The Laird of Bonnie Doon


New documentary & photographic
evidence has been unearthed that
Bruce de Redpath was crowned
King of Anglo Saxon England
on the 19th of October 1066.
Apparently, when the remaining
English Lords huddled in London
learned of King Harold’s demise
at the Battle of Hastings, they
turned to a Scotsman to fend
off Duke William of Normandy
(known to his friends as
William the Bastard, and
the Stormin’ Norman).

Bruce de Redpath was the true hero
at the Battle of Stamford Bridge
having slain King Harald Harada
of Norway. Thus putting to an
end centuries of Viking marauding.
Naturally the English King Harold
took all the credit.

After his hurried coronation
King Bruce I(the one & only),
knowing the Peers of the Realm
would soon betray him and
bend the knee to Duke William,
decided to leave the English
Lords to their fate …
and migrate to Australia.

So William the Conqueror
was crowned on Christmas day
1066 at Westminster Abbey.
As a departing yuletide gift
to the Norman Duke, having
taken the real one him, King
Bruce left a papier-mâché
crown, “as befits a Frenchie”,
to be used at William’s
erroneous coronation. And as
a not so subtle reminder of
the feudal law that, ‘Whilst the
King anointed breatheth still
there can ne’er be another’.
A statute still in effect today!

Thus the bold display of the
crown above the Southern Cross
on both Victorian and Australian
Coat of Arms, representing the
legitimate claim of sovereignty
by the true heirs to the British

The implications are profound,
especially for Wills and Kate.
The well stream of Scottish
literature* has been dredged
and the truth flushed out, despite
the Norman attempt to erase all
record of the Redpath Coronation.
History is written by the victors,
but the Norman version of events
has proven to be a tapestry of lies.

The relevant documentation has
now been referred to the Privy
Council for adjudication.
Charles & Camilla have been
advised to check the small print
on their work contracts, along
with the rest of the family

The Scottish tradition of donning
paper crowns at the Christmas feast
is now seen as having it’s roots in
these recently rediscovered events.

According to native folklore
the Bruce settled somewhere north
of Port Phillip Bay, declaring;
“This is the place for a distillery.
To distill some peace & prosperity.”
Despite the Evil Empire striking
back, and turning the place into
a prison camp. It would seem, with
the reign of William,
the Anglais acquired a taste for
taking other people’s tribal lands,
by force.
Or has it ever been thus ?
Since in the Garden the serpent
first played his hand, with a
finger on the scales …
All Humanity in the balance.
So you’d better watch out.
You had better think twice
whether you’ve been
naughty or nice ?


* In a chauvinistic time
of barbaric bloodshed
brutality and misogyny
(much like today)
that some
especially the dumb
call the Age of Chivalry
it befell a peace loving
Laird to defend his land
his subjects and family.

With the fast approaching
oncoming Norman gloom
the sassenach aristocrats
turned to a brave Laird
from Bonnie Doon.
The Sword-Bearer
of Rakkenrune ~
the Viking Slayer and
Bestower of Roman Doom
in the hands of the Clan
from Bonnie Doon.
A weapon that could cleave
asunder any and many
an enemy shield.
Given unto Sir Bruce
by the Lady of the Loch
to righteously wield
with a Kingdom at stake.
Fighting for the good
for goodness sake.
That be no crock.
That be the Lassie
exotic and aquatic
of Loch Mullardoch.

So upon Laird Redpath’s
regal head
was duly placed
the English Crown
by the nobles
all full of dread
down in old London town.
The crown and sceptre
freely given.
Nay! Not purloined.
By the Bruce freely taken
for safe keeping.
After all …
he was a Scotsman.
And with great regret
since William first sat
upon that throne
with a paper hat
the English succession
has been distinctly

Knowing the barons craven
would not now nor ever
stand firm and true
with a hop and a skip
the Bruce did a flip
and shot straight through.
The Son of Gaelic Thunder
heading Down Under.
To the land
of the Never Never
with a pouch full
of royal treasure
went the Big Red
that flying kangaroo.
Noblesse Oblige …
‘Twas far nobler he fled
in no particular hurry
leaving the sassenachs
post-haste to taste
some Norman mercy.

Some say the Monarch
took to the sky
like a royal butterfly.
The exodus
most gracious
of the righteous
Maximus Rex.
With his maiden fair
to soon marry ~
the Irish Wildflower
of Dawson Valley
~ his squire and
vassals loyal
all worldly goods
for to carry,
the Laird Royal
bid farewell
to Bonnie Doon castle.
There to no longer tarry.
And with nought of a care
to be found anywhere
for the good order
of the British Empire.
Being the Mother
… of all hastle.

William the Norman
found despairing
to be wearing
a crown made of paper for
his Christmas coronation.
Appearing as out of
some festive bon bon
upon the frenchman’s head
a most pretty decoration.
He ordered his soldiers
to search all around
for that missing crown.
In a fit of frustration
the ‘Gangsta of Hastings’
then bade them
to burn London down.
Down to the ground.
Down to it’s foundation.

And yet another
message on parchment
from the Knight Caledonian
to the poor folk of London
stamped with the Great Seal
and so signed …
~ The Real Royal Deal.
Thus disregarding
the Duke Norman’s claim
with an overture declaring
~ Tell William to take aim
against a sea of troubles
if the English he wish to
be ruling. Likewise he be
dreaming if that Frenchie
believeth with all the
slings and arrows of his
outrageous fortune he might
best a true Scotsman.
A proud Celt from the Clan
for whom Hadrian built a
wall in futility to ban.
Your King from the Castle.
Not some Norman rascal.
The Laird from fair Castle
Bonnie Doon.
Thus endeth the Quotation.

So dear reader
all that is left to say
apart from a hearty
“Scots Wha Hae”
is in your heart of hearts
be sure of whom you crown
on this Christmas day.

‘The Laird of Bonnie Doon’
~ by Sir Walter Scotch


The Laird of whom
wandering minstrel still sing;
“Steal a little and they
throw you in jail
Steal a lot and they make you king
So King Bruce stole the lot
to fit right royally in.”
~ The bard, Robert MacDylan


Irroofutable Evidence;
‘The Crest Victorious’
Victoria’s Coat of Arms,
starring ‘Big Red’, the
original Flying Kangaroo.
Referred to in medieval
Norman writings as
‘that thieving roo’.



Each year on the 19th day
of October a lone piper
plays at Castle Bonnie Doon.
The absent Laird & King
… to always remember.

And later that evening
a highland fling


… being flung.


The Lady of Loch Mullardoch.
According to legend,
the much sought after
weapon of mass destruction,
was returned to the Lady via
Lake Eildon. In safe keeping
for some future generation.


Ancient Druid prophesies
foretell the return to
Castle Bonnie Doon
of the legendary Rakkenrune,
brother sword to Caliburn;

* ‘Then once again
a Celt true blue
will take back
his rightful seat
upon Arthur’s throne.
The place where the
Stones of Destiny are
destined to ever be.
Pictavia’s Royal Stones
by the lowlanders
once stolen.
Like the toss of a caber
and a highland fling
the usurpers out thrown.
From Caledonia to Hibernia
to Avalon and back again
indeed the British Isles
entire ~ a right royal

The ‘Celtic Prognostications’
indicate these events will
herald in a time for severing
all bondages that bind
Scotland to England,
and England to Normandy,
along with it’s union
of surrounding kingdoms
and fiefdoms. Then poor
England’s only hope of
economic salvation would
be by turning back to God,
and to the once jilted
Commonwealth of Nations.
… And not a wee moment
too soon, according to
ancient Druid tradition.

*The Book of Picts
(Revised Edition)


The Valley Red Path as
viewed from Scott’s Lookout,
after a few wee drams,
somewhere south of Brigadoon.
‘Tis said that the ‘Red’ is
for the blood of the foreign
invaders, over the ages
… shed in utter failure.


The three boar heads,
plastered upon the shield
of the Redpath Coat of Arms,
represent the Romans, Vikings,
and of course, the Sassenachs.
Often referred to in Scottish
literature as the
‘three little pigs’, who
all, in turn, failed to blow
the Celtic Wolf’s house down.
Typically, english historians
later completely turned the
story around.

The ever after happy ending.


The diaspora returning.

David Bruce Redpath © 2017

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