The White Rose Pretender

 

It was the 30th of December

And the snow lay on the ground

Around the Yorkist stronghold

On Sandal Castle’s mound

When Richard, Duke of York

Was awoken by his hound

Baying for Lancastrian blood

Wherever it could be found

 

The Red Rose army at Pontefract Castle

Had been pillaging Richard’s estates

So he had marched north to Wakefield

To secure the white rose gates

But the numbers he brought were far too few

And his actions were tempting the fates

And the reinforcements he needed

Were sure to be arriving too late

 

Betrayals and blunders were rife

As they advanced over Wakefield Green

The Plantagenets forces were encircled

From the woods and shrubberies between

The Calder and Manygates Lane

Where the Yorkists had been seen

Foraging for provisions

Which over the winter months had been mean

 

Unhorsed and wounded to the knee

At four willow trees he was killed

Thousands more died on that day

Falls Ings marking where blood was spilled

But the dreams of poor Richard of York

Would be forever unfulfilled

His head was taken over to York

And his voice was forever stilled

 

So the song was sung in his name

The grand old Duke had ten thousand men

The Grand Old Duke Of York he had ten thousand men

And he marched them up to the top of the hill

And he marched them up to the top of the hill

And he marched them down again

And he marched them down again

The meaning is lost in the passing of time

And when they were up they were up

Of the pure blood ambition and pain

And when they were down they were down

A nursery rhyme for the children

And when they were only halfway up

And now that is all that remains

They were neither up nor down

 

And now that is all that remains