Valenciennes

(1793)     BY CORP'L TULLIDGE: see "The Trumpet-Major"     IN MEMORY OF S. C. (PENSIONER). DIED 184-     We trenched, we trumpeted and drummed,     And from our mortars tons of iron hummed     Ath'art the ditch, the month we bombed     The Town o' Valencieen.     'Twas in the June o' Ninety-dree     (The Duke o' Yark our then Commander been)     The German Legion, Guards, and we     Laid siege to Valencieen.     This was the first time in the war     That French and English spilled each other's gore;      Few dreamt how far would roll the roar     Begun at Valencieen!     'Twas said that we'd no business there     A-topperen the French for disagreen;     However, that's not my affair -     We were at Valencieen.     Such snocks and slats, since war began     Never knew raw recruit or veteran:     Stone-deaf therence went many a man     Who served at Valencieen.     Into the streets, ath'art the sky,     A hundred thousand balls and bombs were fleen;     And harmless townsfolk fell to die     Each hour at Valencieen!     And, sweaten wi' the bombardiers,     A shell was slent to shards anighst my ears:      'Twas nigh the end of hopes and fears     For me at Valencieen!     They bore my wownded frame to camp,     And shut my gapen skull, and washed en clean,     And jined en wi' a zilver clamp     Thik night at Valencieen.     "We've fetched en back to quick from dead;     But never more on earth while rose is red     Will drum rouse Corpel!" Doctor said     O' me at Valencieen.     'Twer true. No voice o' friend or foe     Can reach me now, or any liven been;     And little have I power to know     Since then at Valencieen!     I never hear the zummer hums     O' bees; and don' know when the cuckoo comes;     But night and day I hear the bombs     We threw at Valencieen . . .     As for the Duke o' Yark in war,     There be some volk whose judgment o' en is mean;     But this I say a was not far     From great at Valencieen.     O' wild wet nights, when all seems sad,     My wownds come back, as though new wownds I'd had;     But yet at times I'm sort o' glad     I fout at Valencieen.     Well: Heaven wi' its jasper halls     Is now the on'y Town I care to be in . . .     Good Lord, if Nick should bomb the walls     As we did Valencieen!     1878-1897.