sir, what we mean. Sir, we have seen the day, when James did reign, They would our Brethren to the Scafford bring, And Torture them alive, like Mallefactors. Or, in some Murdering Stratagim, great Actors Would fix their Heads up in the Marcat Places, A Curse come down their Bloody Murdering Faces. Again, Great Sir, we ever will incline, To Register the Fatal Eighty Nine: In which the LORD hath you our King appointed, And since, Great Sir, you are the LORD's Anointed; HE hath wrought wonderous Works to bring you in, Imploy your strength against that Man of Sin; Crush his Designs, confound their Popisle Plots, Believe them not, altho they turn their Coats. Of you, Great Sir, the Prophets have foretold, In latter times, and in the dayes of Old; Great Britains King shall yet Religious be, And shall demolish Grove, and each green Tree, In which your Priors, did their Homage give To Stocks, and Stones, and things which do not live! And while you Fight against JEHOVAHs Foes, And still in him your Confidence repose, He'll be your Sheild and Buckler in the War, And when your Enemies approach afar; At sight of you, they'l turne their back and yield. Because the LORD for you doth fight the Field; But yet, Great Sir, if you shall turn aside, And in his Statutes shall not firm abide;
We must be bold, to tell you from our Heart; That soon or syne the LORD will make you smart; And this hath very frequently been seen, In many Lands upon both King and Queen: This good Advice (we hope) will be no Treason, It's back'd with Scripture, and the height of Reason. Nixt, Sir, we hope by your Heroick Hand, Shall be reduc'd, our broken * Neighbouring Land: We hope to see your great Parade advance, And fix your Camp into the Heart of France: We hope to see you Scall the Walls of Rome, And give the Man of Sin his Fatal Doom; And we ourselves shall in your presence be, And Celebrate that strange Catastrophe. Some Men that are our Enemies and yours, Say, That we'll not obey Superiour Powers; But yet, Great Sir, we'll make them understand, Before themselves, we'll notice your Command. A[?]e, Great Sir [?] will [?] [?] through the Wizorn, Great Sir, some in the Army, and the State, If they by any means could know their Fate, They would lend in their Strength, you to Dethrone, And set a Popish Tyrant thereupon: But Blessed be GOD, it is not in their Station, To know the Secrets of Predestination: They do pretend their King was thrust away, And that he got not fair impartial play! Which is right true, for if the Law had been Put in its force, against him and his Queen, Ere now they had been both in Purgatory, Through which Catholick Souls do enter Glory! Likewise, Great Sir, before the Throne shall be Possess'd by any Papists, such as he, Our Blood shall run like Clyds enraged Streams, And Phoebus throw our Bodie send his Beams. Great Sir, we thank you, Prelacy is gone, Under that Yoak, our Land did sadly groan, They have Oppressed us, and all our Friends, They strove to break our Conscience and our Means, And some of us they did not leave a Cock, Nor in our Yard a growing green Kelstock. And now, Great Sir, in an unusual manner, We Fight under a Regal British Banner; We are your Servants, and will spend our Blood, Upon the Quarrel, while the Cause is good; We'll go through all the World at your Command, We hope, Great Sir, You'l give Us Pay in hand. GREAT SIR, We close, hoping You will remember, We're in the North, and now it is December; Our Cloaths are thinn, our Purses are right bare, To bide these two, Great Sir, it is right fare. And also, Sir, we lye among our Foes, Giv[?] [a]nd Subscribed, at Montrose. * Ireland.
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