Jacques Chrétien --- Gordon R. Dickson / ttto: Roddy McCorley

Gordon R. Dickson actually wrote a tune for this song, but fans started singing it to "Roddy McCorley" and it worked so well that Gordy actually said it was a better tune than his for the song. Rest in peace Gordy.

 

They [G]little knew of brotherhood, the [C]faith of fighting [G]men,
Who once to prove their [C]lie was [G]good, hanged Colonel [C]Jacques Chré-[D]tien.
One-[G]fourth of Rochmont’s [C]fighting [G]strength, one batallion of Dor-[D]sai,
Was [G]sent by Rochmont forth alone -- to [C]bleed Helmuth and [G]die. 

But [G]look, look down from Rochmont’s heights, up-[C]on the Helmuth [G]plain,
At all of Helmuth’s [C]armored [G]force – by Dorsai [C]checked or [D]slain.
Look [G]down, look down on [C]Rochmont’s [G]shame -- to hide the wrong she’d [D]done,
Made [G]claim that Helmuth bribed Dorsai; no [C]battle had been [G]won. 

To [G]prove that lie, the Rochmont Lords ar-[C]rested Jacques Chré-[G]tien,
On charge he dealt with [C]Helmuth’s [G]chiefs for payment [C]to his [D]men.
Com-[G]mandant Arp Van [C]Din sent [G]word, “You may not judge Dor-[D]sai.
Re-[G]turn our Colonel by the dawn or [C]Rochmont town shall [G]die!” 

Strong-[G]held behind her wall Rochmont, [C]scorned to answer [G]them;
Condemned and at the [C]daybreak [G]hanged young Colonel [C]Jacques Chré-[D]tien.
Bright, [G]bright the Sun that [C]morning [G]rose upon each weaponed [D]wall.
But [G]when the Sun set in the West, those [C]walls were leveled [G]all. 

Then [G]soft and white the Moon arose on [C]streets and roofs un-[G]stained.
But when that Moon was [C]down once [G]more no street or [C]roof re-[D]mained.
No [G]more is there a [C]Rochmont [G]town, no more are Rochmont’s [D]men.
But [G]stands a Dorsai monument to [C]Colonel Jacques Chré-[G]tien. 

So [G]pass the word from world to world: A-[C]lone still stands Dor-[G]sai.
And while she lives no [C]one of [G]hers by foreign [C]wrong shall [D]die.
They [G]little knew of [C]brother-[G]hood, the faith of fighting [D]men,
Who [G]once to prove their lie was good, hanged [C]Colonel Jacques Chré-[G]tien.

 

Back to songs index