RED AND GOLD......Ralph McTell.
Red and Gold are royal colours, Peasant colours are Green and Brown Green is the corn in the Brown earth when it's growing Red and Gold when the harvest is cut down.
Through Cropredy in Oxfordshire theCherwell takes it's course And the willows weep into the waters clear My name is Will Timms and it's here that I was born And raised in faith my King and God to fear.
In 1644 the King in Oxford town did dwell Though we'd heard that Cromwell's Army was nearby It did not occur to me that little Cropredy Could be witness to the meeting of both sides.
On June the 29th that year I was about my work Cutting hedges in a meadow by the stream My blade slipped,I cut my hand and my own dear blood did flow Upon the brown earth and the corn still green.
Now it did distress me so to watch my own blood flow And quickly soak into the greedy ground In Red and Gold my colours swam and sweat broke on my brow And faint I knew that I must lay me down.
At first I thought the thundering was just inside my head So I raised myself above the hedge to see And watched as in a dream as the armies fought downstream The battle for the bridge at Cropredy.
Now the Kings men fought in Red and Gold Though Cromwells men were plainer The blood they spilled was coloured just the same Through the hedgerows fragile cover I saw brother killing brother And all this was done in Jesus' name.
All that day and all the next the battle it was raging Though when darkness came,I slipped But the crying of the dying kept me wakeful and just lying In my bed until the dawning of the day.
And the dreams I had were Red and Gold And the little stream became a flood From all my brothers killing one another Till waking I did relise it was all my own dear blood.
Some were buried in the church and some just where they fell With no markers to declare their place of rest But the poppies they do grow where they were never sown And to my mind they do declare it best.
And each year when the Green corn once again turns into Gold And the poppies in the field again remind me Like the scar upon my hand and the blood spilt on this land And the hungry earth so eager to confine me.
For Red and Gold they are the colours One is blood and one is power Though I may find my rest in Cropredy church In Golden fields forever will sping the poppy flower.
By Cropredy the cherwell is still bidden to keep flowing And the willows by its side still gently weep But still in restless dreams by this most peaceful stream The poppies wake me from my rightful sleep.
And the dreams I have are Red and Gold And the little stream becomes a field From all my brothers killing one another Till waking I relised it's all my own dear blood.
Ralph:``In 1979 I was reheasing in Cropredy for an album with Dave Pegg when he mentioned that there had been a Civil War battle at Cropredy bridge.It seemed an obvious theme for a Fairport song because of their strong associations with the village,but it wasn't until 1985 when I was a spectator at the 5th Cropredy Festival,while listening to the band,watching the sun go down and the colours in the fields changing from green and brown to red and gold that I conceived the idea of William Timms being a witness to the fight in these same fields by this same river so many years before.ยดยด
Greetings John.
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