Michael Dwyer’s Escape

Michael Dwyer is my name. I’ll not deny the same
In the mountains of West Wicklow I was born
I was in a fight of late with the men of ’98
And we took Enniscorthy by storm
When the rising was put down, we very quickly found
That in our own homes we could no longer dwell
But many’s a lonely cave some form of comfort gave
And the people of these mountains know us well

The snow was falling fast and the night was far advanced
When the three safe houses came in view
The weather was sеvere, but a guard was posted nеar
Though the dangers on a night like this were few;
But some sneaking little spy to his master he did fly
And may I live to even up the score
For when we awoke, to be sure it was no joke
To find a hundred Highland soldiers at the door

“Come out, you rebel band” cried the captain in command
“For you do not have a prayer, not a hope
Surrender to me now and your lives, I vow
Will be spared the bullet and the rope”
Says Dwyer to his men, “Boys, here we are again
Though I’m afraid this time it cannot be denied
It would take more than God’s grace to defend this place
From a regiment of soldiers outside”

The house was set on fire with McAllister and Dwyer
Expecting to perish in the flames
With the powder and the smoke, they were nearly overcome
Crying, “A curse upon your bloody Highland games!”
From behind a stable wall, a well-aimed musket ball
Caused McAllister pain he could not hide
As his gun was blown away, he looked down with dismay
At his arm hanging useless by his side

He says, “Dwyer, I’m done. Hand me up your gun
Let’s see what a spring you can make
As he opened the door he gave one loud roar:
“I die for my country’s sake”
The volley rang out and Dwyer sprang forth
Poor Sam received the fire
O, generous and brave McAllister gave
Up his life for Michael Dwyer

Before they could reload, he was halfway down the road
With a kilted Scotsman snapping at his heels
The troopers held their fire till they saw what might transpire
And they watched as Dwyer tripped him in the field

Running like a mountain goat, no trousers, no coat
His bare feet were bleeding to be sure
As he crossed the Black Banks, he offered hearty thanks
And got safely to a cave in Glenmalure

We lost three men that day. our captain got away
And the others surrendered on the spot
Three of them, alas, were hanged in Baltinglass
The others went to face the firing squad
Dwyer fought the law, five years, maybe more
‘Til at last to Dublin he did go
And from there he set sail bound for New South Wales
Far from the County of Wicklow