. Culloden, April 16, 1746 In the Winter of 1745, the Jacobite army of Bonnie Prince Charlie passed through my town of Leek on the way to Derby. This was as far as they got before retreating back to the highlands, chased by the Duke of Cumberland, all the way to the slaughter of Culloden. The surrounding Moorlands can be quite spooky in Winter and many folk have heard the sound of bagpipes, particularly when misty. In the deepest, dark December, Far beneath our Moorland sky See a band of soldiers marching, Pipes are playing, banners fly. Hear the cry for Caledonia, Snow is gently falling down. See the ragged Highland army, Make its passage through our town. See the English Redcoat soldier, Hardened to his task in hand. Cumberland, he’ll give no quarter, Heading north across the land. Hear the cry of desperation, Lost, the prize of England’s crown. See the ragged Highland army, Running swiftly from our town. See them on the field of battle, Highland lads, they stand so proud. Many miles they’ve shared together, Nothing can divide them now. Hear the mighty crash of cannon, Loud the plaintive battle-cry. Blood is mingled with the heather, ‘Neath a dark and dreary sky. Now if you go Winter walking, On our misty moorland wide. When the stars of bold Orion, March across the evening sky. Hear the sad, lamenting piper, On the wind that gently moans. Leading out the Highland army, Ever marching, marching home. . . Jeff Eardley lives in the heart of England near to the Peak District National Park and is a local musician playing guitar, mandolin and piano steeped in the music of America, including the likes of Ry Cooder, Paul Simon, and particularly Hank Williams.