From Vagabond Songs and Ballads of Scotland edited, with notes, by Robert Ford (Paisley and London: Alexander Gardner, 1901), page 73 (where musical notation for a melody line is also given):

THE HEIGHTS OF ALMA

[1] Ye loyal Britons, pray, give ear,
Unto the news I bring you here;
While joy each Briton's heart doth cheer,
For the vict'ry gained at Alma.
'Twas on September the fourteenth day,
In spite of the salt sea's dashing spray,
We landed safe on the Crimea,
All on the route for Alma.

[2] That night we lay on the cold ground,
No tent nor shelter could be found;
With rain we all were nearly drowned,
To cheer us for the Alma.
Next morn a burning sun did rise,
Beneath the cloudless Eastern skies;
Our gallant chief, Lord Raglan, cries—
"Prepare to march for Alma."

[3] And when the Alma came in view,
It did the stoutest heart subdue,
To see the mighty Russian crew,
Upon the heights of Alma.
They were so strongly fortified,
With batteries on the mountain-side,
Our general viewed the forts, and cried—
"There'll be hot work at Alma."

[4] The balls did fall as thick as rain,
When we the batteries tried to gain,
And many a hero there was slain
Upon the heights of Alma.
The Thirty-third and the Fusiliers,
They climbed the hills and gave three cheers;
While "Faugh a ballagh" rent our ears,
From the Irish boys at Alma.

[5] Our Highland lads, with kilt and hose,
They were not last, you may suppose;
But boldly faced their Russian foes,
To gain the heights of Alma.
And when the heights we did command,
We fought the Russians hand to hand;
But the Russian force could not withstand
The British charge at Alma.

[6] Their guns and knapsacks they threw down,
And ran like hares before the hound,
While "Vive L'Empereur" did resound,
From the sons of France at Alma.
But though the battle we have got,
And gallantly our heroes fought,
Yet dearly was the victory bought,
For thousands died at Alma.

[7] Between the wounded and the slain,
The Russians lost eight thousand men;
And had three thousand prisoners ta'en
Upon the heights of Alma.
Two thousand British, I heard say,
Did fall upon that fatal day;
And fourteen hundred Frenchmen lay
In bloody graves at Alma.

[8] To Sebastopol the Russians fled,
They left their wounded and their dead;
The river that day ran crimson red,
With the blood that was spilled at Alma.
From orphans' eyes the tear-drops roll,
And none the widows can console.
While parents mourn, beyond control,
The sons they lost at Alma.

[9] And many a pretty maid does mourn,
Her lover who will ne'er return;
By cruel war he's from her torn,
And his body lies at Alma.
With France and England, hand in hand,
What force on earth can them withstand;
So sound the news throughout the land—
The victory of the Alma.

The above was a common street song, and always a "catch," not in Scotland alone, but all over Britain, for many years succeeding the great Crimean War. Many thousands of it must have been sold in broad sheet form.