%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A Huy and Cry after Sir John Barlycorn, / A base Rebel denounc'd at the Horn, / Fled from the Country where he was bred and Born. Pennecuik, Alexander University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer 1725-1725 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 07/15/2014 34331

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T189145 WE all the Drunkards of the Nation, / Issue Our Royal Proclamation Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 99 A Huy and Cry after Sir John Barlycorn, / A base Rebel denounc'd at the Horn, / Fled from the Country where he was bred and Born. A Hue and Cry after Sir John Barlycorn, A base Rebel denounced at the Horn, Fled from the Country where he was bred and Born. Pennecuik, Alexander 1725-1725

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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 affliction/ health alcohol death politics/ government Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 7/15/2014 2:34:40 PM XBallad Chow, Jeremy Created XML Version of Ballad 7/15/2014 2:34:40 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/15/2014 2:34:40 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/15/2014 2:34:40 PM Transcriptionist Two McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/15/2014 2:34:40 PM Transcriptionist One Collins, Courtney Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/25/2014 Checker Erik Bell Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 4/25/2014 Checker Erik Bell Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/10/2014 Checker Jeremy Chow Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/16/2013 Bibliographer Shannon Meyer Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
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WE all the Drunkards of the Nation, Issue Our Royal Proclamation To you great King at Arms, the Lion, (Since every Leidge thro' Drought is dying;) With all your Bretheren, Heraulds too, And Pursuevants, that follow you. On Sight hereof, you mount the Cross, Display your Coats and your Cognosce, By Trumpet Voice will reach each Garrat, Publish to all the World Our Arret. Forasmuch as We and Adherents, By many Acts of Our Sederunts, Have found, That Sir JOHN BARLEYCORN Was for the good of Mankind born, And therefore, that the Commonwealth Should drink his Blood to nourish Health: And that no free Leidge may be mocked, Who has a Penney in his Pocket; His Tutor-Datives call'd the Brewers, Without Respect to Saints or Whores, Shall distribute thro' every Inn His Blood, to be a Medicine: And they who fail thro' mad Pretences, Which none will do, that keep their Senses, Be held a Rebel 'gainst the King, And Capers cut in Hangies string: Yet notwithstanding, throw Contempt (Which merits well a Hank of Hemp) Of Justice, all Our Agents tell Us, The D---l a Drap is in an Ale-House. No more he comes to Bowl and Ring, Where he was ay the Tradesmens King; He's left the Beaux in Bowling-Green, And never at the Nine-Pins seen, Where Prentice Boys did toil and sweat Like Dog in Jack, that turns the Spit, And all the Boddles that they won, Giv'n to their Sov'reign Lord Sir JOHN. No more he's Preses of the Rabble, At Shuffle-Boards or Billard-Table; On Penny-Weddings turn's his Back,
No more he gets the Pipers Plack: Fiddlers can neither say nor sing, Their Throats as dry as Fiddel-String. He made young Farmers blyth and fow, Each Jockie kiss'd his Jenny's Mow, And suck'd her Lips he was so keen, At Babies glour'd in others Eeen, The Threesome Reel danc'd to a Wonder, And Maiden Heads went off like Thunder; At Fun'rals never shows his Head, The Living now's as dull's the Dead, The Lady Relict kiss'd Sir John, And rifted up the other Groan, But now with Grief she's doubly sunk, Wants both Sir John and the Defunct. Our Will is herefore, tell the People, With Voice as loud as Bells in Steeple, They search and apprehend the Trewan, Who basely has deserted Brewing; Betray'd by Fellows, who tell Lies, That he will sink thro' dear Excise: And they shall have a high Reward, Bring him before a drunken Laird, Who sleept not sound a single Night Since Sir JOHN BARLEYCORN took Flight; Cries thro' his Dreams, I'll starve this Year, The fein a Farthing for our Bear: How will my Meg get Hoods and Hoops, Bra Cloaths came from the Ale-Wives Stoups, Jock my old Son, and Will, his Brother, May turn Religious like their Mother; Quit all their Hounds, and Hawks and Whores; Na' mair keep Ale-House and the Muirs, Next if you'l apprehend the Lown, And bring him to Auld-rickies Town, Rich Burger's Wives will pay 'em fine, Who's Throats are dry with Forty nine. And Citizens, whose Purse is shorter, Are all consum'd with English Porter. If He return not at your Call, He's get the Curses of us all.
His EPITAPH. BLyth has he been, but now He's gone, Of Commerads the best: What will we do without Sir JOHN, With Grief we're sore oppress'd: A better Subject and a Friend The Kingdom never saw; But ah! He made a fatal End, And yet He dy'd by Law.