In rural Scotland, as well as Ireland and England, agents of the king would wander rural areas, looking for the poor, those who found themselves in trouble, or even the feeble minded to serve in the king’s wars. Some used strong arm tactics, others offered a glamorous life of a soldier, while the more disreputable ones just got the unfortunates drunk and shipped them off while they were passed out.
The quality of the man mattered little, because there was always a need for soldiers to fill out the front ranks. These poor fellows were little more than cannon fodder, their job being to be the first to march upon the enemy and get obliterated in the process.
The song is related directly to the song “Over the Hills and Far Away,” and relates to the Black Watch, a highland Scottish regiment known for wearing kilts, and red feathers in their headdress.
The song’s lyrics require the Scottish dialect to make the rhyme scheme work, which poses difficulties for midwestern American folks trying to sing the verses. Having no Scottish singers on hand, we settled for a drunk with an advanced sense of confidence.
We stole the version from the Waterboys, and it’s recorded more or less live in an unlicensed drinking establishment which shall remain nameless.
Two Recruiting Sergeants
Traditional, Scotland, 1770-1815
For it’s over the mountain and over the main
Through Gibralta to France and Spain
It’s a feather to your bonnet, a kilt upon your knee
So list bonny laddie and come awa’ wi’ me
Now, twa recruting sergeants came frae the black watch
Through markets and fairs some recruits for to catch
But all that they listed was forty and twa
So list bonny laddie and come awa’ wi’ me
Now, laddie, you canna know the danger that you’re in
If your horses was to fly and your house was to ruin
This greedy, old farmer will na’ pay your fee
So list bonny laddie and come awa’ wi’ me
For its out by the barn and in by the fire
This old farmer thinks he’ll never tire
It’s a slavery job of lowly degree
So list bonny laddie and come awa’ wi’ me
Now, laddie, if you have a sweetheart in the barn
You’ll easy be rid of her ill-spun yarn
Twa rattles on the drum and that will pay it all
So list bonny laddie and come awa’ wi’ me
