The Pursuit of Farmer Michael Hayes

A fascinating and rather dark depiction of a man being hunted like a fox. An interesting example of a political song borrowing the form and content of a hunting song.

 

I am a bold and undaunted fox that never was before in tramp.
My rent, rates and taxes I was willing for to pay;
I lived as happy as King Saul and loved my neighbours great and small,
I had no animosity for either friend or foe.

I made my den in prime good land between Tipp’rary and Knocklong,
Where my forefathers lived for three hundred years or more.
But now of late I was betrayed by one that was a fool and knave,
He told me I should quit the place and show my face no more.

But as soon as he ejected me I thought ‘twas time that I should flee,
I stole away his ducks and geese and murdered all his drakes.
I knew I could no longer stand because he had the hounds at hand;
I tightened up my garters and then I was away.

But soon there was a great look-out by land and sea to find me out,
From Dublin Quay to Belfast Town, along the raging sea.
By telegraph they did insert this great reward for my arrest,
My figure, size and form, and my name without a doubt.

They wore their brogues, a thousand pair, this great reward for to obtain,
But still there was no tidings of me or my retreat.
They searched Tipp’rary o’er and o’er, the corn fields round Galtymore,
Then they went on to Wexford but there did not delay.

Through Ballyhale and Stranmore they searched the woods as they went on,
Until they got very hungry at the approach of day.
Now search the world far and near, the likes before you did not hear,
A fox to get away so clear as I did from the hounds.

They searched the rocks, the gulfs, the bays, the ships and liners at the quays,
The ferry-boats and steamers as they were going to sea.
Around the coast they took a steer from Poolbeg lighthouse to Cape Clear,
Killarney Town and sweet Tralee, and then crossed into Clare.

And when they landed on the shore they searched Kilrush from top to toe,
The bathing baths in Miltown, called otherwise Malbay.
And Galway being a place of fame they though it there I would remain,
But still their journey was in vain for I gave them leg-bail.

They searched the train in Oranmore as she was leaving for Athlone,
And every wagon, coach and cart that went along the road.
And Connemara being remote they thought it there I would resort,
They when they got weary they resolved to try Mayo.

In Ballinrobe they had to rest until the hounds were quite refreshed,
From thence they went to Westport and searched it high and low.
Through Castlebar they took a trot, they heard I was in Castlerock,
But still they were deluded, there I lodged the night before.

At Swinford’s town as I sat down I heard a dreadful cry of hounds,
I took another notion to retaliate the chase.
And I being weary from the road, I took a glass at half past four,
Then I was renovated while the hounds were getting weak.

The night being dark in Castlebar I knew not how to make my way,
I had neither den nor manger for to shield me from the cold.
But when the moon began to shine I said I’d make for a foreign clime,
I am in the Land of Liberty, and three cheers for Michael Hayes!