CULLODEN or DRUMMOSIE MOOR
Words Jim McLean 1963
Tune The Bonnie Hoose o' Airlie (A wee bird cam tae oor ha' door…)
Pub. Duart Music London

I wrote this song, not as a romantic ballad in praise of Charles Edward Stewart, but to show how his arrogance and the incompetence of his generals, coupled with the fierce pride of his Chieftains, notably the MacDonalds, led to a terrible slaughter and was the beginning of the end of the Highland way of life.

The hail o' Scotland's wearing black,
A' dessed up for the soddin,                                 (burial)
Prince Chairlie chose the place himsel',
The grave yaird o' Culloden.
Wi' hungry men, he faced the Duke,                        (Cumberland)
Wi' hungry men an' weary.
Wi' sticks and stanes,' gainst England's guns,      
They thocht they'd win for Chairlie.

MacDonald he glowered, and stood aback,
His pride was hurt richt sairly,
Hw wouldna fecht on any other side,
But on the richt o' Chairlie.
On England's side, wi' lack o' pride,
The Campbell smiled sae slyly,
Oor Hielan' men, were split in twain,
They focht baith for George and for Chairlie.

The Redcoats gaed doon on yin knee,
And held their muskets ready.
Their bellies ticht wi' breid and cheese,
Their haunds sae warm and steady,
Oor Hieland men upon them cam,
Their rags aboot them barely.
Wi' slogans an faith, they met their death,
They starved and died for Chairlie.

He stood on a knowe, the fecht tae see,
The snaw fell on him lichtly,
But in scarce an oor on Drummossie Moor                (hour)
He witnessed the murder o' his country.
The hale o' Scotland's wearing black,
A' dressed up for the soddin'
Prince Chairlie chose the place himsel'
The Graveyaird o' Culloden.