I must awa and sorrowful be,
I must awa and take leave of thee.
My bonnie wee lass who holds me so near,
I'll soon return to ye, my Bonnie, my dear.
I must awa to Culloden to be sure,
to battle the sassenach or we'll be nay more.
I must awa with musket and bow,
I must awa, awa from me home.
Oh aye, I do ken what awaits me there.
Oh aye, I do ken I'll miss ye rua hair.
With tartan and plaid they'll ken the Mackree
I must awa, mo rún, to fight for thee.
~ In the voice of: Angus Michael James Mackree
The battle of Culloden, 16th April 1746
Categories:
culloden, character, history, imagination,
Form: Rhyme
Tak oor grund from beneath oor hurdies
Burn oor birches aside the lough,
Besmirch hard fecht fur freedom,
Dictating oor days tae come,
No from the pint o a gun,
Fae laws an promises broken.
Lees an lees spout forth like watter
Lives expended as if they dinnae matter,
Feel the Jacobite spirit again,
Ready tae fecht like scotsmen again,
Like warrior poets risen from the glen,
Fae the mists o the past remember,
Oor freedom wis wun sending Edward hame,
Yon wis the past a new war begun noo,
No wi claymores ,targes an guns,
This time its ideals an Eton buffers,
Those who wid sell oor birthrights
Tae mak us slaves an servile peasants,
Using stealth ,treachery an unco ither weys
Rogues they be crooks ,cheats and thieves
Seeming beyond reproach wi things hidden
Frae us puir mortals aye they wull dae us doon,
Sic a time as this tae fecht fur whit is oors
Naw mair begging fur aa few scraps
Fae a table fu wi guid things ,
Scraps urny fur us we ur free loons
Burthit free an deeing we wull be free,
Ur ye ready tae rise yince agin?
Andrew P mcintyre 14/09/2020
Categories:
culloden, anger, conflict, freedom, heartbreak,
Form: Dramatic Verse
ancestral colours
rallying the clans
Culloden day trip
Categories:
culloden, color, history,
Form: Haiku
Weekend away in medieval castle
Traveling to Scotland on overnight train
Read the account of Culloden battle
Highlanders lost cherished domain.
Eyes feeling heavy am swept away
living the moment from long ago
Brave clan tartans fought that day
Historically painful tale of woe.
Gossamer mist invades my dream
Long dead minstrel sings of noble deed
Ghostly features with passion gleam
He's haunted by unspoken need
His presence powerful when I awake
Know exactly what he aspires too
Culloden fields he cannot forsake
To clan markers I go, together we view.
High on the moor, the wind is fierce
His spirit returns to his long lost past
Feel my heart so gently pierced
He's returned to highland roots at last.
Categories:
culloden, grave, history,
Form: Rhyme
The battles ower ,smoke settles ower the moor,
Clans are broken flying aff tae the hills.
Redcoated sodjers mingle with red Heilan blude,
Killing the wounded in Drumossie mud.
Oor Prince has fled leaving dreams in the dust,
Of a Stuart oan the throne that was oor lust,
like the heron scared of mans approach
fleeing his home being taen awa tae France.
Some say he was a bonnie lad cam frae italia way,
Heir tae the royale throne pretending tae be king,
Nae clue or fighting skill but the bonnie prince could sing.
Noo he was being led awa tae catch a boat tae tak him awa.
It was spoken of in tones hushed and still,
Ane day he wid return tae claim the throne,
Frae ower the watter oor king wid come,
Alang wi lairds cawed awa tae France.
© Andrew Provan McIntyre 2016-05-28
Categories:
culloden, courage, dream, farewell, french,
Form: Rhyme
The shore it’s seen, calm so near,
But rocks and swells deterrent to all,
Prevent a landing? It is not clear,
The Stuart Prince dismissed his fear,
Landed his launch, and began the call.
A call to arms, he encouraged the men,
To fight their foe and rid them now,
Of English rule and oppression's end,
The courage of each they could depend,
Freedom to gain, they must somehow.
Clans came as one, to the Bonnie’s call,
Agreed to raise arms, to fight till free,
On highlands they marched for one, for all.
United as Scots proud and tall,
To alter their current destiny.
Battles fought on bog and moor,
Pushed back the English offence,
To whence they came from as before,
But England stood at Culloden, a core,
An end to Scottish independence.
Categories:
culloden, history, military,
Form: Rhyme
CULLODEN FORETOLD
A man he once said ta'e me,
You'll lay on heather, your gut will bleed.
Near Inverness you should na'e be,
Your end is there upon thee.
I paid no heed, jumped to my feet,
Charged through the Highlands, sword in sheath.
Loyalty to the Stuarts was my belief,
and to the end that will be.
The charge has stalled, and is no more.
The Duke has trained his English Score,
to stand and fight, not run as before.
This man who spoke has told me.
On this ground I now will stand,
dirk at side, sword in hand.
Bring on my foe, I now demand,
The day has come, God save me.
The volley came, smoke thick as fog.
We charged into the peat and bog,
They stood as one, and stopped our trod,
and slaughtered all that will be.
And now I lay, my gut has bled.
A man by me, still live, not dead.
A Brit comes near, thrusting as he treads,
kills him and I as foretold to me.
Graham Alexander Devenish
Categories:
culloden, courage, destiny, history, military,
Form: Rhyme
Paler than the hills I walk
I hear the bleat of sheep long still
and see the thistles of the Saltire’s home,
yet wear the weave of no clan’s name
The red of my discordant neck carries
the match of a thousand morning skies.
When shepherds take warning and
storms make wilful sport
And those same maelstroms
that play a dirge upon my soul.
twist my limbs like the elasticated
stretch of an eviscerated gut
So, let me taste this air of
bitter sweet remembrances,
and at last set forth toward
that brightest of lights
Categories:
culloden, history,
Form: Free verse
16th April 1746
The day a country ceased to exist
British Army, Hanoverian scum
Defeated our Jacobite's
Scotland's is on the run
Our Tartans banished, bagpipes no more
To lead our troops, to frighten the foe
Cumberland's men hunt us down
In every village and every town
Massacred, slaughtered
Wiped from our earth
Erased from the country of our birth
2000 men died to fight for their right
Against the British Armies might
Cameron's, MacDonald's and Fraser's slain
Many other Clans, population drained
The survivors facing Hanoverian bans
Led to
The Scattering of the Clans
The Clan Chiefs lands, vast and many
Asset stripped, taken by the enemy
Alleged traitors tried, treason their crime
As Hanoverian Scum, on our riches dine
In the aftermath, many Scots left their shores
To distant lands to open new doors
Many writers on here
On their Ancestors scan
You may be here, because of
The Scattering Of The Clans
Categories:
culloden, anger, depression, desire, passion,
Form: Rhyme
16th April 1746
The day a country ceased to exist
British Army, Hanoverian scum
Defeated our Jacobite's
Scotland is on the run
Our Tartans banished, bagpipes no more
To lead our troops, to frighten the foe
Cumberland's men hunt us down
In every village and every town
Massacred, slaughtered
Wiped from our earth
Erased from the country of our birth
2000 men died to fight for their right
Against the British Armies might
Cameron's MacDonald's and Fraser's slain
Many other Clans, population drained
The survivors facing Hanoverian bans
Led to
The Scattering of the Clans
The Clan Chiefs lands, vast and many
Asset stripped, taken by the enemy
Alleged traitors tried, treason their crime
As Hanoverian Scum, on our riches dine
In the aftermath, many Scots left their shores
To distant lands to open new doors
Many writers on here
On their Ancestors scan
You may be here, because of
The Scattering Of The Clans
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland.php
Categories:
culloden, political, warmen,
Form: Rhyme