> Folk Music > Songs > Plains of Waterloo

Plains of Waterloo

[ Roud 2853 ; G/D 1:152 ; Henry H15 ; Ballad Index HHH015 ; Bodleian Roud 2853 ; DT ATENVELT ; trad.]

Gale Huntington, Lani Herrmann, John Moulden: Sam Henry’s Songs of the People

Steve Turner sang this Plains of Waterloo in 1979 on his first Fellside album Out Stack. He noted:

One of at lest half o dozen songs with this title, ranging from the verse blow by blow accounts of the battle of Waterloo itself to the classic Canadian broken-token ballad first collected from Mr. O.J. Abbot of Ottawa. The version here is English and consists of a fragment of the tune and words taken from the F.S.S. Journals and supplemented by o Manchester broadside.

Kathryn Roberts sang Plains of Waterloo in 1995 on her and Kate Rusby’s eponymous CD, Kate Rusby & Kathryn Roberts.

Mary Humphreys Plains of Waterloo in 2009 on her and Anahata’s WildGoose album of traditional English songs and tunes collected in and around the fens, Cold Fen. They noted:

Another song collected by Ralph Vaughan Williams from Fen Ditton, this time from agricultural labourer Harry Mallion, brother of Llewellyn and collected on 27 August 1906. Again only the tune was collected and the words are added from a broadside.

We follow it with a jolly tune [Down With the French] we like to play at sessions which probably sums up the feelings of the bereaved girl in the song. It can be found in the Winder family manuscripts dating from 1789. They were a farming family from Dolphinholme, Wyresdale, Lancashire who diversified into playing for dances locally.

Lyrics

Steve Turner sings Plains of Waterloo

Note: This transcription has some phrases that do not make much sense

Come all you loyal lovers and I’d have you to draw near,
Oh, and listen unto these few lines that I have written here.
Oh, and while these lines I do indict the tears my cheeks produce,
Lamenting for my own true love who was slain at Waterloo.

Oh, my hands they are so feeble, my pen I scarce can hold,
My heart is filled with sorrow now, my troubles are untold.
I mourn just like a turtle dove, oh, what more can I do?
For now, alas, my love lies dead on the plains of Waterloo.

Oh, I wish that I’d been near my love the day on which he fell,
Like a bold, undaunted hero there his enemies I’d expel.
Oh, a good sword and with musket his foes I would subdue.
Oh, I’d kill the man who shot my love on the plains of Waterloo.

Then I’d embark from the cold o’er [courts?] across the raging sea
And fight [an old?] French cavalry along with the bold Scots Grays.
All the universe I would penetrate, all its force I would subdue,
But now, alas, my love lies dead on the plains of Waterloo.

Oh, I wish that I was an eagle, I would fly into the air
And forth to loose my neighbours and not find him there.
Oh, I would become some little fish, the Shannon I’d swim through
Till I did find my darling boy who was slain at Waterloo.

Kathryn Roberts sings Plains of Waterloo

Come all you loyal lovers, I pray you to draw near
To lie and eye a verse or two I mean to let you hear
In the praises of a worthy youth who’s honest, fair, and true
Who fought through Spain and Portugal and fell at Waterloo
The young man that I sing about was proper tall and trim
His body like the wax work, there’s few could equal him
His cheeks they were a rosy red, his eyes the deep, dark blue
With my charming fair, none could compare on the Plains of Waterloo

When the fight was at its fiercest they fought with hеarts and will
When guns did loudly rattle and shot and shell did kill
My love he fell a victim ’mongst the thousands that they’d slew
Far from his own to hear him moan on the Plains of Waterloo
My love he lay the whole night long, my love he lay in pain
When the war was spread he raised his head and daylight came again
When that his comrades found him ’mongst the thousands that they’d slew
He discoursed, my love, an hour or more on the Plains of Waterloo

“Farewell my comrades, likewise to my sweetheart”
These were the very words he said and then he did depart
They dug my love a silent grave, the tears they were not few
And they laid him in the cold clay on the Plains of Waterloo
The more he’s gone and left me, no other will I take
Through lonesome woods and shady groves I wander for his sake
Through lonesome woods and shady groves I’ll wander through and through
And I’ll mourn for him that’s dead upon the Plains of Waterloo

Mary Humphreys sings Plains of Waterloo

Come all you loyal lovers I pray you lend an ear
And listen unto these few lines that I have written here
While these few lines that I do write the tears my cheek bedew
Lamenting for my darling boy that was slain at Waterloo.

My hands they are so feeble my pen I scarce can hold
I’m troubled in my mind and my blood it does run cold
I mourn like the turtle dove, what more can I do
Bewailing for my darling boy that was slain at Waterloo?

I wish that I’d been near my love the sad day that he fell.
Like a bold undaunted hero his enemies I’d expel.
With a good sword and musket his foes I would subdue.
I’d kill the man that shot my love on the plains of Waterloo.

I wish I was an eagle I would fly up in the air
And search the country round about and hope to find him there.
I wish I was a little fish the oceans to swim through
Till I did find my darling boy that was slain at Waterloo.