The Betrayal Of Dan Mckay Poem by Francis Duggan

Dan McKay is gone to glory
To the Land of no return
But his name will live forever
In the valley of Glenburn.

In the war of independence
He played more than one man's part
He was known as Dan the rebel,
Rebel with a noble heart.

In the so called Glenburn ambush
All his comrades funked and ran
But McKay he kept on shooting
Numbers did not bother Dan.

On that day Dan was bang on target
He was shooting for to kill
Killed two Tans and wounded two others
In the wood by Glenburn hill.

But the Tans they overpowered him
In the wood at Glenburn vale
And took the rebel as their prisoner
And shipped him off for Brixton jail.

He was sentenced by a biased judge
To be shot by firing squad
And be buried in a jail yard
Under enemy owned sod.

But he avoided execution
By escaping from Brixton's hell
And made his way back home to Ireland
To the vale he loved so well.

Dan McKay had to live wary
As he was now a wanted man
He was marked for execution
By the murderous Black and Tan.

He had come back as a stowaway
In a boat across the sea
And was home in Glenburn valley
On the run and living free.

For information to his capture
The Brits put in their bid,
To the one who would betray him
They would give four hundred quid.

And four hundred quid in those days
Was a considerable sum,
A quick and easy fortune
For a worthless Judas bum.

The Brits got their information
And the reward it was paid
And the traitor felt quite happy
With the easy fortune he had made.

He was betrayed by one he thought to be trustworthy,
One on whom he did depend
But it's when a man's in trouble
That he come to know his friends

The traitor led the British
To where a wooden cabin stood
The hiding place of Dan McKay
In the heart of Glenburn wood.

The hide out of the rebel
The soldiers did surround
And McKay knew he was in a snare
That the Brits were all around.

The commander shouted 'come out with hands raised'
And surrender in the peaceful way
Or we'll blast your hut to pieces
And fill you with lead, McKay.

You go to hell I won't surrender,
Retorted brave Dan Mac,
I'd rather die here in Glenburn
Than let ye take me back.

McKay he came out shooting
From his hideout in the wood
But the British were too many
And he died in his own blood.

That night his neighbours took his body
And beside an elm tree
They sunk a grave for Dan McKay
In Glenburn cemetery

And in the village of Glenburn
A marble memorial stand
To the hero who died fighting
With a rifle in his hand.