A gravestone from the Battlefield of Culloden

It is easy to write about violence, the causes of it, the effects of it, in the abstract. Glib, throwaway statements are profoundly easy to produce. My aim in writing this second part of this week’s Murder Ballad Monday blog is to try my best to reach across to the opposite side of this position. Trying not to be glib, tacky and easy when writing about violence is something I believe Robert Burns achieved. I believed Burns achieved it because he had that poet’s insight into the space within all of us that leads some to violence and some to peace. I believe that Ye Jacobites by Name, rather than being a rebel rousing anthem, which is how I believe it has sometimes been sung, is, in fact something more profound, deeper and more complex a song. A song that offers a challenge to those who decide to undertake violent acts.

The Duke of Cumberland, known after Culloden as Butcher Cumberland.

Immediately after the battle the Duke of Cumberland ordered the British troops to show ‘no quarter’ to the injured and the dying on the battlefield. Those captured were either executed or banished overseas. The British government was determined to never again face a conflict within the British Isles. Laws were enacted by the British government that banned the wearing of tartan by anyone in Scotland, except British army troops. The estates of those Highland chiefs and Lords who had supported the Jacobites were stripped from them and sold. Highlanders were banned from having any weapons. Highlanders were asked to undertake the following oath:

“I swear as I shall answer to God at the Great Day of Judgement, I have not and I shall not have in my possession any gun, sword or arms whatsoever and never use tartan, plaid or any part of the Highland garb, and if I do so may I be accursed in my undertakings, family and property. May I never see my wife nor children nor father, mother or relations. May I be killed in battle as a fugitive coward, and lie without Christian burial in a foreign land far from the graves of my forefathers, far from the graves of my forefathers and kindred. May all this come upon me if I break this oath.”

The Gaelic language, that ancient tongue, was banned and anyone heard speaking it or even reading it was risking being hanged. The words of the British national anthem, God save the King, were changed during the conflict so that the third verse contained these words:

“Lord, grant that Marshal Wade,

May by thy mighty aid,

Victory bring.

May he sedition hush,

and like a torrent rush,

Rebellious Scots to crush,

God save the King.”

This was an attempt to wipe out an entire way of life. At other times in history, in different contexts, strong words would be used to describe this type of behaviour such as ethnic cleansing or worse. Huge sums of money were offered as a reward for the capture of any of the Jacobite leaders, particularly  Prince Charles Edward Stuart himself. The British government sent thousands of British army troops, known as redcoats all over the north west Highlands of Scotland looking for the Prince. Somehow, between the fact and legend of the aftermath of Culloden, and the brutal dismantling of the clan system, the search for ‘Bonnie Prince Charlie’ becomes the lingering icon of the whole campaign. The fact that huge, massive amounts of money, equivalent to lottery type wins today, were being offered and yet, the Prince, arguably responsible for the whole folly in the first place, remained at large has become the defining historical image and you can see why. The handsome, dashing noble Prince fleeing across a wild land, hunted by cunning foes is a very strong, powerful and long lasting narrative. However it is not the only image nor is it the ‘truth.’ To get closer to the ‘truth’ we have to dig a little deeper.

It needs to be said that lowland Scotland on the whole was hugely supportive of the British government and the attempts to defeat the Jacobites, and as well as the dismantling of the clan system. To Presbyterian Lowlanders, Highlanders were seen as second class, ‘erse speaking’ catholics who belonged to the past. Modernity was beginning to sweep through the Lowlands of Scotland, and nothing was going to get in its way.

A way of life that had been so public, so front and centre in Highland society, now became hidden and highly secretive. Gaelic surnames like MacDonald, and Macpherson were replaced by Brown and Smith. In short it was not a good time to be a part of a culture that was seen as the enemy.

In the same way that this Highland culture, the way of dress, of music, of speaking, in short the whole way of existing, the way of being was being banned, hidden, held in secret, so was the any sign of support for the failed Jacobite cause. Tributes to the Prince appeared in jewellery form, in hidden portraits and in song and verse. The brutality, the barbarism, the torturing were all washed away from these romantic yearnings for the King o’er the water in the songs that start appearing in the decades after Culloden.

Songs such as ‘Will ye no come back again’ and ‘The Skye Boat Song’ cemented the sense of romantic loss almost to the point of harmless nostalgia.

It was sentimentally on a massive scale. True, it is rather beautiful and in its own way moving. However it is a deflection away from the brutal reality of what happened in Scotland during this time. This sentimentally feeds an image, an understanding of Scotland that sees anything associated with Scotland as being saturated with failure, victimhood and, our old friend, disaster. There is not a great distance between this and the development of ‘bonny wee highland shortbread’ tins. Such imagery speaks of quiet, peaceful glens populated by bonny, welcoming strangers. If you look at the films of both of these songs they contain beautiful images of the Highlands that are almost completely empty of people. Landscapes, mountains, highland glens, ruined buildings – utterly empty and completely void of humanity. These places were once well populated and this emptiness is surely one of the major consequences of the Jacobite risings and its brutal aftermaths. Cairns Craig, professor of Irish and Scottish Studies at the University of Aberdeen reflects on this when he says:

“Too often, in Scotland, a particular way of seeing our culture, of representing ourselves, has come to dominate our perceptions because it has gone unchallenged – worse, unexamined. The vitality of the culture should be measured by the intensity of debate which it generates rather than the security of ideas on which it rests. And should be measured by the extent to which creative, philosophical, theological, critical and political ideas confront each other.” (1)

And finally, to Mr Burns….

Robert Burns

The song was originally written as a pro-British government, anti-Jacobite song. The original lyrics can be found here.

Burns’ lyrics are these:

Ye Jacobites by name, give an ear, give an ear, 

Ye Jacobites by name, give an ear, 

Ye Jacobites by name, 

Your fautes I will proclaim, 

Your doctrines I maun blame, you shall hear. 

What is Right and what is Wrang, by the law, by the law? 

What is Right and what is Wrang by the law? 

What is Right, and what is Wrang? 

A short sword, and a lang, 

A weak arm and a strang, for to draw. 

What makes heroic strife, famed afar, famed afar? 

What makes heroic strife famed afar? 

What makes heroic strife? 

To whet th’ assassin’s knife, 

Or haunt a Parent’s life, wi’ bluidy war? 

Then let your schemes alone, in the state, in the state, 

Then let your schemes alone in the state. 

Then let your schemes alone, 

Adore the rising sun, 

And leave a man undone, to his fate.

What was the song about?

In many ways Burns’ version of Ye Jacobites by Name is an early version of the protest song that later songwriters would champion. For me I see particular strong echoes of Burns in Bob Dylan and his song ‘Masters of War’ (Sung here by Pearl Jam).

And in John Lennon and his song Working Class Hero.

Always relevant, always meaningful

Robert Burns travelled across Scotland and would have certainly visited Culloden. He reinterpreted Ye Jacobites by Name and changed it from a bravo, up and at them type of song to something more gentle, tender and complex. I see great heartache and pain within the lyrics. A desire to banish everything that causes pain, suffering and death. In particular, the whole fantasy of ‘the cause’ as being the driver of events is beautifully attacked by Burns. He mocks notions of heroism and honour with his words. He pleads for concepts of war to be packed away. He attacks those who seek to cause violence by whatever doctrine they adhere to. It is a song of deep humanity that raises huge questions about the doctrines and causes that bring violence upon ordinary humans and those who support them. This was a song written in Scotland towards the end of the 18th century that surely finds a welcome and relevant audience wherever and whenever it is played.

I close with the version of the song that I think captures the beauty and the pain of Burns’ intended version. It is sung by Eddi Reader from her excellent album “Sings the Songs of Robert Burns.”

 (1) Craig, Cairns. Ed. Forward! Labour Politics in Scotland 1888 – 1988. Edinburgh, Polygon. 1989.