The Collected Writings of Dougal Graham, "Skellat" Bellman of Glasgow, Vol. 1 of 2

Now as Charles around Stirling lay,

To surrender they did give way,

All but brave Blakney, who withdrew

Into the Castle, with those thought true,

Who chose with him the siege to stand

To their life’s end, with sword in hand.

His stores, indeed, were ill laid in,

S’ unexpected it did begin,

No time had they for to provide,

Charles being so long on their south side.

Their ammunition too was small,

No stock of powder, nor yet of ball;

Yet all encouragement he gave

To those who’d help the Fort to save:

His endeavours he spared not

To find such stores as could be got:

And all he thought of use to be,

Were welcome to his companie:

And those who fearful were to stay

Freely got leave to go away;

Th’ unloyal he charg’d not to ’tend it;

For to the last he would defend it.

Summons he got for to surrender;

But answer made, “He was defender,

“Intrusted by king George command,

“To which, he vow’d, he’d firmly stand.”

Then to assault they did prepare,

Milit’ry engines erected there,

Cannon from th’ other side the Forth,

Which had been landed in the north.

British cannons lost at Fount’noy,

Came home this Fort for to destroy.

To raise a trench, in haste they got,

As near the walls as pistol shot,

On the east side, on a hill top,

To breach the wall it was their hope:

And then by storm they did pretend,

Of all within to make an end:

But at this instant Hawley came,

Which put a stop to their fierce aim.

Then all their force together drew,

Those in the north past at the Frew;

Near by Torwood they rendezvouz’d,

Where Hawley’s camp, afar they view’d,

Hard by Falkirk, on the north side,

The English banners were display’d.

From th’ banks of Carron they had in view,

All passes where they could come thro’:

Ev’n from Forth side up to the hills;

But high presumption their courage fills,

As they were arm’d in such a case,

The rebel Scots would not them face:

And as in scorn did them deride,

So to advance did slow proceed:

And spent their time in vain delay

Ev’n the forepart of th’ battle-day.

While Charlie, with much active care,

His res’lute troops did well prepare:

From Torwood-head they issu’d down

To the south side, on rising groun’.

Cross’d Carron at Dunnipace mill.

By foot of Bonny took th’ hill,

And still he kep’t a sharp look out,

In hopes that Hawley would take th’ rout;

As in his camp sure news he had

From’s out-guard posts who there had fled.

Mean time the Highlanders gain’d th’ hill,

Wind on their back just at their will.

Hawley’s camp it was alarmed;

But he himself could not be had:

Chief orders then they could get none,

Which caused some confusion,

And when that Hawley did appear,

He’d not believe they were so near.

Husk form’d his men and took the hill,

The horsemen also march’d there-till,

Glasgow and Paisley volunteers,

Eager to fight, it so appears,

With the dragoons advanc’d in form,

Who ’mong the first did feel the storm.

The Highlanders, seeing their zeal,

Their highland vengeance pour’d like hail,

On red coats they some pity had,

But ’gainst Militia were raging mad.

Cob’s dragoons they southmost stood;

But gain a flank they never cou’d:

For Murray led on the front line,

And kept them both from flank and wind:

Some time was spent these points to gain;

But all the struggle prov’d in vain.

Gardner’s and Monroe’s were next,

On worse ground troopers could not fix;

I don’t mean as to th’ en’mies fire;

But on their front a boggie mire,

Which in th’ attack the horse confounded,

And they on all sides were surrounded;

Next to them the volunteers,

Between the foot and Grenadiers.

Some reg’ments coming up the hill,

And as they came, they formed still.

The Highlanders in columns three,

Came moving on couragiouslie,

With loud huzzas on every side,

Their bloody banners were display’d,

The front line only three men deep,

They in reserve the rest did keep:

Their plaids in heaps were left behind,

Light to run if need they find:

And on they came with a goodwill,

At the dog-trot, adown the hill.

At Cob’s dragoons the first rank fir’d:

But rear and centre were desir’d

To keep their fire, and then to pour’t

Into their face, while front in scourd

With sword in hand, (as they intended)

This was design’d them to defend it.

So near their front at flight they came,

They turned back both horse and man,

They kept up fire then crack by crack,

They surely found it on their back;

For men and horse to field they brang,

And many in their saddles swang.

The brave Monroe, with his troops too

Disdain’d to flee; but went quite thro’

Their front line, centre, and the rear;

But fell himself, as he came near,

Two balls out thro’ his body ran,

Alas! he never raise again.

He was a soldier, bold and true,

Rather too fierce as some avow,

His whole troop now was in the mire,

Inclos’d about with sword and fire,

Hacking, slashing, behind, before ’em,

All enrag’d for to devour them:

Th’ horses legs to their bellies was,

Few with life from ’mong them pass.

By this the horse were fairly beat,

And those were left made full retreat;

But oh! such wind and rain arose,

As if all conspir’d for Hawley’s foes.

The southside being fairly won,

They fac’d north, as all had been done,

Where next stood, to bide the brush

The volunteers, who zealeous

Kept firing close, till near surrounded,

And by the flying horse confounded:

They suffer’d sore into this place,

No Highlander pity’d their case—

You curs’d Militia, they did swear,

What a devil did bring you here?

Ligonier’s, Husks and Cholmondelly,

Gave from them many a dreadful volley,

Two running fires, from end to end,

Which broad swords could no way defend:

But seeing so many run and fall,

They thought they were in danger all,

And for their safety did prepare,

In haste they form’d a hollow square:

The horsemen being all fled or slain,

The very Loyal fled like men.

Some reg’ments marching up the hill

To turn again, had right good will.

Brave col’nel Jack, being then a boy,

His warlike genious did employ,

He form’d his men at the hill foot,

Which was approv’d as noble wit:

But if Husk had not check’d their fury,

Some thousands more had been to bury;

He beat them fair quite out of sight,

But O! the rain and blowy night,

Horse or cannon, there, he had none,

He could not keep the field alone,

Some cannon which on th’ field there was,

Being spik’d up with iron flaws,

And render’d useless for that time,

The hole being stopt whereat they prime,

Barrel’s grenadiers to some yok’d too

And eastward to Falkirk them drew;

Yet all their toil no effect had,

Their drivers and the horse were fled,

The cannon, for some time, were lost,

The chance of war so rul’d the roast.

Husk in form made safe retreat,

Where all were flying the other gate

Out from the camp, the Lithgow way,

He form’d the Buffs behind to stay,

In trust, to cover the retreat,

Which was nought but a pannick fright:

For had they kept their camp, I’m sure,

The Clans wou’d soon have left the Muir;

For there was but few who kept th’ field,

Many dispers’d to seek for bield.

No sooner the battle was begun

Than on both sides the cow’rdly run;

And thro’ the country word was spread,

How George had won, and Charles fled:

Ev’n Charles himself could hardly tell,

That very night how it befel;

But the abandoning their camp

Confirm’d all, and made them ramp.

It is well known by all about,

The battle was not half fought out:—

But to run, O shame! and leave your tents,

Like brok’n tennants with unpaid rents?

The dread of Highlandmen to consider!

And not two hundred of them together;

But all dispers’d the country thro’,

Afraid of them, and they of you!

For had they known th’ English retreating,

’Hind Tamtallan, had been a beating.

This was the step which Hawley took,

Which ruined all, else I mistook.

The duke of Perth laught in his sleeve,

And Charles himself could scarce believe,

That Hawley was turn’d such a cow,

As flee when none was to pursue.

When those about heard of the flight,

They came and took the town that night.

Both town and camp left to their will,

As Hawley march’d on eastward still,

To Lithgow and Borrowstounness,

And some to Edinburgh did pass,

There gave it out, “That all was lost,

“Few left alive of Hawley’s host,

“Charles was driving all before him,

“The very wind and rain fought for him.”

On Janu’ry sixteenth, afternoon,

This battle was fought, but never won:

But on the morn both great and small

Unto Falkirk assembled all,

To view the field and bury the slain;

But which was which, was ill to ken:

For by their clothes no man could tell,

They stripped were as fast’s they fell.

The plund’ring wives, and savage boy

Did many wounded men destroy;

With durks and skians they fell a sticking,

For which they well deserved a kicking:

Some of the brutish commons too,

I saw them run the wounded thro’!

The brave Monroe his corpse was there,

Among the slain and stripped bare;

In Falkirk yard, you’ll read his name,

Interr’d hard by Sir John the Grahame.

All who Militia were suspected,

To catch that day was not neglected,

And hundreds more, I you assure,

Who came to see their Falkirk-muir,

Ev’n for such curiosity

Were brought into much misery.

Being driven north to Inverness,

Their cold and hunger I can’t express:

Those who felt it, best can tell,

I leave them to express’t themsel.

An accident happ’ned next day

T’ one Glengarie on the Street-way,

A man in plunder got a gun,

Two balls from which he had new drawn,

Judging in it there was no more,

Yet another she had in store.

Out at a window did her lay,

Dreading no harm he did let fly,

Which kill’d Glengary as he past,

Dead on the street it laid him fast.

They siezed the fellow and did bang him,

Would give no time to judge or hang him;

But with guns and swords upon him drave,

Which made him minch-meat for the grave.

For Stirling then they march’d again,

With prisoners and all their train:

To Blackney new summons were given

For to surrender, or be driven

Unto death, by fire and sword;

Just now to yield—or trust the word,

That they would make that fort his grave,

And not a soul therein would save.

But Blackney said, The fort was his,

And each within aminded was,

To stand the last extremitie:

Take this for answer now from me,

“When my King and Master gives me word,

“You will have it without stroke of sword.”

Then with fury began the siege,

Both day and night they did engage:

On the east side upon a height,

Open’d a batt’ry in the night,

Of wooden faggots fill’d with mud:

Upon a rock the trench it stood,

To dig it deep it would not do,

At last they purchas’d packs of woo,

For which Perth’s duke gave his own bill,

Smith may protest it when he will,

For Perth and Blackney both are gone,

And I trow, it was paid by none.

The country ’round they did compel

Faggots to make and trees to fell.

The one built up, th’ other beat down,

Their noise was heard the country round.

Indeed hersel was loth to do it;

But on pain of death she was put to’t.

French engineers indeed they had,

Who order’d all to work like mad.

Here many a poor man lost his life,

Being unaccustom’d to such strife,

Crying Shentlemen, ye’d best let be;

For feth wese hae a meuds of ye;

If we had up our muckle dyke

We’ll tak your Castle when we like.

These engineers, who knew far better,

Out of their lives did still them flatter,

At ev’ry point where danger was

They made the poor unthoughtfu’ pass:

Which only did prolong the time,

To murder men they thought no crime:

For well they knew it would not do,

With such batt’ries of mud and woo:

Unless they made a cover’d way

Dug in the earth, thro’ sand or clay.

Ten days they wrought with all their pow’r,

And men they lost on’t ev’ry hour,

Night and day there was no rest,

And Blackney always had the best.

The fort being high above their trench,

To see their work it was no pinch,

Dung hill like on a rock ’twas laid:

In form of a potatoe-bed.

With tow and tar when it was dark

He let them see to do their wark,

Which as a lamp burnt on their trench,

Caus’d many die who thought to quench’t.

They skirmish’d on, both night and day,

With cannons and small arms did play:

Four big guns were brought up at last;

But soon were off their carriage cast,

Their very muzzles were beaten in,

And off their wheels they made them spin.

One called Fife on Blackney’s side,

At ev’ry shot he laid their pride,

Experienc’d by hand and eye,

A perfect gunner, by land and sea;

But the worst thing which did ensue,

Of cannon balls they had but few,

Which caus’d them fire with coals and stones,

Or ought was fit for smashing bones:

For of the balls he was but sparing,

Unless to give some hearty fairing.

An engineer who plagu’d him sadly,

Whereat he was enraged madly,

By his upbraiding speech and mocks,

As he’d been more than other folks,

Some did believe he had a charm,

As ’gainst a shot he’d wag his arm,

Fife try’d with ball, iron and stones,

Then curs’d his cantraips skin and bones;

He was some de’il as all did miss him,

Said he, I’ll find a way to bless him,

Having drunk some beer, bottles were by,

With glass, methinks, this devil I’ll try:

When broken small, he cram’d them in,

“I trust, with this, to pierce thy skin,”

Then play’d it off with all his art,

Which minch’d him quite above the heart,

So down he fell, spoke never more;

Soon after this the siege gave o’er.

The cannons all off carriage driven

And trenches with the rocks made ev’n.

Then to all those who went to see,

Like potatoe field it seem’d to be.

Many dead bodies in’t were found,

White noses sticking thro’ the ground.

All being o’er, since it began,

Brave Blackney lost only one man;

Six were wounded, ’tis very true;

But poor John Fife got not his due

Recompence, equal to his merit;

For which the poor lad broke his spirit,

He went again back to the sea,

Got a wat’ry tomb, as they tell me.

He was but a Scot, and meanly born,

Had no good speakers, Scots then at scorn.

Now, to ev’ry body, ’tis a wonder,

How that so many liv’d on plunder;

For between Falkirk and Kippen ay

It is but sixteen miles of way,

Which space maintain’d ten thousand more

Than th’ usual number within each door,

For full four weeks, or nearly thereby,

The time they at the siege did ly,

The happy Janet kept the Forth,

And curb’d all vessels from the north.

About the Queens-ferry she lay,

Came with the tides, and gave them play

Up by Airth and Higgins nook,

Where was a batt’ry prov’d a mock.

They thought to keep Forth to themsel;

But what it cost there’s few can tell:

For all th’ shipping they had at sea,

Did not exceed in number three,

Which kept about Perth and Montrose,

And privily to France did cross.

So all round Stirling where they lay,

Oft did they wish they were away.

Commands they sent all round about,

And searched all provisions out.

Some of them paid like honest men,

Others did not, I tell you plain:

But this I have so far to say,

They duly got their weekly pay;

But yet when plunder came in use,

They spared neither duck nor goose,

Butter, cheese, beef, or mutton,

All was theirs that could be gotten,

Pocks of meal, hens and cockies,

They made that country bare of chuckies,

Made many a Carlin whinge and girn,

By crowdie of her meal and kirn:

All this they did before their eyes,

Guidwife cum sup here an ye please,

I own indeed it was a failing;

But yet I cannot call it stealing:

Because some folks refus’d to sell:

How long, now, cou’d ye fast yoursell?

For the hungry came, chas’d out the fu’,

Where meat was found, this was their due.