Clavers and his HighlandmenCame down upo' the raw, man,Who being stout, gave mony a clout;The lads began to claw then.With sword and terge into their hand,5Wi which they were nae slaw, man,Wi mony a fearful heavy sigh,The lads began to claw then.O'er bush, o'er bank, o'er ditch, o'er stank,She flang amang them a', man;10The butter-box got mony knocks,Their riggings paid for a' then.They got their paiks, wi sudden straiks,Which to their grief they saw, man:Wi clinkum clankum o'er their crowns,15The lads began to fa' then.Hur skipt about, hur leapt about,And flang amang them a', man;The English blades got broken heads,Their crowns were cleav'd in twa then.20The durk and door made their last hour,And prov'd their final fa', man;They thought the devil had been there,That play'd them sic a paw then.The Solemn League and Covenant25Came whigging up the hills, man;Thought Highland trews durst not refuseFor to subscribe their bills then.In Willie's name, they thought nae aneDurst stop their course at a', man,30Buthur-nane-sell, wi mony a knock,Cry'd, "Furich-Whigs awa'," man.Sir Evan Du, and his men true,Came linking up the brink, man;The Hogan Dutch they feared such,35They bred a horrid stink then.The true Maclean and his fierce menCame in amang them a' man;Nane durst withstand his heavy hand,All fled and ran awa' then.40Oh' on a ri, Oh' on a ri,Why should she lose King Shames, man?Oh' rig in di, Oh' rig in di,She shall break a' her banes then;Withfurichinish, an' stay a while,45And speak a word or twa, man,She's gi' a straike, out o'er the neck,Before ye win awa' then.O fy for shame, ye're three for ane,Hur-nane-sell's won the day, man;50King Shames' red-coats should be hung up,Because they ran awa' then.Had bent their brows, like Highland trows,And made as lang a stay, man,They'd sav'd their king, that sacred thing,55And Willie'd ran awa' then.
Clavers and his HighlandmenCame down upo' the raw, man,Who being stout, gave mony a clout;The lads began to claw then.With sword and terge into their hand,5Wi which they were nae slaw, man,Wi mony a fearful heavy sigh,The lads began to claw then.
O'er bush, o'er bank, o'er ditch, o'er stank,She flang amang them a', man;10The butter-box got mony knocks,Their riggings paid for a' then.They got their paiks, wi sudden straiks,Which to their grief they saw, man:Wi clinkum clankum o'er their crowns,15The lads began to fa' then.
Hur skipt about, hur leapt about,And flang amang them a', man;The English blades got broken heads,Their crowns were cleav'd in twa then.20The durk and door made their last hour,And prov'd their final fa', man;They thought the devil had been there,That play'd them sic a paw then.
The Solemn League and Covenant25Came whigging up the hills, man;Thought Highland trews durst not refuseFor to subscribe their bills then.In Willie's name, they thought nae aneDurst stop their course at a', man,30Buthur-nane-sell, wi mony a knock,Cry'd, "Furich-Whigs awa'," man.
Sir Evan Du, and his men true,Came linking up the brink, man;The Hogan Dutch they feared such,35They bred a horrid stink then.The true Maclean and his fierce menCame in amang them a' man;Nane durst withstand his heavy hand,All fled and ran awa' then.40
Oh' on a ri, Oh' on a ri,Why should she lose King Shames, man?Oh' rig in di, Oh' rig in di,She shall break a' her banes then;Withfurichinish, an' stay a while,45And speak a word or twa, man,She's gi' a straike, out o'er the neck,Before ye win awa' then.
O fy for shame, ye're three for ane,Hur-nane-sell's won the day, man;50King Shames' red-coats should be hung up,Because they ran awa' then.Had bent their brows, like Highland trows,And made as lang a stay, man,They'd sav'd their king, that sacred thing,55And Willie'd ran awa' then.
17. The Highlanders have only one pronoun, and as it happens to resemble the Englishher, it has caused the Lowlanders to have a general impression that they mistake the feminine for the masculine gender. It has even become a sort of nickname for them, as in the present case, and in a subsequent verse, (31,) where it is extended toher-nain-sell.Chambers,Scottish Songs, p. 48.
17. The Highlanders have only one pronoun, and as it happens to resemble the Englishher, it has caused the Lowlanders to have a general impression that they mistake the feminine for the masculine gender. It has even become a sort of nickname for them, as in the present case, and in a subsequent verse, (31,) where it is extended toher-nain-sell.Chambers,Scottish Songs, p. 48.
Fought on the 13th of November, 1715, between the Duke of Argyle, general of the forces of King George the First, and the Earl of Mar, for the Chevalier de St. George. The right wing of both armies, led by the respective commanders, was successful, and the left wing of both was routed. Hence the victory was claimed by both sides. The Chevalier's army was much the larger of the two, and all the advantages of the contest remained with the other party.
This ballad is printed in Herd'sScottish Songs, i. 170, and in many subsequent collections. It is ascribed by Burns to the "Rev. Murdoch M'Lellan, minister of Crathie, Dee-side." Our copy is taken from Hogg'sJacobite Relics, ii. 1, where the stanzas in brackets appear for the first time. The notes are from Chambers'sScottish Songs, p. 408.
There are several other ballads upon this battle:Up and war them a', Willie, Johnson'sMuseum, p. 195, and (different) Herd'sScottish Songs, ii. 234:From Bogie Side, or, The Marquis's Raide, a false and scurrilous party song, Hogg'sJacobite Relics, ii. 13:A Dialogue between Will Lick-Ladle and Tom Clean-Cogue, &c., written by the Rev. John Barclay of Edinburgh, many years after the event: andThe Battle of Sherramoor, altered and abridged by Burns from this last, for Johnson'sMuseum, (p. 290.)See Appendix.
There's some say that we wan, and some say that they wan,And some say that nane wan at a', man;But one thing I'm sure, that at Sherra-muirA battle there was that I saw, man.And we ran, and they ran, and they ran, and we ran,5ButFlorenceran fastest of a', man.Argyle andBelhaven, not frighted like Leven,WhichRothes and Haddingtonsaw, man;For they all, withWightman, advanc'd on the right, man,While others took flight, being raw, man.10And we ran, &c.Lord Roxburghwas there, in order to shareWithDouglas, who stood not in awe, man;Volunteerly to ramble withLord Loudon Campbell,BraveIlaydid suffer for a', man.And we ran, &c.Sir John Schaw, that great knight, with broad sword most bright,15On horseback he briskly did charge, man;A hero that's bold, none could him withhold,He stoutly encounter'd the targemen.And we ran, &c.For the cowardly Whittam, for fear they should cut him,Seeing glittering broad swords with a pa', man,And that in such thrang, made Baird edicang,21And from the brave clans ran awa, man.And we ran, &c.[The great Colonel Dow gade foremost, I trow,When Whittam's dragoons ran awa, man;Except Sandy Baird, and Naughtan the laird,25Their horse shaw'd their heels to them a', man.And we ran, &c.]Brave Mar andPanmurewere firm, I am sure:The latter was kidnapt awa, man;With brisk men about, brave Harry retookHis brother, and laugh'd at them a', man.30And we ran, &c.BraveMarshall, and Lithgow, and Glengary's pith, too,Assisted by braveLoggia, man,And Gordons the bright, so boldly did fight,That the redcoats took flight and awa, man.And we ran, &c.Strathmore and Clanronaldcried still, "Advance, Donald,"35Till both of these heroes did fa', man;For there was such hashing, and broad swords a-clashing,BraveForfarhimsel got a claw, man.And we ran, &c.Lord Perthstood the storm,Seaforthbut lukewarm,Kilsyth, and Strathallannot slaw, man;40AndHamiltonpled the men were not bred,For he had no fancy to fa', man.And we ran, &c.Brave gen'rousSouthesk,Tullibardinwas brisk,Whose father indeed would not draw, man,Into the same yoke, which serv'd for a cloak,45To keep the estate 'twixt them twa, man.And we ran, &c.Lord Rollonot fear'd,Kintoreand his beard,Pitsligo and Ogilvie, a', man,And brothers Balflours they stood the first show'rs,Clackmannan and Burleighdid claw, man.50And we ran, &c.ButCleppanfought pretty, andStrowanthe witty,A poet that pleases us a', man;For mine is but rhyme in respect of what's fine,Or what he is able to draw, man.And we ran &c.ForHuntly and Sinclair, they both play'd the tinkler,55With consciences black as a craw, man;Some Angus and Fife men, they ran for their life, man,And ne'er a Lot's wife there at a', man.And we ran, &c.Then Laurie the traitor, who betray'd his master,His king, and his country, an' a', man,60Pretending Mar might give orders to fight,To the right of the army awa, man.And we ran, &c.Then Laurie, for fear of what he might hear,Took Drummond's best horse, and awa, man:'Stead of going to Perth, he crossed the Firth,65Alongst Stirling bridge, and awa, man.And we ran, &c.To London he press'd, and there he profess'dThat he behav'd best o' them a', man,And so, without strife, got settled for life,A hundred a-year to his fa', man.70And we ran, &c.In Borrowstounness he resides with disgrace,Till his neck stand in need of a thraw, man;And then in a tether he'll swing from a ladder,And go off the stage with a pa', man.And we ran, &c.Rob Roythere stood watch on a hill, for to catchThe booty, for ought that I saw, man;76For he ne'er advanc'd from the place he was stanc'd,Till no more was to do there at a', man.And we ran, &c.So we all took the flight, and Moubray the wright,And Lethem the smith was a braw man,80For he took a fit of the gout, which was wit,By judging it time to withdraw, man.And we ran, &c.And trumpet Maclean, whose breeks were not clean,Through misfortune he happen'd to fa', man;By saving his neck, his trumpet did break,85And came off without music at a', man.And we ran, &c.So there such a race was as ne'er in that place was,And as little chace was at a', man;From each other they run without touk of drum,They did not make use of a paw, man.90And we ran, &c.[Whether we ran, or they ran, or we wan, or they wan,Or if there was winning at a', man,There no man can tell, save our brave genarell,Who first began running of a', man.And we ran, &c.Wi' the Earl o' Seaforth, and theCock o' the North;95But Florence ran fastest of a', man,Save the laird o' Phinaven, who sware to be evenW' any general or peer o' them a', man.]And we ran, &c.
There's some say that we wan, and some say that they wan,And some say that nane wan at a', man;But one thing I'm sure, that at Sherra-muirA battle there was that I saw, man.And we ran, and they ran, and they ran, and we ran,5ButFlorenceran fastest of a', man.
Argyle andBelhaven, not frighted like Leven,WhichRothes and Haddingtonsaw, man;For they all, withWightman, advanc'd on the right, man,While others took flight, being raw, man.10And we ran, &c.
Lord Roxburghwas there, in order to shareWithDouglas, who stood not in awe, man;Volunteerly to ramble withLord Loudon Campbell,BraveIlaydid suffer for a', man.And we ran, &c.
Sir John Schaw, that great knight, with broad sword most bright,15On horseback he briskly did charge, man;A hero that's bold, none could him withhold,He stoutly encounter'd the targemen.And we ran, &c.
For the cowardly Whittam, for fear they should cut him,Seeing glittering broad swords with a pa', man,And that in such thrang, made Baird edicang,21And from the brave clans ran awa, man.And we ran, &c.
[The great Colonel Dow gade foremost, I trow,When Whittam's dragoons ran awa, man;Except Sandy Baird, and Naughtan the laird,25Their horse shaw'd their heels to them a', man.And we ran, &c.]
Brave Mar andPanmurewere firm, I am sure:The latter was kidnapt awa, man;With brisk men about, brave Harry retookHis brother, and laugh'd at them a', man.30And we ran, &c.
BraveMarshall, and Lithgow, and Glengary's pith, too,Assisted by braveLoggia, man,And Gordons the bright, so boldly did fight,That the redcoats took flight and awa, man.And we ran, &c.
Strathmore and Clanronaldcried still, "Advance, Donald,"35Till both of these heroes did fa', man;For there was such hashing, and broad swords a-clashing,BraveForfarhimsel got a claw, man.And we ran, &c.
Lord Perthstood the storm,Seaforthbut lukewarm,Kilsyth, and Strathallannot slaw, man;40AndHamiltonpled the men were not bred,For he had no fancy to fa', man.And we ran, &c.
Brave gen'rousSouthesk,Tullibardinwas brisk,Whose father indeed would not draw, man,Into the same yoke, which serv'd for a cloak,45To keep the estate 'twixt them twa, man.And we ran, &c.
Lord Rollonot fear'd,Kintoreand his beard,Pitsligo and Ogilvie, a', man,And brothers Balflours they stood the first show'rs,Clackmannan and Burleighdid claw, man.50And we ran, &c.
ButCleppanfought pretty, andStrowanthe witty,A poet that pleases us a', man;For mine is but rhyme in respect of what's fine,Or what he is able to draw, man.And we ran &c.
ForHuntly and Sinclair, they both play'd the tinkler,55With consciences black as a craw, man;Some Angus and Fife men, they ran for their life, man,And ne'er a Lot's wife there at a', man.And we ran, &c.
Then Laurie the traitor, who betray'd his master,His king, and his country, an' a', man,60Pretending Mar might give orders to fight,To the right of the army awa, man.And we ran, &c.
Then Laurie, for fear of what he might hear,Took Drummond's best horse, and awa, man:'Stead of going to Perth, he crossed the Firth,65Alongst Stirling bridge, and awa, man.And we ran, &c.
To London he press'd, and there he profess'dThat he behav'd best o' them a', man,And so, without strife, got settled for life,A hundred a-year to his fa', man.70And we ran, &c.
In Borrowstounness he resides with disgrace,Till his neck stand in need of a thraw, man;And then in a tether he'll swing from a ladder,And go off the stage with a pa', man.And we ran, &c.
Rob Roythere stood watch on a hill, for to catchThe booty, for ought that I saw, man;76For he ne'er advanc'd from the place he was stanc'd,Till no more was to do there at a', man.And we ran, &c.
So we all took the flight, and Moubray the wright,And Lethem the smith was a braw man,80For he took a fit of the gout, which was wit,By judging it time to withdraw, man.And we ran, &c.
And trumpet Maclean, whose breeks were not clean,Through misfortune he happen'd to fa', man;By saving his neck, his trumpet did break,85And came off without music at a', man.And we ran, &c.
So there such a race was as ne'er in that place was,And as little chace was at a', man;From each other they run without touk of drum,They did not make use of a paw, man.90And we ran, &c.
[Whether we ran, or they ran, or we wan, or they wan,Or if there was winning at a', man,There no man can tell, save our brave genarell,Who first began running of a', man.And we ran, &c.
Wi' the Earl o' Seaforth, and theCock o' the North;95But Florence ran fastest of a', man,Save the laird o' Phinaven, who sware to be evenW' any general or peer o' them a', man.]And we ran, &c.
6. Florence was the Marquis of Huntly's horse.Hogg.7-10. Lord Belhaven, the Earl of Leven, and the Earls of Rothes and Haddington, who all bore arms as volunteers in the royal army. Major-General Joseph Wightman, who commanded the centre of the royal army.11-14. John, fifth Duke of Roxburgh, a loyal volunteer. Archibald, Duke of Douglas, who commanded a body of his vassals in the royal army. Hugh Campbell, third Earl of Loudoun, of the royal army. The Earl of Ilay, brother to the Duke of Argyle. He came up to the field only a few hours before the battle, and had the misfortune to be wounded.15. Sir John Shaw of Greenock, an officer in the troop of volunteers, noted for his keen Whiggish spirit.17. Major-General Whitham, who commanded the left wing of the King's army.39-42. James, Lord Drummond, eldest son of the Earl of Perth, was Lieutenant-general of horse under Mar, and behaved with great gallantry. William Mackenzie, fifth Earl of Seaforth. The Viscount Kilsyth. The Viscount Strathallan. Lieutenant-general George Hamilton, commanding under the Earl of Mar.27-30. James, Earl of Panmure. The Honourable Harry Maule of Kellie, brother to the foregoing, whom he recaptured after the engagement.31-4. The Earls of Marischal and Linlithgow. The Chief of Glengary. Thomas Drummond of Logie Almond.35-8. The Earl of Strathmore, killed in the battle. The Chief of Clanranald. The Earl of Forfar—on the King's side—wounded in the engagement.43. James, fifth Earl of Southesk. The Marquis of Tullibardine, eldest son of the Duke of Athole.47-50. Lord Rollo. The Earl of Kintore. Lord Pitsligo. Lord Ogilvie, son of the Earl of Airly. Bruce, Laird of Clackmannan—the husband, I believe, of the old lady who knighted Robert Burns with the sword of Bruce, at Clackmannan Tower. Lord Burleigh.51. Major William Clephane. Alexander Robertson of Struan, chief of the Robertsons.55. Alexander, Marquis of Huntly, afterwards Duke of Gordon. The Master of Sinclair.59-74. These four stanzas seem to refer to a circumstance reported at the time; namely, that a person had left the Duke of Argyle's army, and joined the Earl of Mar's, before the battle, intending to act as a spy; and that, being employed by Mar to inform the left wing that the right was victorious, he gave a contrary statement, and, after seeing them retire accordingly, went back again to the royal army.75. The celebrated Rob Roy. This redoubted hero was prevented, by mixed motives, from joining either party. He could not fight against the Earl of Mar, consistent with his conscience, nor could he oppose the Duke of Argyle, without forfeiting the protection of a powerful friend.93. This point is made at the expense of a contradiction. Seev. 27.95-7.The Cock of the Northis an honorary popular title of the Duke of Gordon. Carnegy of Finhaven.
6. Florence was the Marquis of Huntly's horse.Hogg.
7-10. Lord Belhaven, the Earl of Leven, and the Earls of Rothes and Haddington, who all bore arms as volunteers in the royal army. Major-General Joseph Wightman, who commanded the centre of the royal army.
11-14. John, fifth Duke of Roxburgh, a loyal volunteer. Archibald, Duke of Douglas, who commanded a body of his vassals in the royal army. Hugh Campbell, third Earl of Loudoun, of the royal army. The Earl of Ilay, brother to the Duke of Argyle. He came up to the field only a few hours before the battle, and had the misfortune to be wounded.
15. Sir John Shaw of Greenock, an officer in the troop of volunteers, noted for his keen Whiggish spirit.
17. Major-General Whitham, who commanded the left wing of the King's army.
39-42. James, Lord Drummond, eldest son of the Earl of Perth, was Lieutenant-general of horse under Mar, and behaved with great gallantry. William Mackenzie, fifth Earl of Seaforth. The Viscount Kilsyth. The Viscount Strathallan. Lieutenant-general George Hamilton, commanding under the Earl of Mar.
27-30. James, Earl of Panmure. The Honourable Harry Maule of Kellie, brother to the foregoing, whom he recaptured after the engagement.
31-4. The Earls of Marischal and Linlithgow. The Chief of Glengary. Thomas Drummond of Logie Almond.
35-8. The Earl of Strathmore, killed in the battle. The Chief of Clanranald. The Earl of Forfar—on the King's side—wounded in the engagement.
43. James, fifth Earl of Southesk. The Marquis of Tullibardine, eldest son of the Duke of Athole.
47-50. Lord Rollo. The Earl of Kintore. Lord Pitsligo. Lord Ogilvie, son of the Earl of Airly. Bruce, Laird of Clackmannan—the husband, I believe, of the old lady who knighted Robert Burns with the sword of Bruce, at Clackmannan Tower. Lord Burleigh.
51. Major William Clephane. Alexander Robertson of Struan, chief of the Robertsons.
55. Alexander, Marquis of Huntly, afterwards Duke of Gordon. The Master of Sinclair.
59-74. These four stanzas seem to refer to a circumstance reported at the time; namely, that a person had left the Duke of Argyle's army, and joined the Earl of Mar's, before the battle, intending to act as a spy; and that, being employed by Mar to inform the left wing that the right was victorious, he gave a contrary statement, and, after seeing them retire accordingly, went back again to the royal army.
75. The celebrated Rob Roy. This redoubted hero was prevented, by mixed motives, from joining either party. He could not fight against the Earl of Mar, consistent with his conscience, nor could he oppose the Duke of Argyle, without forfeiting the protection of a powerful friend.
93. This point is made at the expense of a contradiction. Seev. 27.
95-7.The Cock of the Northis an honorary popular title of the Duke of Gordon. Carnegy of Finhaven.
James Radcliff, Earl of Derwentwater, fell into the hands of the Whigs at the surrender of Preston, on the very day of the battle of Sheriff-Muir, and suffered death in February, 1716, for his participation in the rebellion. Smollet has described him as an amiable youth,—brave, open, generous, hospitable, and humane. "His fate drew tears from the spectators, and was a great misfortune to the country in which he lived. He gave bread to multitudes of people whom he employed on his estate;—the poor, the widow, and the orphan rejoiced in his bounty." (History of England, quoted by Cromek.) We are told that theaurora borealiswas remarkably vivid on the night of the earl's execution, and that this phenomenon is consequently still known in the north by the name of "Lord Derwentwater's Lights."
Although this ballad is said to have been extremely popular in the North of England for a long time after the event which gave rise to it, no good copy has as yet been recovered. The following was obtained by Motherwell (Minstrelsy, p. 349) from the recitation of an old woman. Another copy, also from recitation but "restored to poetical propriety," is given in theGentleman's Magazine, for June, 1825 (p. 489), andfragments of a third inNotes and Queries, vol. xii. p. 492. Two spurious ballads on the death of Lord Derwentwater have been sometimes received as genuine: one by Allan Cunningham, first published in Cromek'sNithsdale and Galloway Song, p. 129, another (Lord Derwentwater's Goodnight) by Surtees, printed in Hogg'sJacobite Relics, ii. 31. Still another modern imitation isYoung Ratcliffe, in Sheldon'sMinstrelsy of the English Border, p. 401.
There is a ballad on the disgraceful capitulation of Preston in Hogg'sJacobite Relics, ii. 102, also,Northumberland Garland, p. 85, beginning "Mackintosh was a soldier brave."
Our King has wrote a long letter,And sealed it ower with gold;He sent it to my lord Dunwaters,To read it if he could.He has not sent it with a boy,5Nor with any Scots lord;But he's sent it with the noblest knightE'er Scotland could afford.The very first line that my lord did read,He gave a smirkling smile;10Before he had the half of it read,The tears from his eyes did fall."Come saddle to me my horse," he said,"Come saddle to me with speed;For I must away to fair London town,15For to me there was ne'er more need."Out and spoke his lady gay,In childbed where she lay:"I would have you make your will, my lord Dunwaters,Before you go away."20"I leave to you, my eldest son,My houses and my land;I leave to you, my youngest son,Ten thousand pounds in hand."I leave to you, my lady gay, —25You are my wedded wife, —I leave to you, the third of my estate,That'll keep you in a lady's life."They had not rode a mile but one,Till his horse fell owre a stane:30"It's a warning good enough," my lord Dunwaters said,"Alive I'll ne'er come hame."When they came to fair London town,Into the courtiers' hall,The lords and knights of fair London town35Did him a traitor call."A traitor! a traitor!" says my lord,"A traitor! how can that be?An it be nae for the keeping five thousand men,To fight for King Jamie.40"O all you lords and knights in fair London town,Come out and see me die;O all you lords and knights in fair London town,Be kind to my ladie."There's fifty pounds in my right pocket,45Divide it to the poor;There's other fifty in my left pocket,Divide it from door to door."
Our King has wrote a long letter,And sealed it ower with gold;He sent it to my lord Dunwaters,To read it if he could.
He has not sent it with a boy,5Nor with any Scots lord;But he's sent it with the noblest knightE'er Scotland could afford.
The very first line that my lord did read,He gave a smirkling smile;10Before he had the half of it read,The tears from his eyes did fall.
"Come saddle to me my horse," he said,"Come saddle to me with speed;For I must away to fair London town,15For to me there was ne'er more need."
Out and spoke his lady gay,In childbed where she lay:"I would have you make your will, my lord Dunwaters,Before you go away."20
"I leave to you, my eldest son,My houses and my land;I leave to you, my youngest son,Ten thousand pounds in hand.
"I leave to you, my lady gay, —25You are my wedded wife, —I leave to you, the third of my estate,That'll keep you in a lady's life."
They had not rode a mile but one,Till his horse fell owre a stane:30"It's a warning good enough," my lord Dunwaters said,"Alive I'll ne'er come hame."
When they came to fair London town,Into the courtiers' hall,The lords and knights of fair London town35Did him a traitor call.
"A traitor! a traitor!" says my lord,"A traitor! how can that be?An it be nae for the keeping five thousand men,To fight for King Jamie.40
"O all you lords and knights in fair London town,Come out and see me die;O all you lords and knights in fair London town,Be kind to my ladie.
"There's fifty pounds in my right pocket,45Divide it to the poor;There's other fifty in my left pocket,Divide it from door to door."
Herd'sScottish Songs, i. 166: Ritson'sScotish Songs, ii. 76.
This ballad is the work of Adam Skirving, a clever and opulent farmer, father of Archibald Skirving, the portrait painter. It was printed shortly after the battle as a broadside, and next appeared inThe Charmer, vol. ii. p. 349, Edinb. 1751. Neither of those editions contains the eleventh stanza. The foot-notes commonly attached to the subsequent reprints are found inThe Charmer. (Laing in Johnson'sMuseum, iv. 189*.)
To Skirving is also attributed with great probability the excellent satirical song ofJohnnie Cope, orCope are you waking yet. The original words are in Ritson,Scotish Songs, ii. 84: another set at p. 82: a third, with alterations and additions by Burns, in Johnson'sMuseum, p. 242. Allan Cunningham once heard a peasant boast that he could singJohnnie Copewith all itsnineteenvariations. SeeAppendix.
The battle took place on the 22d of September, 1745, between the villages of Tranent and Prestonpans, a few miles from Edinburgh. The king's lieutenant-general, Sir John Cope, was disgracefully defeated by the Highlanders under Charles Edward, and nearly all his army killed or taken. The details of the conflict are vividly described in the 46th and 47th chapters of Waverley.
The Chevalier, being void of fear,Did march up Birsle brae, man,And thro' Tranent, e'er he did stent,As fast as he could gae, man:While General Cope did taunt and mock,5Wi' mony a loud huzza, man;But e'er next morn proclaim'd the cock,We heard another craw, man.The brave Lochiel, as I heard tell,Led Camerons on in clouds, man;10The morning fair, and clear the air,They loos'd with devilish thuds, man.Down guns they threw, and swords they drewAnd soon did chace them aff, man;On Seaton-Crafts they buft their chafts,15And gart them rin like daft, man.The bluff dragoons swore blood and 'oons,They'd make the rebels run, man;And yet they flee when them they see,And winna fire a gun, man:20They turn'd their back, the foot they brake,Such terror seiz'd them a', man;Some wet their cheeks, some fyl'd their breeks,And some for fear did fa', man.The volunteers prick'd up their ears,25And vow gin they were crouse, man;But when the bairns saw't turn to earn'st,They were not worth a louse man.Maist feck gade hame; O fy for shame!They'd better stay'd awa', man,30Than wi' cockade to make parade,And do nae good at a', man.Menteiththe great, when hersell sh—,Un'wares did ding him o'er man;Yet wad nae stand to bear a hand,35But aff fou fast did scour, man;O'er Soutra hill, e'er he stood still,Before he tasted meat, man:Troth he may brag of his swift nag,That bare him aff sae fleet, man.40AndSimpsonkeen, to clear the eenOf rebels far in wrang, man,Did never strive wi' pistols five,But gallop'd with the thrang, man:He turn'd his back, and in a crack45Was cleanly out of sight man;And thought it best; it was nae jestW' Highlanders to fight, man.'Mangst a' the gang nane bade the bangBut twa, and ane was tane, man;50For Campbell rade, butMyriestaid,And sair he paid the kain, man;Fell skelps he got, was war than shot,Frae the sharp-edg'd claymore, man;Frae many a spout came running out55His reeking-het red gore, man.But Gard'ner brave did still behaveLike to a hero bright, man;His courage true, like him were fewThat still despised flight, man;60For king and laws, and country's cause,In honour's bed he lay, man;His life, but not his courage, fled,While he had breath to draw, man.And Major Bowle, that worthy soul,65Was brought down to the ground, man;His horse being shot, it was his lotFor to get mony a wound, man:Lieutenant Smith, of Irish birth,Frae whom he call'd for aid, man,70Being full of dread, lap o'er his head,And wadna be gainsaid, man.He made sic haste, sae spur'd his beast,'Twas little there he saw, man;To Berwick rade, and safely said,75The Scots were rebels a', man.But let that end, for well 'tis kendHis use and wont to lie, man;The Teague is naught, he never faught,When he had room to flee, man.80And Caddell drest, amang the rest,With gun and good claymore, man,On gelding grey he rode that way,With pistols set before, man;The cause was good, he'd spend his blood,85Before that he would yield, man;But the night before, he left the cor,And never fac'd the field, man.But gallant Roger, like a soger,Stood and bravely fought, man;90I'm wae to tell, at last he fell,But mae down wi' him brought, man:At point of death, wi' his last breath,(Some standing round in ring, man,)On's back lying flat, he wav'd his hat,95And cry'd, God save the King, man.Some Highland rogues, like hungry dogs,Neglecting to pursue, man,About they fac'd, and in great hasteUpon the booty flew, man;100And they, as gain for all their pain,Are deck'd wi' spoils of war, man;Fu' bald can tell how hernainsellWas ne'er sae pra before, man.At the thorn-tree, which you may see105Bewest the meadow-mill, man,There mony slain lay on the plain,The clans pursuing still, man.Sick unco' hacks, and deadly whacks,I never saw the like, man;110Lost hands and heads cost them their deads,That fell near Preston-dyke, man.That afternoon, when a was done,I gaed to see the fray, man;But had I wist what after past,115I'd better staid away, man:On Seaton sands, wi' nimble hands,They pick'd my pockets bare, man;But I wish ne'er to drie sick fear,For a' the sum and mair, man.120
The Chevalier, being void of fear,Did march up Birsle brae, man,And thro' Tranent, e'er he did stent,As fast as he could gae, man:While General Cope did taunt and mock,5Wi' mony a loud huzza, man;But e'er next morn proclaim'd the cock,We heard another craw, man.
The brave Lochiel, as I heard tell,Led Camerons on in clouds, man;10The morning fair, and clear the air,They loos'd with devilish thuds, man.Down guns they threw, and swords they drewAnd soon did chace them aff, man;On Seaton-Crafts they buft their chafts,15And gart them rin like daft, man.
The bluff dragoons swore blood and 'oons,They'd make the rebels run, man;And yet they flee when them they see,And winna fire a gun, man:20They turn'd their back, the foot they brake,Such terror seiz'd them a', man;Some wet their cheeks, some fyl'd their breeks,And some for fear did fa', man.
The volunteers prick'd up their ears,25And vow gin they were crouse, man;But when the bairns saw't turn to earn'st,They were not worth a louse man.Maist feck gade hame; O fy for shame!They'd better stay'd awa', man,30Than wi' cockade to make parade,And do nae good at a', man.
Menteiththe great, when hersell sh—,Un'wares did ding him o'er man;Yet wad nae stand to bear a hand,35But aff fou fast did scour, man;O'er Soutra hill, e'er he stood still,Before he tasted meat, man:Troth he may brag of his swift nag,That bare him aff sae fleet, man.40
AndSimpsonkeen, to clear the eenOf rebels far in wrang, man,Did never strive wi' pistols five,But gallop'd with the thrang, man:He turn'd his back, and in a crack45Was cleanly out of sight man;And thought it best; it was nae jestW' Highlanders to fight, man.
'Mangst a' the gang nane bade the bangBut twa, and ane was tane, man;50For Campbell rade, butMyriestaid,And sair he paid the kain, man;Fell skelps he got, was war than shot,Frae the sharp-edg'd claymore, man;Frae many a spout came running out55His reeking-het red gore, man.
But Gard'ner brave did still behaveLike to a hero bright, man;His courage true, like him were fewThat still despised flight, man;60For king and laws, and country's cause,In honour's bed he lay, man;His life, but not his courage, fled,While he had breath to draw, man.
And Major Bowle, that worthy soul,65Was brought down to the ground, man;His horse being shot, it was his lotFor to get mony a wound, man:Lieutenant Smith, of Irish birth,Frae whom he call'd for aid, man,70Being full of dread, lap o'er his head,And wadna be gainsaid, man.
He made sic haste, sae spur'd his beast,'Twas little there he saw, man;To Berwick rade, and safely said,75The Scots were rebels a', man.But let that end, for well 'tis kendHis use and wont to lie, man;The Teague is naught, he never faught,When he had room to flee, man.80
And Caddell drest, amang the rest,With gun and good claymore, man,On gelding grey he rode that way,With pistols set before, man;The cause was good, he'd spend his blood,85Before that he would yield, man;But the night before, he left the cor,And never fac'd the field, man.
But gallant Roger, like a soger,Stood and bravely fought, man;90I'm wae to tell, at last he fell,But mae down wi' him brought, man:At point of death, wi' his last breath,(Some standing round in ring, man,)On's back lying flat, he wav'd his hat,95And cry'd, God save the King, man.
Some Highland rogues, like hungry dogs,Neglecting to pursue, man,About they fac'd, and in great hasteUpon the booty flew, man;100And they, as gain for all their pain,Are deck'd wi' spoils of war, man;Fu' bald can tell how hernainsellWas ne'er sae pra before, man.
At the thorn-tree, which you may see105Bewest the meadow-mill, man,There mony slain lay on the plain,The clans pursuing still, man.Sick unco' hacks, and deadly whacks,I never saw the like, man;110Lost hands and heads cost them their deads,That fell near Preston-dyke, man.
That afternoon, when a was done,I gaed to see the fray, man;But had I wist what after past,115I'd better staid away, man:On Seaton sands, wi' nimble hands,They pick'd my pockets bare, man;But I wish ne'er to drie sick fear,For a' the sum and mair, man.120
33. The minister of Longformacus, a volunteer; who, happening to come, the night before the battle, upon a Highlander easing nature at Preston, threw him over, and carried his gun as a trophy to Cope's camp.41. Another volunteer Presbyterian minister, who said he would convince the rebels of their error by the dint of his pistols; having, for that purpose, two in his pockets, two in his holsters, and one in his belt.51. Mr. Myrie was a student of physic, from Jamaica; he entered as a volunteer in Cope's army, and was miserably mangled by the broad-swords.69. Lieutenant Smith, who left Major Bowle when lying on the field of battle, and unable to move with his wound, was of Irish extraction. It is reported that after the publication of the ballad, he sent Mr. Skirving a challenge to meet him at Haddington, and answer for his conduct in treating him with such opprobrium. "Gang awa back," said Mr. Skirving to the messenger, "and tell Mr. Smith, I have nae leisure to gae to Haddington, but if he likes to come here, I'll tak a look o' him, and if I think I can fecht him, I'll fecht him, and if no—I'll just do as he did at Preston—I'll rin awa'."Stenhouse.
33. The minister of Longformacus, a volunteer; who, happening to come, the night before the battle, upon a Highlander easing nature at Preston, threw him over, and carried his gun as a trophy to Cope's camp.
41. Another volunteer Presbyterian minister, who said he would convince the rebels of their error by the dint of his pistols; having, for that purpose, two in his pockets, two in his holsters, and one in his belt.
51. Mr. Myrie was a student of physic, from Jamaica; he entered as a volunteer in Cope's army, and was miserably mangled by the broad-swords.
69. Lieutenant Smith, who left Major Bowle when lying on the field of battle, and unable to move with his wound, was of Irish extraction. It is reported that after the publication of the ballad, he sent Mr. Skirving a challenge to meet him at Haddington, and answer for his conduct in treating him with such opprobrium. "Gang awa back," said Mr. Skirving to the messenger, "and tell Mr. Smith, I have nae leisure to gae to Haddington, but if he likes to come here, I'll tak a look o' him, and if I think I can fecht him, I'll fecht him, and if no—I'll just do as he did at Preston—I'll rin awa'."Stenhouse.
In the versions of this ballad given in the body of this work, the Earl of Douglas is represented as falling by the hand of Harry Percy. In the ballad which follows, taken from Herd'sScottish Songs, i. 211, his death is ascribed to the revenge of an offended servant. Though there is not the slightest reason to give credence to this story, it has a certain foundation in tradition. Hume of Godscroft writes "there are that say, that he [Douglas] was not slain by the enemy, but by one of his own men, a groom of his chamber, whom he had struck the day before with a truncheon, in ordering of the battle, because he saw him make somewhat slowly to. And they name this man John Bickerton of Luffness, who left a part of his armour behind unfastened, and when he was in the greatest conflict, this servant of his came behind his back, and slew him thereat." Wintown says that the Earl was so intent on marshalling his forces, and so eager to be at the foe, that he neglected to arm himself carefully.—Scott'sMinstrelsy, i. 350.