The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith :: :: University of Virginia Library

Mackay of Strathnaver
He summoned his clan,
And plaided and claymored,
They came to a man—
Brisk lads of Strathnaver,
And gallants of Reay,
A thousand brave fellows
In tartan array.

The Leslies and Gordons,
Sent forth, too, their sons,
With Munros and Mackenzies
And Sinclairs and Gunns;
Another good thousand
To cross the North Sea,
And fight under Mansfield
In high Germanie.

For ages our Scots lads
Had “boun” them to France,
And guarded its monarch
With good sword and lance;
But their hearts now were burning
With new faith and hope
To match the grim legions
That fought for the Pope.

Dead was stout Mansfield
Before they touched land,
But the Dane seized the banner
That dropt from his hand:
And straight at his summons
Mackay led his men,
Though at Oldenburg perished
At least three in ten.

At onslaught and leaguer
The Scots bore the brunt,
Held the rear in retreating,
In battle the front;
But the Dane, beat by Tilly,
Soon gave up the lead
In the conflict of nations,
Which fell to the Swede.

It fell to Gustavus,
King, soldier, and knight,
To blend rival peoples,
And order the fight;
And never was army
Inspired as his was
With faith in their leader,
And faith in their cause.

Our Scots bore them bravely
In many a fight
With the great King Gustavus
To witness the sight,
At Leipsic, and Nurnberg,
'Gainst Tilly's Walloons,
And the big Pappenheimers,
And Walstein's dragoons.

Oh, never such a captain
As ours, led the host,
And while he commanded
No battle was lost;
In raid and in skirmish
They still had the best,
From triumph to triumph
Aye onward they pressed.

On the dark day of Lutzen
They followed the bier
Of the death-stricken victor
With many a tear;
Yet Lutzen with glory
Was filled to the brim,
But it seemed a lost battle,
Because they lost him.

And their hearts raged with fury,
Hearing men say
That there had been a traitor,
And death by foul play,
And that one of their number,
Who scaithless had been
When the battle was ended,
No longer was seen.

576

I know not for certain;
But this I do find,
He who faced the foe always
Was wounded behind;
And a Gordon had lately
Sat long at a feast
With a Jesuit cousin,
A trafficking Priest.

If a Gordon played traitor,
And Munro sold his sword,
The men of Strathnaver
Were true to their word,
Ever patient and faithful,
They held by the right,
And for freedom and justice
Maintained a good fight.

They failed not brave Banier,
They stood fast by Horn,
Though stricken and starving
And tattered and torn;
And they followed Duke Bernard,
Staunch ever and keen,
Who mocked at the Snow-king,
But worshipped his Queen.

But it was to Gustavus
Their thoughts ever turned,
And when they recalled him
Their hearts in them burned.
As they sat round their watch-fires
On cold winter nights,
It was good cheer and comfort
To talk of his fights.

How he ordered the battle,
And still led the way,
As keen for the tussle,
So calm in the fray;
How he saw to his soldiers
That all had their due,
And his little name-children
Of all ranks he knew.

Well he schooled them, and trained them
From childhood for war;
But they learned from their Bibles
What God's soldiers are,
And they learned to love freedom,
And yet to obey;
And none were more stedfast
At Naseby than they.

Thinned had their ranks been
At Oldenburg Pass,
And they perished by hundreds
At Lutzen, alas!
Yet home with old Leslie,
All covered with scars,
They came to take part
In the Covenant wars.

Thrice had the Highlands
Recruited their ranks,
And twice on the stricken field
They received thanks.
But barely a three-score
Of bent broken men,
Ever returned to
Strathnaver again.