The execrable Bonnie Prince Charles rallies the clans
The Bates clan is gathering at my mother’s home in Sewanee, Tennessee. We aren’t really Scottish but I use the word “clan” because family lore has it that one of our branches is descended from James Scott, the rebellious Duke of Monmouth. In any event, “Scott” has long been a family name so a Walter Scott poem about clan gathering seems in order.
My father said his mother was always proud of our supposed connection with Monmouth until learning that, if it existed at all, it wouldn’t have been through legitimate channels. After learning that, she went quiet on the matter. Of course, Monmouth himself was illegitimate. As John Dryden writes in Absolom and Architophel, supposedly about King David fathering Absolom but actually about Charles II fathering Monmouth,
Then Israel’s monarch after heaven’s own heart,
His vigorous warmth did variously impart
To wives and slaves; and, wide as his command,
Scattered his Maker’s image through the land.
“The gathering of the clans” may be a Sir Walter Scott invention, written when Scottish nationalism was on the rise several decades after England perpetrated a genocidal attack on the Scottish highlands on account of their participation in the Jacobite rebellion of 1745.
In the following poem, Grigalach is another name for MacGregor. The folk hero Rob Roy MacGregor was lionized by Scott after the MacGregors had their name banned following the rebellion.
Our own gathering isn’t quite so bloodthirsty but we may do some halooing:
MacGregor’s Gathering
By Sir Walter Scott
The moon’s on the lake, and the mist’s on the brae,
And the Clan has a name that is nameless by day;
Then gather, gather, gather Grigalach!
Gather, gather, gather Grigalach!
Our signal for fight, that from monarchs we drew,
Must be heard but by night in our vengeful haloo!
Then haloo, Grigalach! haloo, Grigalach!
Haloo, haloo, haloo, Grigalach!
Glen Orchy’s proud mountains, Coalchuirn and her towers,
Glenstrae and Glenlyon no longer are ours;
We’re landless, landless, landless, Grigalach!
Landless, landless, landless, Grigalach!
But doom’d and devoted by vassal and lord,
MacGregor has still both his heart and his sword!
Then courage, courage, courage, Grigalach!
Courage, courage, courage, Grigalach!
If they rob us of name, and pursue us with beagles,
Give their roofs to the flame, and their flesh to the eagles!
Then vengeance, vengeance, vengeance, Grigalach!
Vengeance, vengeance, vengeance, Grigalach!
While there’s leaves in the forest, and foam on the river,
MacGregor despite them, shall flourish for ever!
Come then Grigalach, come then Grigalach,
Come then, come then, come then Grigalach!
Through the depths of Loch Katrine the steed shall career,
O’er the peak of Ben Lomond the galley shall steer,
The rocks of Craig-Royston like icicles melt,
Ere our wrongs be forgot, or our vengeance unfelt!
Then gather, gather, gather Grigalach!
Gather, gather, gather Grigalach!
So here we are, gathering, gathering, gathering. While there’s leaves in the forest and foam on the river, we Bateses will flourish forever. Haloooo!
