Chapter XXXI: Ballad, and Jacobite Literature of Scotland

WHEN attempting to reach an exhaustive explanation of the causes and influences which have contributed to the development of the mind and character of a nation, everything which has affected their civilisation, and especially whatever has been mainly produced by the people themselves, demands the careful attention of the historian. It is admitted on all hands that the ballad literature and national songs of Scotland are of this character. For centuries these compositions have exercised an influence on the feelings and sentiments of the people. The songs associated with the national music, and with the popular tunes and dances, are essential elements of the national life, and have long been a source of real enjoyment to the people. But the field of Scottish ballad and song is wide and varied, and cannot be treated in minute detail here, my aim being to ascertain and indicate the bearing of this class of writings on the life of the nation. And yet if one must try as far as possible to escape the error of forming imperfect and unjust estimates of the national character, it is necessary to look at this branch of literature, as it contains real evidence of the states of feeling, of the opinions, and of the manners of the people.

Some account of the origin, the progress, and the value of our ballad literature was given in the eleventh chapter of this work, and its influence upon the Reformation was noticed in the thirteenth and in the twenty-first chapters;¹ in the present chapter the exposition is continued till past the midde of the eighteenth century, and thus includes the Jacobite ballads as well as compositions of a satirical turn, and the popular songs of the people, beginning with those of a historical and satirical description, and closing with the popular or lyric songs.

¹ Mackintosh’s _History of Civilisation in Scotland_, Volume
I., pages 441‒451, _seq._; Volume II., pages 22‒24, 331‒340,
_et seq._

The disturbed state of the nation from the death of James VI. to the Union, was unpropitious to literary culture of any kind. Yet the opinions and the sentiments of the contending parties occasionally sought vent in rude ballads and rhymed compositions. There are ballads on the Covenanting armies and battles, and on some of the events of the long struggle from the Restoration to the Revolution, after which the distinctive Scotch Jacobite ballads and satires begin. The greater part of the Jacobite ballads are rather rude and coarse in phraseology, but they gave expression to the feelings and sentiments of one of the parties in the struggle; indeed, the Jacobite ballads and songs embodied a kind of creed of the party, and, historically, they are valuable.

It was reported that Argyle was the first who raised fire in the Civil War, by burning the house of Airlie, in June, 1639, thus originating the ballad “The Bonnie House of Airlie.” It was long popular, and there are several versions of it extant. Argyle being intent on the destruction of the house, was represented as working with his own hands in “knocking down the doorposts and the headstone of Airlie.” The ballad opens thus:――

“It fell on a day, and a bonnie summer day,
When the corn grew green and yellow,
That there fell out a great dispute
Between Argyle and Airlie.
The Earl o’ Montrose has written to Argyle,
To come in the morning early,
An’ lead his men by the back o’ Dunkeld,
To plunder the bonnie house o’ Airlie.
The lady looked o’er her window sae hie,
And oh, but she looked weary,
And there she espied the great Argyle,
Come to plunder the bonnie house o’ Airlie.
‘Come down, come down, Lady Margaret,’ he says,
‘Come down and kiss me fairly,
Or before the morning clear day-light,
I’ll not leave a standing stane in Airlie.’”¹

¹ Another version contains a pointed reference to a blemish
in Argyle’s eyes, and has two additional verses. It is
conjectured by Maidment “that the grim chief of the Campbells
had been a rejected suitor, and that the lady treated by him
in so base a manner preferred the Loyalist lover of Airlie
to the Covenanting lord of Lochow.”――Maidment’s _Scottish
Ballads_, Volume I., pages 272‒274.

The lady replied that she would not submit, even though he should carry out his threat.

The short satirical ballad, called “Leslie’s March to Long-Marston Moor,” is curious, and contains a few hits at the prevailing feeling of the Covenanters:――

“Stand till it, and fight like men,
True gospel to maintain;
The parliament’s blyth to see us a’ coming.
When to the Kirk we come,
We’ll purge it each room
From popish relics and a’ such innovation,
That the world may see,
There’s none in the right but we,
O’ the sons of the auld Scottish nation;
And the kist fu’ o’ whistles, that mak sic a cleiro,
Our pipers brave shall have them a’,
Whate’er comes o’ it.”¹

¹ _Ibid._, Volume I., page 293.

The aversion of the Presbyterians to the organ in churches was emphatic; and they were also very sure of the truth of their own opinions, and determined to maintain them.

The battle of Philiphaugh was fought on the 13th of September, 1645, when Montrose was completely defeated by a portion of the Covenanting army, under the command of David Leslie. This battle terminated the short and brilliant career of Montrose. The ballad gives an account of the battle from the Covenanters’ standpoint, and expressed their feeling of exultation:――

“Sir David from the borders came,
Wi’ heart and hand came he,
Wi’ him three thousand bonny Scots,
To bear him company.”

After describing the movements of the army and the battle pretty accurately, the ballad concludes with these words:――

“Now let us a’ for Leslie pray,
And his brave company,
For they have vanquished great Montrose,
Our cruel enemy.”

Montrose escaped from the field; but five years afterwards he fell into the hands of his enemies, and perished upon the scaffold. From time to time various writers have attempted to make him a hero, and a contemporary ballad, entitled “The Gallant Grahams,” contains a lamentation over his final discomfiture and cruel end. This ballad enumerates the deeds of the Grahams at some length, and gives particulars of the military achievements of Montrose, and of several of his companions in arms who fought for the royal cause; and concludes with the following lines on the last exploit of Montrose:――

“Montrose again, that chieftain bold,
Back into Scotland fair he came,
For to redeem fair Scotland’s land,
The pleasant, gallant, worthy Graham.
At the water of Carron he did begin,
And fought the battle to the end;
And there were killed for our noble King
Two thousand of our Danish men.¹

* * * * *

“Then woe to Strachan and Hacket both,
And, Lesly, ill death may thou die,
For ye have betrayed the gallant Grahams,
Who aye were true to Majesty.
And the Laird of Assaint has seized Montrose,
And led him into Edinburgh town,
And frae his body taken the head,
And quartered him upon a trone.

“And Huntly’s gone the self-same way,
And our noble King is also gone;
He suffered death for our nation,
Our mourning tears can ne’er be done.
But our brave young King is now come home,
King Charles the Second in degree;
The Lord send peace into his time,
And God preserve his Majesty.”²

¹ “The Danish men” were Montrose’s foreign auxiliaries, but in
all they did not exceed six hundred men.

² Scott’s _Minstrelsy_, Volume II., pages 187‒194. At the
present time, John Skelton, writing on the death of Montrose,
says, among other and very fine touches:――“When at length his
doom was read to him in the crowded house, he lifted up his
face without any word speaking.” He lifted up his face! A
grand speech――eloquent in its solemn simplicity. A silent
protest――a silent appeal. Was it with him as with an old
martyr?

“And looking upward, full of grace,
He prayed, and from a happy place,
God’s glory smote him on the face.”

The opposing parties in religion and in politics often assailed each other in satirical rhymes, in pasquils, and in lampoons, which were printed on broadsheets and circulated through the country. But this class of composition generally was extremely coarse and profane, and hardly fit for publication in the present day. On both sides they could scarcely find language abusive and vulgar enough in which to describe, traduce, and stigmatise each other; nevertheless, without entering into long details on this subject, a few illustrations of it as explicative of the spirit of the times in some of its modes seem requisite. In 1638, a pasquil against the bishops appeared, written in a sort of rhyme, beginning thus, “St. Andrews is an atheist, and Glasgow is a gouke,” and so on touching the rest of the bishops. On the other hand, some of the Episcopal party produced a satire on the General Assembly of 1638――a curious performance consisting of two parts, and opening with the following description of the meeting of the Assembly:――

“From Glasgow Raid to which made meeting,
Huge troops from all quarters came fleeting,
With dags and guns in form of war,
All loyal subjects to debar;
Where bishops might not show their faces,
And mushroom elders filled their places;
From such mad pranks of Catharus,
Almighty God, deliver us.”¹

¹ _A Book of Scottish Pasquils_, edited by Mr. Maidment, page
29, 1868.

The Assembly and its leading members were caricatured at length, and sometimes with effect, but with extreme coarseness and vulgarity. Henderson, the moderator of the Assembly, was called a pope, and some of the covenanting nobles were severely dealt with, and also the small gentry: “From beggars, beggar-makers, from all bold and blood undertakers, from hungry calepoles, knighted loons, from perfumed puppies and baboons, from caterpillars, mothes and rats, horse-letches, state blood-sucking brats,” the writer prayed to be delivered from all such. Another lampoon, called “The New Litany,” assailed the Covenanters in a similar strain. The author prayed that he might be preserved from all the actions of the party then contending against the King:――

“From the long prayers of devote sisters,
From master madcaps’ rotten glisters,
From sermons made to blow the fire,
From bishops that betray the cause,
And advocates that write the laws;
From the table, nay tables three,
Of lords, barons, and ministry――
From their decrees and all new glosses,
And from all conspiracy and treason.

* * * * *

“From pupil, pastor, tutor, flock,
From gutter Jennie, pulpit Jock,
From covenanting tage and rage,
From horsruber, scudler, scold, and hage,
From tinker, treulerd, slouene, and sluit,
Dick, Jack, and Tom, long-tail and coitt,
Drunkard, thief, and whore――infamous
rascals by the score.”¹

¹ _Ibid._, pages 53, 57.

In England the Long Parliament got its share of buffets from the wits of the time; and as the Covenanters became associated with the Long Parliament, the following notice of this famous assembly may be given here:――

“It’s full of questions and commands,
It’s armed with muskets and pikes; it fears
Naught in the world but cavaliers;
It was born in England, but begot
Between the English and the Scot;
Though some are of opinion rather,
That the devil was its father.”

Another contemporary rhyme on the Long Parliament has a slight touch of grim humour in it:――

“O God preserve the parliament,
And grant it long to reign,
From three years’ unto three years’ end,
And then to three again.
That neither king, nor bishop lord,
So long as they are alive,
Have power to rebuke their souls,
Or hurt the members five.
For they be good and godly men,
No wicked paths they tread;
For they are pulling bishops down,
And setting up Roundhead.
For holy Burton, Baswick, Pryme,
Lord keep them in Thy bosom;
Keep him who did keep out the King,
Worshipful Sir John Hotham.
Pull down the King and Hartsford both,
And keep them down for ay;
But set Thy chosen Pym on high,
And eik my good lord Say.
For Warwick we entreat the Lord,
Be Thou his strong defence;
For Bedford, Hollis, Fairfax, Brooke,
And also his Excellence.
Bliss once again Thy parliament,
And let them sit secure,
And may their consultations,
From aye to aye endure.
Let all the people say Amen,
Then let us praises sing,
To God and to the parliament,
And all that hate the King.”

The Rising of 1666, which was terminated by the engagement of the Pentland Hills, where the Royal army defeated the Covenanters, is commemorated in the ballad entitled “The Battle of Pentland Hills.” The Covenanters having been dispersed, the ballad is interesting as an expression of the feeling of their opponents:――

“Between Dumfries and Argyle,
The lads they marched many a mile;
Souters and tailors unto them drew,
Their Covenants for to renew.
The Whigs they wi’ their merry cracks,
Gar’d the poor pedlars lay down their packs;
But aye sinsyne they do repent,
The renewing o’ their Covenant.

* * * * *

“General Dalziel held to the hill,
Asked at them what was their will,
And who gave them this protestation,
To rise in arms against the nation?
‘Lay down your arms in the king’s name,
And ye shall a’ gae safely hame;’
But they a’ cried out, wi’ ae consent,
‘We’ll fight for a broken Covenant.’
‘O weel,’ says he, ‘since it is so,
A wilful man never wanted woe.’
He then gave a sign unto his lads,
And they drew up in three brigades.
The trumpets blew, and the colours flew,
And every man to his armour drew;
The Whigs were never so much aghast,
And to see their saddles toom sae fast.
The cleverest men stood in the van,
The Whigs they took their heels and ran;
But such a raking was never seen,
As the raking of the Rullion Green.”¹

¹ Scott’s _Minstrelsy_, Volume II., pages 203‒205.

As we have seen, the oppressed people again rebelled in 1679, and in June they defeated a party of the Royal army under Captain Graham, at Drumclog. In the ballad on the engagement it is called “The Battle of Loudon Hill.” The Covenanters were led by Robert Hamilton and John Balfour of Kinloch, the latter, commonly called Burly, a vehement and determined man. Graham was represented as ordering an attack upon the westland men, while his officers attempted to dissuade him from it on the ground that it would be courting certain defeat:――

“There is not one of yon men,
But who is worthy other three;
There is not one among them a’
That in his cause will stap to die.
As for Burly, him I know,
He’s a man of honour, truth, and fame;
Gie him a sword into his hand,
He’ll fight thyself, and other three.

* * * * *

“Then up he drew in battle rank,
I wat he had a bonnie train,
But the first time that bullets flew,
Ay he lost twenty o’ his men.
Then back he came the way he gaed,
I wat right soon and suddenly,
He gave command among his men,
And sent them back, and bade them flee.
Then up came Burly, bauld and stout,
Wi’s little train o’ westland men,
Who more than either once or twice,
In Edinburgh confined had been.
They had been up to Loudon sent,
An’ yet they’ve a’ come safely down,
Six troop o’ horsemen they have beat,
And chased them into Glasgow town.”¹

¹ _Ibid._, Volume II., pages 222‒225.

There is a ballad on the Battle of Bothwell Bridge, where the Covenanters were defeated in 1679. Though none of these ballads on the Civil War have much merit, they are comparatively free from coarseness, and occasionally touches of feeling occur in them. The ballad on Bothwell Bridge concludes thus:――

“Alang the brae, beyond the brig,
Many brave men lies cauld and still;
But lang we’ll mind, and sair we’ll rue,
The bloody fight of Bothwell Hill.”

The ballad on this battle is printed in most of the collections of ballads and songs; and there is another contemporary one, beginning “Ye are welcome Whigs from Bothwell Bridge.” Hogg composed a modern ballad on the battle of Bothwell Bridge, from which I quote the following verse:――

“When rank oppression rends the heart,
And rules wi’ stroke o’ death,
Wha wadna spend their dear heart’s blood,
For the tenets of their faith.”

In the satirical rhymes and lampoons from the Restoration to the Revolution there is ample evidence of the dissolute life of the ruling party; but the far greater part of these compositions are unsuitable for quotation. There is a vehement and violent satire on the Stair family, and the famous lawyer himself is made the object of much bitter abuse. His crooked neck is constantly alluded to; while his wife had the reputation of being a witch. The apparent inconsistencies and shortcomings in the career of the great President of the Session, and of his eminent son, were mercilessly exposed and held up to scorn; and their changes of front in politics were sharply brought out, with damaging effect.¹

¹ _Book of Scottish Pasquils_, pages 179‒190.

A dispute, already noticed, arose between the Court of Session and the bar, touching the question whether a party aggrieved by a sentence of this court might lawfully appeal to the parliament of Scotland. Many of the advocates maintained the affirmative, which greatly offended the lords and the government, and they were dismissed from their places, and forbidden to reside in Edinburgh, being treated as malcontents, because they had disagreed with the lords, and ventured to defend law and justice. But after a short time, many of them yielded, acknowledging the error of their ways, and professed repentance. The lords, however, did not long enjoy their victory, as shortly afterwards parliament began to entertain appeals, though not with the aim of checking the corruption of the judges, but because some of the chief members of the Estates desired to have a share of the good things which were agoing, and thus to be enabled to assist the fortunes of their friends. In the satirical squibs on this matter, the President of the Session received much attention; and the verses to the advocates who stayed behind contain the following lines:――

“Even so, of advocates you’re but the Rump,
That noble faculty’s turn’d to a stump;
And so Dundonald does you much commend,
Because you are the faculty’s wrong end.
But since a Rumple president does sit,
That rumps at bar should domineer was fit;

Yet where the tail is thus in the head’s place,
No doubt the body has a sh――――en face.

Thus, thus, some men reform our laws and gown,
As tailors do, by turning upside down.”

The following lines refer to the president’s threats against the malcontent advocates:――

“The president with his head on one side,
He swears that for treason we all shall be tried.

* * * * *

The president bids us repent of our sin,
And swears we’ll be forfeit if we don’t come in:
We answer him all, we care not a pin.”¹

¹ _Book of Scottish Pasquils_, pages 216, 218‒221.

At this period there were persons in Scotland called peats or pats, whose function was to extract as much as could be got from the pockets of clients, “whether rich or poor, for the purpose of perverting justice.” On this there is a curious contemporary rhyme entitled, “Robert Cook’s Petition against the Peats,” addressed to the Lords of Session, which begins thus:――

“The humble petition of Master Robert Cook,
Having spent all his money in following his book,
Now humbly does show to the Lords of the seat,
That he is likely to starve unless made a peat.
Yet first he must know whose peat he must be,
The president’s he cannot, because he has three,
And for my lord Hatton,¹ his son now Sir John,
By all is declared to be peattie patron.”

¹ Mr. Charles Maitland.

And so on the rhyme proceeded, naming the different lords, and showing that they all employed peats; and that John Hay of Murray, by virtue of his daughter, had a peatry which yielded thousands annually; that Lord Newbyth had hitherto run halves with the peats, but having found that they were all cheats, he resolved that his own son, William Baird, should be peat of the house as well as heir; that Lord Newton was always ready to take whatever men would give, and when he was peat to himself, avoided all the danger of sharing the half. After hearing the petition, the bench remitted it to Lord Castlehill,¹ who, after duly considering it, declared that the peats were grievous to the nation, as by some inspiration they pled without speaking, and consulted without writing.²

¹ Sir John Lockhart.

² _Book of Scottish Pasquils_, pages 224‒227.

Without attaching much importance to writings of this description, we know from various sources of information that instances of disgraceful judicial delinquency were then common in Scotland.

A satirical rhyme on the government of the Duke of Lauderdale, and his wife, called “A Litany,” was written about 1671. There are several other satires on his wife, under the name of Bessie; and it is stated that she swayed both Church and State. “She plots with her tail, and her lord with his pate――with a head on one side, and a hand lifted high――she kills us with frowning, and makes us to die――the nobles and barons, boroughs and clownes――she threatened at home even the principal towns――but now she usurps both the sceptre and crown――and thinks to destroy us with a flap of her gown.”¹

¹ The following lines are from the “Litany”:――

“From this huffing Hector,ᵃ and his queen of love,
From all his blank letters from above,
From a parliamentary council that does rage and rave,
From an archbishopᵇ graft on a presbyterian stock,
From the declaration built on a covenant dock,
From opposite oathsᶜ that would make a man chock.”

ᵃ Duke of Lauderdale. ᵇ Sharpe. ᶜ The Test.

The Revolution and the events flowing from it called forth many satirical ballads and rhymes, especially from the party who adhered to the banished dynasty. It is from this date that Jacobitism assumed the form of a political creed, and became a distinctive name of a party in the State. This party, in manifesting their opinion and feeling in favour of the exiled family, endeavoured by all means to depreciate the Revolution settlement, and the whole course of subsequent proceedings, by satirising and abusing all who adhered to the new order of affairs. Many of the Jacobite ballads and songs are rude and coarse, but some of them are very humorous, and occasionally pathetic. They afford important elements for the history of the period from the Revolution to the Rising of 1745; and at that time they supplied to many of the people the chief political and literary food within their reach.

Here it may be stated that satire is and always has been a powerful weapon when properly wielded; but none of the Jacobite ballads or rhymes have attained to high rank as really genuine and effective satires. Indeed, though they are not often deficient in the elements of contempt and scorn of a kind, they seldom or never rise to the height of vigorous sarcasm; they never hit on the strain of that seething and stinging roll of sarcasm which smites its victims right and left, till they fall helpless under its piercing force. The Jacobite ballads have more of the comic and the ludicrous elements, of homely but effective forms of humour and wit, which together constitute their main characteristics.

The ballad entitled “The Coronation Song,” 1689, is a comic and ridiculous description of King William and Queen Mary. It is full of rough humour, and excessively coarse in phraseology. William is represented as descended from the orange tree, but it was hoped that he will soon descend from a tree of another class――the gallows. His personal appearance was minutely described: “he had the head of a goose, and the legs of a crane,” and rode in Hyde Park like a hog in armour, and in Whitehall carped like a country farmer. He had not stood to his declaration, but had completely cheated the nation. Cromwell only smelt at the crown through the rump; but, though there were three who had better claims than Orange, yet he with a jump ventured his neck to place himself upon the throne. Some of the verses are extremely profane and vulgar, and the song concludes with this wish:――

“Then may the confusion that hither has brought us
Always attend them, until it has wrought us,
To bring back King James, as loyalty taught us――
Our gracious King again,
Our gracious King again.”

After the Revolution, the Presbyterians were assailed in popular rhymes by the party who adhered to the banished royal family, and the Duke of Hamilton and the Union formed ample topics for satirical rhymes and lampoons. The Duke of Hamilton was chosen president of the Revolution convention, which declared the throne vacant; and directly after he was appointed royal commissioner. He has been represented as a proud, impatient, and overbearing man; he died in 1694. He was severely handled in a rhyme called “The Presbyterians’ Address,” beginning thus:――

“Welcome, great Duke, with all the joy that’s due,
To the blest union of our friends and you;
The Lord has done it, is all that we can say;
But first to reverence, and next to pray.
Not free of fears, we beg in the first place,
For grace of perseverance to your grace;
For when with holy zeal we think upon,
The old malignant house of Hamilton,
Who our reforming course at first withstood,
At Langside bathed themselves and us in blood,
While the next heir the nation made consent
To the five articles in parliament.”

The story proceeded to mention other heads of the house and their fate; and then stated that his grace had taken Bradshaw for his patron, and, as the latter had judged the father, the former had forfeited the son, but advises him to proceed:――

“Go on, great Duke, your hand is at the plough,
For looking back’s both sin and follow now;
Let Crawford,¹ Cardross,² Melvin, you advise,
Let Polwart³ flourish out the enterprise;
Here and hereafter both the malignants damn,
Down o’er their throats the new allegiance cram,
First fill the prisons till they’ll hold no more,
Then let the scaffolds, reeking with their gore,
Be the gam’d theatres that shall express,
Your pious princely zeal to be no less,
Than old Argyle, when he the maxim prov’d,
That it was safer to be fear’d than lov’d.
Thus we take leave, and all with one consent
Does rest your grace’s servants in the Lord.”⁴

¹ The Earl of Crawford.

² Lord Cardross, a warm supporter of the Covenant.

³ Sir Patrick Home, afterwards Earl of Marchmont.

⁴ _A Book of Scottish Pasquils_, pages 255‒257. The severest
attack of this class on the Presbyterians was the one
entitled “The Western Presbyterian’s Address to the Prince
of Orange.”

The Scotch Jacobites satirised King William from time to time till the end of his reign, under the names of Willie Winkie, Willie Wanbeard, and Willie the Wage. But none of these pieces have much merit, their humour being homely and often coarse. The Jacobites were most bitterly opposed to the Union, and exerted themselves to the utmost to prevent it from being brought to a successful issue. The Parliament of 1704 was attacked and denounced in a rhyme beginning thus:――

“Our parliament is met on a hellish design,
’Gainst God and the true heir knaves do combine,
To play the game over of old forty-nine,
But unless they repent they’ll be d――――d.”

It proceeded to traduce and condemn all who in any way assisted in changing the succession of the throne, and vehemently caricatured many of the Scotch nobles, satirising them in the rudest strain. Indeed, this is one of the most outrageous and scurrilous compositions of the period. Johnston, the secretary, a son of Lord Warriston’s, was described in the following terms:――

“Thou, Johnston, thou spawn of a villain and traitor,
A varlet by birth, education, and nature.
Old Scotland’s base cut-throat, and false England’s creature.
For which sin on and be d――――d.”¹

¹ _Ibid._, pages 379‒384.

The most of the nobles who adhered to the Government were handled in a similar style.

Contemporary rhymes and ballads on the Union Parliament, and on the Union itself, were numerous, and most of them emanated from the Jacobite party. But they are all marked by the characteristics which have already been sufficiently illustrated, and very few of them have assumed a popular and purified form, or lived into the present age.

But many of the Jacobite songs written between the accession of the House of Hanover and the middle of the eighteenth century, were, and still are, exceedingly popular. The satirical songs on George I. and the members of his family are generally humorous and homely, such as the well-known song of “The Riding Mare,” “The Wee, Wee German Lairdie,” “The Sow’s Tail to Geordie,” and others of a similar character, all so full of derision and contempt that they became national favourites――the fact of their being usually sung to old and popular airs greatly enhancing their merit in the estimation of the populace. The immorality of the courts of the Georges afforded ample scope for coarse satire; and Lady Darlington, one of the mistresses of George I., who figures under the name of the “Sow,” was a constant theme for lampoon and satire. In person she was excessively large and corpulent.¹

¹ The air of the song, “The Sow’s Tail to Geordie,” has always
been highly popular, and has been rendered from time to time
with innumerable variations.

The Whigs were another subject for Jacobite invective and biting song. While the conflict of the two parties raged, and the result of the struggle was still uncertain, the arts of ridicule, depreciation, and jeering scorn, were more effective for stirring the passions of the people than elevated appeals to patriotism and the better sentiments of the mind. Hence it was not until the cause of Jacobitism was seen to be lost past all hope of recovery, that the best and most pathetic of their songs appeared,――it is only then that their songs begin to manifest the touching strains and the ennobling glow of genuine poetry.

The song entitled “Awa’, Whigs, Awa’,” was long popular, though more on account of the beauty of its air than of the merit of the song itself. Another one entitled, “What’s the matter with the Whigs?” was written in the early part of the reign of George I., and opens with these lines:――

“O what’s the matter with the Whigs,
I think they’re all gone mad, sir,
By dancing one and forty jigs,
Our dancing may be dad, sir.

* * * * *

“Did you not swear, in Anna’s reign,
And vow too, and protest, sir,
If Hanover were once come o’er,
Then we should all be blest, sir?

* * * * *

“And was there ever such a King
As our brave German prince, sir?
Our wealth supplies him everything
Save what he wants――good sense, sir.
Our jails with British subjects crammed,
Our scaffolds reek with blood, sir,
And all but Whigs and Dutch are damn’d
By the fanatic crowd, sir.”

The Jacobite song entitled, “The Wind has Blawn my Plaidie Awa’,” which is sung to the popular air “O’er the Hills and Far Awa’,” was very popular, and has appeared in various forms. The Whigs too had their songs, some of which were a sort of parody on the Jacobite ones; while the English also had many Jacobite songs and rhymes. The popular song beginning “From Caledonia’s loyal lands, where justice uncontrolled commands,” had its counterpart in a song used by the Whigs of the Revolution Club, in Edinburgh. It was sung to the tune of “O’er the Hills and Far Awa’,” and opened with the following lines:――

“From barren Caledonian lands,
Where rapine uncontrolled commands,
The rebel clans in search of prey,
Came o’er the hills and far away.
Regardless whether right or wrong,
For booty, not for fame, they fight;
Banditti-like, they kill, they slay,
They plunder, rob, and run away.

* * * * *

“With them a vain pretender came,
And perjured traitors, dupes to Rome,
Resolved all, without delay,
To conquer, die, or run away.
Our sons of war, with martial frame,
Shall bravely merit lasting fame;
Great George shall Britain’s sceptre sway,
And chase rebellion far away. Amen.”¹

¹ _English Jacobite Ballads_, edited by the Rev. A. B. Grosart,
pages 176‒177.

From the Revolution to the suppression of the last Rising, rhymes, ballads, and songs were the common outcome of the rhymers of the street, the alehouse, the club, and the festive board, or it might be of the farm-house, or the cot among the valleys and hills. It was a time when men of strong passions and feelings, rude humour, homely and coarse wit, could express themselves in language intelligible to all ranks of the nation. The Jacobites always eagerly endeavoured to gain the ear and enlist the favour of the people. Accordingly they were constantly appealing to the lighter emotions, the selfish feelings, and the passions, under the guise of a mass of rough and vulgar humour, and coarse satire, thrown at the new dynasty, and at the Whigs――the alleged authors of the ruin and all the woes of the nation.

But after the Battle of Culloden, a higher strain was struck. The bitterness of the sense of defeat, of suffering, of sorrow, and lamentation, filled the souls of the Jacobites, and inspired them with a mournful and yet noble resolution to yield to their fate, and to make the best of the changed circumstances. Having referred in a preceding chapter to the sentiments expressed after Culloden, it is only necessary to give one or two illustrations in concluding this brief account of the Jacobite songs and ballads.

The following lines are from the ballad called “The Lament of Old Duncan Skene of the Clan Donochie:”――¹

“Thy foes they were many, and ruthless their wrath,
Thy glens they defaced with ravage and death,
Thy children were hunted and slain on the heath,
And the best of thy sons are no more.”

¹ Mackay’s _Jacobite Songs and Ballads_, page 247.

The song entitled “The Highlander’s Farewell,” is exceedingly pathetic. It was composed in Gaelic, and the following quotation is from an English translation:――

“O where shall I gae seek my bread?
O where shall I gae wander?
O where shall I gae hide my head?
For here I’ll bide nae langer.
The seas may row, the winds may blow,
And swath me round in danger,
My native land I must forego,
And roam a lonely stranger.
The glen that was my father’s own,
Must be by his forsaken;
The house that was my father’s home,
Is levell’d with the bracken.
Ochon, ochon, our glory’s o’er,
Stolen by a mean deceiver,
Our hands are on the broad claymore,
But the might is broke forever.
Farewell, farewell, dear Caledon,
Land of the Gael no longer,
A stranger fills thy ancient throne,
In guilt and treachery stronger.
Thy brave and just fall in the dust,
On ruin’s brink they quiver;
Heaven’s pitying e’e is clos’d on thee,
Adieu, adieu, for ever!”¹

¹ Mackay’s _Jacobite Songs and Ballads_, pages 251‒252. In
passing from the subject. I may mention that Mr. Robert
Malcolm edited a collection of Jacobite songs and ballads,
published at Glasgow in 1829; while Hogg’s _Jacobite Relics_,
first and second series, are well worth careful perusal.

For all this the Highlanders soon betook themselves to other forms of energy, and as already mentioned, they have done good service to the empire since the collapse of their memorable and last Rising in Britain.

The Lowland Scottish ballad literature embraces a wide and rich field, ranging over and engrossing almost every element of poetry, save the purely religious. The songs and ballads, of course, present all degrees of merit and variety, of love and pathos, of keen feelings, of wild passions, and of glowing emotions; but only a few examples may be presented here, as every reader can easily go himself to the fountain-head. Perhaps the ballad called “The Lament of the Border Widow,” is among the most touching of the pathetic class. It has been supposed to relate to the execution of Cockburn of Henderland, who was hanged over the gate of his own tower, by the order of the King, in 1529. In its present form it was obtained from recitation, and printed in Scott’s Minstrelsy:――

“My love he built me a bonnie bower,
And clad it a’ wi’ lilye flouer,
A brawer bower ye ne’er did see,
Than my true love he built for me.
There came a man, by middle day,
He spied his sport, and went away,
And brought the King that very night,
Who brake my bower, and slew my knight.
He slew my knight, to me sae dear;
He slew my knight, and poin’d his gear;
My servants all for life did flee,
And left me in extremitie.
I sew’d his sheet, making my mane,
I watched the corpse, myself alane,
I watched his body, night and day;
No living creature came that way.
I took his body on my back,
And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sat;
I digg’d a grave, and laid him in,
And happ’d him with the sod sae green.
But think na ye my heart was sair,
When I laid the moul’ on his yellow hair;
O think na ye my heart was wae,
When I turned about away to gae.
Na living man I’ll love again,
Since that my lovely knight is slain.
Wi’ a lock of his yellow hair,
I’ll chain my heart for ever mair.”

The simple and natural pathos of these lines is inimitable, and at once touches the heart.

There are not only pathos, genuine feeling and fire in many of the national songs, but also in some of them good sense and shrewd judgment of the world. A song by the author of “Tullochgorum,” the Rev. John Skinner, presents in a brief compass a kind of philosophy of life. It is entitled, “John o’ Badenyon,” and I tempted to quote it:――

“When first I came to be a man of twenty years or so,
I thought myself a handsome youth, and fain the world would
know.
In best attire I stept about, with spirits brisk and gay:
And here, and there, and everywhere was like a morn in May.
No care I had, no fear of want, but rambled up and down,
And for a beau I might have passed in country or in town;
I still was pleased where’er I went, and when I was alone,
I tuned my pipe, and pleased myself wi’ John o’ Badenyon.
Now in the days of youthful prime, a mistress I must find,
For love, they say, gives one an air, and even improves the
mind:
On Phillis fair, above the rest, kind fortune fixed mine eyes,
Her piercing beauty struck my heart, and she became my choice.
To Cupid now, with hearty prayer, I offered many a vow,
And danced, and sang, and sigh’d, and swore, as other lovers
do:
But when at last I breathed my flame, I found her cold as
stone――
I left the girl, and tuned my pipe to John o’ Badenyon.
When love had thus my heart beguiled with foolish hopes and
vain,
To friendship’s port I steer’d my course, and laugh’d at
lover’s pain.
A friend I got by lucky chance――’twas something like divine;
An honest friend’s a precious gift, and such a gift was mine.
And now, whatever may betide, a happy man was I,
In my strait I knew to whom I freely might apply.
A strait soon came, my friend I tried, he laugh’d and spurn’d
my moan;
I hied me home, and tuned my pipe to John o’ Badenyon.
I thought I should be wiser next, and would a patriot turn,
Began to doat on Johnnie Wilkes, and cry’d up parson Horne;
Their noble spirits I admired, and praised their noble zeal,
Who had with flaming tongue and pen maintained the public weal.
But ere a month or two had passed, I found myself betrayed;
’Twas self and party, after all, for all the stir they made.
At last I saw these factious knaves insult the very throne,
I cursed them all, and tuned my pipe to John o’ Badenyon.
What next to do I mused a while, still hoping to succeed;
I pitched on books for company, and gravely tried to read:
I bought and borrowed everywhere, and studied night and day,
Nor miss’d what dean or doctor wrote, that happened in my way.
Philosophy I now esteemed the ornament of youth,
And carefully, through many a page, I hunted after truth:
A thousand various schemes I tried, and yet was pleased with
none,
I threw them by, and tuned my pipe to John o’ Badenyon.
And now ye youngsters everywhere, who wish to make a show,
Take heed in time, nor vainly hope for happiness below;
What you may fancy pleasure here, is but an empty name;
And girls, and friends, and books also, you’ll find them all
the same.
Then be advised, and warning take from such a man as me;
I am neither pope, nor cardinal, nor one of high degree;
You’ll meet displeasure everywhere; then do as I have done――
Even tune your pipe and please yourself with John o’ Badenyon.”

There are some points which I might illustrate in greater detail; but, as already stated, a lengthy account of this branch of literature does not seem necessary. Besides, in a work of this character, some proportion must be observed in treating the various subjects which properly comes within its range, and suggestion and stimulation may be legitimately used where space for criticism cannot be afforded. An appropriate conclusion to this chapter will be found in the following lines by the late John Imlach, entitled “Auld Scotia’s Songs,” and prefixed to Whitelaw’s Book of Scottish Song:――

“Auld Scotia’s Songs, Auld Scotia’s Songs,――the strains o’ youth
and yore,
O lilt to me, and I will list――will list them o’er and o’er,
Though mak’ me wae, or mak’ me wud, or changefu’ as a child,
Yet lilt to me, and I will list――the native woodnotes wild.
They mak’ me present wi’ the past――they bring up fresh and fair,
The Bonnie Broom o’ Cowden Knowes, the Bush aboon Traquair;
The Dowie Dens o’ Yarrow, or the Birks o’ Invermay,
Or Catrine’s green and yellow woods in autumn’s dawning day.
Now melt we o’er the lay that wails for Flodden’s day o’ dule:
And now some rant will gar us loup like daffin’ youth at Yule――
Now o’er youth’s love’s impassion’d strain our conscious heart
will yearn――
And now our blude fires at the call o’ Bruce o’ Bannockburn.

* * * * *

“O born o’ feeling’s warmest depths――o’ fancy’s wildest dreams,
They’re twined wi’ monie lovely thoughts, wi’ monie lo’esome
themes;
They gar the glass o’ memory glint back wi’ brichter shine,
On far-off scenes, and far-off friends――and Auld Lang Syne.
Auld Scotia’s Songs, Auld Scotia’s Songs――the native woodnotes
wild,
Her monie artless melodies, that move me like a child;
Sing on, sing on, and I will list, will list them o’er and
o’er――
Auld Scotia’s Songs, Auld Scotia’s Songs, the songs o’ youth
and yore.”