All posts by yodamo



George Washington
John Adams
Samuel Adams
Benjamin Franklin
Martha Washinton
Betty Judge
Ona Judge
Dolly Madison
John McGraw
John Souissat
Paul Jennings
Charles Carrol
Bridget Turner
Nat Turner
Ceasar Jones
Zack Edgefield
Francis Key
Bridget Turner
Nat Turner
Ceasar Jones
Zack Edgefield
Andrew Jackson
Chief Junaluska
John Ross
Bart Boone
Logan Morgan
Wesley Wyatt
Busty Adams
Preacher Virgil
Presiding Officer of the Senate
William Lloyd Garrison
Abraham Lincoln
William H Seward
V.P. Hannibal Hamlin
Salmon P Chaise
General Robert E Lee
Stonewall Jackson
Walter H Taylor
James Longstreet
Joseph Rodman Drake


Stars & Stripes Forever
Amazing Grace
Yankee Doodle
Star Spangl’d Banner
Nobody Knows The Trouble I’ve Seen
The Arkansas Traveller
A Native American Pow-wow
Banks of Sacramento
Wagon Wheel
Dear Evelina
The Southern Wagon
The Battle Hymn Of The Republic
The Star-Spang’d Banner

Instrumental: The Stars & Stripes Forever

SCENE 1: The Founding Fathers

The Stars & Stripes are flying high / Enter George Washington holding the Declaration of Independence

George Washington
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.

We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these united Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States, that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved

Enter John Adams

John Adams
Yesterday the greatest question was decided which ever was debated in America; and a greater perhaps never was, nor will be, decided among men. A resolution was passed without one dissenting colony, ‘that these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States. The Second Day of July 1776, will be the most memorable Epocha, in the History of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated, by succeeding Generations, as the great anniversary Festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the Day of Deliverance by solemn Acts of Devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more. You will think me transported with Enthusiasm but I am not. I am well aware of the Toil and Blood and Treasure, that it will cost Us to maintain this Declaration, and support and defend these States. Yet through all the Gloom I can see the Rays of ravishing Light and Glory. I can see that the End is more than worth all the Means. And that Posterity will tryumph in that Days Transaction, even altho We should rue it, which I trust in God We shall not.

Enter Samuel Adams

Samuel Adams
General Washington, my cousin, John Adams, & all the Americans gathered here under the eyes of God. Who among you, my countrymen, that is a parent, would claim authority to make your child a slave because you had nourished him in his infancy? No man had once a greater veneration for Englishmen than I entertained. They were dear to me as branches of the same parental trunk, and partakers of the same religion and laws; but when I am roused by the din of arms: when I behold legions of foreign assassins, paid by Englishmen to imbrue their hands in our blood: when I tread over the uncoffined bones of my countrymen, neighbors and friends: when I see the locks of a venerable father torn by savage hands, and a feeble mother, clasping her infants to her bosom, and on her knees imploring their lives; when I behold my country, once the seat of industry, peace, and plenty, changed by Englishmen to a theatre of blood and misery.

We have now no other alternative than independence, or the most ignominious and galling servitude. To unite the supremacy of Great Britain and the liberty of America, is utterly impossible. So vast a continent and of such a distance from the seat of empire will every day grow more unmanageable. The people of this country have formally and deliberately chosen a Government for themselves.

Enter Benjamin Franklin

Benjamin Franklin
George, John, Sam, Countrymen & Brethren. Does thou love life? Then do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of. Our revolution against a great power is well underway. The struggle is great but it is with little strokes that we fell great oaks. The axeman, General George Washington, leads our brave troops & I enjoy today what posterity will say of him. For a thousand leagues have nearly the same effect with a thousand years.

George Washington
Excuse me, gentlemen, I must take leave & rejoin the army

Exit Washington

Benjamin Franklin
We have now in the field armies sufficient to repel the whole force of our enemies. The hearts of our soldiers beat high with the spirit of freedom – they are animated with the justice of their cause, and while they grasp their swords, can look up to heaven for assistance.

Samuel Adams
Our Union is now complete; our constitution composed, established, and approved. You are now the guardians of your own liberties. We may justly address you, as the Decemviri did the Romans, and say – “Nothing that we propose can pass into a law without your consent. Be yourselves, O Americans, the authors of those laws on which your happiness depends.

John Adams
God Bless America

Samuel Adams & Benjamin Franklin
God Bless America

God bless America, land that I love
Stand beside her and guide her
Through the night with the light from above
From the mountains to the prairies
To the oceans white with foam
God bless America, my home sweet home

Exit Adams, Samuel Adams & Franklin / Enter the Spirit of America

As rivers whirr with bloodshed’s thick-red flow,
As wide plains ring with chivalry of sorts,
A monarch obstinate is made to know
America has flung him from the ports,
When since the surrender of Cornwallis,
No longer heel-kept subjects forced to be,
Grown citizens, not of the Colonies,
But thirteen states combin’d especially,
In state, in peace, whose, happy hearted zeal,
Has left old England’s egoistic heel.

All sides Jackflag of union down-torn,
Another crowns the steeples, hangs in bars,
A thing of beauty, Philadelphi born,
Of thirteen stripes; & in the canton, stars
Also thirteen – they’ll ever represent
A curlecued republic wrought anew,
Whose dedication plants a nation’s bed
That one day half-a-continent shall spread,
Whose sceptre’d glory, always, heaven-sent,
America’s commander-President.

Enter Washington

E Pluribus unum, out of many
Comes one, one came, still burns the perfect flame
His Excellency lit, unlike any
Before, or since, pprogenitor of fame
Who swears solemnly, with regal reserve,
To… “maintain with faithful execution
The office of President; to preserve
Protect & defend the constitution!”
As thirteen cannon flatter with salvos
George kiss’d his Bible as if sniff’d the rose.

I address you all today with the most ardent love that a Country can inspire in a man. The magnitude and difficulty of the trust to which the voice of our young nation called me, has instilled within me a duty to form just appreciations of every circumstance, by which we might be affected. It would be peculiarly improper to omit in this first official Act, my fervent supplications to that Almighty Being who rules over the Universe, who presides in the Councils of Nations, and whose providential aids can supply every human defect.

No People can be bound to acknowledge and adore the invisible hand, which conducts the Affairs of men more than the People of the United States. Every step, by which they have advanced to the character of an independent nation, seems to have been distinguished by some token of providential agency.

Since we ought to be no less persuaded that the propitious smiles of Heaven, can never be expected on a nation that disregards the eternal rules of order and right, which Heaven itself has ordained: And since the preservation of the sacred fire of liberty, and the destiny of the Republican model of Government, are justly considered as deeply, perhaps as finally staked, on the experiment entrusted to the hands of the American people.

Having thus imported to you my sentiments, as they have been awakened by the occasion which brings us together, I shall take my present leave; but not without resorting once more to the benign parent of the human race, in humble supplication that since he has been pleased to favour the American people, with opportunities for deliberating in perfect tranquility, and dispositions for deciding with unparellelled unanimity on a form of Government, for the security of their Union, and the advancement of their happiness; so his divine blessing may be equally conspicuous in the enlarged views, the temperate consultations, and the wise measures on which the success of this Government must depend.

Exit George Washington

SCENE 2: Mount Vernon

Martha Judge & her daughter Ona are working in the kitchen – they are singing Amazing Grace


Amazing grace, How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now I am found,
Was blind, but now I see.

‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
And grace my fears relieved.
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed.

The Lord has promised good to me
His word my hope secures;
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.

Amazing grace, How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now I am found,
Was blind, but now I see.

Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease
I shall possess within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.

Amazing grace, How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now I am found,
Was blind, but now I see.

Enter Martha Washington

Betty, what did I tell you about singing those common negro songs in my kitchen

I’m sorry Mrs Washington

Just carry on as you were, but in silence – my husband, your master, & your president, will be home any minute –

He’s gonna be needing a good feeding, ma’am

That’s right, now get to it

Ona & Betty get to work / Enter The Spirit of America

Up in the Big House, far from gloomy rooms,
Good mistress, Martha Washington, commands
The best domestics, Betty at the looms
True seamstress was, a needle in her hands
Conducted Verdi like swans on water;
Between them both, with eyes of beaming bronze,
Sits Ona Judge, Betty’s pretty daughter,
Who’s tying on the hat her master dons
For presidential meetings, ‘Look at me!’
She giggl’d, ‘I am noble, I am free!’

Enter George Washington, who sits down for his meal with Martha

I’ve sensed a certain slackness on their part,
If duty is not given by fair means
We must apply coercion, steel our heart
If trusted force be used, those brutal scenes
Deem rather proper, such impertinence
Should prosecuted be by public eye,
I’ll never trust a nigger – such pretence,
They’ whip each other softer than a fly –
But hand no more the whip to Hyland Crow,
He hates the negro & he lets them know.

My love, be sure, I’ll pass on your concerns,
But there is something else needs must attend,
In Pennsylvania most Blacks are free
& if a slave resides in that strange state
A full six months, they’ll earn their liberty,
An owner’s rights shall then lawfully end,
I heard that impudent huzzy, Betty,
Has been hollerin’ a storm of vain hope,
Thinkin’ Philadelphia is her fate –
I’d rather see her danglin’ from a rope.

The solution, as I plainly see it,
Always advise excuses to return
To our beloved homestead, so be it
Good & just for those wretches to learn
We own their fates, & if a slave believes
In six months freedom, let us leave in five,
I have no pity for these rogues & thieves;
Our apples, corn & meat here used to thrive,
While every time they serve a glass of wine
Those vultures guzzle two by shrewd design.

If you insist, my dear, but deep inside
I’m fluster’d by an ineffective sense
Of something waspish, this I can’t abide,
I see the white man by his picket fence,
Facing rough fields where black men labor long
In grating chains of slavery, rough-slapp’d,
I listen to the beauties of their song
& feel in them the soul of freedom trapp’d –
Our Union, & human dignity,
Depends on rootin’ out brute slavery.

There is a life to which the babe must yield,
My love, by fate or fortune, from its birth –
Tight-rooted wolfsbane, twisted in a field,
Or rhododendron of an arcade earth;
Ours was run plantations in Virginia,
Theirs, help us to run them by best means,
Let us unwaver from the linear,
Remembering to grow our maize & beans,
Leaving these problems to a future age
Whose abolitionists they’ll assuage.

As adolescence sweetens & matures,
The ragged hedge seems less persistent cage
For one young lass, struck by the world’s allures
Prepares the flit, & dares the bold outrage,
Prepares to make the river run uphill
Tonight’s the night she’ll escape Mount Vernon,
Out slip’t she thro’ the moonlit window sill
Her heart was poundin’, her fate was burnin’ –
Meanwhile, downstairs, the Washington’s did dine,
On lovely supper with a Bordeaux wine.

No more cotton snows of summer, no more
The snapping whip, no more the sodden hay
Soak’d thro’ with tears as men wept on the floor,
No more the dawnings of the Devil’s day,
Soon Ona Judge is crown’d a chain-free wife!
A mother & a child of God remade,
Happy to lead the lapse of her long life,
Without the threat of yet one more tirade –
She is American, her rights upstand,
To live by law, free worship, & buy land.

Stars & Stripes: Scenes 3-8

SCENE 3: The Canadian Border

Enter the Spirit of America

This stage in the age of global affairs
Sends Washington three substantial rivals;
The Mexicans strewn thro’ the arid South,
While East of Mississippi indogenes
Diminish in the folly of the peace
Extended them once happily, & find
Lands of an ancient sacredness desired
By greed-eyed hawks, while to the open north
The mystery of Canada extends,
Where Britain’s battle banner flutters free.

Enter a company of America Soldiers marching to war


Yankee Doodle went to town
A-riding on a pony,
Stuck a feather in his cap
And called it macaroni.

Yankee Doodle keep it up,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Mind the music and the step,
And with the girls be handy.

& YankeeI saw a swamping gun
Large as a log of maple,
Upon a deuced little cart,
A load for father’s cattle.

Yankee Doodle keep it up,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Mind the music and the step,
And with the girls be handy.

And every time he’ll shoot it off,
It took a horn of powder,
And made a noise like father’s gun,
Only a nation louder.

Yankee Doodle keep it up,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Mind the music and the step,
And with the girls be handy.

And there was Cap’n Washington,
And gentle folks about him;
They say he’s grown so ‘tarnal proud
He will not ride without ’em.

Yankee Doodle keep it up,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Mind the music and the step,
And with the girls be handy.

Yankee Doodle went to town
A-riding on a pony,
Stuck a feather in his cap
And called it macaroni.

Election year, of course, had come around,
The President was losing in the polls
What better than a military jaunt
To rouse indifferent voters for him,
Upon his chest pin Washingtonian
Glory – upon some mercantile pretext,
To Canada he marches mobile arms,
Wasting the properties of Britishers,
So savage act has painted scarlet lines,
Of battle-harden’d veterans of war.

A battle scene between The Americans & the British sees an American retreat.

SCENE 4: The Executive Mansion, Washington

The First Lady, Dolly Madison is with the gardener, John McGraw, John Souissat & her manservant, Paul Jennings

Paul Jennings
I’ve never heard a noise like I’ve just heard,
It seems the Devil’s stepp’d out of his den
& hurl’d his fire & brimstone at our boys,
Strange, infernal, terrifying rockets
Flew at our lines, men dropp’d their muskets, ran
Faster than when a storm’s burst overhead
& you might be one half-mile outta home,
Knowing if you’d sprint back you’d keep best dry –
Faster than that – sweet life was in account;
Ah Carrol comes, he’ll add to my telling.

Charles Carrol
Mrs Madison, Mrs Madison,
I bring ya’ll tidings, with a weeping heart;
The British are coming, a regatta
Of frigates, sloops & schooners; they have fought
A battle up at Bladenburg, they’ve drove
Our legion from the field, twas like a race –
But flight has grown essential, you should flee
The capital, who knows what they’ll enact?
I’ve heard they’re furious at poisonous
Whiskey folks left when emptying the farms.

John McGraw
I say we should sing rally songs & fight,
All thro’ this war we’ve whipp’d the Old Country,
How dare those confounded sarpants anchor
In these fair waters, barges of arm’d men
Frighten good families, all tarnations
To them & their Tory machinations,
I might be Scots-bred but I dare not care
For London’s turpid guile, aye, long erewhile
The Jacobites were brutally repress’d,
Let’s fight, I say, these insults pay with blood.

John Souissat
The city is abandoned by soldiers,
Most ignominiously, officers
Have simply vanished; a sauve qui pert
Situation has arisen, & I
Do not intend to fight these men alone;
I urge you, Mrs President, no sense
There is in staying put, with graceful air
Greet enemies with fineries of state –
Risk grows too great, they might be gentlemen
But you are our First Lady, Heaven sent.

Dolly Madison
Oh! Very well, we’ll go, but not before
The Landsdowne portrait safely pack’d away,
It would become an Eagle of the French
Fallen in English hands, to be uphung
In some captain of Surrey’s sitting room,
No! Break the frame, the screws too tight to move
Within this tiny time, boys break the frame!
Get to it, & then roll the canvas smooth,
Boys, whisk it up to New York ’til the day
We’ll stand back in this room, & unafraid!

SCENE 5: Washington

Enter the Spirit of America & British Redcoats

Into the place where this strange war began
By jeers, & cheers, & strokes of inky pen,
A place of magnificent distances,
March the British, whose sharpshooter surprise
Ensures an onset of grim destruction
That has begun already, blazing glow
Floats oer an empty city, in whose streets
Flames surge up doors & windows; nothing spar’d
Whose noblest part, tho’ gutted, parch’d & black,
Defiant stands to dreadful damages!

Arise yon Phoenix palace from the flames,
Emulsion’d in purest absolution,
A promise heaven-sworn in every heart
That beats American; ‘never again
Shall foreign sov’reigns & their armies lord
Among our sacred capital,’ a song
Erewhile composed by captive, Francis Key,
Watching by Baltimore Fort Henry fall,
But soak’d in British blood, him very first
To sing ‘Star Spangl’d Banner’ from the heart.

Francis Key is composing a poem while imprisoned in the belly of a British ship

Francis Key
Let me see that start again… hmmm, yes, By the dawn’s early light, lah-de-dah-de we hailed, at the twilight’s first dreaming – No ! – last… gleaming, yes, that has the ring


Oh say can you see,
By the dawn’s early light,
What so proudly we hailed,
At the twilight’s last gleaming?

Whose broad stripes and bright stars,
Through the perilous fight,
O’er the ramparts we watched,
Were so gallantly streaming.

And thy rocket’s red glare,
Thy bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through thee night,
That our flag was still there.

Oh say does that star spangled banner yet wave,
O’er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.

Just before Christmas the Treaty of Ghent
Free sign’d; dwindle shadows of man’s ravage,
Reason prevails, an unwinnable war,
Suspended was uti possidetis,
Territory mutually restor’d,
As each side of a Continental line
Two nations branding landage eternal,
Americans, Canadians, at peace
For evermore, ancestrally allied,
Like sisters settl’d on their mother’s street.

SCENE 6: A cottonfield in the Southampton.

The slaves are singing as they work


Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Nobody knows my sorrow
& Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Glory hallelujah

Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Nobody knows but Jesus {my sweet Jesus}
Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Glory hallelujah
{Nobody Knows}

Sometimes I’m up, sometimes I’m down
Oh, yes my lord
Sometimes I’m almost to the ground
Oh, oh yes lord

A voice in me is going on slow
Well yes, my lord
& I’ll have my trials heal’d below
O yes lord!

Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Nobody knows but Jesus
Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Glory hallelujah

Oh, every day to you I pray
Oh, yes Lord
For you to drive my sins away
Oh, yes Lord

Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Nobody knows but Jesus
Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Glory hallelujah

Well yes the devil asked me so
Why & why
Cos he asked me once & he let me
Let you go

Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Nobody knows but Jesus
Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Glory hallelujah

Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Nobody knows but Jesus
Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Glory hallelujah

Solo (slow)
Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Nobody knows my sorrow
& Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Glory hallelujah

The workers in the field transform into slaves, chained in the hold of an Atlantic ship – to one side the young Nat Turner is listening to his grandmother, Bridget

The drums, the dancing, the songs, the singing
Were gone – neck-rings, thumbscrews, clinking chains
Were all – hands full of diamonds here wringing
Flesh in dreadful compacts, & as we fused
Pandemonium unveil’d; tears, disease,
Thirst, coughs & curses, far from soft embrace
Of family, kept by smugging mantis,
‘Must keep the Cargo fit,‘ up to seabreeze
Them set to dance, passionless, lacking grace,
To strangest strains of Arkansas shanties.

Several slaves are made to dance to the music of the ill-mannered sailors – the piece is the ARKANSAS TRAVELER by Joe Clark

Dance, nigger dance! move them dirty feet or I’ll hack ’em both right off

Enter the Spirit of America

Nat Turner sat dumbstruck as granny told
Amazing stories of Africky youth,
Of sailing endless ocean in the hold
Of some spice-ship; into the dark, uncouth
Chains of slave-living, of ravens & scorn,
Nat loved to hear of the lion’s roaring
Watch granny’s right arm swinging like a trunk,
He yearn’d to see the land from which them torn –
Then, when the whole plantation was snoring,
He read his Bible, silent as a monk.

Nat, into major manhood burns each day,
But brutal barbs of slavery all hearts
Have penetrated deep, the cruel flay
Of beatings; as Nat’s bedstead curtain parts
An overseer drags him from his bed
& kicks him with contemptuousity,
Like drunkards booting mutts across the floor;
“Master,” says Nat, “tho you may beat me dead,
My dying breath shall bring eternity,
& Jesus all my liberties restore.”

SCENE 7 : Southampton County

Nat Turner is gather’d with several fellow slaves

Nat Turner
Men, hear me now, this step once wonder’d at,
Flung irreversible twyx steep & lane,
Shall fly just like a leaping thundercat
Namore shall we be forced to work in rain,
Half-starv’d, half-naked, backs cowskin-shredded,
Life drain’d by immental bloodhounds who’ve made
Organised conspiracies to oppress
Our freedom’s right; God in me’s embedded
A sulling soul no beatin’ could degrade,
Willing to burst its physical duress.

Ceasar Jones
Ah aint so sure, ah’ve heard most grievous tales
Of those up in the North, of runaways’
Deplorable conditions, mischievous
Thieves; angst & angry hunger blight their days;
My master told me so, the same I heard
From Little Obie, who last year return’d,
Long complaining that a cold potato,
Was all he ate all day; Nat, its absurd
To risk such sufferance, when I have learn’d
Rough fate awaits us, thus I cannot go.

Nat Turner
Such lies have thread the rope that binds thy mind,
The truth is very different, they cuff
& beat us, keep our hungers close behind,
Til buried doglike in the scour-box rough –
They’ll drip the boiling porkfat on our backs,
They’ll dare not feed us well, nor clothe us warm,
Just gruel & trousers coarsely hack’d from sacks,
Else dreams of comfort, freedom, might intrude –
Atrocity accepted is the norm,
When each day find they barbary more crude.

Zack Edgefield
I hear ya Nat, let us not be like beast;
Hunted, penn’d in some inglorious spot,
While round us barking, slaverdogs releas’d,
Have made a mock at our determin’d lot;
I’m with ya man, we fight a common foe
I’d die for just one moment to be brave,
With battle join’d, by ye on the attack,
Sound, sound the horn & I shall gladly go,
Better to settle in a rebel grave,
Than spend my life serving a maniac

Nat Turner
The White Man preaches he be Christian,
Believe me when I say they live in Hell,
From slavery, nothing but corruption,
All-pervading comes, some licentious spell
Shall vitiate slaveholders & their sons
In lusty visitations thro’ the night,
While mistresses pretend a pantomime
All dwell in dire dens of dead illusions
Which ravages our soul, our children blight,
Aye fight we must, each day no better time.

The morning sun is burning bluish-green,
A signal for the slaughterworks to come,
Large hoard of Danite slaves charge to a scene
Where Free Blacks also beat the Akan drum,
As Turner quotes good scriptures & the psalms,
From field-to-field men set their brethren free,
Hatchets, knives & axes send wounds to work,
No paleskin spared, not even babes-in-arms,
As from the mental depths where torments lurk
With righteous, violent fury vengeance rose.

Nat Turner’s soul flew free for sixty days,
As if him angel vapours in a glade,
But like a wee mouse mither’d by a maze,
They dragg’d him from the hole, him swift displayed
On trial, tho’ the verdict all well knew,
When ask’d did he regret things Nat replied
‘Was Christ not crucified,‘ then he did hang,
His corpse was flay’d, beheaded, axes drew
Flesh-bloody quarters, then the knife applied,
As oer Jerusalem the Angels sang!

“The mad dog is dead,” white folks triumph’d home
To irreligious brothels of that vice
Quite wicked, like the civic stain of Rome,
Lusting to enslave all the world’s races;
Shaming progressive lands of libertie,
A country’s fabric bulging at the seams,
The mantra, ‘All made equal,‘ most forget
& yet, as Nat did strike his blameless blow
He’s show the Negro shares a nation’s dreams,
When one of them may walk the West Wing yet.

Scene 8: A sacred pow-wow dance by native Americans

Stars & Stripes: SCENES 9-14

Scene 9 : Washington

Andrew Jackson’s office / enter Cherokee elders with the Spirit of America

I’ll tell you the tale of the Trail of Tears
& the guile of action-minded Jackson,
The Cherokee proclaim him Big White Chief,
Who calls them ‘Children’ with paternal words,
‘As the Cherokee tribe of Indian,’
Are living east of great Mississippi,
In the midst of a white population,
Your dwelling places & your people poor, Hungry, your game dissappeared, your young men
All turn’d to drink, to go… not if but when’

Chief Junaluska
Your seven thousand troops of cruel blue
Came in a friendless, condescending raid,
It was the end of all they ever knew,
Limitless horizons block’d by stockade;
By emigration depots like Fort Cass
& Ross’s landing at Chattanooga;
I weep, I weep, I weep at how things pass,
I had fought at Horse Shoe like a cougar,
From tomahawks I sav’d your life that day,

Andrew Jackson
Your fate is seal’d is all that I can say.

Exit the elders

As Andrew Jackson skims the morning news
In stately home, overlooking water,
His conscience takes good care to not confuse
These vital relocations for slaughter;
Lament the Delaware, the Ottowa,
The Creek, the Chickasaw, the Cherokee,
The Potawatomi, the Iowa,
The Shawnee, the Fox & the Miami –
Persuaded by men of high distinction
Reservations better than extinction!

Such was the birth-lay of America,
Eugenics knocks mercy from its garments
& kicks it beyond the tectonica,
Like toothless hobos shooting at varmints,
Vultures hover over ancient nations
The spirits of the shaman flee the fate
Brutal cultural obliterations
Six hundred wagons, roofless, rude, await
A thousand miles of misery, a trail
Of tyranny if pregnant, ageing, frail.

SCENE 10: Little Rock Arkansas

Upon the Trail of Tears, the Cherokee elders are deep in conversation

Chief Junaluska
Dear John, Mysterious Little White Bird,
Your wife is with the Spirit of the Sky,
Creator Unetlanuhi has heard
Good woman was she, tears divine he’ll cry,
To hear how Old Man Winter’s rearing head,
Outblew the freezing sneeze like sleet & snow,
The paths of pain were raining with the dead,
A sick child lacking blanket from the blow
Your wife did witness, passing on her cloak,
She froze to death & on the ice did choke.

John Ross
My love I buried in an unmark’d grave
Beside the bitter road, I curse him named
Bad Jackson, tho’ his better men did save
Our soveriegnity, that reptile shamed
His race, his word, his country & his law;
Whose false treaty’s sacred appellations
Us overwhelms, however we implore,
Re-iterated with protestations
That Worcester versus Georgia, ‘Thirty-Two,’
Annuls the Lo Va Sa, what can we do?

The dark of night nears midpoint of the sky,
By dawn we’ll all be stars lost in fabric,
I’ve asked the Thunderboys the reason why
Life bedevils us torrid & tragic,
Diminish’d by Europe’s greedy vices,
Whose spirits only dance to drunken jigs,
When camst the Sioux we painted our faces,
But now the Judge of Battle’s wearing wigs,
Reducing us into this sorry state,
Too tired, too hungry am I them to hate.

John Ross
They came to us like locusts on the breeze,
Despoiling fields ancestors never spoil’d,
So many more shall cross the many seas
With all their hunger & their hates uncoil’d;
Alone, beside the moon, my spirit cries,
The graves of all our fathers leave behind,
But let us not regret this, lets devise
A better future fit to keep our kind,
If west of Mississippi must we be
Let us lead there, at least, our dignity.

The spiritwind our guide has always been,
From Galunlati blowing thro’ our hearts,
Just yesterday an Eaglesflight I’d seen –
A memory of when we lived apart,
But then I’d heard gunshots slay an eagle
& watch’d the possums gnaw it to the bone –
This dream replicated an illegal
& crude theft – posterity must atone
When an elected president shall be
Like me, at least, a portion Cherokee.

Scene 11: A ship – the crew are on deck singing


A bully ship and a bully crew,
Doo-da! Doo-da!
A bully mate and a captain, too,
Doo-da! Doo-da-day!

Then blow, ye winds, hi-oh,
For Californ-i-o,
There’s plenty of gold, so I’ve been told,
On the banks of Sacramento!

Oh, heave, my lads, oh heave and sing,
Doo-da! Doo-da!
Oh, heave and make those oak sticks sing
Doo-da! Doo-da-day!

Then blow, ye winds, hi-oh,
For Californ-i-o,
There’s plenty of gold, so I’ve been told,
On the banks of Sacramento!

Oh, around the Horn we shipped to go,
Doo-da! Doo-da!
Around Cape Horn, through ice and snow
Doo-da! Doo-da-day!

Then blow, ye winds, hi-oh,
For Californ-i-o,
There’s plenty of gold, so I’ve been told,
On the banks of Sacramento!

Oh, around the Horn the mainsail set
Doo-da! Doo-da!
Around Cape Horn, we’re wringing wet
Doo-da! Doo-da-day!

Then blow, ye winds, hi-oh,
For Californ-i-o,
There’s plenty of gold, so I’ve been told,
On the banks of Sacramento!

SCENE 12: Busty’s Saloon Bar, Independence, Missouri

Bart Boone
Hey Boys! My Boys! They’ve found Eldorado,
Coloma soils be sparkling & aglow,
There’s so much gold the mules can hardly move,
The mines seem inexhaustable, they’ll prove
Enough there is for everyone’s desire,
One morning’s work & then we might retire,
A place call’d Sutter’s Mill I heard them say,
Across the West in Californ-I-A
I go tomorrow, boys, who’d like to share
The road by me, two’s better to beware.

Logan Morgan
America, land of our teeming dreams,
Her treasures lying open in the streams,
I read a letter only yesterday
That said as much, my old friend Thomas Grey,
Describin’ gold glitterin’ in sandbars,
As if the sky was wonderwick with stars,
There’s gold-dust drifting like the desert dunes,
He scoop’d up with his jack-knife & his spoons,
Tho’ dangerous & distant one might dare
A monetary miracle out there.

Wesley Wyatt
I’d love to go but, damn, how could I go?
I lost a leg with Lee down Mexico,
Your mining’s but a dog’s life, not for me
That hard, unrewarded monotony;
No letters comin’ in or goin’ out,
After a week yer mind’s w just spins with doubt
Of ever seeing womankind again,
Then one’s come sixty miles away, by train –
& so you’ll hike all day like mountain goats
To see her pretty-sitting petticoats.

Busty Adams
In that case boys I’m comin’ down as well,
A clever woman is the feather’d belle
That keeps such things together day-by-day,
Those men will need to eat, & they’ll right pay
Good money for a proper meal, & hot,
& other things I know that might be got;
& boys, ye’d better hurry to the feast,
For Chinamen & Hindoos from the East
Are sailin’ the Pacific as we speak,
Great fortune comes for those whom fortunes seek!

Preacher Virgil
The madness of our nation dost begin,
I urge ye not to join that ship of sin,
Such chaos offers caflugality
Via greed’s insatiable insanity,
As fathers & fiances leave the flock
Unguarded, evil here must run amok,
While far away tour menfolk retrograde
Thro’ gambling, drinking, swearing: a parade
Thro’ all the circles Dante did descend,
T’where Satan calls the sinner ‘only friend.’

SCENE 13: Philadelphia

Enter the Spirit of America

As eighty thousand find a fresh abode
Out in the West, they’ll need a civil code;
Extending, there, Missouri’s compromise;
South of the Thirty-Six & Thirty lies
A lunacy of evil men in rows,
Perpetuating slavery, oppose
All poison to the life-blood of the South,
Who’d rip the tongue out of baby’s mouth
To stop it crying freedom; while they hold
The Senate, slaves in southern states are sold.

Enter Southern senators

“This is the long-postpon’d attack on rights
& property, with all its scurvy sleights,”
Drawl big mouths of the south, in unison,
America’s entangl’d opinion,
Says reckoning’s a-coming, high ideals
Clash with a stubborn business, which reveals
Hypocrits preaching in Jesus’s name
While keeping human cattle, whom to tame
Would beat to death, despite the sacred page
That urges universal love each age !

Presiding Officer of the Senate
The American Anti-Slavery Society will hear Mr William Lloyd Garrison

William Lloyd Garrison
Senators of America – you take your seats in this house under the flag of our great nation – but wherever our jurisdiction extends, wherever our flag floats, it is the flag of slavery. The stars are the chains & the stripes are the scourge. In truth, our flag should have the light of the stars & the streaks of the morning red erased from it; it should be dyed black, & upon it paint the whip & the fetter

More than fifty-seven years have elapsed since a band of patriots convened in this place, to devise measures for the deliverance of this country from a foreign yoke. The corner-stone upon which is founded the Temple of Freedom was broadly this—that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, LIBERTY, and the pursuit of happiness. At the sound of that trumpet-call, three millions of people rose up as from the sleep of death, and rushed to the strife of blood; deeming it more glorious to die instantly as freemen, than desirable to live one hour as slaves.—They were few in number—poor in resources; but the honest conviction that Truth, Justice, and Right were on their side, made them invincible.

But those, for whose emancipation we are striving,—constituting at the present time at least one-sixth part of our countrymen,—are recognised by the laws, and treated by their fellow beings, as marketable commodities—as goods and chattels—as brute beasts;—are plundered daily of the fruits of their toil without redress;—really enjoy no constitutional nor legal protection from licentious and murderous outrages upon their persons;—are ruthlessly torn asunder—the tender babe from the arms of its frantic mother—the heart-broken wife from her weeping husband—at the caprice or pleasure of irresponsible tyrants;—and, for the crime of having a dark complexion, suffer the pangs of hunger, the infliction of stripes, and the ignominy of brutal servitude. They are kept in heathenish darkness by laws expressly enacted to make their instruction a criminal offence.

The right to enjoy liberty is inalienable. We ust strive with every sinew of body & mind to overthrow the most execrable system of slavery that has ever been witnessed upon earth—to deliver our land from its deadliest curse—to wipe out the foulest stain which rests upon our national escutcheon—and to secure to the colored population of the United States all the rights and privileges which belong to them as men and as Americans—come what may to our persons, our interests, or our reputations—whether we live to witness the triumph of Justice, Liberty, and Humanity, or perish untimely as martyrs in this great, benevolent and holy cause.

SCENE 14: A Virginia Plantation

While slaves purify cotton in the kitchen, their overseers are playing a song


Heading down south to the land of the pines
I’m walking the coast into North Caroline
Staring at the road in the shadow of faeire farmlights
As I made it all the way thro’ wind, sun & showers
I pick me a bouquet of dogwood flowers
I’m a-hoping for Raleigh, I can see my baby tonight

So rock me mama like a wagon wheel
Rock me mama any way you feel
Hey mama rock me
Rock me mama like the wind and the rain
Rock me mama like a south bound train
Hey mama rock me

Running from the cold up in New England
I was born to be a fiddler in an old time string band
My baby plays guitar, I pick a banjo now
Oh, north country winters keep a-getting me down
Lost my money playing poker so I had to leave a-town
But I ain’t turning back to living that old life no more

So rock me mama like a wagon wheel
Rock me mama any way you feel
Hey mama rock me
Rock me mama like the wind and the rain
Rock me mama like a south bound train
Hey mama rock me

Moonshine running on Virginian sand
Stars lie dotted on the promised land
Now she’s been heading East since the Cumberland gap
From Johnson City, Tennessee
I got to get a move on ‘at the fall of the sun
My baby call my name an’know she’s the only one
And if I die in Raleigh I will die free

So rock me mama like a wagon wheel
Rock me mama any way you feel
Hey mama rock me
Oh rock me mama like the wind and the rain
Rock me mama like a south bound train
Hey hey mama rock me…

Enter the Spirit of America

Where backwoodsmen croon songs in bad Saxon
A good gooselocker plucks tight fibres full,
Else face abundant lashings, score-on-score;
Rogue pickaninnie days bore long & dull,
Spread thirteen in a circle on a floor
‘Til corn-mush setting sun,
When owners’ damnable proclivity
For perfum’d, so velvety, soft-black skin –
Down Virginia way Negro rape’s no sin –
Conducted with strange sensitivity.

A baby, Evelina, is born to the cotton farmer & a female slave

The necessity of our biracial
Instinct for vital cross-pollination
Brings whites & blacks together, from them born
Beauties of Our future Human Nation,
Them call’d Mulatto! Hid from social scorn
‘Til dies her palatial
Father, she’ll soon discover she’s a slave,
Given to bottle-quaffing overseers
Unholiness, unhappiness for years,
‘Gan cutting sugar-cane until the grave.

Stars & Stripes: SCENES 15-17

SCENE 15: Virginia

Moses, a northern gentleman, is visiting an old student friend, Alexander, in the south. They are touring a plantation with another southern gentleman called Julius

Welcome to my Lake Prasias, & I
Am Alexander, master of my mine,
Only a thousand acres of good land,
About a manor-house, situated fine,
A hundred negroes, & a spritely band
Of friends to pass time by
With a large lib’ry all I’ll ever need –
Down here slavery’s indispensable,
I find your ways incomprehensible,
My friend, we think it better to secede.

Aye, look at how the Cuffees smile & wave
Whenever we ride by them; ‘Nigger Jones
& Nigger Solomon, a fine morning
To y’all…’ Moses, the North’s propp’d up by loans
But all we hope for here, every dawning
Is work, freeman & slave;
Easy it seems to criticize our ways,
But this is how it works down here, & work
It definitely does, for who dare shirk
Beneath the sphinx that is their master’s gaze.

I beg your understanding my brothers,
But traveling the South my soul is strain’d
You say these men contented with their lot
But how can one seize change when one is chain’d?
I’m seeing, it seems, a Gordian Knot –
Me & worried mothers
Who fear the woeful sword-arm words of War,
Fearing betrayal of Christian feelings
Are hoping Senatorial dealings
All natural equalities restore.

That may be what they’re thinkin’ with the frosts,
But struggle Blacks up there for rooves & food,
While here, in these Christian plantations,
The spirit from the savage is unglued,
Allowing its moral elevations;
Shining, living ripostes
To the sneerings of your superiors,
Unfortunately heavily misled,
A negro’s happy working & well fed,
Befitting intellect’s inferiors!

Alex, your peculiar institution,
I never can praise, if it does persist,
A fight there’ll be ’til slavery is drain’d
Of all its force (those lips they must be kiss’d,
Those peachy cheeks vermillion ingrain’d
My soul’s absolution!);
Brothers, who’s that fascinating slave-girl
With eyes of leaping deer? (Luminous rich
In me I feel that rampant red-hot itch
To see her hair’s long gloss without a curl!)

‘Neath celestial gaze was Moses bent,
Begs his host to take home Evelina,
Of course this was refus’d in jiffin flash,
But when the man that all the world dost comb
Then soulmate finds, they’ll rabid be, & rash,
That night to her he went –
The door is open, the master away,
As Samson from his Gazan whore departs
At midnight, & the waiting trap outsmarts,
Let liberty flee from the barns today!

They eloped all night, Northerner & Slave,
He lustful, she sensing ends of despair,
Whose crime was race, her perfect facial hue,
To some a blatant shade more dark than fair,
As thro’ the swamps a fugitive she flew,
Down pathways wild & brave
Into the rugged space that loves the soul
They fled by night, by day they doss like mice,
With free & onward impulse flight did roll
Towards the Big North Star that leads to Paradise.

She steps into a blaze of sight & sound,
Bearded bounty hunters crawl every kerb,
New Bedford’s abolitionist stronghold
The machinations of the South perturb,
Whose graduates no longer can be sold,
Stood on this holy ground,
Diplomas etch-scarr’d in their very backs –
Just an hour since stepping off the carriage
A lady & her rescuer seal marriage
With sterile kiss, for now, til daylight starr’d.

They woke up lovers in a handsome bed,
He drew the flaxen curtains back, & wide,
Celebrating thrice, they’d outwitted
The South, will all its puerile poison pride;
& now them married, she manumitted,
So many tears were shed
Last night as she made love to him & love
It was, tho’ less desire & more to please
A ‘friend’ who’d saved her life… soft summer’s breeze
Indrifts thro’ large bay windows, from above.


Way down in the meadow where the lily first blows,
Where the wind from the mountains ne’er ruffles the rose;
Lives fond Evelina, the sweet little dove,
The pride of the valley, the girl that I love.
Dear Evelina, sweet Evelina,
My love for thee shall never, never die.
Dear Evelina, sweet Evelina,
My love for thee shall, never, never die.

She’s soft as a rose, like a lamb she is meek,
And she never was known to put paint on her cheek;
In the most graceful curls hangs her raven black hair,
And she never requires perfumery there.
Dear Evelina, sweet Evelina,
My love for thee shall never, never die.
Dear Evelina, sweet Evelina,
My love for thee shall, never, never die.

Evelina and I, one fine evening in June,
Took a walk all alone by the light of the moon.
The planets all shone, for the heavens were clear,
And I felt round the heart most tremendously queer.
Dear Evelina, sweet Evelina,
My love for thee shall never, never die.
Dear Evelina, sweet Evelina,
My love for thee shall, never, never die.

Three years have gone by, since the day that I saw her
& still every day I’ll do anything for her
Shes pretty & savvy, she’s cunning & clever
I’ve sworn that I’ll love her for ever and ever.
Dear Evelina, sweet Evelina,
My love for thee shall never, never die.
Dear Evelina, sweet Evelina,
My love for thee shall, never, never die.

Fruit falls from flowing orchards, this nation
Bless’d with abundance, broad bays full of fish,
There are fiddles, music, there is dancing,
But there is future’s mad convulsive coil
Wrapp’d about a bulbous, prime-for-lancing
Boil, desperate to burst;
Parisians applauded Libertie
As we have too, but as a man begats
A child upon a woman, bureaucrats
Determine if that child enchain’d or free!

A storm is coming & the hour is late,
Lincoln’s stove pipe flung gladly to that ring,
Where clear majorities of each free state
Thro’ Electoral College crowns him king;
Inauguration day feels very wrong,
Sharpshooter rooves, groove cannons guard the grounds,
While raucous New Yorkers, one million strong,
Await the next day’s daily, as newshounds
Down-scribble Lincoln’s verbal bravery
“I’ll stand by my duty to end all slavery!”

SCENE 16: Washington DC

President Abraham Lincoln assembles his first cabinet meeting

Sate stoic in heroic cabinet,
A fine welcome gentlemen, each solid stone;
Like the schisming sons of Mahomet
Our country inharmonious has grown,
So let us ban all states from secession
Tho’ bloodshed leaves a streak’d red in its drag,
I would embrace my assassination
Before a single star torn from this flag –
The question of the slaves lets leave for now,
Until the South is muzzl’d – but, men, how?

William H Seward
Yes, Mr President, live up to we must
The requirements of these higher stations,
Held with grave honour & the nation’s trust,
Push rivalries aside, & pretensions,
Press thro’ the resulting referendum
That set ye first among us to unseat
Dark princes of bondage, we shall send ’em
Back to Hell, daemon rebels in defeat,
When nothing short of total victory
Shall set this nation’s future truly free

V.P. Hannibal Hamlin
Gentlemen, gentlemen, be careful please,
The South’s fighting spirit mighty vicious,
Their politicians ruthless with real ease,
Cold as lizards, Lucifer ambitious,
Determin’d to found future settlements
More than lily-white, each stagnating pool,
For this lets stand, at last, like statesmen hence,
Drag fickle, eager mischief to life’s school,
From lounging on verandas in the shade
Perpetuating slavery’s dog-craz’d trade.

Salmon P Chaise
Tho’ nations may off-tangent time to time
Are strain’d vendettas better to avoid?
When understanding duty flows sublime
Thro’ dangerous intensities employ’d,
The South’s fire-eating nationalism
Doth hurry them for wars in golden glee,
Happy to contend a cataclysm
From whose sure slaughter all the old ghosts flee,
Whom each midwinter Valley Forge convene
In phantom conversations flesh unseen.

This union perpetual – it is so!
No state has any right to self-withdraw,
Let our stern protestations melt the snow
Which covers up the South’s unsacred flaw,
That is to make a newborn babe a slave –
For this they’d carve the land’s vivisection
Let passions rage on heart’s shore wave on wave –
Better that mystic memories’ affection,
Patriot-forg’d on battlefields so young,
Compose a common chorus, by all-comers sung.

Enter the Spirit of America

There’ll be no going back, this damag’d land
A mad experiment gone badly wrong,
Must push some reset button – understand
There’ll be no slave-hymns in its unborn song,
Now enter Lee, a general by name,
Pacing Arlington’s corridors perplex’d,
A Union command was his for fame,
To take it, tho’, his soul grows heavy vex’d,
& knows his sword could never draw in arms
Against native Virginian towns & farms.

SCENE 17: The Front

Enter General Lee at the head of the Confederate Army


General Lee
Come, all ye sons of freedom, and join our Southern band,
We are going to fight the enemy and drive them from our land.
Justice is our motto and providence our guide,
So jump on the wagon, and we’ll all take a ride.

Wait for the wagon! The dissolution wagon!
The South is the wagon, and we’ll all take a ride.
Wait for the wagon! The dissolution wagon!
The South is the wagon, and we’ll all take a ride.

Secession is our watchword, our rights we all demand;
To defend our family, we pledge our hearts and hands;
Jeff Davis is our president, with Stephens by his side;
Brave Beauregard, our General, will join us in the ride.
Wait for the wagon! The dissolution wagon!
The South is the wagon, and we’ll all take a ride.
Wait for the wagon! The dissolution wagon!
The South is the wagon, and we’ll all take a ride.

Our wagon is big enough, the running gear is good;
Stuffed ’round the sides with cotton, and made of Southern wood.
Carolina is the driver, with Georgia by her side,
Virginia holds the flag up, and we’ll all take a ride.
Wait for the wagon! The dissolution wagon!
The South is the wagon, and we’ll all take a ride.
Wait for the wagon! The dissolution wagon!
The South is the wagon, and we’ll all take a ride.

There are Tennessee and Texas also in the ring;
They wouldn’t have a government where cotton wasn’t king.
Alabama and Florida have long ago replied;
Mississippi and Louisiana are anxious for the ride.
Wait for the wagon! The dissolution wagon!
The South is the wagon, and we’ll all take a ride.
Wait for the wagon! The dissolution wagon!
The South is the wagon, and we’ll all take a ride.

North Carolina and Arkansas are slow,
They must hurry or we’ll leave e’m and then where would they go?
Kentucky and Maryland each won’t make up their mind,
So I reckon after all we’ll have to take e’m up behind.
Wait for the wagon! The dissolution wagon!
The South is the wagon, and we’ll all take a ride.
Wait for the wagon! The dissolution wagon!
The South is the wagon, and we’ll all take a ride.

Tennessee Missouri are eager for the fray;
They can whip the Yankee boys three to one, they say;
And when they get in conflict with Davis by their side,
They’ll pitch into the Yankee boys and then you’ll see them slide.
Wait for the wagon! The dissolution wagon!
The South is the wagon, and we’ll all take a ride.
Wait for the wagon! The dissolution wagon!
The South is the wagon, and we’ll all take a ride.

Exit the Confederates / Enter the Union army led by Stonewall Jackson


Stonewall Jackson
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword;
His truth is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps;
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps,
His day is marching on.

I have read His fiery gospel writ in rows of burnished steel!
“As ye deal with my contemners, so with you My grace shall deal!
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,”
Since God is marching on.

He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat;
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him; be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me;
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free!
While God is marching on.

The stumbling, fumbling Union advance
To meet the foe in blood’s effusion cold,
Upon the field men take a handsome stance,
With limbs & hearts so beautiful & bold,
But stop! What is that sound that stuns the soul,
Like feedback from a concert’s microphones,
The rebel foxhunt yell, the banshee squall,
Driving corkscrew sensations up backbones,
Enhastening the deaths of razzl’d youth,
Via carnage raging, chastening, uncouth.

Enter the charging Confederates / battle begins

The national edifice is on fire,
At last the past is heap’d upon a pyre
Those utterances of grief & despair
First heard at Manassas’ murderous maul
Transmorph into clarions everywhere,
“Fight for your country, boys, men heed the call!”
Up in the North the Stars & Stripes are flown
From home to home, ‘the flag that makes you free,’
Sing epauletted brothers to the zone
Of war, fateful days face futurity,
As manacle still into human bites
God’s truth filling with anima of knights
At Shiloh fandango daffodillies,
One hundred thousand cramm’d in tension taut,
Tennessee’s dense, tense, teocallic woods
Explode with unexpected confrontations,
Sickening spectacles, kill or be kill’d,
Until Night’s onset halts halts this cranage crude
Hawks schnibbling into mangl’d death-bed flesh.

Enter Thomas, a Union Soldier, who finds the body of James, his comrade, on the field

I am a soldier and my speech is rough and plain
I’m not much used to writing and I hate to give you pain
But I promised I would do it and he thought it might be so
If it came from one who loved him it perhaps would ease the blow
& by this time you must have guessed the truth I fain will hide
And you’ll pardon me for rough soldier words while I tell you how he died

It was in the mortal battle, it rained the shot and shell
I was standing close beside him and I saw him when he fell
So I took him in my arms and laid him on the grass
It was going against orders but they thought to let it pass

“This day I wanted so to live, I seemed so young to go.
This week I passed my birthday. I was just nineteen, you know.
When I thought of all I planned to do it seemed so hard to die
But now I pray to God for grace and all my cares gone by.”

And here his voice grew weaker as he partly raised his head
And whispered

“Goodbye, mother,” and your soldier boy was dead

I carved another headboard as skillful as I could
And if you wish to find it I can tell you where it stood
I send you back his hymn book and the cap he used to wear
The lock I cut the night before of his bright, curly hair
I send you back his Bible. In the hour before he died
I turned its leaves together and read it by his side
I’ll keep the belt he was wearing, he told me so to do
It had a hole upon the side just where the ball went through

So now I’ve done his bidding, there’s nothing more to tell
But I shall always mourn with you the boy we loved so well

Stars & Stripes: SCENES 18-21

Scene 18: Washington

President Lincoln reads the Emancipation Declaration

Abraham Lincoln
I do order and declare that all persons held as slaves in the said and designated states and parts of states are and henceforward shall be free; and that the executive government of the United States, including the military and naval authorities thereof, will recognise and maintain the freedom of said persons. And I hereby enjoin on the people so declared to be free to abstain from all violence, unless in necessary self-defence; and I recommend to them that, in all cases where allowed, they labour faithfully for reasonable wages. And I further declare and make known that such persons, of suitable condition, will be received into the armed services of the United States to garrison forts, positions, stations and other places, and to man vessels of all sorts in said service.

SCENE 19: A village in the South

The Emancipation Declaration is being read to the people. Enter the Spirit of America

Across the South the Proclamation read,
In cinereous quarters songs uprise,
Their former masters filling guns with lead
Dreading what lurks behind valiant eyes;
“Today you may go ‘soever you please,”
A mother leans her childrens’ heads to kiss,
Close by an old man sinks on work-chapp’d knees,
Counting the angels with arm-reaching bliss;
The day they’d fear’d they’d never live to see
Shines all about in perfect ecstasy!

The gates flung open, the Black Man enlists,
The First Louisiana rais’d the flag,
Most passionate anti-seccessionists,
Ready to stand & die for the dog-tag;
Impress on the world a cuttleaxe kind of tough
As ancient as the sands of Africa,
Gone storming Port Hudson’s foeheld hairpin bluff,
Bloodshed imbibing, one tribe together,
But part of something greater, to release
Egregious dogs, & leave the land at peace!

Enter the First Louisiana


Oh, Fremont he told them when the war it first begun
How to save the Union and the way it should be done
But Kentucky swore so hard and Old Abe he had his fears
Till ev’ry hope was lost but the colored volunteers

Oh, give us a flag
All free without a slave;
We’ll fight to defend it as our fathers did so brave;
The gallant Comp’ny “A”
Will make the rebels dance
And we’ll stand by the Union if we only have a chance

McClellan went to Richmond with two hundred thousand brave;
He said, “Keep back the n***ers” and the Union he would save;
Little Mac he had his way, still the Union is in tears
Now they call for the help of the colored volunteers


Old Jeff says he’ll hang us if we dare to meet him armed
A very big thing , but we are not at all alarmed;
For he first has got to catch us before the way is clear
And that is “what’s the matter” with the colored volunteer


So rally, boys, rally, let us never mind the past;
We had a hard road to travel, but our day is coming fast;
For God is for the right, and we have no need to fear
The Union must be saved by the colored volunteer


Then here is to the 54th, which has been nobly tried
They were willing, they were ready, with their bayonets by their side
Colonel Shaw led them on and he had no cause to fear
About the courage of the colored volunteer


SCENE 20: Gettysburg

Enter General Lee at the head of the Confederate army


I wish I was in the land of cotton,
Old times there are not forgotten;
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

In Dixie’s Land where I was born in,
Early on one frosty mornin,
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

I wish I was in Dixie, Hooray! Hooray!
In Dixie’s Land I’ll take my stand
to live and die in Dixie.

Away, away, away down south in Dixie.
Away, away, away down south in Dixie.

Old Missus marry “Will the weaver,”
Willium was a gay deceiver;
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

And when he put his arm around ‘er,
He smiled as fierce as a forty-pounder,
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

I wish I was in Dixie, Hooray! Hooray!
In Dixie’s Land I’ll take my stand
to live and die in Dixie.

Away, away, away down south in Dixie.
Away, away, away down south in Dixie.

I wish I was in Dixie, Hooray! Hooray!
In Dixie’s Land I’ll take my stand
to live and die in Dixie.

Away, away, away down south in Dixie.
Away, away, away down south in Dixie.

Now here’s to the health to the next ole Missus
An’ all the gals that want to kiss us;
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land

And if you want to drive away sorrow
Come and hear our song tomorrow
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

I wish I was in Dixie, Hooray! Hooray!
In Dixie’s Land I’ll take my stand
to live and die in Dixie.

Away, away, away down south in Dixie.
Away, away, away down south in Dixie.

Dar’s buckwheat cakes an Injun batter,
Makes your fat a little fatter;
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

Then hoe it down and scratch your gravel,
To Dixie’s Land I’m bound to travel.
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

I wish I was in Dixie, Hooray! Hooray!
In Dixie’s Land I’ll take my stand
to live and die in Dixie.

Away, away, away down south in Dixie.
Away, away, away down south in Dixie.

Enter the Spirit of America

Warring most audacious rode famous Lee,
Conspiring to break the enemy’s back,
To smash the Army of the Potomac,
Inflicting wrath divine, terminally!
A Copperhead officer rumors heard,
“At Gettysburg good shoes in good supply,”
There led his men & with this cast the die,
The day of greatest death no more deferr’d
Thro cowtail fields, where bare a bumble stirr’d,
‘Neath Lutheran cupola scraping sky!

As phlegm erupts from mankind’s waking throats,
Two lines are drawn like sabres heaving sand,
On Cemetery Ridge plunges the stand
Of Union boys up-buttoning coats,
Tied all together like a bridge of boats,
Ready to face whate’er the day’s demand;
Steady in cause & combat – two eyes scann’d
The scene… says Confederate Colonel Oates,
Seeing Roundtops as yet undefended,
“Seize the heights, this war might soon be ended!”

SCENE 21: Gettysburg: The Confederate lines

General Lee has made his headquarters at a stone house on Seminary Ridge.

Walter H Taylor
I have dire news most uncouth to report
From Rummel Farm, where Stuart’s horse have lost
All speed & all surprise, our handsome cost,
A stand-off full of slaughter as a sport,
Where Custer’s flame-hair’d screams fill every ear
“Come on you Wolverines!” – his sabre rais’d
Has stopp’d us dear, chopp’d down our endeavor,
Leaving intact the enemy’s ridg’d rear,
Their forces are compact, alert, unphas’d –
Attacking now might not be so clever.

General Lee
Let us attack, for in our boys we trust,
The Army of Northern Virginia
Has pomell’d foes one after another
Who dared to stand against a cause so just,
Our cannon claws crust, when we shall thrust
Into their heart a dagger, deliver
A blow so lethal the world will shiver,
A blow that shall forever be discuss’d,
For when I’ve ask’d my boys to charge this day
They did, ‘those men were heroes,’ men will say.

James Longstreet
This bodes not well, a hurricane awaits,
That line could withstand fifteen thousand men,
When Pickett, untried Pickett, has just ten,
To test their guns would only dissipate
Our strength, I say, sir, turn back from the gate.
Lee: We must attack, & if not now then when?
The Army of the Potomac a hen
Plump for plucking & cooking on a grate,
& then, with Lincoln’s sword from flay’d hands pris’d,
He’ll sue for peace, with that the South baptized!

Walter H Taylor
Lieutenant, take this down so none forgets,
Our troops are passing the Emmitsburg Road,
In tatter’d grey butternut coats they strode,
A glittering forest of bayonets!
All whom, before this humid sunshine sets,
Shall glory cover thickly, rights restor’d;
But what is this deadly discharg’d discord,
Us-withering with vicious, threatful frets…
Fleeing that wall of artillery fire,
It seems, for war, men no more show desire!

General Lee
Wait… wait… wait…….. some reach Cemetery Hill,
This day might yet be ours in many ways,
Wait… wait… alas… it seems… thro’ clearing haze,
Of death & slaughter all have had their fill,
Blame me for these calamities occur’d,
But all of this this will come right in the end,
We’ll talk it over afterwards, ’til then
Cry, ‘all good men must rally,’ spread the word
Along the lines, a new line to defend,
As I ride out to greet my bravest men!

General Pickett leads his men into the carnage – the Battle of Getysburg ends / Enter Lincoln checking the corpses / the bodies are cleaned / a platform is built on the field / men & women arrive in civilian dress


Abraham Lincoln
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate — we can not consecrate — we can not hallow — this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Enter the Spirit of America

The glory of the Gettysburg Address,
Forever steadfast, cleverly worded,
Was, in the pauses, five times applauded,
When good folk felt America’s caress
In heart – one soul in all the laws they bless,
Never has there been a speech so lauded;
Never has the truth been so well order’d,
They heard it in the South – where soon, God Bless,
Peace granted precious liberty each slave,
In the Land of the Free & the Home of the Brave.

Enter Joseph Rodman Drake

Joseph Rodman Drake
WHEN Freedom from her mountain height
Unfurled her standard to the air,
She tore the azure robe of night,
And set the stars of glory there.
She mingled with its gorgeous dyes
The milky baldric of the skies,
And striped its pure celestial white,
With streakings of the morning light;

Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly,
The sign of hope and triumph high,
Flag of the seas! on ocean wave
Thy stars shall glitter o’er the brave;
Flag of the free heart’s hopes and dreams
For ever float thyandard sheet!
With Freedom’s soil beneath our feet,
And Freedom’s banner oer us streams.



Oh say can you see,
By the dawn’s early light,
What so proudly we hailed,
At the twilight’s last gleaming?

Whose broad stripes and bright stars,
Through the perilous fight,
O’er the ramparts we watched,
Were so gallantly streaming.

And thy rocket’s red glare,
Thy bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through thee night,
That our flag was still there.

Oh say does that star spangled banner yet wave,
O’er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.

And where is that band
who so vauntingly swore,
That the havoc of war
and the battle’s confusion

A home and a Country
should leave us no more?
Their blood has wash’d out
their foul footstep’s pollution.

No refuge could save
the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight
or the gloom of the grave.

And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

CHARLIE: Scenes 1-4


Scene 1: The Palace of Versaille

King Louis XV is sat in state, attended by his ministers. Enter the Marshall D’Eguiles with the Young Pretender, Charles Edward Stuart

I offer thee, your regal majesty,
Charles Edward Stuart, son of Scottish James
By his mother, pretty Clementina,
Reer’d mid the Muti Palace of fair Rome
The chosen child of Bourbon destiny
The hearts of half of Europe are in flames
Eager for his sword to start the battle
Well versed in war at the siege of Gaeta,
Expert with sword, master of the saddle
He rides to reclaim his ancestral home.

Your majesty! We share a crucial bond
The Bourbon blood flows nobly thro’ my veins
For Catholic kings rule men, that fact is fair,
But now it is a Protestant that reigns
My legal birthright, L’Ecosse Ancienne
With her the rest of regal Albion
Where north to south command I loyal men
We sacred Stuarts ready to restore –
With me Paris speaks a peace with London
Tis now or never for to go to war.

Louis XV
Greetings, Dauphin, fond welcome here in France,
Thy sojurn shall run well at my expense
& furnished with suitable elegance,
Good tidings my little mercurial
The time has come to seek the recompense
For since we won the field of Fontenoy
The British lodged in Flanders to a man
Barely a musket elsewhere to employ
& so, young prince, you may have your battle
What are the rudiments kept by thy plan?

I am ready, your highness, & god bless!
Ready to don my native highland dress
Protecting all honour & happiness
& die at their head, not live in exile
& play a role that’s worthy of my birth
To lay three crowns before my father’s feet
& all those who opposed him grant pardon –
Remember Otterburn & Bannockburn!
With broadswords & muskets my mighty share
I take my leave, adeui, I must prepare.

Exit the Bonnie Prince

Louis XV
Oui – there he flies, a charismatic bird,
The British expedition is begun
Let all his naval duties be deferred
Bedeck his galleons with heavy gun
& we shall send a storm across the seas
Thus… move an army to the Northern coast –
Ravishers of the Anglo-Saxon host!
Our enemy shall soon be on his knees
O seventeen hundred & forty-five
Mon Deiu! These days dashing days to be alive!

My name is the Marquis D’Eguiles
An agent of the crown
The Prince has gain’d the royal seal
His sparkling eyes & all their zeal
I follow out of town

Scene 2 : A Highland Bothy

Three generations of highland men – Angus, David, Eric – with David’s wife, Morag & their daughter, Rosie, are gathered for an evenings music & play

So you think its true father, what they’re saying down in Inverness

I don’t know lad, there’s been many a rumour before, its been a long time since the first Pretender came to Scotland – thirty years by my reckoning

& what a proper collieshangle that was, eh David, a real mess

Aye, father

Grandpa – I love those tales of yours from the great rebellion – wont you tell us one of yer poems

Aye, the one about the battle of Sherrifmuir – it is one of my favourites

I cannae remember ithat

Go on Grandpa

He remembers it alright. I think he might need a little… inspiration – Morag, fill his glass my love

Here you are Sir Poet

Thanks lass, ah… its all coming back the noo…
There’s some say that we won
& some say that they won
& some say that none won at a,’ man
But of one thing I’m sure
That at Sheriffmuir,
A battle there was that I saw, man
& we ran, & they ran:
& they ran, & we ran;
But we ran & they ran awa,’ man!

Enter Fergus

I love that poem


Fergus & Eric embrace

Hello, Fergus lad, welcome

Have you been with the cattle

I’ve been a-herding all day

You’ll be thirsty then, do you want a drink

Aye, thattle be bonnie

Get the man a glass Morag – Fergus, good to see ya – come & sit doon here lad, next to my Rosemary – she’s taken quite a shine to yer y’know


Its true, you’re all she goes on about – look she’s gone bright red

Och, shes even bonnier when she’s blushing – so Rosie, do you want to take a wee stroll later, maybe, around the loch

Aye, I’d love to

Have you heard the news, by the way

Of course, but what do you know

Well… old Tam says his wife’s sister’s brother was talking to a man who’s ain brother was waiting on a ship doon at Ullapool


That ship was ready to meet the prince at sea

Charles Edward Stewart, such a bonnie name

He’s coming alright, I can feel it in my bones – they always start throbbing before a battle

Duncan’s sure to pin his badge to the Prince’s chest

Would you fight with the Macleans again father

Of course – I’ve only just turned sixty – I feel as fit a fiddle lad – besides, he’s our rightful prince, remember that – my father died fighting for the Pretender back in the ’15 – If my da was brave enough to fight for what he believed in, what we believd in, then so should I be

Aye, & me ‘n’ all father

I’ll be there, by your side, giving faithful service to the Prince

Good lad – there were three generations of us at Sherrifmuir too – your grandpappy would be proud to hear such talk

Aye, god keep his soul – boys, let me fill your glasses, we can make a toast – to the King over the water

the King over the water

& his fine lad, Charlie

To Charlie


Come o’er the stream, Charlie
Dear Charlie, brave Charlie
Come o’er the stream, Charlie
And dine with MacLean
And though you be weary
We’ll mak’ your heart cheery
And welcome our Charlie
And his loyal train
We’ll bring down the track deer,
we’ll bring down the black steer
The lamb from the breckan and doe from the glen
The salt sea we’ll harry and bring to our Charlie
The cream from the bothy, and curd from the pen

And you shall drink freely the dews of Glen-Sheerly
That stream in the starlight when kings dinna ken
And deep be your meed of the wine the grapes bleed
To drink to your sire, and his friend Maclean
Our heath-bells shall trace you
the maids to embrace you
And deck your blue bonnet wi’ flowers of the brae
And the loveliest Mari in all Glen-M’Quarry
Shall lie in your bosom till break of the day

If aught will invite you or more will delight you
‘Tis ready a troop of our bold Highlandmen
Shall range on the heather with bonnet and feather
Strong arms and broad claymores, three hundred & ten

SCENE 3: Glenfinnan

The Bonnie Prince & his entourage are recently landed from France / a number of highland chiefs await him, including Lochiel & Maclean

Men of the Highlands & the Western Isles
Behold your right & proper royal heir
Who since the shame of sick king Billy’s guiles
We Stuarts usurped from their regal share
My father’s father fought before the Boyne
At Sherrifmuir my father’s shafts did fly
When truth & justice was the only coin
& mettle tested by a clansman’s might
Amidst these misty mountains towered high
I raise my standard for the Jacobite

Ma prince, ye are as bonnie as the sun
& ahm-a bound with honour to yer course
The age of gory glory hus begun
I offer ye ma heart, ma sword, ma force
As dae the Stewarts & the bold MacRaes
& many other clansmen hangin youth
Strong boned & gallus fer the coming days
Fired up fer kennin that we fecht fer truth
& goch upon the loch, whose is that boat!
Och aye! by that MacDonald ah have fought

A small boat lands on the shore – a messenger jumps out

Yer highness, as ah bow before yer feet
A’ bring grave parlance from the men of Skye
Gallant MacLeod & MacDonald of Sleat
Are not to join their voices wi’ yer cry
To gan wi’ ye must end in their defeat
They’d rather remain chieftain than to die
& reckon ye shid sail back hame tae France
Fer now yer cause belongs across the sea
Yer venture, altho wrought fae high romance,
Can only end wi’ woe & tragedy

Gan coward! Gan back to the Cuillin range
& tae the Campbells, McKays & Munroes
Bide those lads their allegiance flashes strange
When in brave hearts the rose of battle grows –
Och! see ‘em row, a flight that will be shared
When we cun meet the redcoats on the field
As soon as our braw army is prepared
We’ll march wi’ musket, claymore & wi’ shield
Tae slay the sassenachs of Jonnie Cope
& aw them that survive drape fae the rope!

Your words of gold are stardust to mine ears
& here beneath the flutter of this flag
I sense the passion of these sixty years
Prometheus descending from his crag
Being thy regent in my father’s name
We walk the way of happy victory
These islands shall be partial to his fame
& all our subjects live here tenderly
But first the rumble of the guns must start
Come, friends, let us to Edinburgh depart

The star has landed on the shore
His standard smartly raised
The Highlands are aloft for war
Tho some his prompt return implore
He marches on unfazed

SCENE 4: The Highland Countryside

Rosie & Eric are just getting dressed after making love

Good morning Rosemary

Morning my darlin’

Ive been watching you sleep, you look like an angel

Last night felt… special, Fergus

Aye lass, we were born to be together, you & I

But I’m worried… war’s not a joke

Don’t say it lass – none of that dying business is written in our stars

You dinna ken what’ll happen Fergus, no-one does

Och – it wont be long before the Prince is back on the throne & all his loyal soldiers shacked up in one of them big castles doon south telling the Emglish what tae dae

Do you think we’d have servants too

Aye, of course, we’ll have a cook, a gardener & even a nanny for each of oor ten bairns

How many?

At least ten – we gonna have so many bairns we’ll be making a whole clan of our own

Och you’re such a dreamer Eric

& they’re all full of you lass – come here


Im alive
Im alive for you
& all my love for you
Is burnin strong

You are my rosemary
& like the Hebredes
You are in my melodies
When Im in song

& makes me sing
This song for you
When rosy morning
Keeps shining through

All of those things you do
They keep me inter you
Just like the winter dew
You taste of spring

& when you take off your clothes
You make me curl up my toes
Your back unfurls as it grows
An angel wing

& makes me sing
This song for you
When rosy morning
Keeps shining through

You are my silver rose
& when my lovin grows
It falls like summer snows
In golden corn

& just one look at you
Gets me all co-ca choo
Some drop of silver dew
This rosy morn

& makes me sing
This song for you
When rosy morning
Keeps shining through

You are my silver rose
& like a flight of rainbows
Im never comin down
This rosy morn

Enter Eric

Fergus, come on lad, I’ve been looking all over for ya – the burning cross cover’d the island last night, mountain to mountain it went – the Macleans are going to war


Aye – today we’re meeting Duncan doon the glen – we’re off to join the Prince

Do you think you can win brother

Och, aye – we’re invincible, just one blast of our highland lungs & that fat German pig doon London will be swimming the channel to France – now move it Fergus, we’ve got a war tae fight!

I’ll see you soon Rosie, try not to fret lass…

Try not to die, alright

They kiss & the men exit – Rosie in tears

(CH): Scenes 5-8

Scene 5 : Edinburgh Cross

A crowd is anticipating the arrival of the Bonnie Prince. Two milkmaids, Jennie & Mary, are among them. Enter Annie, a third milkmaid.

Girls! The highland army has entered the city gates – their blue bonnets are bobbin up & down the Royal Mile like the waves on the windy Forth

We should hide oorsells, I’ve heard tales of what that randy bunch of sex-starved maniacs get up to

I dinnae ken – I wouldn’t mind a bit of a highland fling, myself

Never mind the Highlanders, they’re but smelly bullocks the lot of em, but I’ve heard the Prince looks like an angel

Good god, you’re right, here he comes now

He’s absolutely gorgeous

Aye, look at his graceful mein & manly locks!

Hands off girls – I saw him first

Enter the Prince, Murray & Lochiel, with various other elements of the army

Welcome to Edinburgh, sir

A most beautiful city – it reminds me somewhat of Firenze

Oh my days – he sounds so sexy with that foreign accent


Am Dm Am, Am F E am
E Am E Am, F C Dm Am E

Charlie he’s my darling,
my darling, my darling,
Charlie he’s my darling,
the young Chevalier.

Twas on a Monday mornin
Right early in the year
When Charlie came to our town
The Young Chevalier.

An’ Charlie he’s my darling,
my darling, my darling,
Charlie he’s my darling,
the young Chevalier.

As he cam’ marchin’ up the street
The city for to view
Right there he spied a bonnie lass
As she towards him drew

An’ Charlie he’s my darling,
my darling, my darling,
Charlie he’s my darling,
the young Chevalier.

Jenny sits on his knee

He set his Jenny on his knee,
All in his Highland dress;
For brawlie weel he ken’d the way
To please a bonny lass.

An’ Charlie he’s my darling,
my darling, my darling,
Charlie he’s my darling,
the young Chevalier.

You two girls, the Prince & his army will be needing milk, & lots of it – now get to work, & you will be suitably rewarded

But Jenny’s a milkmaid too, she should help

Im afraid she will be attending to some personal business of mine

Now off with ya ya trollops, get to work

Mary & Annie
It’s upon yon heathery mountain,
And down yon scroggy glen,
We daur na gang a milking,
For Charlie and his men.

An’ Charlie he’s my darling, my darling, my darling,
Charlie he’s my darling, the young Chevalier.

Scene 6 – It is night, near Tranent

The Macleans are gather’d on the night before the Battle of Prestonpans

So son, are ye ready for yer first battle

Aye da – ah reckon so

Dinnae worry lad – Ive fought in five battles – & Ill be alive for five more

Stick with us & you’ll do no wrong Eric

Dae ye have any advice Angus

All you need to do is shout like the devil & run like the wind

Then spill as much English blood as your god allows –

Aye, & dinnae let the sound of gunfire make your flesh cautious lads

What should I do when I’m face-to-face with a redcoat

Well boy – you look him straight in the eyeball… Then you kick him in the nuts & cut out his guts as he’s dropping – trust me, he wont be getting back up

Hey lads, have you seen my scars

Yes granda, aboot a thousand times

This one here’s the best – hand to hand combat with a seven foot English bastard – if he’d cut me just half an inch to the left he’d have had my heart oot

What was your first battle like, Angus?

I remember it like it was yesterday – when I was barely a wee laddie I found myself marching with the redoubtable Dundee – doon at the pass of Killiecrankie – I fought under Lord George Murray on the very same field as Rob Roy McGregor & his mad rascals

I’m so excited for my first, I cannae wait

Ah, but grandson, war’s no pretty thing, I saw a lot of good lads die on those bloody slopes – let me sing you a song


An’ ye had been where I hae been
Ye wadna been sae cantie-o
An’ ye had seen what I hae seen
On the braes o’ Killiecrankie-o

I fought at land, I fought at sea
At hame I fought my auntie-o
But I met the Devil and Dundee
On the braes o’ Killiecrankie-o

The bauld pitcur fell in a furr
And Clavers gat a clankie-o
Or I had fed an Athol gled
On the braes o’ Killiecrankie-o

It’s nae shame, it’s nae shame
It’s nae shame to shank ye-o
There’s sour slaes on Athol braes
And the de’ils at Killiecrankie-o

An’ ye had been where I hae been
Ye wadna been sae cantie-o
An’ ye had seen what I hae seen
On the braes o’ Killiecrankie-o

Enter Maclean

Boys, listen hear, you can save yer singing til after the battle – Lord Murray says we’ll be off at four in the morning – that’s two hours before dawn – apparently he’s found a track through the marshes so we’ll be coming right behind Jonnie Cope & his boys – they won’t stand a chance, that’s if you boys are up for it

You can count on us Duncan

Good lads – I’ll see you all at four

You heard the chief, wed be better get some sleep boys, we’ll want tae have all us energy for the charge – good night to you all


Ah bollox! Has anyone got a spare blanket… Eric budge up pal – Let me share yours

Get off

Go on…

Scene 7 – 21st September 1745, fields south of Prestonpans

The Bonnie Prince, Murray, Lochiel, Maclean & other chiefs are in counsel before the Battle of Prestonpans

Gorgeous morning yer highness, Prince of Wales
A wonderful manoeuvre come to pass
As the English sat at their stakes like snails
Yer army made its way thro the morass
Tracked thro the marshes, measuring their stealth
& now rest hard upon his other flank,
But not for long! the boys did toast yer health
& for this, Grace of God, did duly thank
Those men who eat dry crust & lie on straw
Shall fecht like kings, now watch them charge to war!

Good work Lord Murray, now take up the right
A cannonball shall signal the attack
& now sir Jonathan your men must fight
Not slip away as at Corrieyairack
That cuckold marched two thirds of the kingdom
Not one chieftan has proffered him his sword
Let us announce the end of that empire
Ye gentlemen, ye warriors, now come
Join me in solemnity to our lord
‘Gloria Angele Dei!’ now men, fire!

After an exchange of artillery the Highland army embarks on its charge

See how they gan! & what a gory sound
The highland roar, as if the Earth did quake
With furious groan, come see their cannons pound
Brave Camerons, line gis an awfa’ shake
But on they run! & wi’ a mighty crack
Oor muskets reap those eves o’ redcoat corn
& now they rush intae the killing ground,
By broadsword & scyth’d pitchfork limbs be torn
Carrying great slaughter to the English
To be in England, aye, their dying wish!

Sweet salutations sire, yer battles won
Peer thro the smoke & see those fleeing shapes
An entire English army on the run
Lord Percy shall see none of them escapes
The ghoul of Hanover must bare defeat
The field is littered with his bastard dead
Back to Berwick flies Jonnie Cope’s retreat
Wi’ not one of ‘is bayonets stain’d red
Tae praise this day there is nae better word
Tis Victory! God bless King James the Third

Ours is the day, the field, the glory
Go spread its fame – fly north, south, east & west
Fly to Vienna, London & Paris,
Fly to Ferrol, Ostend, Dunkerque & Brest
& let us war! But ‘fore the march we sound
Carry the wounded to a better bed
At Holyrood let casks of wine be found
To toast our heroes & libate the dead
The motions of destiny are at hand,
Come tomorrow let us invade England

The Bonnie Prince has won the fray
Beside the fair Forth sands
The Highland army in his pay
Has never known a better day
Their fates are in his hands

Scene 8 : Tranent

The Macleans are gather’d after the battle

So Fergus, how did you find your first battle

Aye, it was geat – I loved to see the English scattered like sheep

Aye, bottle-necked feartie-cats the lot of them

Here comes the chief

David & Duncan arrive with a barrel of Brandy & a bag of cups

Lads, the Prince has order’d casks of brandy to be opened to drink the king, his father’s health – each clan gets twa

Great stuff, I love a drop of the old French nectar

{Handing out the glasses}
Here you go lads

To the King over the water

The King over the water

So lads, the chief’s got a few words to say

Aye I do – a magnificent effort today lads, but its only the beginning – one battle does not make a war – grand estate or humble cottage, we clansmen of the north, we poet-patriots, have sworn to help the Prince in this enterprise wherever it may go – we will be inexcusable before god & man if we do not do all in their power to assist & support our undertaking, even into England if the Prince wills it – so ,enjoy tonight, you deserve it, & I’m sure there’ll many more nights like these as we march with Charlie

Well said, Duncan


Let us shake hands with ruin & stare death in the eye, for the esteemed cause of King & Country

Has somebody got a fiddle, lets get this party started!


The drums of war were sounding far,
When Johnnie Cope cam tae Dunbar,
When Johnnie Cope cam tae Dunbar,
Upon a misty Morning

Cope Sent a a Message tae Dunbar
Said; ‘Charlie meet me if you daur,
‘And I’ll learn you the arts of war,
‘If you’ll meet me in the morning’

Hey Johnnie Cope are you wauking yet,
Or are your drums a- beating yet?
If you were wauking I would wait,
Tae gang tae The Coals in the morning

When Charlie looked this letter upon,
He drew his sword the scabbard from,
Come follow me my merry men,
And we’ll meet Johnnie Cope in the morning.

When Johnnie Cope he heard o’ this,
He thought it wouldna be amiss,
To hae a horse in readiness,
To flee awa’ inthe morning.

Fye now Johnnie, get up and run,
The Highland bagpipes mak a din,
It’s better tae sleep in a hale skin.
For ’twill be a bloody morning.

When Johnnie Cope tae Dunbar came,
They spiered at him, ‘where’s a’ your men?’
‘The Deil confound me gin I ken,
For I left them a this morning.’

Now Jonnie troth, ye were na blate,
Tae come wi’ news o’ your ain defeat,
And leave your men in sic a straight
So early in the morning.

‘Faith’, quo Johnnie, ‘I had sic fegs,
Wi’ their claymores and their philabegs,
If I face them again Deil brak ma legs,
So I wish you a’ good morning.’

(CH): Scenes 9-13

SCENE 9 – London – King George II is sat on his throne reading the newspapers with his chancellor / enter Thomas Arne with three singers; Mrs. Cibber, Beard and Reinhold

Your majesty

Mr Arne, a pleasure to see you once more

The pleasure is all mine your majesty – I have finished the song & wish it to be sung in your presence

George II
Hmm, the ditty about me? Very well, sing it

Your highness, may I present Mrs. Beard, Reinhold & mny sister Mrs Cibber

Cibber, Beard and Reinhold
Your highness

Ladies… on the count of three.. one, two…

Cibber, Beard and Reinhold
God bless our Noble King,
God Save great George our King
God save the King:
Send him victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us:
God save the king.

O Lord, our God, arise,
Scatter thine enemies
And make them fall
Confound their politics,
Frustrate their knavish tricks,
On thee our hopes we fix:
God save us all.

From every latent foe
From the assassins blow
God save the King
O’er her thine arm extend
For Britain’s sake defend
Our mother, prince, and friend
God save the King

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

Yes, very good, excellent even

I am delighted his majesty likes it.

It sounds familiar somewhat

It is an old tune, your highness, my mother says she heard it sung in the street when the Prince of Orange was hovering over the coast. There is a received opinion that it was written and composed for the Catholic Chapel of James II. I have merely adapted it for a better, more deserving, more godsent king.

Since the descent of the demon Stuart wolfchild on our islands, demonstrations of loyalty to the reigning house are in especial demand.

Yes sire, all of London are in total abhorrence to the arbitrary schemes of our invidious enemies. I have written this song to coalesce their passions with an anthemic chorus. The song shall be having its debut tonight, sire. The entire male cast of the Drury Lane theatre announced shall be announcing their intention of forming a special unit of the Volunteer Defence Force. They will be giving a performance of Jonson’s The Alchemist, at which conclusion Mrs Cibber, Beard and Reinhold will be singing my new song.

The stage is the most loyal place in the three kingdoms, your majesty

Enter the Duke of Cumberland

The soldiers of your army would dispute that very much – what is more loyal than to die for your king

George II
William Augustus, how are you my boy

In excellent health & spirits father, & you

I have read the dispatches – the news is dire – that dreadful band of savages – freely allowed to roam across our sovereign soil – unchallenged! They have already taken Carlisle, & are now on their way into Lancashire – There has been a run on the Bank of England, both man & merchant fleeing to France – I am in half a mind to join them

Thanks to the rebellion, your majesties, all trade & business in the country are at quite a standstill

The Duke of Cumberland

These disturbers of his majesty’s reign will not be in England long. The Highland race dwells within a nest of fickle constraint. Obstinate & proud its army shall boast its way to London, then at the first push of bayonet slink back to the mists from whence they came

George II
Son, you are too confident – those howling barbarians the terrify the troops – look what happened at Prestonpans

Father, my king, if I am allowed to marshal your armies then I shall bring a speedy & resolute end to this bloody affair

George II
Perhaps I shall marshal them myself

With all due respect father, this is not Flanders, nor is it Dettingen; these are not the cowardly French – these are Highlanders, merciless murderers & the devil’s own – if you are caught you shall be flayed alive & hung from every mercat cross in Scotland – let me fight this war for you father, for after all, if Charles Edward represents his own father on the field of battle – it is up to I to represent your sacred self

George II
Very well – the commission is yours – I shall pay you an extra 5,000 pounds a year – but tell me, how do you intend to challenge that terrifying Highland charge of theirs

I have given the matter my best – let me demonstrate – stand here father, now, you there, slowly charge at us with your right arm held high


George II
Yes, you Mr Arne, do as my son says

Like this?

That’s right, now charge the king, slowly

The king?

Mr Arne!

Sorry your majesty, of course…

Thomas slowly charges the king

The bayonet is no match for a claymore – but they have a weakness – here…
{Cumberland stabs underarm of Arne}
This is their Achilles heel, well Achilles armpit, a fleshy weak spot – If the army is well drilled enough to attack the man, not facing, but to his right, then we can nullify the highlanders

Brilliant – have the army instructed at once

It is already being drilled

My boy, we cannot show that damned snivelling species any mercy – none whatsoever. If Britain is ever to become great they must be extirpated from this island – we must succeed where the Romans & Longshanks failed – there wont be peace unless this entire island is subjugated – let commence the crusade for civilisation

God willing, it will be, I shall attend to it at once

Exit Cumberland

George II
Ah, Mr Arne, do your ladies know your other patriotic number, the one about not become slaves, or something

We have prepeared it, your majesty, just in case

George II
Yes do sing it, I like it very much

Ladies… on the count of three.. one, two…

Cibber, Beard and Reinhold
Rule, Britannia! Britannia, rule the waves!
Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.
Rule, Britannia! Britannia, rule the waves!
Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.

Scene 10 – Exeter House, Derby / the Prince has gathered his commanders for a council of war

My cabinet, this is the vital hour
Carlisle has fallen, Lancashire is won
The bridge at Shakestone firmly in our power
The road lies open for to seize London
When English Jacobites shall surely rise
& with them all the gallantry of France
& crowns shall be reclaim’d, let’s grasp the prize
If we continue with our bold advance
We could be in Whitehall within the week
Come gentlemen, gather thy thoughts & speak

Ah would say march, your presence in this land
Has sparked a widespread panic rarely seen
If hardy Northern folk wo’ make a stand
The chances of the South standing seem lean
Friends o’ the King were the first dugs to flee
Spreading terror tae London’s grave concern
Whose banks are being emptied o’ money
Then whit will buy the bread their soldiers earn
While royal armies in their meagre league
Outmaneuvered & saddled wi’ fatigue.

My sacred liege, ye are the cavalier
& with advancing I cannot agree
At any point the redcoats may appear
We court romance or court reality
Cumberland is at Stone, not long delayed
Bradstreet says nine thousand at Northampton
Between us & the North their tarries Wade
& thirty thousand clog Finchley Common,
With winter coming in, the future blurr’d
Of yer promised Frenchmen there is no word…

My liege, a’ speak for all the loyal clans
Warriors ready to gi ye their lives
It has been many moons since Prestonpans
They’d rather pass the winter wi’ their wives
No wi’ the English & their crude weather
Gi’ us the crystal lochs & thistle wylde
The meadows, the moorlands & the heather
Oor hearts are wi’ the glens, there let us war
Wi’ all those royal clansmen brutes reviled
Settle auld scores & Scotland overawe

These words you bare are arrows to my heart
Why would ye want to waive the victory
If things shall not be finished, then why start
There seems some base betrayal close to me
But very well, tell my heroic men
Being unsure when Louis will invade
Let us retreat upon the sad morrow
When I hope this ardour shall never fade
For we may never come this way again
& this day be our eternal sorrow

Upon the march to London town
The Prince beset by spies
His Highlanders have let him down
He turns back north with weary frown
Hiding his teary eyes

Scene 10 – Northern England

The Highland army is marching back to Scotland


By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonny braes
Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond
For me and my true love will never meet again
On the bonny bonny banks of Loch Lomond

For ye’ll take the high road
And I’ll take the low road
And I’ll be in Scotland afore ye
For me and my true love will never meet again
On the bonny bonny banks of Loch Lomond

Twas there that we parted in yon shady glen
On the steep, steep side o’ Ben Lomon’
Where in purple hue the Hieland hills we view
An’ the moon comin’ out in the gloaming

The wee birdies sing and the wild flow’rs spring
And in sunshine the waters are sleepin’;
But the broken heart it kens nae second spring
Tho’ the waefu’ may cease frae their greetin’

For ye’ll take the high road
And I’ll take the low road
And I’ll be in Scotland afore ye
For me and my true love will never meet again
On the bonny bonny banks of Loch Lomond

For me and my true love will never meet again
On the bonny bonny banks of Loch Lomond

Scene 11 – The Maclean village

Morag & a pregnant Rosie are at work waulking & fulling cloth

I tell you ma, the boys have it right easy, while they’re off seeing the world, getting up to god knows what, we’re left here doing twice the work – & me in my state

Get used to it lassie – you know, I’ve come to think that the reason the boys have their little feuds & rush off to war at the drop off a kilt, is just to get out of doing an honest days work on the crofts

As if they do anyway

Enter Fergus

That’s a little harsh don’t you think

Fergus – my love – what are you doing here

I thought I’d slip away to see ma wee sweetheart – I’m sick of war now anyway, all I want to do is hold you in my arms

Ah Fergus, come here, I missed ya

They embrace

Its grand to see you, lad, how ya keeping

Och I’m fine, a bit worn oot from trekking up & down the whole island, but I’m in good fettle

Have you not noticed anything different about me Fergus

Well, I didna wanna say, but you have filled out a wee bit like

A wee bit!! I’m six months pregnant lad

You are – am I –

We’re gonna have a bairn

My dear Rosie -you’ve made me the happiest man alive

& I the happiest woman – my first grandchild – so Fergus how are my boys

Fine, fine, not a scratch – the last time I was with the army they were besieging Stirling- but its no way to wage a war that – Falkirk was fine – an open field & an open foe – but attacking castles – its not the Highland way – believe me, I’m not the only one to leave the lines in the middle of the night

We’ve been worried – the rebellion seems to be slowing down, tae be coming back north day-by-day

Aye – there’s gonna be a bloody reckoning & soon – the Prince is determined on it – his dynasty died at Derby I reckon – the lads have already started calling that damned day black Friday – I wasnae that bothered myself, I dinna wanna die for some perfumed French prince – especially when the most beautiful girl in the world was waiting for me back hame

That beautiful girl’s father wouldn’t appreciate that kind of talk Fergus – he’d think you were a coward

Ah, bollox to princes & kings, Morag – I just want to do what’s right – Rosemary will ya marry me my darlin

Of course I will Fergus Maclean

Aw you two love birds… let me go & cook you up a feast lad, you must be awfa hungry after that hike

Aye that I am, I’ve only had a couple of biscuits in the past few days

Well it looks like I’ll have to kill us a chicken

Exit Morag

I’m so glad to have you back darlin, its been too quiet without the lads around

Ah you too Rosie – I saw no lass fairer than you in the whole of Scotland, & England to for that matter – you were always in my thoughts, morning noon & night – I’ve written a song on the way hame

Have you

Aye, well I worked oot that its 500 miles to derby – & 500 miles back – that’s a thoosand miles by ma reckoning – & every step of the way I was singing for you


When I wake up yeah I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you
When I go out yeah I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you
If I get drunk yes I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you
And if I haver yeah I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who’s havering to you

But I would walk 500 miles
And I would walk 500 more
Just to be the man who walked 1000 miles
To fall down at your door

When I’m working yes I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who’s working hard for you
And when the money comes in for the work I’ll do
I’ll pass almost every penny on to you

When I come home yeah I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who comes back home to you
And if I grow old well I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who’s growing old with you

But I would walk 500 miles
And I would walk 500 more
Just to be the man who walked 1000 miles
To fall down at your door

When I’m lonely yes I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man whose lonely without you
When I’m dreaming yes I know I’m gonna dream
Dream about the time when I’m with you.

Enter Morag

Quick, Duncan’s coming

O hide Fergus

I’m nae gonna hide fae no-one

Enter Duncan

So Fergus, you decided to take a wee holiday did ya

What if I did – I’ve done my bit – Ive fought at Prestonpans & Falkirk – I’ve walk’d a thoosand miles risking ma life fae your prince

Oor Prince

Im not interested in princes, me – just my cattle, my soon-to-be wife, & oor new baby

Look lad, don’t try ma patience – while I’m ya chief, ye’ll do as ya told – as long as you rent my land, you’re mine boy,

No more war, sir, I cannot face it again

Look, Fergus, we need every man doon Inverness, – while you are a Maclean you will do as you are told – if you don’t come, I’ll take all your cattle – & set fire to your rooves & wee Rosie’s as well –

Ah thats not fair

Its the Highland way

Alright, I’ll come

Good,you can help me round up the rest of deserters, starting with old Archibald & his sons

See you when I’m back Rosie… I love you

Exit Duncan & Fergus

He’ll be fine love – hes a braw lad that one

I’m following him mother- I have tae

You’re in no condition lass

I’ve got to – I maight never see him again – I have to stick to him as a limpet clings to a sea-rock

Alright lass, but be careful, a bloodthirsty enemy pays no heed to sex or age

I’ll be as cunning as a fox, mother, don’t you worry

Exit Rosie

Och, so I’ve just killed a chicken for nothing


Scene 12 – The Macleans are marching through Scotland


I’m marching on with Charlie
I’m marching far from home
& when I march wi Charlie
A never march alone
I got my chieftan stood beside me
& in that man I trust
I’ll always be a highlander
Until I’m turned to dust

We’re marching on with Charlie
We’re marching far from home
& when we march wi Charlie
We never march alone
I got my chieftan stood beside me
& in that man we trust
I’ll always be a highlander
Until I’m turned to dust

I am marching on, marching,
Marching on with Charlie Boy

I’m marching on wi Charlie
Im marching fight to fight
& when I march wi Charlie
I’ll always march wi might
Got my brothers stood beside me
As solid as the stones
I’ll always be a highlander
Until Im turned to bones

We’re marching on wi Charlie
We’re marching fight to fight
& when we march wi Charlie
We’ll always march wi might
Got my brothers stood beside me
& in that man we trust
I’ll always be a highlander
Until I’m turned to dust

I’m marching on wi Charlie
Up by the Moray Shore
I’m marchin on wi Charlie
Down to Drumossie Moor
I’ll find an English redcoat
& slice a bloody spray
I’ll always be a highlander
Until my dying day

Marching on, marching on,
Marching on with Charlie Boy

(CH): Scenes: 14-17

SCENE 14 – Culloden House

Charlie is discussing tactics with Lochiel – enter Murray & Duncan Maclean

Mah prince, ah have some grave & grievous news
The English are amassing cross the moor
& in two hours shall full assembled be
It seems the wily Duke of Cumberland
Ten times the measure of old Johnnie Cope
& drove his army hard upon our heels
We have but little time to make amends
Past choices have brought great disaster near
But thinking fast & thinking on our heels
Still may fat English confidence be slain

The matter, then, must this day reach its head
& let our LORD this nation’s fate define
With all ye mighty, loyal men of mine
How we have marched, & fought, & how we bled
All for this single martial consequence
When I can feel the triumph in our bones
For princes have a right to sit on thrones
Ordain’d by Heaven’s prime omnipresence
How such hot things engage my appetite
How are the men who must this morning fight?

Och! Nae so braw, mah prince, these men are tired
Murray’s night march has worn away their feet
But still to fight yer cause are full inspired
& tho they’ve barely had an oat to eat
Since Inverness, that’s twa days & a night,
They stand in yonder field like golden wheat
That when bent over swiftly stands aright
Still five thousand grand lads shall for ye stand
& none of them would shirk the coming fight
As long as ye still vocal in command

But sire, pray listen, let us prudence take
On boggy heath oor highland charge must break
We will be bees buzzing about the bears
& oor small cannon not a match for theirs
Let us remove oor army to the peaks
& wear the foe down oer the coming weeks
Upon the ground found in oor very blood
Where Wallace, Bruce & even Rob Roy stood
For if we fight this vital battle here
The price must be your father’s crown I fear

Nonsense – nonsense – nonsense – nonsense – nonsense
I have listened to such ‘prudence’ before
By now I could be sat on England’s throne
But I was down at Derby led afool
I shall not quaff that same vile draught again
Alert the men & ready them for war
& tell them God is with their prince today
If they be with him too, now let us pray
In nomine Patris, et Filii, et
Spiritus Sancti – let faith fuel the fray

Crow clouds have gather’d oer the moor
Rain bleaches faces white
Both Hell & Heaven set in store
The fated victims of a war
Brought to its final fight

SCENE 15 – Drummossie Moor

The Highland Lines – the rain & wind drives into the faces of the Macleans

Look at that da, the English have never been so well ordered before

Never mind, they wont be in any kind of order once we’ve git in & at em – just look at whose gathered here today – many a braw clan & hardy warrior – chieftans, taxmen, tenants, subtenants all joined together as one beating heart – Frasers, Farquharsons, Macdonells, Grants, Mackenzies, Ogilvys, Gordons, Appins & Atholls – ah – it’s a stirring sight for a true-born highlander

The sound of Scottish cannon

That’s our guns

The battles started lads – ready your pistols

The sound of English cannon

It sounds like they’ve got muckle more guns than us

Aye, look at the Macphearsons, theyre dropping like flies

Dinna worry lads – hold ya nerve – the Prince knows what he’s doing

Cannonball whizzes past them

Oor guns have gone silent – they dinna seem t o be working, ken

They’re doin bloody murder to us – why don’t we charge

Chief – let us at the English bastards

Have courage lads, for oor cause is righteous

It wont be long before those guns destroy every clansman on this field – – if we dally any longer what chance will we have

Aye, the boys right, lets charge em Duncan

The Prince has not given the order yet – we stand

Cannonball rips into lines

Come on boys, lets sing – show them we’ve still got fire in our bellies –


Hark! When the night is falling
Hark! Hear the pipes are calling,
Loudly and proudly calling, down through the glen.
There where the hills are sleeping,
Now feel the blood a-leaping,
High as the spirits of the old Highland men.
Towering in gallant fame
Scotland my mountain hame,
High may your proud standards gloriously wave,
Land of my high endeavour,
Land of the shining river,
Land of my heart for ever, Scotland the brave.

Fergus is wounded by a cannoball

High in the misty Highlands,
Out by the purple islands,
Brave are the hearts that beat beneath Scottish skies.
Wild are the winds to meet you,
Staunch are the friends that greet you,
Kind as the love that shines from fair maidens’ eyes.
Far off in sunlit places,
Sad are the Scottish faces,
Yearning to feel the kiss of sweet Scottish rain.
Where tropic skies are beaming,
Love sets the heart a-dreaming,
Longing and dreaming for the homeland again.

Look, the Appins are off – Mackintoshes are cgarging like wildcats – come on lads – I’ve had enough of this – its time to put an end to this sorry affair -with me Macleans – CHARGE!!!!

SCENE 16 – Drummossie Moor

The British Lines

Come see the Pretender in the distance,
His rascally & ragged rebel bands,
The Irish… & there look! the flag of France
At last those fools are fed into our hands!
From Lancaster, Carlisle & Falkirk Moor
He slipped my net, I thought him rather shrewd,
But this, a broken field of boggy moor,
All credence lacks, his choice seems rather crude,
& should, methinks, have shut up in the town…
Now ve princes contest the British crown!

Lord Bury
Most noble Duke, as I surveyed the moor
Close to those blasted pipes of shrieking skirl
Above me passed the first shots of the war…
& as you hear our answer is aswirl
Their lines harangued by wind & hail & sleet
With cannonballs theirs is a sorry lot
& hastening th’onset of their defeat
We rain upon them thick shards of grape shot
But wait! what is that roar? at last they charge!
Our guns shall seek the measure of their targe!

Sir, now your men in mortal combat meet,
All is confusion, noise, concern & heat
On the left the thickest of the fighting
Barrel’s brave boys on their broadswords biting
But of this day the king will never fret
Those heathen fall beneath infernal fire
Or spitted on an English bayonet
& on the right their charge shows no desire
Strict discipline & guts rip thro that shield
This godless place becomes their killing field

Orpheus to my ears! the fleeing shout
& come to a decision the matter
Tis strange to see the nation’s bravest rout
Those boasted broadswords not as they flatter
Not since Lord Noll had they such a thrashing
Let Lord Ancram pursue them with the horse
Hold no quarter, slaughter, sabres slashing
& extirpate that race as fighting force
Destroy clannism, burn their homes & grain
So these wretches shall never rise again!

Great tidings sir, when London hears the news
The oldest wines shall happily be drunk
The Bonnie Prince & all his bonnet blues
Into the freezing Moray Firth hath sunk
The flower of the highlander lies strewn
Upon this ghastly field & down the roads
Shall ride many a merciless dragoon
All to the weeping streets of Inverness
So far we have counted a thousand swords
Now raise a cry for Britain & God bless

The crucial battle has been fought
The tartan torn & strewn
The fleeing rats so easy caught
& VENGEANCE shall cut Celtic throat
Beneath a weeping moon

SCENE 17 – Drummossie Moor

The Highland army is routing / Angus supports a wounded Eric across the field near to a wounded Fergus / the Bonnie Prince urging men to fight / Lochiel & Murray by him

The battle is lost sire

Nonsense – where is everybody going, the battle may still be won, do your dare desert your Prince

Angus, Angus, help me

Sorry, lad, my hands are full here wi mi grandson – you’re on your own boy

Tell Rosie that I love her, will ya, & look after oor bairn

Old man, put that fellow down, turn round & get back to the battle

Sod ya battle

Angus & Eric leave the field

You see, all is going to pot, you can be of no great succour, before so general a route which shall soon be – seize upon this opportunity, sire, & carry yourself away

Very well – I shall see you all at Ruthven

Exit Charlie

Aye, run, ye cowardly Italian

I think we’d better go too, Lochiel, The Irish & the French are still holding their ground – they will buy us time to escape this place of death

Aye – it is an end to a bad affair – we must regroup at Ruthven – go swiftly & safely brother

Aye – & you, good luck, Ruthven is 40 miles, take the back roads by Cawdor Castle – I will see you at the barracks

Exit Lochiel & Murray / enter Rosie – she sees Fergus

Fergus – och my boy, my love
{Fergus tries to speak, but coughs up blood}
No – don’t speak darling – let me see your wound

Rosie opens his shirt, the wound is massive / she turns away in disgust, then begins to sing


Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear, lend an ear,
Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear,
Ye Jacobites by name,
Your faults I will proclaim,
Your doctrines I must 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 alone, to his fate.

Enter British soldiers

Soldier One
Stop your damned singing woman

Soldier Two pushes her to one side & bayonets Fergus

Soldier Two
So you are pregnant are you, well, we certainly don’t want any babies with a claymore crying revenge now, do we

Soldier Two bayonets Rosie slowly in her belly – exit soldiers

(CH): Scenes 18-23

SCENE 18 – The Maclean’s Village

Morag is working – enter Angus & Eric

Morag! Morag!

Angus, thank God

The boy needs help

Dinnae worry Eric, ya safe home now

You should be proud of those wounds lad – as big as medals they are

Where’s David

Steady yerself lass – he’s doon amang the deid noo – he was brave – he burst through their lines like a stag, but never came out again – it was a slaughter – I found Eric on my way out a that madness – but this is no turn to grieve lass – your son needs your help

Come here lad, let me wash & dress you wounds – I’ve a little gibean left, that will help

Where’s Megan

She went looking for Fergus, have ya seen him

He was alive – but I dinnae fancy his chances much – I’ve never seen anything like it – there must have been, what, a thoosand dead clansman on that field – the Flower of the Highlands – & on the way to Inverness, at least three hundred more, cut down by those blasted dragoons doing the black work of the de’il himself – I saw some poor Macgregors herded into a bothy & burnt alive

Eric squeals in pain

Its good for you lad, if it hurts it means its working

I’ll leave the lad with you, I’m going back to war

What, back! To war! Are ya mad or something?

I’m nae mad, I’m maddened, I’ve got tae carry on fighting, what else – the army, what’s left of ’em, are meeting at Ruthven Barracks – we must keep the struggle up else all shall be lost – they’ll drive us off the land, you know, replace us with sheep and cattle, we must keep on fighting – there must be another 20,000 highland soldiers what wasnae at Culloden – we can still win, Morag

It disnae bode well Angus

Aye father – there was many a lowland Scot fighting for the English on the moor – & there’ll be plenty more where those turncoats came from

To think that the Stewarts are descended from The Bruce himself – what a mess the country’s got itself into, eh? – & that’s why I have tae carry on – Morag, look after the boy, & bide well my love

Exit Angus

Here laddie, how are you feeling

F++kin’ sore

Language, Eric – you’ll be well in no time – wait, what’s that – I hear voices… they’re English – aw – we’ve got ta hide ya lad – come here

Morage drags Eric to a hiding place / Enter Cumberland & soldiers A&B

Come here old hag – yes, you – if you tell me where any rebels are hiding your life will be spared

Their arent any Jacobites around here m’lord

Don’t take me a fool, we know Duncan was with the Prince – men, seach the village

Sir, look, a trail of blood

Follow it then, follow it

Soldier discovers Eric & drags him out

Well, well, what have we here – I warned you hag – kill them both

But I am a poor woman, & this laddie’s here wounded

That is of no consequence – he is a rebel & you are in league with him – in the name of justice King George you must both be put to death at once

No, dinnae!

Eric & Morag are shot in the heads

My boots – I have blood on my boots – next time take them into the woods or something

Soldier A
Sorry sir

No matter, good work, carry on the search then burn down the village

SCENE 19 – Ruthven Barracks

 – the surviving highlanders are gathering

O what a sight, oor brave unbroken clans
Three thousand claymores gathered ever proud
Far more than fought thro Killicrankie’s cloud
Or slaughter’d Johnnie cope at Prestonpans
Enough to battle through the coming days
Up in the hills where England fears to tread
Discovering all their unburied dead
By empty coats & bleached bones on the braes
For while we Highlanders together stand,
No conqueror these mountains can command!

Enter D’Eguiles

Attention! You brave soldiers of Scotland
I have a solemn message in my hand
Recently scrivven by the Prince of Wales –
“Alas! Our fate sea-shock’d by fortune’s gales
& I must sail to fight the war from France
& to en end has come this tragic dance
& to each man that here I leave behind
Pray do thy best by thee & thine own kind
God bless my brave, brave warriors, god bless,
Tho bravest bloom’d the heart our fate fared less! “

Och – let him go, he was no man of arms
His frilly shirt could not defend oor farms
His pampered breast no match for highland brawn
Men like Angus Maclean the better born
A man that I have kenn’d as my own son
With him alive the war can still be won
Tho’ sixty his claymore again survives
As it has done nigh twenty times before
So let us cry aboot our bonnie land
As one clan let we noble clansmen stand

This is the volley of desperation
For the folly of a generation
Was at Culloden ever put to bed
What use a lethal asp without its head
What use a sword without an arm to draw
Without a cry of charge what use a roar
The catalyst of all oor unity
Returning to his distant Italy
Defending hame & family & clan
Now each must do the best that each man can

Gan, gan all of ye, gan back to your hames –
I kill’d at Killiecrankie for King James
At Sherrifmuir I slew a dozen men
At Prestonpans a dozen more ye ken
At Falkirk my count was upp’d to twenty
& at Culloden Moor I fell’d plenty
But what good has it done, I lost a son
& lucky here, for I lost only one
& tho I’ll always be a Jacobite,
Now only in my field-songs I shall fight

Exit the Highland army singing On the Sweet Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond

Alas that once impassion’d host
Left to the hanging tree
Now I must search the rocky coast
To join the prince’s ailing ghost
In pale solemnity

SCENE 20 – South Uist

Flora MacDonald is washing & singing with her Irish maid Betty


Life, life, O what could it mean
Youre born & you die & ya stuffd inbetween
Whether dancing in Sanqaur sailing in Nairn
I’ve been a proud Scots lass since I was a Bairn
But if this is Scotland, then where are the maidens
& the men so proud to be free
If this is Scotland Then where is the freedom Wallace promised too me

Life, life, O what could it mean
Youre born & you die & theres stuff inbetween
Whether doon in Ardrossan or up Ullapool
I’ve been a proud Scots lass since I was at school

But if this is Scotland, then show me Highlands
Not these crmbling city jungles in decline & if this is Scotland
Then where is the kingdom the Bruce told me was rightfully mine

Life, life, o what could it mean Youre born & you die & ya stuffd inbetween
Whether doon in wee Gretna or up Aberdeen
I’ll always be scottish & proud o the gene

Whether courting in Glasgie or married in Fife
I’ll be a proud Scots lass the whole of my
Life, life’s no rehearsal in dress Ya born & ya die & ya live more or less
Whether doon in Port Seton or up Inverness
I’ll be a proud Scots lass, good night & god bless

A knock on the door

Answer that Betty

Enter Lochiel & Charlie

I would like to see Mrs Macdonald

You’d better come in lads

Mrs MacDonald

Hello lads – & who might you be

My name is Lochiel

& your friend

My name is John

We have been travelling many days – we were told you may be… sympathetic… to a couple of weary travellers

Mrs Macdonald’s good nature is very famous through the Hebrides

Of course, gentlemen, we are all God’s children – take a seat – I have some porridge on the pot

That would be grand Mrs Macdonald

Please call me Flora – Betty, some porridge for the gentlemen

Here you go boys

Thank you

Your friend doesn’t say much

Thank you madame

Aha, a French man – if you don’t mind me saying we don’t get many foreigners up here at the edge of the universe  – in fact the only Foreigners round here in recent times, & they were French alright, were all caught up at Culloden – were you at Culloden young man

I was – but my name is not John – I am Charles Edward Stewart – son of James VIII, the rightful king of Scotland

My god! The prince! your highness

Bloody hell!

I am a proud Jacobite, sire – one day the Stuarts will return to the throne, mark my words

Long before that day we need to get the prince to Skye – a French ship is waiting for him there – can you help –

The Hebrides are crawling with redcoats – they patrol every inch of the coast

It’s going to be difficult – but hmmm… let me look at you your highness – quite tall – but I think with a spot of needlework we could make something fit – Betty, get me ome of your clothes – we are to dress the Prince up as you

You’ll have to stuff him up a little – but very well

The present situation makes me so angry – our rightful king forced to wear women’s clothing

Aye, theres full fifty folk & more have better claims & truer blood than that swine King George

You know there’s a £30 000 bounty on your head your highness – I’d never have to work again


I’m only jesting Mrs Macdonald

I appreciate a little humour – the past few months have been ones of constant nervous tension & & physical extremity

Betty gets a blouse & skirt

Here you are your highness

Thank you Betty

Thank you so much Flora – you are a wee angel in all this darkness

I’m only doing my duty sir – now your highness, lets take a look at ya – ah you don’t make a bad lass at all

This could well work

Well, we wont know til we try – Betty, go & tell Rabbie we’ll be taking his boat to Skye – but not a word about our guests

Right you are Mrs Macdonald

Exit Betty

Thank you once again Flora – my father will be sure to reward you very handsomely

Just seeing you face & hearing your pretty voice is all I need, your highness

SCENE 21 – South Uist, a quayside

Rabbie is readying his boat / two British soldiers are observing

Soldier A
How the hell did he we end up here Pete

Soldier B
Its beautiful tho, innit,

Soldier A
Beautiful – since when was freezing yer bollox off beautiful

Soldier B
But look at the mountains & the sea & all that – its much better than back home

Soldier A
At least there’s women in Bradford

Soldier B
Well, of a sort

Soldier A
There’s nothing up here but hags & sheep – wait a minute, I take that back, there’s a couple of fine beauties coming right now – well, actually I don’t like yours much

Enter Flora & Charlie

Soldier A
Alright girls, what you up to

I am Flora MacDonald & this is my maid Betty, we are travelling to Skye to see relations

Soldiers look them up & down

Your maid is one of the ugliest women I’ve ever seen

Do they not teach you dignity in England

Soldier A
I’m sorry miss – Pete apologise to the ladies

Soldier B
Sorry ma’am

Soldier A
Go on, on you go

This way girls

Flora & the Prince board Rabbie’s boat

Soldier A
We might as well go have a drink, eh – this one’s the only boat in the harbour – there’s nowt coming in

Soldier A
Good idea

Soldiers begin to leave

Soldier A
Wait a minute… ladies, we are on the lookout for the rebel & fugitive, Charles Edward Stewart – if you do so happen to see him we would be very much obliged if you could inform of us of ‘is whereabouts

Of course – you will be the first know

Soldier A
Good – right, happy sailing

Good god, that was close

Just keep calm

Right, that’s us

The boat slips from the harbour / Enter Betty singing


Speed bonnie boat like a bird on the wing
Onward the sailors cry.
Carry the lad that’s born to be king
Over the sea to Skye

Loud the wind howls
Loud the waves roar
Thunderclaps rend the air
Baffled our foes
Stand by the shore
Follow they will not dare

Speed bonnie boat like a bird on the wing
Onward the sailors cry.
Carry the lad that’s born to be king
Over the sea to Skye

Many’s the lad fought on that day
Well the claymore did wield
When the night came
Silently lain
Dead on Colloden field

Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward! the sailors cry;
Carry the lad that’s born to be King
Over the sea to Skye.

Burned are their homes, exile and death
Scatter the loyal men;
Yet e’er the sword cool in the sheath
Charlie will come again.

Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward! the sailors cry;
Carry the lad that’s born to be King
Over the sea to Skye.

SCENE 22 – Loch-nan-Uamh

20th September 1946 / The Bonnie Prince is ready to be picked up by a French ship / he waits by a loch with some locals & his followers – a boat comes into sight

Sir! look, a frigate – look, tis the L’Heureux
The flag o’ France there flapping mid the sail
By heaven’s grace the time has come tae go
Frae rock tae rock traversed the tangled trail
Ushering us to safety on these waves –
Nae more camping in the open weather
Nae more forest huts & nae more caves,
Nae more hiding in the purple heather,
Nae more eating cold oatmeal with sea-shell
Sir, did ye hear the splash, an anchor fell!

My friends, this is the end I do suppose
The end of all our dreams & this the end
Of those brave days, the end of all our woes
& all the glory that we did intend
I beg thee to be free from misery
Tho I more hardship willing to endure
If it would help you & my poor contree
I swear in Paris I shall find the cure
Forever in my heart are those that fell
Good luck my friends I bid thee all fare well…

Gid luck tae us! aye! that man has a nerve
The gaols are full of aw oor fighting men
They hae robbed us of aw oor native verve
Sae many butchers ride fae glen to glen
Scouring the contree wi’ bitter thunder
4Razing oor homes, raping oor ain lasses
& chorin cattle… laden wi’ plunder
They harry us frae peaks tae the passes
Oor pipes outlawed, weapons seized or hidden
& e’en the tartan whit’s bin forbidden!

Calm yersell man, we aw gave fer the cause
& ne’er pretty when men gan to the wars
A’ saw yer laughing back at Prestonpans
A’ saw yer dancing wi’ the other clans
Och! many chiefs have sacrificed their wealth
For yon young man, but still we toast his health
His white rose on oor hearts fore’er displayed
He jeopardis’d his life, through blood did wade,
To fight oor battles, aye! that man was brave!
I gan tae watch his boat frae Cluny’s cave…

Flora McDonald
Aye! there he goes, & well I hope he flies
His sleekit boat a lucky wind to win
Us common folk bless’d tae ha’ seen his eyes
Thir are few in this world that are akin
Altho he left the land worse than he found
& half oor lot be rotting on the Thames
The rest a petty word from bein’ bound
Only a bitter few his name condemns
For while the thistle grows upon the glen
He is a Bonnie Prince among all men

The Prince exchanges British life
For one of exiled royal
& tho’ his coming caused much strife
Both highland chief & farmer’s wife
Forever shall be loyal

SCENE 23 – A Highland Coastline

Enter Angus – he recites a poem

Mourn, hapless Caledonia, mourn
Thy banish’d peace, thy laurels torn!
Thy sons, for valour long renown’d,
Lie slaughter’d on their native ground;

Thy hospitable roofs no more
Invite the stranger to the door:—
In smoky ruins sunk they lie,
The monuments of cruelty.

Thy swains are famish’d on the rocks
Where once they fed their wanton flocks:
Thy ravish’d virgins shriek in vain;
Thy infants perish on the plain.

Thy towering spirit now is broke,
Thy neck is bended to the yoke:—
What foreign arms could never quell
By civil rage and rancour fell.

The rural pipe and merry lay
No more shall cheer the happy day;
No social scenes of gay delight
Beguile the dreary winter night;

No strains but those of sorrow flow,
And nought be heard but sounds of woe,—
While the pale phantoms of the slain
Glide nightly o’er the silent plain.

Yet, when the rage of battle ceased,
The victor’s soul was not appeased;—
The naked and forlorn must feel
Devouring flames and murdering steel!

The pious mother, doom’d to death,
Forsaken wanders o’er the heath:
The bleak wind whistles round her head,
Her helpless orphans cry for bread:

Bereft of shelter, food, and friend,
She views the shades of night descend;
And, stretch’d beneath the inclement skies,
Weeps o’er her tender babes, and dies.

And, spite of her insulting foe,
My sympathising verse shall flow.
Mourn, hapless Caledonia, mourn
Thy banish’d peace, thy laurels torn!

One by one the Highlanders, dead & alive, step out onto the stage


Come boat me over, come ferry me o’er
Come boat me over tae Charlie
Hear the call once but never again
To carry me over tae Charlie

We’ll over the water, We’ll over the sea,
We’ll over the water to Charlie!
Come weal, come woe, we’ll gather and go,
And live or die wi’ Charlie!

I swear by moon and stars sae bright
Sun that shines sae dearly
If I had twenty thousand lives
I’d lose them all for Charlie

We’ll over the water, We’ll over the sea,
We’ll over the water to Charlie!
Come weal, come woe, we’ll gather and go,
And live or die wi’ Charlie!

It’s well I lo’e me Charlie’s name
Tho some there be abhor him
But O tae see Auld Nick gaun hame
And Charlie’s face afore him

We’ll over the water, We’ll over the sea,
We’ll over the water to Charlie!
Come weal, come woe, we’ll gather and go,
And live or die wi’ Charlie!

We’ll over the water, We’ll over the sea,
We’ll over the water to Charlie!
Come weal, come woe, we’ll gather and go,
And live or die wi’ Charlie!