The Marquis of Huntly's Retreat from the Battle of Sheriffmuir

With notes by Professor Gerald Auchinachie

The text of the ballad follows that from A New Book of Old Ballads, ed. Maidment, though a few annotations like "kittle flaws" are my own aided by a Scots dictionary:

"This very clever and spirited Ballad has been introduced by Hogg in the second [actually the first] volume of his Jacobite Relics from a very imperfect manuscript copy. The present one is taken from the original broadside, supposed to be unique, belonging to Mr. David Haig of the Advocate's Library." [Maidment's note]

1
From Bogie side to Bogie Gight,
The Gordons all conveen'd man,
With all their might, to battle weight,
Together closs they join'd man,
To set their King upon the throne,
And to protect the church, man;
But fy for shame! they soon ran hame,
And left him in the lurch, man.

[Refrain]
Vow as the Marquis ran,
Coming from Dumblane man;
Strathbogie did beshit itself,
And Enzie [M'Kenzie?] was not clean, man.
Vow, & c.

2
Their chieftain was a man of fame,
And doughty deeds had wrought, man,
Which future ages still shall name,
And tell how well he fought, man.
For when the battle did begin,
Immediately his Grace, man,
Put spurs to Florance, [his horse, gift of the Duke of Tuscany] and so ran
By all, and wan the race, man,

Vow, & c.

3
The Marquis' horse was first sent forth,
Glenbucket's foot to back them,
To give a proof what they were worth,
If rebels durst attack them.
With loud huzzas to Huntly's praise,
They near'd Dumferling Green, man,
But fifty horse, and de'il ane mair,
Turn'd many a Highland clan, man.

Vow, & c.

4
The second chieftain of that clan,
For fear that he should die, man,
To gain the honour of his name,
Rais'd first the mutinie, man
And then he wrote unto his Grace,
The great Duke of Argyle, man,
And swore if he would grant him peace,
The Tories he'd beguile man.

Vow, & c.

5
The Master [of Sinclair] with a bullie's face,
And with the coward's heart, man.
Who never fails, to his disgrace,
To act a traitor's part, man.
He join'd Drumboig, the greatest knave
In all the shire of Fife, man.
He was the first the cause did leave,
By council of his wife, man.

Vow, & c.

6
A member of the tricking trade,
An Ogilvie by name, man;
Consulter of the grumbling club,
To his eternal shame, man.
Who would have thought, when he came out,
That ever he would fail, man'
And like a fool, did eat the cow,
And worried on the tail, man.

Vow, & c.

7
Meffan Smith at Sheriff Muir,
Gart folk believe he fought, man;
But well its known, that all he did,
That day it serv'd for nought, man.
For towards night, when Mar march'd off,
Smith was put in rere, man;
He curs'd, he swore, he bauld out,
He would not stay for fear, man.

Vow, & c.

8
But at the first he seem'd to be
A man of good renown, man;
But when the grumbling work began,
He prov'd an arrant lown, man.
Against Mar, and a royal war,
A letter he did forge, man;
Against his Prince, he wrote nonsense,
And swore by Royal George, man.

Vow, & c.

9
At Poineth boat, Mr. Francis Stewart,
A valiant hero stood, man;
In acting of a royal part,
Cause of the royal blood, man.
But when at Sheriff Moor he found,
That bolting would not do it,
He, brother like, did quite his ground,
And ne'er came back unto it.

Vow, & c.

10
Brunstane said it was not fear
That made him stay behind, man;
But that he had resolv'd that day
To sleep in a whole skin, man.
The gout, he said, made him take,
When battle first began, man;
But when he heard his Marquis fled,
He took his heels and ran, man.

Vow, & c.

11
Sir James of Park, he left his horse
In the middle of a wall, man;
And durst not stay to take him out,
For fear a knight should fall, man;
And Maien he let such a crack,
And shewed a pantick fear, man;
And Craigieheads swore he was shot,
And curs'd the chances of wear, man.

Vow, & c.

12
When they march'd on the Sheriff Moor,
With courage stout and keen, man;
Who would have thought the Gordons gay,
That day should quite the green, man.
Auchleacher and Auchanachie,
And all the Gordon tribe man;
Like their great Marquis, they could not
The smell of powder bide, man.

Vow, & c.

13
Glenbuicket cryed, plague on you all,
For Gordons do no good, man;
For all that fled this day, it is
Them of the Seaton blood, man.
Clashtirim said it was not so,
And that he'd make appear, man;
For he a Seaton stood that day,
When Gordons ran for fear man.

Vow, & c.

14
The Gordons they are kittle flaws, [dangerous fellows]
They'll fight with heart and hand, man;
When they met in Strathbogie raws
On Thursday afternoon, man;
But when the Grants came doun the brae,
Their Enzie shook for fear, man;
And all the lairds rode up themselves,
With horse and riding gear, man.

Vow, & c.

15
Cluny plays his game of chess,
As sure as any thing, man;
And like the royal Gordons race,
Gave check unto the King, man.
Without a Queen, its clearly seen,
This game cannot recover;
I'd do my best, then in great haste
Play up the rook Hanover.

Vow as the Marquis ran,
Coming from Dumblain, man;
Strathbogie did beshit itself,
And Enzie was not clean, man.

Vow, & c.

Note on James Hogg:

When I was an undergraduate student in Canada in the 1950's, A.C. Baugh's A Literary History of England, l948, gave little mention to Hogg save as a minor, "peripheral" writer associated with Sir Walter Scott or as the "Ettrick Shepherd" upon whose death Wordsworth had written a moving poem grieving the loss of his great contemporaries.

All that has changed. Sparked by a remark of Andre Gide's that Hogg's The Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner, 1824, was undeniably a masterpiece of British literature virtually unread and unrecognized by the English, Hogg has been looked at anew with respect and admiration. In Canada that most modern of accolades has been conferred on the Justified Sinner: it was turned into a wonderful film seen on the CBC.

In literary studies nowadays no one interested in the phenomenon of "the double" can ignore Hogg and he now belongs securely to the canon of the Gothic novel which like science fiction studies attracts devotees far beyond the academy. When I was at school, we only knew him as the author of the poem "Kilmeny". (GMA)

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