%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The READING Skirmish: / Or, The Bloody Irish Routed by the Victorious Dutch. / Five hundred Papishes came there, / to make a final end / Of all the Town, in time of Prayer, / but God did them defend. 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 07/13/2021 37446

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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

R235752 1 Lilli borlero Lilliburlero Lilliburlero WE came into brave Reading by Night, / five hundred Horse=men proper and tall; by Chreest and St. Patrick, we all go down. [with variation] British Library - Bagford Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 2: 97 2: 98 The READING Skirmish: / Or, The Bloody Irish Routed by the Victorious Dutch. / Five hundred Papishes came there, / to make a final end / Of all the Town, in time of Prayer, / but God did them defend. The READING Skirmish: Or, The Bloody Irish Routed by the Victorious Dutch. Five hundred Papists came there, to make a final end Of all the Town, in time of Prayer, but God did them defend. ?-? J.D.

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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 7/13/2021 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 7/13/2021 2:35:50 PM XBallad King, Joyce Created XML Version of Ballad 7/13/2021 2:35:50 PM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/13/2021 2:35:50 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Stark, Nicole Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/13/2021 2:35:50 PM Transcriptionist Two McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/13/2021 2:35:50 PM Transcriptionist One Abrams, Annie Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/3/2019 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The READING Skirmish;</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">Or, The Bloody</hi> Irish <hi rend="bold">Routed by the Victorious</hi> Dutch.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Five hundred</hi> Papishes <hi rend="italic">came there,</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="indent"><hi rend="italic">to make a final end</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Of all the Town, in time of Prayer,</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="indent"><hi rend="italic">but God did them defend.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To the Tune of,</hi> Lilli borlero.</seg> <lb/> <seg n="8" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">L</hi></hi><hi rend="italic">icensed according to Order.</hi></seg>
WE came into brave Reading by Night, five hundred Horse-men proper and tall; Yet not resolved fairly to Fight, but for to cut the Throats of them all: Most of us was Irish Papists, who vow'd to Kill, then Plunder the Town; We this never doubted, but soon we were Routed, by Chreest and St. Patrick, we all go down. In Reading Town we ne'r went to Bed, every Soul there mounted his Horse, Hoping next day to fill them with dread, yet I Swear by St. Patricks Cross, We most shamefully was Routed, Fortune was pleas'd to give us a Frown, And blasted our Glory, i'le tell you the Story, by Chreest and St. Patrick, we all go down. We thought to slay them all in their sleep, but by my Shoul, were never the near; The Hereticks their Guard did so keep, which put us in a trembling fear:
We concluded something further, to seize the Churches all in the Town, With killing and slaying, while they were a Praying, but we were Routed, and soon run down. Nay, before Noon, we vow'd to dispatch every Man, nay, Woman and Child; This in our hearts we freely did hatch, vowing to make a prey of the Spoil: But we straightways was prevented, when we did hope for Fame and Renown, In less then an hour, we forced to scoure, by Chreest and St. Patrick, we are run down. We were resolved Reading to clear, having in hand the flourishing Sword, The Bloody Sceen was soon to appear, for we did then but wait for the Word: While the Ministers were Preaching, we were resolved to have at their Gown, But straight was surrounded, and clearly confounded by Chreest and St. Patrick, we all go down.
Just as we all were fit to fall on, in came the Dutch with fury and speed; And amongst them there was not a Man, but what was rarely Mounted indeed: And Rid up as fierce as Tygers, knitting their Brows, they on us did frown, Not one of them idle, their Teeth held their Bridle, by Chreest and St. Patrick, we were run down. They never stood to use many Words, but in all haste up to us they flock'd, In their right hands their flourishing Swords, and in their left Carbines ready Cock'd: We were forc'd to flye before them, thorow the Lanes and Streets of the Town, While they pursu'd after, and threatn'd a slaughter, by Chreest and St. Patrick, we were run down. Thus being fairly put to the Rout, hunted and drove before 'um like Dogs, Our Captain bid us then face about, but we wisht for our Irish Bogs; Having no great mind for Fighting, the Dutch did drive us thorow the Town; Our Foreheads we Crossed, yet still was unhorsed, by Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down. We threw away our Swords and Carbines, Pistols and Cloaks lay strow'd on the Lands; Cutting off Boots, for running, Uds-doyns, one pair of Heels was worth two pair of Hands: Then we call'd on sweet St. Coleman, hoping he might our Victory Crown; But Dutchmen pursuing, poor Teagues, to our Ruine, by Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down. Never was Teagues so much in Distress, as the whole World may well understand; When we came here we thought to possess worthy Estates of Houses and Land: But we find 'tis all a Story, Fortune is pleased on us to frown; Instead of our Riches, we stink in our Breeches, by Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down. They call a thing a Three-legged Mare, where they will fit each Neck with a Nooze; Then with our Beads to say our last Prayer, after all this to Dye in our Shooes: Thence we pack to Purgatory, for us let all the Jesuits Pray; Farewel Father Peters, here's some of your Creatures would have you to follow the selfsame way.
Printed for J.D. in the Year 1688.