This is a collection of songs which may be of interest to fans of The Flight of the Heron, Kidnapped and other Jacobite novels, including songs appearing in the books themselves and some more of my favourite Jacobite-related songs.
The Jacobite movement has long provided good material for songwriters! James Hogg’s Jacobite Relics of Scotland, a collection of songs related to Jacobitism (most are Jacobite, but anti-Jacobite songs are included too) was published in 1819-21 and is an excellent source for older Jacobite-related songs. It’s in the public domain; free scanned copies are available here, and in two volumes here: [1], [2].
Many of what are now classic Jacobite songs were actually written long after the ’45; song-writing was a big part of the romanticisation of the Jacobite movement that began in the late eighteenth century and continued through the nineteenth. Carolina Oliphant, Lady Nairne (1766-1845) and Robert Burns (1759-1796) were amongst the most prolific writers of famous Jacobite songs and poems from this period. As with folk songs in general, the origins of any given Jacobite song may not be known for certain, and the statements of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century collectors (nor indeed those of modern recording artists) on a song’s provenance are not necessarily reliable!
I have made a Spotify playlist of my favourite recordings of Jacobite songs, featuring many of the songs listed on this page.
‘My Dearest on Earth, Give Me Your Kiss’. Quoted by Ewen at the end of the prologue and again as the book’s closing line. Broster describes it as ‘one of the ancient pibrochs’. Titled ‘Thoir dhomh do phog, a luaidh mo chridhe’ in Gaelic, it’s a classic bagpipe piece (though I’m not sure how ‘ancient’ it actually is; the earliest written sources I’ve found are from the nineteenth century). A recording can be found here.
‘To Daunton Me’. Quoted as the epigraph to Book II. Collected by Hogg here, this song has a confusingly non-unique title; it’s one of three different songs with this title in the Jacobite Relics, and should not be confused with the Robert Burns poem of the same title, which is different again. Hogg gives his source as ‘Mr Moir’s collection’, which I’ve not been able to find and that’s as far as I’ve traced the song, so its actual origin remains mysterious. Nor am I aware of any modern recordings.
‘Oh, this is my departing time, for here nae longer maun I stay’. Mentioned as a song not sung at the wedding feast, whereas ‘all the old Jacobite songs’ were sung (but Broster tantalisingly doesn’t name them). This one is very obscure; it’s not in Hogg, and the only thing my searching has turned up is a reference in a description of a party from a non-fiction book published in 1977—so it does evidently exist as a traditional Scottish song.
‘Hey, Johnnie Cope’. This classic Jacobite song describing the victory at the Battle of Prestonpans and cheerfully mocking the Hanoverian commander Lieutenant-General Sir John Cope is very contemporary, apparently having been written by a local farmer named Adam Skirving immediately after the battle. Hogg recorded two versions of the lyrics; the song has been set to various different tunes and recorded many times. I especially like Alastair McDonald’s version.
‘Charlie Is My Darling’. Another well-known Jacobite song, with lyrics of praise and admiration for Charles Edward. Several different versions of the lyrics exist; Hogg gives two of them. It’s not clear who originally wrote it; according to Wikipedia the first version has been attributed to Hogg himself and to Carolina Oliphant. In the tone of their admiration for Charles the earlier versions are more political-martial, while Robert Burn’s rewrite is distinctly bawdy. I like Alastair McDonald’s recording as an example of the first type and Eddi Reader’s for the second!
‘Bonnie House o’ Airlie’. David describes this as his favourite, so it may surprise the reader to learn that it’s virtually a Jacobite song! It’s about an attack made by the Campbell Earl of Argyll on Airlie Castle, home of the Ogilvy Earls of Airlie, in 1640 while the Earl of Airlie was away fighting for King Charles I against the Covenanters. The Ogilvies later became an important force in the Jacobite movement, and the ‘fighting for Charlie’ in this song took on a new significance—some versions of the lyrics actually have ‘Prince Charlie’ instead of ‘King’, suggesting a change of setting to the ’45. The various versions of the song collected by famous ballad collector Francis James Child can be found here as Child ballad number 199. Kate Rusby’s recording is particularly good—and note that Rusby sings ‘Prince Charlie’!
To make a brief digression far away from the subject of contemporary Jacobite folk music, here is a playlist of the songs—mostly late twentieth-century popular music of various genres—featuring in the National Theatre of Scotland’s excellent and cheerfully anachronistic 2023 adaptation of Kidnapped. Of particular note is the Gaelic love song ‘Hi Horo ’s Na Horo Eile’, which is a bit older than the rest, though still not contemporary: according to this lyrics website it was written c.1880 by John McLean of Balemartin (Iain MacGhill’eathain). In the play Alan sings it at Corrynakiegh.
In contrast to Flight of the Heron and Kidnapped, the three songs appearing in Flemington, though presented in the story as traditional, are all Violet Jacob’s own compositions. They were later published in the collection Songs of Angus (1915; ‘The Tod’ and ‘Logie Kirk’ appear under the same titles as in the novel, while the song beginning ‘My love stood at the loanin’ side’, untitled in Flemington, is here called ‘The Jacobite Lass’). They have been very nicely set to music and recorded by Luzula here.
With particular focus on those with some relevance to the characters and events of our favourite books. :)
‘Awa, Whigs, Awa’. An excellent example of the eloquent directness of folk song lyrics: ye’re but a pack o’ traitor loons; ye’ll dae nae guid at a’. Collected by Hogg here. Its authorship is unknown, but it appears to predate the Jacobite movement as such: Hogg says that ‘Part of the verses are as old as the time of Cromwell’. I especially enjoy James Malcolm’s energetic recording.
‘Bessie’s Haggies’. Rather than featuring in a Jacobite novel, this song is quoted by D. K. Broster in her (non-Jacobite-related) novel Chantemerle (1911, co-written with G. W. Taylor)—showing that she had some interest in the Jacobites for some time before writing a novel about them. Collected by Hogg here.
‘Both Sides the Tweed’. While it takes a definitely Scottish Jacobite perspective, this song is about the overcoming of national and political divides through ‘friendship and honour’; it’s surely therefore especially appropriate for Ewen and Keith. Collected by Hogg here. Modern recordings are generally based on Dick Gaughan’s version, which updates the lyrics to be more relevant to contemporary Scottish politics (in the process removing the Jacobite lines about ‘the king’s sacred right’) and gives it a new tune.
‘Cam Ye o’er frae France’. This song was probably written around the time of the ’15, and mocks ‘Geordie’ in the best folk song style. Collected by Hogg here; Wikipedia has a comprehensive explanation of the historical background and references in the lyrics. Memorably recorded by Steeleye Span; this live version is especially good.
‘Here’s His Health in Water’. This song, in which the narrator affirms loyalty to Charles in his days as a hunted fugitive after Culloden, is another one quoted by D. K. Broster in a non-Jacobite-related novel, this time The Wounded Name (1922). Hogg gives the lyrics here, and calls it a well-known song widely published, without giving a specific source. Oddly, Robert Burns’s rewrite changes the point of view and appears not to be about the Jacobites at all; the only recordings I’m aware of use those lyrics rather than the Jacobite ones.
‘Lassie, Lie Near Me’. A well-known Scottish traditional song, many versions of which are simply generic love songs about the meeting of long-parted lovers; but Hogg includes a version with lyrics about the battle of Culloden and the return of the weary Jacobite soldier to his lover’s arms. As is common with such variable folk songs it exists in differently-gendered versions, and according to Hogg the non-Jacobite ‘Laddie, Lie Near Me’ was the original. Sadly for my tastes, I’m not aware of any recordings that use both ‘laddie’ and the Jacobite lyrics, though Dick Gaughan’s is otherwise very good.
‘Loch Lomond’. Another famous folk song which is sometimes treated as a generic love song but sometimes Jacobite! Wikipedia has more information and lyrics. Folklorist, poet and Jacobite historian Andrew Lang wrote a version which is much more explicitly Jacobite than the better-known lyrics.
‘My Bonnie Moorhen’. This wistful song about Charles’s flight in the Highlands and eventual exile has a particularly lovely tune. It’s not in the Jacobite Relics, and I don’t know who wrote it, but the lyrics certainly seem to have been written with historical hindsight. Note that the moorhen of the title is a female red grouse, Lagopus lagopus—not Gallinula chloropus, the species more usually called ‘moorhen’ today (L. lagopus is a typical bird of the Scottish mountains; G. choloropus is not). Steeleye Span’s recording is very good (although they change the pronouns, in my opinion erroneously; while Charles himself is ‘he’, here he is lyrically disguised as a female bird, so ‘she’ makes more sense).
‘Parcel o’ Rogues in a Nation’. Written by Robert Burns about the events surrounding the 1707 Act of Union; Wikipedia has more information and full lyrics. My favourite recording is Steeleye Span’s, in which they show off their skill in beautiful multi-part harmonies.
‘Prince Charlie Stuart’. An ardent Jacobite song which describes Charles in terms that recall Keith’s thoughts about Ewen: My love was six foot two without stocking or shoe/In proportion my true love was built. Memorably recorded by Steeleye Span, who do a remarkable job of imitating the bagpipes with a fiddle. I don’t know where the lyrics come from; some versions give it the title ‘Flora MacDonald’s Lament’, but the ‘Lament of Flora MacDonald’ collected by Hogg is not the same song.
‘Skye Boat Song’. One of the least historically authentic of classic Jacobite songs, the original and best-known version of this song was written in the late nineteenth century by the Englishman Sir Harold Boulton. However, Robert Louis Stevenson—agreeing with my opinion that Boulton’s lyrics are not very interesting—wrote his own version, which I like much better.
‘There’ll Never Be Peace till Jamie Comes Hame’. Generally attributed to Robert Burns, but Hogg, who collects the song here, says that this lament for the sad state of the country during James’s exile was printed as ‘an old song’ in Johnson’s Museum. Burns may either have adapted an older song or passed his own work off as traditional. While Hogg gives a different tune, Alastair McDonald sings it to the same tune as ‘My Bonny Moorhen’.
‘Wha’ll Be King but Charlie’. This is one of the most well-known of Carolina Oliphant’s Jacobite songs; it dramatises Charles’s arrival in Scotland, and is sung stirringly by Alastair McDonald.
‘Will Ye No Come Back Again’. Also known as ‘Bonnie Charlie’, this is another of Carolina Oliphant’s most popular compositions; I think it makes the best of being a retrospective rather than a contemporary Jacobite song, as the lyrics lamenting Charles’s disappearance ‘o’er the friendly main’ are sung from a contemporary perspective but with a pervading wistful awareness of the historical future. It’s often used outside of Jacobite contexts as a more general farewell song, sometimes being played on the bagpipes rather than sung. I like Jean Redpath’s heartfelt recording of the Jacobite lyrics.
‘Ye Jacobites by Name’. The song from which this website gets its name! Originally a pretty vicious anti-Jacobite song, it was rewritten by Robert Burns as more of a general lament against the waste and pity of war and the folly of rebellion; that’s the version collected by Hogg here and the version that’s best-known today. There are many recordings; my favourite is Ian Bruce’s, which also features in the 2016 BBC Radio adaptation of Kidnapped.