MacCaddock, Scourge of the Irish

Gen’rally, as pirates go

There’s something that you ought to know

If you’re looking for some friendly sands,

Don’t winter down at Ireland


There’s a Scottish Scourge, by name MacCaddock 

By choice he carries a heavy mattock

But a special dirk he hides in his kilt,

So as you can hardly see the hilt


There’s a certain day each Irish autumn

When the temperatures hit stone-cold bottom

And that’s the day MacCaddock chose

To punk a ship called the “Spanish Rose”


The “Spanish Rose” panned heavy gold

So MacCaddock went straight to the hold

And off he lifted the Spanish crates

Calling out to his Scottish mates


“Lads, we’ve struck a happy deal

There’s chance we’ve found the season’s weal!”

With that he torched both bow and stern

And watched the “Spanish Rose” sink and burn


The only news of the Spanish Rose

Came and went as MacCaddock chose

But nobody battled the motley crew

So MacCaddock prospered, his wealth grew


Not a day after the winter passed

MacCaddock’s crew was again at the mast

The merchants had gone as quick as they could

But not as fast as perhaps they should


He caught almost a dozen ships that day

Not a nautical mile from out the bay

MacCaddock was smart, and when his ship was full

He sent the lifeboats full to shore


And so for the better of two score years

T’was MacCaddock the Irish merchants feared

For these forty years he ruthlessly killed

Every man and mate, skirl and child


Power he had, and mercy he had not,

The Scottish bastard they called MacCaddock

But nobody changed their cargo or guard

So the robbing continued ‘til ships became shards


MacCaddock knew he was closing his years

In his prime, no captain has mutiny fears

But it was not mutiny that felled him

It was in the green blood of an Irishman


O’Duman the greybeard grew sick of the seas

Years back, but MacCaddock his ears had reached

So he heard, and he had great reason to help

Besides, MacCaddock was only a Scottish whelp


O’Duman, we know, had a wife and a lass

Along with, once, a seaman’s cutlass

He strapped it on with a round buckler shield

Determined to make MacCaddock yield


For if you recall what MacCaddock did to his lass

You’d have let O’Duman unhindered pass

He went with his wits, but more his wrath

It did not take long to find MacCaddock’s path


You remember, O’Duman was once under MacCaddock

Indeed, O’Duman was the one wreaking most havoc

In the first ten years of MacCaddock’s scourge

Among the Irish, ‘twas O’Duman the traitor at large


O’Duman trekked days to the secret harbor

At an inn on the way he heard the local barber

Speak in great fear of the Scotsman MacCaddock

And O’Duman hear mention of the famed steel mattock


So the Scottish imp had strength still in his arm!

Still O’Duman meant to do him harm

So leaving without having stayed an hour

He hurried along with renewed power


Six days and a night O’Duman had run

And at morning his road was nearly done

For MacCaddock’s ship sat still in the bay

And O’Duman knew that today was his day


Thirty years, a score and ten had

Gone by since O’Duman and MacCaddock were lads

And now, at the age of fifty-eight

O’Duman was ready to bring fatal berate


MacCaddock had three years on O’Duman

And was twenty-one when he captained the crewmen

Now his years numbered sixty-and-one

But it was at thirty his doom had begun


Upon seeing the ship, O’Duman made fast

And ascended the crow’s nest atop the mast

Not a moment too soon, for not far away

MacCaddock’s crew was approaching the bay


O’Duman went down and rent the sails

So that if they put out, they’d stick and fail

And after this short task was complete

He went behind the wheel to wait on his feet


Alas! For thirty years on land were upset

O’Duman’s sea legs had to find him yet

But too late! For MacCaddock had entered the deck

With a howl of rage at the sail’s slashed wreck


The sun was up, and to O’Duman’s back

But still he seemed his sea legs to lack

MacCaddock, however had legs well steeled

And when the ship bucked about, he no longer reeled


When MacCaddock’s eyes had fit the light

He saw O’Duman ready to fight

His rapier drawn and hungry for meat

Was waving around, and not for his feet


MacCaddock stared, and then he sneered

Recalling O’Duman’s face from years

Though a greybeard covered the elderly chin

The accent and threat could not be mistaken


“The scene is badly as you, MacCaddock!

Have your mates hand you your heavy mattock

And steel your soul, I’ll tell you why

Here and now you’re going to die!”


O’Duman spoke no more but went to the deck

Now he had MacCaddock in check

He’d not dare back down in front of his crew

Or he’d lose them all, and the ship too


So he called out “Bring the mattock”

And thus poised the Scottish pirate MacCaddock

O’Duman shifted his shield to the front

And prepared for the battering of MacCaddock’s blunt


Power he lost, still mercy he had not

The Scottish bastard they called MacCaddock

His blunt was significantly hard to swing

Whereas O’Duman’s sword was easy to fling


But the shield was sundered and splintered

Like a dry ship that was too long wintered

O’Duman’s left arm was broke at a swing from MacCaddock

And so one-armed he desperately fought the mattock


But not fretting, O’Duman aimed well

And chopped off four fingers, easy to tell

Now MacCaddock had but a left thumb and right hand

To defeat a furious Irishman


O’Duman recalled the cruelty of the mattock

And no mercy did he give MacCaddock

But nor did MacCaddock ask for any

MacCaddock took death with the courage of many


But before O’Duman delivered the fatal strike

MacCaddock stabbed him through the heart, and like

The last stroke of his hidden dirk,

O’Duman stabbed him, and fell with him to the murk


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