The Bloody Sarks

Trad

The young McGregor o Glen Strae wi eighty o his men
Upon the Argyll sleekit word pit Finla’s glen a flame
The burning theiving hieland rant drove a the beast awa
And left ahint twa dirkit men to perish in the snaw

By Fallisdall the letter come frae black Dumbarton toon
To show the way they were tae bring McGregor doon
The bloody sarks o butchered men tae Jamie’s court maun gae
The widow women for to show and tell of the afray

Colquhoun o Luss could thole nae mair wi trampeled savaged pride
Buchanan levies mounted up to tan McGregor hide
From Leven’s vale, Dumbarton toon and all these lowland parts
The burgesses and fairmers came wi vengeance in their hearts

The Campbell and the Cameron, MacDonald o Glencoe
Ranked alang wi Gregorach and marched o’er the snaw
Far o’er the loch frae Arklet glen and doon the past Parlan
By Loch Long whose shores are held by the thieves o MacFarlane

Colquhoun wi his lowland mob lined o’er the Fruin glen
Five hundred foot, arrayed aboot three hundred moutned men
Yon godless hoard o Gregorach and others o their kind
Will creep nae mair frae their lair wi murdering in their minds

Aye whether be it for some stirks or just a ween o blacks
They’re ay’ways quick thier dirks to stick in ain anither backs
For honest men and guid Scots law we’ll tramp the vermin oot
Just steady bide God’s on our side o that there is nae doubt

Then like a torrent frae the glen McGregor’s scarlet charge
The sassenach could ne’er withstand the claymore and the targe
And all around the hellish screams o torn and dying men
Their precious blood seeped in the mud and drained in Fruin Glen

And every beast was lead awa a full twa thoosand heid
And the sairest price the victors paid was twa McGregors dead
But bide ye yet the victor’s feast the worst still to show
For the king proclaimed the Gregorach henceforth to be outlaw

Aye the bold McGregor and his clan were a declared outlaw

This is a song about the massacre that happened in Glen Fruin on the west coast of Scotland.