The Ballad of Big Henry Sproule
The story we were told was that Henry had
been in a serious fight with another man in Clady, and because of this, he had
left Tyrone and went to live in Dublin. The fight was famous in the neighbourhood,
even giving rise to a song, ‘The Ballad of Big Henry Sproule’. I hunted for this ballad for a long time without success. Thanks to a kind lady who saw this blog, I now
have the elusive ballad, and the story of the infamous uncle who was known here by the
more familiar, ‘Big Harry Sproule’.
Bye the way, there was a view in the family that Henry had actually killed his opponent, though my father said that this was not true. If it was true, can I apologise to the nice lady who showed me the ballad, as she is a relative of Mr McKinney!
Bye the way, there was a view in the family that Henry had actually killed his opponent, though my father said that this was not true. If it was true, can I apologise to the nice lady who showed me the ballad, as she is a relative of Mr McKinney!
The Sproule & McKinney Fight by Johnny Burns
It was on a
winter’s night somewhere on Clady street
That two of
Ireland’s champions in a great contest did meet
These Irishmen
were drinking for some time at the bar
When after some
hot argument they agreed to have a spar
McKinney went
out like a policeman on patrol
To decide the
fate of him so great, I mean Big Harry Sproule
Harry he went
out with one great tiger spring
For Irishmen
were always first and foremost in the ring
Before the fight
began Sproule said, "remember John"
"I never
was the man to run when fighting must be done"
"Well",
said John "Now Harry I may now tell you straight
There never came
from Tullymoan a man I couldn't beat"
At this the
battle started and for awhile they fenced
When after some
manoevuring a brutal fight commenced
McKinney he went
rushing in and tried a left hand clinch
But Harry stood
determined not staggering half an inch
Harry somewhat
lost his head and putting out his foot
He landed in
poor McKinney a brutal uppercut
McKinney he fell
senseless upon the frozen ground
And the look on
Sproule did terrify the lads who stood around
Harry fought so
quickly he did his hands control
I thought it was
Jack Johnston and not big Harry Sproule
Though McKinney
was knocked out he fought with skill and pluck
He was active as
Jim Corbett till the fatal blow was struck
So Irishmen be
careful wherever that you be
Never say you
can fight until you try and see
Always keep your
temper and don't lose self control
For in a simple
contest you might meet a Harry Sproule
Strabane
& West Ulster In The 1800s: History From The Broadsheets: Selections from
The Strabane Morning Post 1812-1837 [Paperback]
Thanks
to Maeve Rogan for finding this ballad.
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