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Music, Drums for the Virginia Regiment

March 10, 2018 @ 2:16 pm – 3:16 pm

Did the Virginia Blues join singing the Grenadiers’ March 9am July 9 1755 when crossing the Monongahela?

See quote:
By about 930am [July 9, 1755] Gage was leading the advanced guard across the Monongahela’s second ford opposite the mouth of Turtle Creek. The fatigue brought on by early rising and road-building would be offset by the exhilaration of the river crossings, which the men did to the triumphant strains of the “Grenadiers March.” end quote.

Page 220 in the paperback version, Braddock’s Defeat by David Preston​

Thanks to Tony Elar Jr.​ for providing The our group – Virginia Regiment George Mercer’s Company — the REDCOATS CD.

Some talk of Alexander, and some of Hercules
Of Hector and Lysander, and such great names as these
But of all the world’s great heroes
There’s none that can compare
With a tow, row row row , row row row
To the British Grenadiers

None of these ancient heroes ne’er saw a cannon ball
Nor knew the force of powder to slay their foes with all
But our brave boys do know it and banish all their fears
Sing tow, row row row , row row row
For the British Grenadiers

When e’er we are commanded to storm the palisades
Our leaders march with fuses, and we with hand grenades;
We throw them from the glacis about the enemies’ ears
Sing tow, row row row , row row row
For the British Grenadiers

And when the siege is over, we to the town repair
The townsmen cry ‘Hurrah, boys, here comes a Grenadier’
Here come the Grenadiers, my boys, who know no doubts or fears
Sing tow, row row row , row row row
For the British Grenadiers

So let us fill a bumper, and drink a health to those
Who carry caps and pouches, and wear the louped clouthes
May they and their commanders live happy all their years
Sing tow, row row row , row row row
For the British Grenadiers

See the VA Regiment sing this song at their stay at Sky Meadows State Park March 5, 2018






first posted on Friends of Fort Loudoun Facebook page

February 17 at 10:05pm ·


I’m lonesome since I crossed the hill
and over moor and valley,
Such grievous thoughts my heart do fill
Since parting with my Sally
I seek no more the fine or gay
for each does but remind me
how swift the hours did pass away
with the girl i left behind me
Oh never shall I forget that night
the stars were bright above me
and gently lent their silvery light
when first she vowed to love me
But now I’m off to Brighton Camp
Kind Heaven, then, pray guide me
and send me safely back again
to the girl i left behind me

Brighton Camp


The Gentleman’s Magazine Sept 1793


Brighton Camp is familiar to a great many people as one or another popular song, both in the British Isles and North America but particularly as the military song The Girl I Left Behind Me. The title of the tune Brighton Camp (and no doubt the tune itself) seems to date quite specifically from 1758—to the dismay of Fuld, if he were still alive—and refers to one of nine short-lived military defence camps set up along England’s south coast during the Seven Years War of 1756-1763 (see: Winstock 1970, p. 67-68). In Morris Dancing Brighton Camp is usually a handkerchief dance.

As The Girl I Left Behind Me in O’Neill Waifs & Strays (1922), 36 (no. 52). G, 2/4. Anglo-Irish title, The Spalpeen Fanach. O’Neill’s set is elaborate, with variations by Jeremiah Breen, a famous blind fiddler of North Kerry.

In spite of that 1758 date and Wm. Chappell’s comments in Popular Music of the Olden Time (708 ff.), no 18th-century copy of text or tune has yet been located. A song “The girls we love so dearly”, p. 69 of The New Whim of the Night, 1799, calls for the tune, and I have not found the title earlier. There is a text of about 1805 among the 100 issues of the Charms of Melody, Dublin, c. 1795 -1811, but there is no Brighton Camp in this.

The translation of the Irish Spaílpín Fánac is “The Rambling Labourer”, under which title it is in O’Neill Music of Ireland (1903), 52 (# 299), giving alternate titles The Girl (etc.), I Love my Love in the Morning, As Slow our Ship (from Thomas Moore’s song). Other words: “The Wicklow Rangers”.

The song “The Girl I left behind me” (begins “I’m lonesome since I cross’d the hills”) is in Chappell and other places. Another set (begins “The route has come, we march away”), by A. P. Graves, in his Irish Song Book (1895), 68. 3×8 lines.

Brighton Camp

In the early 18th century Brighton had not
expanded its defences beyond the late 16thcentury
blockhouse. Eventually, the blockhouse
was undermined by the sea, partly collapsed in
1748 and was ruinous in 1773.123 With the
advent of the Seven Years’ War (1756-63) a
replacement was required, and a new brick-built
battery opposite the lower end of East Street
was one of seven built along the Sussex coast in
1759.124 Within twenty years the guns were in a
poor state and this battery too collapsed into the
sea in 1786. The greater threat of the French
Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars (1793-
1815), saw an urgent need for renewed defence
and this was provided in 1793 by the East
Battery (opposite the lower end of Madeira
Place) and the West Battery (immediately in
front of the, later, Grand Hotel). Again, erosion
was to play its part, with the East Battery defunct
by 1807 and largely gone by 1809.125 At the
peak of danger after the temporary respite of the
Peace of Amiens (1802-3) and before naval
victory at the Battle of Trafalgar (1806), Brighton
had 45 lightly armed vessels manned by local
seafaring volunteers (sea fencibles).126
Barracks were a feature of the county during the
French Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars,
housing thousands of soldiers when coastal
invasion was most feared. Many of these were
temporary structures quickly dismantled or sold
off when the threat of invasion diminished. In
addition to small-scale temporary barracks,
Brighton had two main barracks: the Church
Street barracks (built in the 1790s and
demolished 1869: marked by Barrack Place, to
the rear of Marlborough Place) and Preston
Barracks, 1.6km north-east of the town at that
time, on the Lewes road. Preston Barracks was
built in 1796, rebuilt as a permanent barracks in
1800, and partly survives (in rebuilt form) as a
Territorial Army centre.
page 27 and 28 of link

Over the next few decades, though, events severely affected its local and national standing, such that by 1730 “it was a forlorn town decidedly down on its luck”. More foreign attacks, storms (especially the devastating Great Storm of 1703), a declining fishing industry, and the emergence of nearby Shoreham as a significant port caused its economy to suffer.[27] By 1708 other parishes in Sussex were charged rates to alleviate poverty in Brighton, and Daniel Defoe wrote that the expected £8,000 cost of providing sea defences was “more than the whole town was worth”. The population declined to 2,000 in the early 18th century.[19]

From the 1730s, Brighton entered its second phase of development—one which brought a rapid improvement in its fortunes. The contemporary fad for drinking and bathing in seawater as a purported cure for illnesses was enthusiastically encouraged by Dr Richard Russell from nearby Lewes. He sent many patients to “take the cure” in the sea at Brighton, published a popular treatise[note 1] on the subject, and moved to the town soon afterwards (the Royal Albion, one of Brighton’s early hotels, occupies the site of his house).[29] Others were already visiting the town for recreational purposes before Russell became famous, and his actions coincided with other developments which made Brighton more attractive to visitors. From the 1760s it was a boarding point for boats travelling to France; road transport to London was improved[30] when the main road via Crawley was turnpiked in 1770;[31] and spas and indoor baths were opened by other entrepreneurial physicians such as Sake Dean Mahomed and Anthony Relhan (who also wrote the town’s first guidebook).[30]

Photochrom of Brighton aquarium, 1890–1900
From 1780, development of the Georgian terraces had started, and the fishing village developed as the fashionable resort of Brighton. Growth of the town was further encouraged by the patronage of the Prince Regent (later King George IV) after his first visit in 1783.[32] He spent much of his leisure time in the town and constructed the Royal Pavilion during the early part of his Regency. In this period the modern form of the name Brighton came into common use.[33]

A permanent military presence was established in the city with the completion of Preston Barracks in 1793. http://www.mybrightonandhove.org.uk/page_id__6198.aspx
overall article above

7 references to Brighton in the link below
Prisoners of war in Britain, 1756 to 1815; a record of their lives, their romance and their sufferings … Author …. Abell, Francis

About 1747 Dr. Richard Russell came to Brighton to exploit his new theories as to the medical properties of sea-water. He was probably the son of Nathaniel Russell, who bought Ranscomb Manor in South Malling near Lewes, and obtained his doctorate in 1724 at the University of Leyden. (fn. 69) He does not seem to have held the licence of the London College of Physicians to practice in England, (fn. 70) but his Latin treatise, published in 1750 and translated into English in 1752, on the treatment of glands by means of sea-water was well known both in Europe and in England. (fn. 71) Dr. Addington, the alienist whom the Prince of Wales called in to attend George III in 1788, was a warm admirer of Dr. Russell, in spite of his opposition to doctors not holding English degrees practising here. (fn. 72) The advantages of sea-bathing had long been recommended in England, but Dr. Russell also prescribed the drinking of sea-water and more especially of Brighton sea-water. The chalybeate spring, known as St. Anne’s Well, which rose in the Upwick estate just to the west of the parish boundary, was also recommended by him to his patients. To what extent local Sussex inhabitants had previously come to bathe at Brighton is doubtful. Probably Dr. William Clarke, who bathed each morning during the fine weather of his visit in 1737, but left the place as soon as the weather became stormy, (fn. 73) was a rare example. Dr. Russell benefited from his practice sufficiently to build himself a large house on the Steine. (fn. 74) Still the visitors had not by 1756 greatly enriched the town. That winter there was a corn famine arousing the fear of incendiarism by a crowd of poor starving country people. At the close of Dr. Russell’s career, for he died in 1759, (fn. 75) Sir Edward Wilson, in a letter to a Yorkshire correspondent, could visited the libraries. Thomas was the fashionable bookseller in 1779, where visitors went to enter their names, and there was also Widget ‘the milliner and librarywoman’. (fn. 76) For the more active, there was hunting and horse-racing, while the militia camp, which a scare of war with France in 1784 had brought to the town, added to the gaiety of the visitors. (fn. 77) These attractions brought all sections of fashionable society, literary, political, and sporting, to Brighton. It brought the Thrales, who had family connexions with the town, for old Mr. Scrase, ‘Daddy Crisp’, who had bought a moiety of the manor of Brighton-Lewes (q.v.) and lived at the so-called Manor House on the Steine, had been a friend of Mr. Thrale’s father. (fn. 78) They had a house in West Street, where Dr. Johnson and Fanny Burney came to stay. He went hunting and bathed and even went with them to the assembly rooms, but he was a difficult and cantankerous guest, who quarrelled with the lesser literary lights, such as Dr. Delap and Mr. Pepys, the London surgeon, who came for the bathing season. Fanny Burney amused herself with endless conversation at home, at the libraries, at the assembly rooms, where she avidly marked the general recognition of herself as the famous authoress. She bathed, walked on the Downs to see the hounds, and joked with the militia officers, who messed at the Old Ship. She was indeed the complete Brightonian visitor. (fn. 79)

Brighton: the Steine and Royal Pavilion, 1806

The first changes in this society were beginning during Fanny Burney’s visits. In 1779 the Duke of Cumberland, George III’s brother, took Dr. Russell’s house and became a regular visitor to the town. In the summer of 1783 the young Prince of Wales came to visit him and enjoyed his visit so much that he came again the next year, and Brighton is now inevitably connected with his name and extravagances.

On his first visit, the Prince of Wales was greeted by a royal salute from the guns of the battery; he walked about the Steine with his uncle, went to the theatre, and was fêted by the town. He was young and handsome and endeared himself to the townspeople, with whom he remained unbrokenly popular throughout his life. The next year he came again and settled in a house which stood on the Steine and belonged to Thomas Kemp, M.P. for Lewes and the largest landowner in Brighton. He sent his famous cook, Weltje, to make the arrangement and the lease stood in Weltje’s name, until the prince bought the house in 1800. Many years afterwards, Samuel Rogers described it as ‘a respectable farm-house’. (fn. 80) This summer the prince went to the Brighton races and entertained Philippe Egalité, then still known as the Duc de Chartres, as well as other French visitors staying at Brighton. Driving was one of the chief amusements of the time. Light carriages were becoming the fashion with the improved roads and the prince joined in the craze for horsemanship. His ‘tutor’ was young Sir John Lade, who made a curious link between the Pavilion and the literary visitors, for he was the nephew of Mr. Thrale. The following year, the prince brought the architect, Henry Holland, to carry out necessary alterations to his house, which became known indifferently as the Marine Pavilion or the Royal Palace. In the meantime, he had secretly married Mrs. FitzHerbert and a house was taken for her close to the Pavilion. They became regular summer visitors to Brighton, where he escaped from the difficulties of political life in London. Politicians might come to Brighton; Pitt and Fox were both there at the same time in 1784; but the prince amused himself, abetting the fashion for practical jokes, in which Lord Barrymore and his two brothers later became the ringleaders. If the wild doings of the prince in their company or that of Sheridan and less famous companions, such as Lade and Major Hanger, have been over-emphasized, (fn. 81) it must not be forgotten that Brighton continued to attract every one of importance whether from rank or personal attainments. A simpler family life also went on among the visitors.

Another element came into Brighton society with the outbreak of the French Revolution. The first emigrés came in the Brighton packet boats, bringing with them the money gained from the sale of their French estates; but gradually, during the time of the Terror, they came in all kinds of disguises, secretly in the fishing-boats, and penniless. (fn. 82) The outbreak of war with the French Republic in 1793 renewed the scare of invasion and the camp at Brighton was one of the largest of those established for the defence of the south coast. (fn. 83) The prince took part in many reviews, and the crack regiments encamped there were very different from the militia regiments described by Fanny Burney.

¶By 1794, the influence of Lady Jersey, and the financial crisis with which the Prince of Wales was faced, led to his marriage with Princess Caroline of Brunswick and in 1795 they came to spend the summer in Brighton, which was especially gay in their honour. He finally left the princess in 1799 and the next year he returned to Mrs. Fitzherbert, who always considered herself to be his legal wife by the law of her church, if not by the law of England. They returned to Brighton in 1801 and the prince began enlarging the Pavilion, although it was not till 1811, when he

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