Killiecrankie.
I.
[Killiecrankie is a pass in the North Highlands, where, on the 27th July, 1689, a battle was fought between the forces of king William the third, under general Mackay, and the Highland clans who adhered to king James, under viscount Dundee (Graham of Claverhouse.) The Highlanders were victorious, but Claverhouse was slain, and his death prevented them from taking advantage of their victory.]
Clavers and his Highlandmen
Came down upon the raw, man;
Who, being stout, gpve mony a shout;
The lads began to claw, then.
Wi' sword and targe into their hand,
Wi' which they were na slaw, man;
Wi' mony a fearfu' heavy sigh,
The lads began to claw, then.
Ower bush, ower bank, ower ditch, ower stank,
She flang amang them a', man;
The butter-box gat 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 ower their crowns,
The lads began to fa', then.
Her leap'd about, her skipp'd about,
And flang amang them a', man;
The English blades got broken heads,
Their crowns were cleaved in twa, then;
The durk and dour made their last hour,
And proved their final fa', man;
They thocht the devil had been there,
That play'd them sic a pa', man.
The Solemn League and Covenant
Cam' whigging up the hill, man;
Thocht Highland trews durst not refuse
For to subscribe their bill, then:
In Willie's name, they thocht nae ane
Durst stop their course at a', man;
But her-nain-sell, wi' mony a knock,
Cried, Furich, Whigs, awa', man.
Sir Evan Dhu, and his men true,
Cam' linking up the brink, man;
The Hoggan Dutch, they feared such,
They bred a horrid stink, then.
The true Maclean, and his fierce men,
Cam' in amang them a', man;
Nane durst withstand his heavy hand;
A' fled and ran awa', then.
Och on a righ! och on a righ!
Why should she lose king Shames, man?
Och rig in di! och rig in di!
She shall break a' her banes, then;
With furichinich, and stay a while,
And speak a word or twa, man;
She's gi'e ye a straik out ower the neck,
Before ye win awa', then.
Oh, fle for shame, ye're three for ane!
Her-nain-sell's won the day, man.
King Shames' red-coats should be hung up,
Because they ran awa', then.
Had they bent their bows like Highland trews,
And made as lang a stay, man,
They'd saved their king, that saered thing,
And Willie 'd run awa', then.
II.
[This is a fragment of an old song furbished up by Burns for Johnson's Museum.]
Wherr ha'e ye been sae braw, lad?
Where ha'e ye been sae brankie, O?
Where ha'e ye been sae braw, lad?
Cam' ye by Killiecrankie, O?
An ye had been where I ha'e been,
Ye wadna been sae cantie, O,
An ye had seen what I ha'e seen
On the braes o' Killiecrankie, O.
I've faught at land, I've faught at sea;
At hame I faught my auntie, O;
But I met the deevil and Dundee,
On the braes o' Killiecrankie, O!
The bauld Pitcur fell in a fur,
And Claverse gat a clankie, O;
Or I had fed an Athole gled,
On the braes o' Killiecrankie O.