Th'Ordnance At 'Burton
By William Beaumont
      

A 'traditional' British monologue often recited at Fox Hunt suppers
in the Yorkshire / Lancashire borders. 'Burton is Kirkburton near Huddersfield



I'm ringing up me curtain
Upon an ancient scene.
When t'redcoits came to 'Burton,
To measure t' land for t' Queen.

They turned up in fine weather,
One summer out o' t' blue.
A score altogether,
With one in charge o' t' crew.

A Sergeant, such a pusher,
An' just as full o' swank,
As t' Emporer o' Prussia,
Or t' boss o' t' Penny Bank.

And every neet in t' local,
That Sergeant could be seen,
Impressin' many a locals,
With 'paper from the Queen.'

Her Majesty had sent 'im
To measure up 'er land.
And to this end she'd lent 'im
This paper from 'er hand.

Victoria's bit o' velum,
A big red seal it bore,
An' every neet 'e'd tell 'em,
As tall as t' neet afore,

How at a palace pageant,
Victoria 'ad said
'Stand forth that splended Sergeant'
And forrad 'e were led.

'Er Majesty confided,
'Our maps must be all true,
And so I have decided
To give the job to you.

Thou shall't have right of entry
To any man's estate,
The yeomanry, the gentry,
The humble and the great.'

So one bright June mornin'
Those redcoits in a swarm,
Without a word of warnin'
Descended on Slant Farm.

Now t' tenant, Billy Pogson,
'E waved a warnin' stick
'Clear off or I'll set t' dogs on!'
he ordered double quick.

But the Sergeant showed 'is permit,
And said 'We're 'ere to stay.
This document, old hermit,
Gives us the right of way.'

Its paragraphs he fingered,
With military zeal,
And lovingly 'e lingered
Upon its royal seal

' Alreight!' said Billy, 'umbled
By what 'ad been revealed
'But just tek care' 'e grumbled,
'Stay out o' t' bottom field'

Said t' Sergeant quite unheedful,
'We'll go where we think fit
And if we find it needful,
We'll tramp all over it!'

Well, twenty minutes later,
T' Sergeant cock-a-hoop
Observed by one spectator,
Led in 'is loyal troop.

They marched in fine and steady,
So splendid to be seen,
Wi' chains an' tackle ready
T' measure t' land for t' Queen.

Then farmer Pogson viewing
From t'other side o' t' wall,
'There'll be trouble brewin'
when ol' Brutus sees 'em all.'

Bad tempered Brutus layed there,
Dozin' in t' long grass,
Beneath th' old elm trees,
'Till 'e 'eard them redcoits pass.

It made his owner shiver,
That first tremendous roar,
For surely no bull iver
Saw so much red afore.

He raised up on 'is forelegs,
And give a second cry,
At which a couple score of legs
Across yond field did fly.

Now, by my simple schoolin',
Beyond a shadow of a doubt,
There's no gansayin' t' rulin' ,
T' first in is last un out.

When they all started,
T' Sergeant stooid at 'ead,
Now they'd all departed,
'E stood at back instead!

All buttoned up an' buckled,
'E puffed away at t' rear,
And farmer Pogson chuckled
And gave a hearty cheer,


As 'e watched that Sergeant caper,
And like a rabbit run.
An' yelled to him: 'Thi paper!
Show him thi paper, mun!'