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LAYS OF THE SCOTHSH CAVALIERS

AKD OTHEB POEMS

LAYS

THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS

AND OTHER POEMS

BT

WILLIAM EDMONDSTOUNE _AYTOUN

D.C.L.
PRornaoK or rhitoric amo ■nni.nM utrbaturr in

THII UMIVnUITV or IDINVUROH

!fINETB£NTH EDITION

(^WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS

EDINBURGH AND LONDON
MDCCCLXVII

oS^'^a^, ^¥

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

ARCHIBALD WILLIAM MONTGOMERIE,
Carl of lEgUnton anO 9Btinton, 'SiM.p

THE PATRIOTIC AND NOBLE REPRESENTATIVE OP
AN ANCIENT SCOTTISH RACE,

THIS VOLUME IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED

BY THE AUTHOR.

u

CONTENTS

LAIS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS

TA09

EDINBURGH AFTBR FLODDEN 8

THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE 85

THE HEART OF THE BRUCE 61

THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE 83

THE WIDOW OF OLENCOE 119

THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS U5

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES 175

THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER 239

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS

BUND OLD MILTON 268

SERMOTDfUS 278

(ENONE. 290

THE BURIED FLOWER 295

THE OLD CAMP 309

DANUBE Ain> THE EUXINE 314

Vlll CONTENTS.

MISCELLANEOUS P E M S-(Con/inM<(f)

the scheik of sinai 818

epitaph of c0n8tantine kanabir 825

the refusal of charon 327

.aAPPENDIX

EXAMINATION OF THE STATEMENTS IN MR MACAUIAY'S
HISTORY OF ENGLAND, REGARDING JOHN GUAHAME
OF CLAVERHOUSE, VISCOUNT OF DUNDKE 338

LAYS

THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS

EDINBURGH

FLOD DE N

The great battle of Flodden was fought upon the
9th of September 1513. The defeat of the Scot,
tish anny, resulting mainly from the fantastic ideas
of chivalry entertained by James IV., and his
refusal to avail himself of the natural advantages
of his position, was by far the most disastrous of
any recounted in the history of the northern wars.
The whole strength of the kingdom, both Lowland
and Highland, was assembled, and the contest was

4 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

one of the sternest and most desperate upon
record.

For several hours the issue seemed doubtful.
On the left the Scots obtained a decided advan-
tage; on the right wing they were broken and
overthrown ; and at last the whole weight of the
battle was brought into the centre, where King
James and the Earl of Surrey commanded in per-
son. The determined valour of James, imprudent
as it was, had the effect of rousing to a pitch of
desperation the courage of the meanest soldiers;
and the ground becoming soft and slippery from
blood, they pulled off their boots and shoes, and
secured a firmer footing by fighting in their hose.
"It is owned," says Abercromby, "that both
parties did wonders, but none on either side per-
formed more than the King himself. He was
again told that, by coming to handy blows, he
could do no more than another man, whereas, by
keeping the post due to his station, he might be
worth many thousands. Yet he would not only
fight in person, but also on foot ; for he no sooner

EDINBUROH AFTER FLODDEN. 5

saw that body of the English give way which was
defeated by the Earl of Huntly, but he alighted
from his horse, and commanded his guard of noble-
men and gentlemen to do the like and follow him.
He had at first abundance of success; but at length
the Lord Thomas Howard and Sir Edward Stanley,
who had defeated their opposites, coming in with
the Lord Dacre's horse, and surrounding the King's
battalion on all sides, the Scots were so distressed
that, for their last defence, they cast themselves
into a ring; and, being resolved to die nobly
with their sovereign, who scorned to ask quar-
ter, were altogether cut off. So say the English
writers, and I am apt to believe that they are
in the right."

The combat was maintained with desperate fury
until nightfall. At the close, according to Mr
Tytler, "Surrey was uncertain of the result of
the battle : the remains of the enemy's centre
still held the field; Home, with his Borderers,
still hovered on the left; and the commander
wisely allowed neither pursuit nor plunder, but

6 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

drew off his men, and kept a strict watch during
the night. When the morning broke, the Scot-
tish artillery were seen standing deserted on
the side of the hill : their defenders had disap-
peared ; and the Earl ordered thanks to he given
for a victory which was no longer doubtful.. Yet,
even after all this, a body of the Scots appeared
unbroken upon a hill, and were about to charge
the Lord Admiral, when they were compelled to
leave their position by a discharge of the English
ordnance.

" The loss of the Scots in this fatal battle
amounted to about ten thousand men. Of these
a great proportion were of high rank ; the remain-
der being composed of the gentry, the farmers,
and landed yeomanry, who disdained to fly when
their sovereign and his nobles lay stretched in
heaps around them." Besides King James, there
fell at Flodden the Archbishop of St Andrews,
thirteen earls, two bishops, two abbots, fifteen
lords and chiefs of clans, and five peers* eldest
sons, besides La Motte the French ambassador,

EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 7

and the secretary of the King. The same his-
torian adds — " The names of the gentry who fell
are too numerous for recapitulation, since there
were few families of note in Scotland which did
not lose one relative or another, whilst some houses
had to weep the death of all. It is from this
cause that the sensations of sorrow and national
lamentation occasioned by the defeat were pecu-
liarly poignant and lasting — so that to this day
few Scotsmen can hear the name of Flodden with-
out a shudder of gloomy regret."

The loss to Edinburgh on this occasion was
peculiarly great. 'AH the magistrates and able-
bodied citizens had followed their King to Flod-
den, whence very few of them returned. The
office of Provost or chief magistrate of the capital
was at that time an object of ambition, and was
conferred only upon persons of high rank and
station. There seems to be some uncertainty
whether the holder of this dignity at the time of
the battle of Flodden was Sir Alexander Lauder,
ancestor of the Fountainhall family, who was

8 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

elected in 1511, or that great historical personage,
Archibald Earl of Angus, better known as Archi-
bald Bell-the-Cat, who was chosen in 1513, the
year of the battle. Eoth of them were at Mod-
den. The name of Sir Alexander Lauder appears
upon the list of the slain. Angus was one of the
survivors; but his son, George, Master of Angus,
fell fighting gallantly by the side of King James.
The city records of Edinburgh, which commence
about this period, are not clear upon the point, and
I am rather inclined to think that the Earl of
Angus was elected to supply the place of Lauder.
But although the actual magistrates were absent,
they had formally nominated deputies in their
stead. I find, on referring to the city records,
that " George of Tours " had been appointed to
officiate in the absence of the Provost, and that
four other persons were selected to discharge the
office of bailies until the magistrates should re-
turn.

It is impossible to describe the consternation
which pervaded the whole of Scotland when the

EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 9

intelligence of the defeat became known. In
Edinbuigh it was excessive. Mr Amot, in the
history of that city, says —

" The news of their overthrow in the field
of Flodden reached Edinburgh on the day after
the battle, and overwhelmed the inhabitants with
grief and confusion. The streets were crowded
with women seeking intelligence about their
Mends, clamouring and weeping. Those who
officiated in absence of the magistrates proved
themselves worthy of the trust. They issued a
proclamation, ordering all the inhabitants to as-
semble in military array for defence of the city, on
the tolling of the bell ; and commanding, * that
all women, and especially strangers, do repair
to their work, and not be seen upon the street
clamorand and cry and; and that women of the
better sort do repair to the church and offer up
prayers, at the stated hours, for our Sovereign
Lord and his army, and the townsmen who are
with the army.'"

Indeed, the Council records bear ample evidence

10 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

of the emergency of that occasion. Throughout
the earlier pages, the word "Flowdoun" frequent-
ly occurs on the margin, in reference to various
hurried orders for arming and defence ; and there
can he no douht that, had the English forces
attempted to follow up then* victory, and attack
the Scottish capital, the citizens would have re-
sisted to the last. But it soon became apparent
that the loss sustained hy the English was so
severe, that Surrey was in no condition to avail
himself of the opportunity; and in fact, shortly
afterwards, he was compelled to disband his army.
The references to the city banner contained in
the following poem, may require a word of explan-
ation. It is a standard still held in great hon-
our and reverence by the burghers of Edinburgh,
having been presented to them by James III.,
in return for their loyal service in 1482. This
banner, along with that of the Earl Marischal,
still conspicuous in the Library of the Faculty of
Advocates, was honourably brought back from
Flodden, and certainly never could have been

EDINBURGH AFTER PLODDEN. 11

displayed in a more memorable field. Maitland
says, with reference to this very interesting relic
of antiquity —

"As a perpetual remembrance of the loyalty
and bravery of the Edinburghers on the aforesaid
occasion, the King granted them a banner or
standard, with a power to display the same in de-
fence of their king, country, and their own rights.
This flag is kept by the Convenor of the Trades ;
at whose appearance therewith, it is said that not
only the artificers of Edinburgh are obliged to
repair to it, but all the artisans or craftsmen
within Scotland are bound to follow it, and fight
under the Convener of Edinburgh as aforesaid."

'No event in Scottish history ever took a more
lasting hold of the public mind than the " woeful
fight " of Flodden ; and, even now, the songs and
traditions which are current on the Border recall
the memory of a contest unsullied by disgrace,
though terminating in disaster and defeat.

EDINBURGH

fLODDE N

News of battle ! — news of battle !

Hark ! 'tis ringing down the street :
And the archways and the pavement

Bear the clang of hurrying feet.^
News of battle ! who hath .brought it]

News of triumph % Who should bring
Tidings from our noble army,

Greetings from our gallant King ?

14 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

All last night we watched the beacons

Blazing on the hills afar,
Each one bearing, as it kindled.

Message of the opened war.
All night long the northern streamers

Shot across the trembling sky:
Fearful lights that never beckon

Save when kings or heroes die.

II.

News of battle ! Who hath brought it 1

All are thronging to the gate ;
"Warder — warder! open quickly!

Man — is this a time to wait % "
And the heavy gates are opened :

Tlien a murmur long and loud,
And a cry of fear and wonder

Bursts from out the bending crowd.
For they see in battered harness

Only one hard-stricken man ;
And his weary steed is wounded,

And his cheek is pale and wan :^

EDINBUBOH AFTER FLODDEN. 15

Spearless hangs a bloody banner
In his weak and drooping hand —

God ! can that be Eandolph Murray,
Captain of the city band ?

III.

Round him crush the people, crying,

" Tell us all— oh, tell us true !
Where are they who went to battle,

Eandolph Murray, sworn to you ?
Where are they, our brothers — children ?

Have they met the English foe ?
Why art thou alone, unfollowed ?

Is it weal or is it woe 1 "
Like a corpse the grisly warrior

Looks from out his helm of steel ;
But no word he speaks in answer —

Only with his armed heel
Chides his weary steed, and onward

Up the city streets they ride ;
Fathers, sisters, mothers, children.

Shrieking, praying by his side.

16 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

" By the God tliat made thee, Eandolph !

Tell us what mischance hath come."
Then he lifts his riven banner,

And the asker's voice is dumb.^

IV.

r
The elders of the city

Have met within their hall —
The men whom good King James had charged

To watch the tower and wall.
" Your hands are weak with age," he said,

" Your hearts are stout and true ;
So bide ye in the Maiden Town,

While others fight for you.
My trumpet from the Border-side

Shall send a blast so clear,
That all who wait within the gate

That stirring sound may hear.
Or, if it be the will of Heaven

That back I never come,
And if, instead of Scottish shouts.

Ye hear the English drum, —

EDINBUBOH AFTER FLODDEN. 17

Then let tlie warning bells ring out,

Then gird you to the fray,
Then man the walls like burghers stout.

And fight while fight you may.
Twere better that in fiery flame

The roofs should thunder down,
Than that the foot of foreign foe

Should trample in the town ! "

Then in came Eandolph Murray, —

His step was slow and weak.
And, as he doffed his dinted helm.

The tears ran down his cheek :
They fell upon his corslet

And on his mailM hand,
As he gazed around him wistfiilly.

Leaning sorely on his brand.
^And none who then beheld him

But straight were smote with fear.
For a bolder and a sterner man

Had never couched a spear.

B

18 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

They knew so sad a messenger
Some ghastly news must bring ;

And all of them were fathers,

And their sons were with the King;^

VI.

And up then rose the Provost —

A brave old man was he,
Of ancient name, and knightly fame,

And chivalrous degree./
He ruled our city like a Lord

Who brooked no equal here.
And ever for the townsman's rights

Stood tip 'gainst prince and peer.
And he had seen the Scottish host

March from the Borough-muir,
With music-storm and clamorous shout,
And all the din that thunders out

When youth's of victory sure.
But yet a dearer thought had he, —

Tor, with a father's pride,

EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 19

He saw his last remaining son

Go forth by Randolph's side,
With casque on head and spur on heel,

All keen to do and dare ;
And proudly did that gallant boy

Dunedin's banner bear.
Oh ! woeful now was the old man's look.

And he spake right heavily —
" Now, Randolph, tell thy tidings.

However sharp they be !
Woe is written on thy visage,

Death is looking from thy face :
Speak ! though it be of overthrow —

It cannot be disgrace ! "

VII.

Right bitter was the agony

That wrung that soldier proud :
Thrice did he strive to answer,

And thrice he groaned aloud.
Then he gave the riven banner

To the old man's shaking hand.

20 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIBBS.

Saying — " That is all I bring ye

From the bravest of the land !
Ay ! ye may look upon it —
\ It was guarded well and long,/
By your brothers and your children,

By the valiant and the strong.
One by one they fell around it,

As the archers laid them low.
Grimly dying, stiU unconquered.

With their faces to the foe.
Ay 1 ye may well look upon it —

There is more than honour there,
Else, be sure, I had not brought it

From the field of dark despair.
Never yet was royal banner

Steeped in such a costly dye;
'^It hath lain upon a bosom ^

Where no other shroud shall lie.
Sirs ! I charge you, keep it holy;

Keep it as a sacred thing.
For the stain ye see upon it
\ Was the life-blood of your King ! "

EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 21
VIII.

Woe, and woe, and lamentation I

What a piteous cry was there !
Widows, maidens, mothers, children,

Shrieking, sobbing in despair !
Through the streets the death-word rushes,

Spreading terror, sweeping on —
" Jesu Christ ! our King has fallen —

Great God, King James is gone !
Holy Mother Mary, shield us,

Thou who erst didst lose thy Son !
the blackest day for Scotland

That she ever knew before !
our King — the good, the noble.

Shall we see him never more ?
Woe to us, and woe to Scotland 1

O our sons, our sons and men !
Surely some have 'scaped the Southron,

Surely some will come again !
Till the oak that fell last winter

Shall uprear its shattered stem —

22 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

Wives and mothers of Dunedin —
Ye may look in vain for them !

IX.

But within the Council Chamber

All was silent as the grave,
Whilst the tempest of their sorrow

Shook the bosoms of the brave.
Well indeed might they be shaken

With the weight of such a blow :
He was gone — ^their prince, their idol.

Whom they loved and worshipped so !
Like a knell of death and judgment

Eung from heaven by angel hand,
Fell the words of desolation

On the elders of the land.
Hoary heads were bowed and trembling,

Withered hands were clasped and wrung ;
God had left the old and feeble.

He had ta'en away the young.

EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 23

X.

Then the Provost he uprose,

And his lip was ashen white ;
But a flush was on his brow,

And his eye was full of light.
" Thou hast spoken, Eandolph Murray,

Like a soldier stout and true ;
Thou hast done a deed of daring

Had been perilled but by few.
For thou hast not shamed to face us,

Nor to speak thy ghastly tale.
Standing — thou a knight and captain —

Here, alive within thy mail !
Now, as my God shall judge me,

I hold it braver done.
Than hadst thou tarried in thy place.

And died above my son !
Thou needst not tell it : he is dead.

God help us all this day !
But speak — ^how fought the citizens

Within the furious fray ?

24 LATS OF THB SOOTTISH CAVALIEBS.

For by the might of Mary !

'Twere something still to tell
That no Scottish foot went backward

When the Eoyal Lion fell I "

XI.

" No one failed him ! He is keeping

Eoyal state and semblance stiU ;
Knight and noble lie around him,

Cold on Flodden's fatal hill.
Of the brave and gallant-hearted,

Whom you sent with prayers away,
Xot a single man departed

From his Monarch yesterday.
Had you seen them, my masters !

When the night began to fell.
And the English spearmen gathered

Bound a grim and ghastly wall !
As the wolves in winter circle

Eound the leaguer on the heath.
So the greedy foe glared upward,

Panting stiU for blood and deatL

EDIKBT7BGH APTER FU)DD]EN. 25

But a rampart rose before them,

Whicli tlie boldest dared not scale ;
Every stone a Scottish body,

Every step a corpse in mail !
And behind it lay our Monarch,

Clenching still his shivered sword ;
£y his side Montrose and Athole,

At his feet a Southron lord.
^AU so thick they lay together.

When the stars lit up the sky,
That I knew not who were stricken,

Or who yet remained to die.
Few there were when Surrey halted,

And his wearied host withdrew ;
None but dying men around me.

When the English trumpet blew.
Then I stooped, and took the banner^

As you see it, from his breast,
And I closed our hero's eyelids.

And I left him to his rest.
In the mountains growled the thunder,

Aa I leaped the woeful wall,

26 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

And the heavy clouds were settling
Over Flodden, like a pall."

XII.

So he ended. And the others

Cared not any answer then ;
Sitting silent, dumb with sorrow,

Sitting anguish-struck, like men
Who have seen the roaring torrent

Sweep their happy homes away,
And yet linger by the margin.

Staring wildly on the spray.
But, without, the maddening tumult

Waxes ever more and more.
And the crowd of wailing women

Gather round the Council door.
Every dusky spire is ringing

With a dull and hollow knell,
And the Miserere's singing

To the tolling of the bell.
Through the streets the burghers hurry,

Spreading terror as they go ;

EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 27

And the rampart's thronged with watchers

For the coming of the foe.
From each mountain-top a pillar

Streams into the torpid air,
Bearing token from the Border

That the English host is there.
All without is flight and terror,

All within is woe and fear —
God protect thee, Maiden City, '

For thy latest hour is near !

ZIII.

No ! not yet, thou high Dunedin !

Shalt thou totter to thy fall ;
Though thy bravest and thy strongest

Are not there to man the wall.
1^0, not yet ! the ancient spirit

Of our fathers hath not gone ;
Take it to thee as a buckler

Better far than steel or stone.
Oh, remember those who perished

For thy birthright at the time

28 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIBBS.

When to be a Scot was treason,

And to side with Wallace crime !
Have they not a voice among us,

Whilst their hallowed dust is here ?
Hear ye not a summons sounding

From each buried warrior's bierl
Up !— ^they say — and keep the freedom

Which we won you long ago :
Up ! and keep our graves unsullied

From the insults of the foe !
Up ! and if ye cannot save them,

Come to us in blood and fire :
Midst the crash of falling turrets

Let the last of Scots expire !

XIV.

StUl the bells are tolling j&ercely,
And the cry comes louder in ;

Mothers wailing for their children,
Sisters for their slaughtered kin-

All is terror and disorder ;
TiU the Provost rises up,

EDINBT7BGH AFTER FLODDEN. 29

Cahn, as though lie had not tasted

Of the fell and bitter cup.^
All so stately &om his sorrow,

Eose the old undaunted chief,
That you had not deemed, to see him.

His was more than common grief.
" Eonse ye. Sirs ! " he said ; " we may not

Longer mourn for what is done ; .
If our King be taken &om us,

We are left to guard his son.
We have sworn to keep the city

From the foe, whatever they be,
And the oath that we have taken

Never shall be broke by me.
Death is nearer to us, brethren.

Than it seemed to those who died,
Fighting yesterday at Modden,

By their lord and master's side.
Let us meet it then in patience,

Not in terror or in fear ;
Though our hearts are bleeding yonder,

Let our souls be steadfast here.

30 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

Up, and rouse ye ! Time is fleeting,

And we yet have mncli to do ;
Up ! and haste ye through the city,

Stir the burghers stout and true !
Gather all our scattered people,

Fling the banner out once more, —
Eandolph Murray ! do thou bear it.

As it erst was borne before :
Never Scottish heart will leave it,

When they see their Monarch's gore 1

XV.

" Let them cease that dismal knelling !

It is time enough to ring.
When the fortress-strength of Scotland

Stoops to ruin like its King.
Let the bells be kept for warning,

Not for terror or alarm ;
When they next are heard to thunder,

Let each man and stripling arm. ^
Bid the women leave their wailing —

Do they think that woeful strain.

EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 31

From the bloody heaps of Flodden,

Can redeem their dearest slain 1
Bid them cease, — or rather hasten

To the churches every one ;
There to pray to Mary Mother,

And to her anointed Son,
That the thunderbolt above us

May not fall in ruin yet ;
That in fire and blood and rapine

Scotland's glory may not set.
Let them pray, — for never women

Stood in need of such a prayer ! —
England's yeomen shall not find them

Clinging to the altars there.
No ! if we are doomed to perish,

Man and maiden, let us fall,
And a common gulf of ruin

Open wide to whelm us all !
Never shall the ruthless spoiler

Lay his hot insulting hand
On the sisters of our heroes,

Whilst we bear a torch or brand !

32 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

Up ! and rouse ye, then, my brothers,-

But when next ye hear the bell
Sounding forth the sullen summons

That may be our funeral knell,
Once more let us meet together.

Once more see each other's face ;
Then, like men that need not tremble,

Go to our appointed place.
God, our Father, will not fail us,

In that last tremendous hour, —
If all other bulwarks crumble,

He will be our strength and tower :
Though the ramparts rock beneath us.

And the walls go crashing down.
Though the roar of conflagration

Bellow o'er the sinking town ;
There is yet one place of shelter.

Where the foemen cannot come.
Where the summons never sounded

Of the trumpet or the drum.
There again we'U meet our children,

Who, on riodden's trampled sod,

EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 33

For their king and for their country
Eendered up their souls to God.

There shall we find rest and refuge,
With our dear departed brave ;

And the ashes of the city
Be our universal grave ! "^

THE EXECUTION

MONTROSE

The most poetical chronicler would find it impos-
sible to render the incidents of Montrose^s brilliant
career more picturesque than the reality. Among
the devoted champions who, during the wildest and
most stormy period of our history, maintained the
cause of Church and King, "the Great Marquis" un-
doubtedly is entitled to the foremost place. Even
party malevolence, by no means extinct at the pre-
sent day, has been unable to detract from the eulogy

36 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

pronounced upon him by the famous Cardinal de
Ketz, the friend of Conde and Turenne, when he
thus summed up his character : — " Montrose, a
Scottish nobleman, head of the house of Grahame
— the only man in the world that has ever realised
to me the ideas of certain heroes, whom we now
discover nowhere but in the lives of Plutarch —
has sustained in his own country the cause of the
King his master, with a greatness of soul that has
not found its equal in our age."

But the success of the victorious leader and
patriot is almost thrown into the shade by the
noble magnanimity and Christian heroism of the
man in the hour of defeat and death. Without
wishing, in any degree, to revive a controversy
long maintained by writers of opposite political
and polemical opinions, it may fairly be stated that
Scottish history does not present us with a tragedy
of parallel interest. That the execution of Mon-
trose was the natural, nay, the inevitable, conse-
quence of his capture, may be freely admitted even
by the fiercest partisan of the cause for which he

THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE. 37

staked his life. In those times, neither party was
disposed to lenity; and Montrose was far too con-,
spicuous a character, and too dangerous a man,
to be forgiven. But the ignominious and savage
treatment which he received at the hands of those
whose station and descent should at least have
taught them to respect misfortune, has left an in-
delible stain upon the memory of the Covenanting
chiefs, and more especially upon that of Argyle.

The perfect serenity of the man in the hour
of trial and death, the courage and magnanimity
which he displayed to the last, have been dwelt
upon ^vith admiration by writers of every class.
He heard his sentence delivered without any appa-
rent emotion, and afterwards told the magistrates
who waited upon him in prison, "that he was much
indebted to the Parliament for the great honour
they had decreed him;" adding, "that he was'
prouder to have his head placed upon the top
of the prison, than if they had decreed a golden
statue to be erected to him in the market-place, or
that his picture should be hung in the King's bed-

38 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

chamber." He said, "he thanked them for their
care to preserve the remembrance of his loyalty, by
transmitting such monuments to the different parts
of the kingdom ; and only wished that he had flesh
enough to have sent a piece to every city in Chris-
tendom, as a token of his unshaken love and fide-
lity to his king and country." On the night before
his execution, he inscribed the following lines with
a diamond on the window of his jail : —

" Let them bestow on every airth a Umb,
Then open all my veins, that I may swim
To thee, my Maker ! in that crimson lake ;
Then place my parboiled head upon a stake —
Scatter my ashes — strew them in the air ;
Lord ! since thou knowest where all these atoms are,
I'm hopeful thou'lt recover once my dust.
And confident thou'lt raise me with the just."

After the Eestoration the dust was recovered,
the scattered remnants collected, and the bones of
the hero conveyed to their final resting-place by a
numerous assemblage of gentlemen of his family
and name.

THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE. 39

There is no ingredient of fiction in the historical
incidents recorded in the following ballad. The
indignities that were heaped upon Montrose during
his procession through Edinburgh, his appearance
before the Estates, and his last passage to the scaf-
fold, as well as his undaunted bearing, have all been
spoken to by eyewitnesses of the scene. A graphic
and vivid sketch of the whole will be found in Mr
Mark Napier's volume, "The Life and Times of
Montrose " — a. work as chivalrous in its tone as the
Chronicles of Froissart, and abounding in original
and most interesting materials; but, in order to
satisfy all scruple, the authorities for each fact are
given in the shape of notes. The ballad may be
considered as a narrative of the transactions, re-
lated by an aged Highlander, who had followed
Montrose throughout his campaigns, to his grand-
son, shortly before the battle of Killiecrankie.

THE EXECUTION

MONTROSE

Come hither, Evan Cameron !

Come, stand beside my knee —
I hear the river roaring down

Towards the wintry sea.
There's shouting on the monntain-side,

There's war wjthin the blast —
Old faces look upon me,

Old forms go trooping past :

42 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

I hear the pibroch wailing

Amidst the din of fight,
And my dim spirit wakes again

Upon the verge of night.

II.

'Twas I that led the Highland host

Through wild Lochaber's snows,
What time the plaided clans came down

To battle with Montrose.
I've told thee how the Southrons fell

Beneath the broad claymore.
And how we smote the Campbell clan

By Inverlochy's shore.
I've told thee how we swept Dundee,

And tamed the Lindsays' pride ;
But never have I told thee yet

How the great Marquis died.

A traitor sold him to his foes ;
deed of deathless shame !

THE EXECUTION OP MONTROSE. 43

I charge thee, boy, if e'er thou meet

With one of Assynt's name —
Be it upon the mountain's side.

Or yet within the glen,
Stand he in martial gear alone,

Or backed by anned men —
Face liim, as thou wouldst face the man

Who wronged thy sire's renown ;
Remember of what blood thou art.

And strike the caitiff down !

IV.

They brought liim to the Watergate,

Hard bound with hempen span.
As though they held a lion there.

And not a fenceless man.
They set him high upon a cart —

The hangman rode below —
They drew his hands behind his back,

And bared his noble brow.
Then, as a hound is slipped from leash.

They cheered the common thi*ong.

44 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

And blew the note with yell and shout,
And bade him pass along.

It would have made a brave man's heart

Grow sad and sick that day,
To watch the keen malignant eyes

Bent down on that array.
There stood the Whig west-country lords,

In balcony and bow ;
Tliere sat their gaunt and withered dames,

And their daughters all a-row.
And every open window

Was full as fuU might be
With black-robed Covenanting carles,

That goodly sport to see !

TI.

But when he came, though pale and wan,

He looked so great and high,
So noble was his manly front.

So calm his steadfast eye ; —

THE EXECUTION OP MONTROSE. 45

The rabble rout forbore to shout,

Ami each man held his breath,
For well they knew the hero's soul

Was fiice to face with death.
And then a mournful shudder

Through all the people crept,
And some that came to scoff at him

Xow tiimed aside and wept.

VII.

But onwards — always onwards.

In silence and in gloom.
The dreary pageant laboured,

Till it reached the house of doom.
Then first a woman's voice was heard

In jeer and laughter loud.
And an angry cry and a liiss arose*

From the heart of the tossing crowd :
Then as the Graeme looked upwards,

He saw the ugly smile
Of him who sold his kiiig for gold —

The master-fiend Argyle I

46 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

VIII.

The Marquis gazed a moment,

And nothing did he say,
But the cheek of Argyle grew ghastly pale,

And he turned his eyes away.
The painted harlot by his side,

She shook through every liihb,
For a roar like thunder swept the street,

And hands were clenched at him ;
And a Saxon soldier cried aloud,

" Back, coward, from thy place !
For seven long years thou hast not dared

To look him in the face."

IX.

Had I been there v^dth sword in hand,

And fifty Camerons by,
That day through high Dunedin's streets

Had pealed the slogan-cry.
Not all their troops of trampling horse,

Nor might of mailfed men —

THE EXECUTION OP MONTROSE. 47

Not all the rebels in the south

Had home us backwards then !
Once more his foot on Highland heath

Had trod as free as air,
Or I, and all who bore my neune,

Been laid around him there !

X.

It might not be. Th^y placed him next

Within the solemn hall,
Where oncQ the Scottish kings were throned

Amidst their nobles all.
But there was dust of vulgar feet

On that polluted floor,
And perjured traitors filled the place

Where good men sate before.
With savage glee came Warristoun

To read the murderous doom ;
And then uprose the great Montrose

In the middle of the room.

V

48 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

XI.

*' Xow, by my faith as belted knight,

And by the name I bear,
And by the bright Saint Andrew's cross

That waves above us there —
Yea, by a greater, mightier oath —

And oh, that such should be ! —
By that dark stream of royal blood

That lies 'twixt you and me —
I have not sought in battle-field

A ^vreath of such renown,
Nor dared I hope on my dying day

To win the martyr's crown !

ICII.

" There is a chamber far away
Where sleep the good and brave,

But a better place ye have named for me
Than by my father's grave.

For truth and right, 'gainst treason's might,
This hand liath always striven,

THE EXECUTION OP MONTROSE. 49

And ye raise it up for a witness still

In the eye of earth and heaven.
Then nail my head on yonder tower —

Give every town a limb —
And God who made shall gather them :

I go from you to Him ! " ^

XIII.

The morning dawned full darkly,

The rain came flashing down,
And the jagged streak of the levin-bolt

Lit up the gloomy town :
The thunder crashed across the heaven,

The fatal hour was come ;
Yet aye broke in with muffled beat,
/i. I The 'larm of the drum.

There was madness on the earth below

And anger in the sky,
And young and old, and rich and poor.

Came forth to see him die.

D

50 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

XIV.

Ah, God ! that ghastly gibbet 1

How dismal 'tis to see
The great tall spectral skeleton,

The ladder and the tree !
Hark ! hark ! it is the clash of arms —

The bells begin to toll —
" He is coming ! he is coming !

God*s mercy on his soul !"
One last long peal of thunder —

The clouds are cleared away,
And the glorious sun once more looks down

Amidst the dazzling day.

XV.

" He is coming ! he is coming !"
Like a bridegroom from his room,

Came the hero from his prison
To the scaffold and the doom.

There was glory on his forehead,
There was lustre in his eye.

THE EXECUTION OP MONTROSE. 61

And he never walked to battle

More proudly than to die :
There was colour in his visage,

Though the cheeks of all were wan,
And they marvelled as they saw him pass,

That great and goodly man !

XVI.

He mounted up the scaflFold,

And he turned him to the crowd ;
But they dared not trust the people,

So he might not speak aloud.
But he looked upon the heavens,

And they were clear and blue.
And in the liquid ether

The eye of God shone through !
Yet a black and murky battlement '

Lay resting on the hill,
As though the thunder slept within —

All else was calm and still.

52 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

XVII.

The grim Geneva ministers

With anxious scowl drew near,
As you have seen the ravens flock

Around the dying deer.
He would not deign them word nor sign,

But alone he bent the knee ;
And veiled his face for Christ's dear grace

Beneath the gallows-tree.
Then radiant and serene he rose,

And cast his cloak away :
For he had ta'en his latest look

Of earth and sun and day.

A beam of light fell o'er him, ,
Like a glory round the shriven,

And he climbed the lofty ladder
As it were the path to heaven.

Then came a flash from out the cloud,
And a stunning thunder-roll ;

THE EXECUTION OF M0NTR08B. 53

And no man dared to look aloft,

For fear was on every soul.
There was another heavy sound,

A hush and then a groan ;
And darkness swept across the sky —

The work of death was done !

NOTES TO "THE EXECUTION OF MONTKOSE."

" A traitor sold him to his foes." — P. 42.

** The contemporary historian of the Earls of Sutherland
records, that (after the defeat of Invercarron) Montrose and
Kinnoul * wandered up the river Kyle the whole ensuing
niglit, and the next day, and the third day also, without any
food or sustenance, and at last came within the country of
Assynt. The Earl of Kinnoul, being faint for lack of meat,
and not able to travel any farther, was left there among
the mountains, where it w^as supposed he perished. Mon-
trose had almost famished, but that he fortuned in his
misery to light upon a small cottage in that wilderness,
where he was supplied with some milk and bread.' Not
even the iron frame of Montrose could endure a prolonged
existence under such circumstances. He gave himself up
to Macleod of Assynt, a former adherent, from whom he
had reason to expect assistance in consideration of that
circumstance, and, indeed, from the dictates of honourable
feeling and common humanity. As the Argyle faction
had sold the King, so this Highlander rendered his own
name infamous by selling the hero to the Covenanters, for
which * duty to the public ' he was rewarded with four
hundred bolls of meal."— Napier's Life of Mmitrose.

THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE. 55

** They brought him to the WaUrgate"^?. 43.

** Friday, 17 th May. — Act ordaining James Grahame to
be brought from the Watergate on a cart, bareheaded, the
hangman in his livery, covered, riding on the horse that
ilraws the cart — the prisoner to be bound to the cart with
a rope — ^to the Tolbooth of Edinbni^h, and from thence to
be brought to the Parliament House, and there, in the place
of delinquents, on his knees, to receive his sentence — viz.,
to be hanged on a gibbet at the Cross of Edinburgh, with
his book and declaration tied on a rope about his neck, and
there to hang for the space of three hours until he be dead ;
and thereafter to be cut down by the hangman, his head,
hands, and legs to be cut off, and distributed as follows : —
viz., his head to be affixed on an iron pin, and set on the
pinnacle of the west gavel of the new prison of Edinburgh ;
one hand to be set on the port of Perth, the other on the
port of Stirling ; one leg and foot on the port of Aberdeen,
the other on the port of Glasgow. If at his death penitent,
and relaxed from excommunication, then the trunk of his
body to be interred by pioneers in the Greyfriars; other-
wise, to be interred in the Boroughmuir, by the hangman's
men, under the gallows." — Balfour's Notes of Parliainent,

It is needless to remark that this inhuman sentence was
(executed to the letter. In order that the exposure might
be more complete, the cart was constructed with a high
chair in the centre, having holes behind, through whicli
Ihe ropes that fastened him were drawn. The author of
the WigUm Papers, recently published by the Maitland
Club, says, ** The reason of his being tied to the cart was
in hope that the people would have stoned him, and that

56 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

he might not be able by his hands to save his face." His
hat was then pulled off by the hangman, and the proces-
sion commenced.

** Bv;t when he caTne, though pale and wan,
He looked so great and high.*' — P. 44.

"In all the way, there appeared in him such majesty,
courage, modesty — and even somewhat more than natural
—that those common women who had lost their husbands
and children in his wars, and who were hired to stone him,
were upon the sight of him so astonished and moved, that
their intended curses turned into tears and prayers ; so that
next day all the ministers preached against them for not
stoning and reviling him.'* — Wigton Papers,

'* Then first a woman's voice was heard
In jeer and laughter loud." — P. 45.

" It is remarkable that, of the many thousand beholders,
the Lady Jean Gordon, Countess of Haddington, did
(alone) publicly insult and laugh at him ; which being
perceived by a gentleman in the street, he cried up
to her, that it became her better to sit upon the cart
for her adulteries." — Wigton Papers. This infamous
woman was the third daughter of Huntly, and the niece
of Argyle. It will hardly be credited that she was the
sister of that gallant Lord Gordon, who fell fighting by
the side of Montrose, only five years before, at the battle
of Aldford !

THE EXECUTION OP MONTROSE. 67

** For seven long years thoii hast not dared
To look him in the/ace.^*—?. 46.

" The Ijord Lom and his new lady were also sitting on
a halcony, joyfiil spectators ; and the cart being 8topi>ed
when it came before the lodging where the Chancellor,
Argyle, and "Warristoun sat — that they might have time
to insult — he, suspecting the business, turned his face
towards them, whereupon they presently crept in at the
windows ; which being perceived by an Englishman, he
cried up, it was no wonder they started aside at his look,
for they durst not look him in the face these seven years
bygone." — Wigton Papers.

" With savage glee came Warristoun

To read the murderovs doom.'* — P. 47.

Archibald Johnston of Warristoun. This man, who was
the inveterate enemy of Montrose, and who carried the
most selfish spirit into every intrigue of his party, received
the punishment of his treasons about eleven years after-
wards. It may be instructive to learn how Ju met his
doom. The following extract is from the MSS. of Sir
George Mackenzie: — "The Chancellor and others waited
to examine him ; he fell upon his face, roaring, and with
tears entreated they would pity a poor creature who had
forgot all that was in the Bible. This moved all the spec-
tators with a deep melancholy ; and the Chancellor, reflect-
ing upon the man's great parts, former esteem, and the
great share he had in all the late revolutions, could not

58 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

den J some tears to the frailty of silly mankind. At his
examination, he pretended he had lost so much blood by
the unskilfrilness of his chirurgeons, that he lost his me-
mory with his blood ; and I really believe that his courage
had been drawn out with it. "Within a few days he was
brought before the parliament, where he discovered nothing
but much weakness, running up and down upon his knees,
begging mercy ; but the parliament ordained his former
sentence to be put to execution, and accordingly he was
executed at the Cross of Edinburgh."

** And God who made shall gather them :
I go from you to Him.*' — P. 49.

** He said he was much beholden to the parliament for
the honour they put on him ; *for,' says he, *I think it a
greater honour to have my head standing on the port of
this to\vn, for this quarrel, than to have my picture in
the king's bed-chamber. I am beholden to you that, lest
my loyalty should be forgotten, ye have appointed five of
your most eminent towns to bear witness of it to pos-
terity. ' " — Wigton Papers,

** Heis coming / Tie is coming /

Like a bridegroom from his room"—F. 60.

" In his downgoings from the Tolbooth to the place of
execution, he was very richly clad in fine scarlet, laid over
with rich silver lace, his hat in his hand, his bands and cuffs
exceeding rich, his delicate white gloves on his hands, his

THE EXECUTION OP MONTROSE. 69

Qtockings of incarnate silk, and his shoes with their rib-
bons on his feet ; and sarks provided for him with pearling
about, above ten pounds the elne. All these were pro-
vided for him by his friends, and a pretty cassock put on
upon him, upon the scaffold, wherein he was hanged. To
be short, nothing was here deficient to honour his poor
carcase, more beseeming a bridegroom than a criminal
going to the gallows." — Nicholl's Diary.

** The grim Geneva ministers

With anxiotts scowl drew near."—?. 62.

The Presbyterian ministers beset Montrose both in prison
and on the scaffold. The following extracts are from the
diaiy of the Rev. Robert Traill, one of the peraons who
were appointed by the commission of the kirk "to deal
with him:" — "By a warrant from the kirk, we staid a
while with him about his soul's condition. But we found
him continuing in his old pride, and taking very ill what
was spoken to him, saying, *I pray you, gentlemen, let me
die in peace.* It was answered that he might die in true
peace, being reconciled to the Lord and to his kirk." —
"We returned to the commission, and did show unto
them what had passed amongst us. They, seeing that for
the present he was not desiring relaxation from his censure
of excommunication, did appoint Mr Mungo I^w and me
to attend on the morrow on the scaffold, at the time of
his execution, that, in case he should desire to be relaxed
from his excommunication, we should be allowed to give
it unto him in the name of the kirk, and to pray with him,
and for him, that what is loosed on earth might be loosed in

60 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

heaven.** But this pious intention^ which may appear
somewhat strange to the modem Calvinist, when the pre-
vailing theories of the kirk regarding the eflScacy of abso-
lution are considered, was not destined to be fulfilled. Mr
Traill goes on to say, " But he did not at all desire to be
relaxed from his excommunication in the name of the kirk,
yea^ did not look towards that place on the scaffold wliere
toe stood; only he drew apart some of the magistrates, and
spake a while with them, and then went up the ladder, in
his red scarlet cassock, in a very stately manner. "

** Andhe climbed the lofty ladder

As it loere the path to heaven." — P. 62.

** He was very earnest that he might have the liberty to
keep on his hat— it was denied : he requested he might
have the privilege to keep his cloak about him— neither
could that be granted. Then, with a most undaunted
courage, he went up to the top of that prodigious gibbet. "
— "The whole people gave a general groan; and it was
very observable, that even those who, at liis firat appear-
ance, had bitterly inveighed against him, could not now
abstain from tears." — Montrose Redivivus.

THE HEAKT

THE BRUCE

Hector Boece, in his very delightful, though
somewhat apocryphal Chronicles of Scotland, tells
us, that " quhen Schir James Douglas was chosin
as maist worthy of all Scotland to pass with King
Robertis hart to the Holy Land, he put it in ane
cais of gold, with arromitike and precious unye-
mentis; and tuke with him Schir William Sin-
clare and Schir Robert Logan, with mony othir
nobilmen, to the haily graif ; quhare he buryit tlie

62 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

said hart, with maist reverence and solempnitie
that could be devisit."

But no contemporary historian bears out the
statement of the old Canon of Aberdeen. Frois-
sart, Fordoun, and Barbour all agree that the devo-
tional pilgrimage of the good Sir James was not
destined to be accomplished, and that the heart
of Scotland's greatest King and hero was brought
back to the land of his nativity. Mr Tytler, in
few words, has so graphically recounted the lead-
ing events of this expedition, that I do not hesitate
to adopt his narrative : —

" As soon as the season of the year permitted,
Douglas, having the heart of his beloved master
under his charge, set sail from Scotland, accom-
panied by a splendid retinue, and anchored off
Sluys in Flanders, at this time the great seaport
of the JS'etherlands. His object was to find out
companions with whom he might travel to Jeru-
salem ; but he declined landing, and for twelve
days received all visitors on board his ship with
a state almost kingly.

THE HEART OF THE BRUCE. 63

"At Sluys he heard that Alonzo, the king of
Leon and Castile, was carrying on war with Osmyn,
the Moorish governor of Granada. The religious
mission which he had embraced, and the vows he
had taken before leaving Scotland, induced Douglas
to consider Alonzo's cause as a holy warfare ; and
before proceeding to Jerusalem, he first determined
to visit Spain, and to signalise his prowess against
the Saracens. But his first field against the Infi-
dels proved fatal to him who, in the long English
war, had seen seventy battles. The circumstances
of his death were striking and characteristic. In
an action near Theba, on the borders of Andalusia,
the Moorish cavalry were defeated; and after their
camp had been taken, Douglas, with his com-
panions, engaged too eagerly in the pursuit, and
being separated from the main body of the Span-
ish army, a strong division of the Moors rallied
and surrounded them. The Scottish knight en-
deavoured to cut his way through the Infidels,
and in aU probability would have succeeded, had
he not again turned to rescue Sir William Saint

64 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

Clair of Eoslin, whom he saw in jeopardy. In
attempting this, he was inextricably involved with
the enemy. Taking from his neck the casket which
contained the heart of Bruce, he cast it before him,
and exclaimed with a loud voice, * Now pass on-
ward as thou wert wont, and Douglas will follow
thee or die ! * The action and the sentiment were
heroic, and they were the last words and deed of
a heroic life, for Douglas fell overpowered by his
enemies ; and three of his knights, and many of
his companions, were slain along with their master.
On the succeeding day, the body and the casket
were both found on the field, and by his surviving
friends conveyed to Scotland. The heart of Bruce
was deposited at Melrose, and the body of the
* Good Sir James ' — the name by which he is
affectionately remembered by his countrymen —
was consigned to the cemetery of his fathers in
the parish church of Douglas."

A nobler death on the field of battle is not re-
corded in the annals of chivalry. In memory of
this expedition, the Douglases have ever since

THE HEABT OF THE BBUOB. 65

cairied the armorial bearings of the Bloody Heart
surmounted by the Crown ; and a similar distinc-
tion is borne by another femily. Sir Simon of
Lee, a distinguished companion of Douglas, was
the person on whom, after the fall of his leader,
the custody of the heart devolved. Hence the
name of Lockhart, and their efiSgy, the Heart
within a Fetterlock.

THE HEART

THE BRUCE

It was upon an April mom,
While yet the frost lay hoar,

We heard Lord James's bugle-horn
Sound by the rocky shore.

II.
Then down we went, a hundred knights,

All in our dark array,
And flung our armour in the ships

That rode within the bay.

68 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

III.

We spoke not as the shore grew less,

But gazed in silence back,
Where the long billows swept away

The foam behind our track.

IV.

And aye the purple hues decayed

Upon the fading hill,
And but one heart in all that ship

Was tranquil, cold, and still.

V.

The good Lord Douglas paced the deck —

Oh, but his face was wan !
Unlike the flush it used to wear

When in the battle-van. —

VI.

" Come hither, I pray, my trusty knight,

Sir Simon of the Lee ;
There is a freit lies near my soul

I needs must tell to thee.

THE HEABT OF THB BRUOB. 69
VII.

" Thou knoVst the words King Eobert spoke

Upon his dying day :
How he bade me take his noble heart

And carry it fer away;

VIII.

" And lay it in the holy soil

Where once the Saviour trod,
Since he might not bear the blessed Cross,

Nor strike one blow for God.

IX.

" Last night as in my bed I lay,

I dreamed a dreary dream : —
Methought I saw a Pilgrim stand

In the moonlight's quivering beam.

X.

" His robe was of the azure dye —
Snow-white his scattered hairs —

And even such a cross he bore
As good Saint Andrew bears.

70 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

XI.

" * Why go ye fortli, Lord James/ lie said,
* With spear and belted brand ?

Why do you take its dearest pledge
From this our Scottish land ?

XII.

" * The sultry breeze of Galilee
Creeps through its groves of palm,

The olives on the Holy Mount
Stand glittering in the calm.

XIII.

" * But 'tis not there that Scotland's heart

Shall rest, by God's decree,
Till the great angel calls the dead

To rise from earth and sea !

XIV.

" * Lord James of Douglas, mark my redo I
That heart shaU pass once more

Li fiery iight against the foe.
As it was wont of yore.

THB HEART OF THB BRUCB. 71
XV.

" * And it shall pass beneath the Cross,

And save King Eobert*s vow ;
But other hands shall bear it back,

l^ot, James of Douglas, thou ! '

XVI.

" Now, by thy knightly faith, I pray,

Sir Simon of the Lee —
For truer Mend had never man

Than thou hast been to me —

XVII.

" If ne'er upon the Holy Land

'Tis mine in life to tread,
Bear thou to Scotland's kindly earth

The relics of her dead."

XVIII.

The tear was in Sir Simon's eye
As he wrung the warrior's hand —

" Betide me weal, betide me woe,
I'll hold by thy command.

72 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

XIX,

" But if in battle-front, Lord James,
Tis ours once more to ride,

Nor force of man, nor craft of fiend.
Shall cleave me from thy side ! "

.XX.

And aye we sailed, and aye we sailed,

Across the weary sea.
Until one mom the coast of Spain

Kose grimly on our lee.

XXI.

And as we rounded to the port.
Beneath the watch-tower's wall.

We heard the clash of the atahals.
And the trumpet's wavering call.

XXII.

" Why sounds yon Eastern music here

So wantonly and long,
And whose the crowd of armed men

That round yon standard throng ? "

THE HEART OF THE BBUOB. 73
XXIII.

" The Moors have come from Africa

To spoil, and waste, and slay.
And King Alonzo of Castile

Must fight with them to-day."

XXIV.

" Now shame it were," cried good Lord James,

" Shall never be said of me,
That I and, mine have turned aside

From the Cross in jeopardie !

XXV.

" Have down, have down, my merry men all —

Have down unto the plain ;
We'U let tlie Scottish lion loose

Within the fields of Spain ! "

XXVI.

" Kow welcome to me, noble lord,

Thou and thy stalwart power ;
Dear is the sight of a Christian knight,

Who comes in such an hour !*

74 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH GAVALIEBS.

XXVII.

" Is it for bond or faith you come,

Or yet for golden fee 1
Or bring ye France's lilies here,

Or the flower of Buigundie ? "

XXVIII.

" God greet thee well, thou valiant king,
Thee and thy belted peers —

Sir James of Douglas am I called,
And these are Scottish spears.

XXIX.

" We do not fight for bond or plight,

Nor yet for golden fee ;
But for the sake of our blessed Lord,

Who died upon the tree.

XXX.

" We bring our great King Robert's heart

Across the weltering wave.
To lay it in the holy soil

Hard by the Saviour's grave.

THE HEART OF THE BRUOE. 76

XXXI.

" True pilgrims we, by land or sea,

Where danger bars the way ;
And therefore are we here, Lord King,

To ride with thee this day !"

XXXII.

The King has bent his stately head,
And the tears were in his eyne —

" God's blessing on thee, noble knight,
For this brave thought of thine !

XXXIII.

" I know thy name full well. Lord James ;

And honoured may I be,
That those who fought beside the Bruce

Should fight this day for me I

XXXIV.

** Take thou the leading of the van.

And charge the Moors amain ;
There is not such a lance as thine

In all the host of Spain ! "

76 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

XXXV.

The Douglas turned towards us then,
Oh, but his glance was high !

" There is not one of all my men
But is as frank as I.

xxxvi.
" There is not one of all my knights

But bears as true a spear —
Then — onwards, Scottish gentlemen.

And think, King Robert's here !"

XXXVII.

The trumpets blew, the cross-bolts flew.
The arrows flashed like flame.

As, spur, in side, and spear in rest,
Against the foe we came.

XXXVIII.

And many a bearded Saracen

Went down, both horse and man ;

For through their ranks we rode like com,
So furiously we ran !

THE HEABT OF THE BRUCE. / 4

XXXIX.

But in behind our path they closed,

Though fein to let us through ;
For they were forty thousand men,

And we were wondrous few.

XL.

We might not see a lance's length.

So dense was their array,
But the long fell sweep of the Scottish hlade

Still held them hard at bay.

XLI.

" Make in! make in!" Lord Douglas cried —

" Make in, my brethren dear !
Sir William of St Clair is down ;

We may not leave him here !"

XLII.

But thicker, thicker grew the swarm,

And sharper shot the rain ;
And the horses reared amid the press,

But they would not charge again.

78 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH OAVALIBBS.

XLIII.

" Now Jesu help thee," said Lord James,

" Thou kind and true St Clair ! j

An' if I may not bring thee oflF, I

111 die beside thee there !" |

I

XLIV.

Then in his stirraps up he stood, ,

So lionlike and bold, '

And held the precious heart aloft

All in its case of gold. j

XLV.

He flung it from him far ahead.

And never spake he more,
But — *' Pass thee first, thou dauntless heart,

As thou wert wont of yore !"

XLVI.

The roar of fight rose fiercer yet.

And heavier still the stour,
Till the spears of Spain came shivering in,

And swept away the Moor.

THE HEART OF THE BBUOB. 79

XLVII.

" Now praised be God, the day is won !

They fly o*er flood and fell —
Why dost thou draw the rein so hard,

Good knight, that fought so well?"

XLVIII.

" Oh, ride ye on, Lord King !" he said,

" And leave the dead to me ;
For I must keep the dreariest watch

That ever I shall dree !

XLIX.

" There lies above his master's heart,

The Douglas, stark and grim.;
And woe, that I am living man,

Not lying there by him !

L.

. " The world grows cold, my arm is old.

And thin my lyart hair.
And all that I loved best on earth

Is stretched before me there.

80 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

LI.

" O Bothwell banks, tliat bloom so bright

Beneath, the snn of May !
The heaviest cloud that ever blew

Is bound for you this day,

LIL

" And, Scotland, thou may^st veil thy head

In sorroTV and in pain :
The sorest stroke upon thy brow

Hath fallen this day in Spain !

LIIL

" We'U bear them back unto our ship,

We'll bear them o'er the sea,
And lay them in the hallowed earth,

Within our own countrie.

LIV.

" And be thou strong of heart. Lord King,

For this I tell thee sure,
The sod that drank the Douglas' blood

Shall never bear the Moor ! "

THE HEART OF THE BRUCE. 81
LV.

The King he lighted from his horse,

He flimg his hrand away,
And took the Douglas by the hand,

So stately as he lay.

,LVI.

" God give thee rest, thou valiant soul !

That fought so well for Spain ;
I*d rather half my land were gone.

So thou wert here again !"

LVII.

We lifted thence the good Lord James,
And the priceless heart he hore ;

And heavily we steered our ship
Towards the Scottish shore.

LVIII.

"No welcome greeted our return,

Nor clang of martial tread.
But all were dumb and hushed as death,

Before the mighty dead.

LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.
LIX.

We laid our chief in Douglas Kirk,
The heart in fair Melrose ;

And woeful men were we that day —
God grant their souls repose !

THE BURIAL- MARCH

DUNDEE

It is very much to be regretted that no competent
person has as yet undertaken the task of compiling
a foil and authentic biography of Lord Viscount
Dundee. His memory has consequently been left
at the mercy of writers who have espoused the
opposite political creed; and the pen of romance
has been freely employed to portray as a bloody
assassin one of the most accomplished men and
gallant soldiers of his age.

In order to do justice to Claverhouse, we must

84 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

regard him in connection with the age and country
in which he lived. The religions differences of
Scotland were then at their greatest height; and
there is hardly any act of atrocity and rehellion
which had not heen committed by the insurgents.
The royal authority was openly and puhlicly dis-
owned in the western districts : the Archhishop
of St Andrews, after more than one hairbreadth
escape, had been waylaid and barbarously mur-
dered by an armed gang of fanatics on Magus
Muir; and his daughter was wounded and mal-
treated while interceding for the old man's life.
The country was infested by banditti, who took
every possible opportunity of shooting down and
massacring any of the straggling soldiery : the
clergy were attacked and driven from their houses;
so that, throughout a considerable portion of
Scotland, there was no security either for pro-
perty or for life. It was lately the fashion to
praise and magnify the Covenanters as the most
innocent and persecuted of men ; but those who
are so ready with their sympathy, rarely take the

THE BlTRIAIrMABOH OF DUNDEE. 86

pains to satisfy themselves, by reference to the
annals of the time, of the true character and
motives of those men whom they blindly venerate
as martyrs. They forget, in their zeal for reli-
gious freedom, that even the purest and holiest
of causes may be sullied and disgraced by the
deeds of its upholders, and that a wild and frantic
profession of faith is not always a test of genuine
piety. It is not in the slightest degree necessary
to discuss whether the royal prerogative was at
that time arbitrarily used, or whether the reli-
gious freedom of the nation was unduly curtailed.
Both points may be, and indeed are, admitted —
for it is impossible altogether to vindicate the
policy of the measures adopted by the two last
monarchs of the house of Stuart ; but neither
admission will clear the Covenanters from the
stain of deliberate cruelty.

After the battle of Philiphaugh, the royalist
prisoners were butchered in cold blood, under the
superintendence of a clerical emissary, who stood
by rubbing his hands, and exclaiming — "The wark

86 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

gangs bonnily on!" Were I to transcribe, from
the pamphlets hefoi*e me, the list of the murders
which were perpetrated by the country people on
the soldiery, ofl&cers, and gentlemen of loyal prin-
ciples, during the reign of Charles 11., I believe
that no candid person would be surprised at the
severe retaliation which was made. It must be
remembered that the country was then under
military law, and that the strictest orders had
been issued by the Government to the ofl&cers in
command of the troops, to use every means in
their power for the efltectual repression of the
disturbances. The necessity of such orders will
become apparent, when we reflect that, besides the
open actions at Aird's Moss and Drumclog, the
city of Glasgow was attacked, and the royal forces
compelled for a time to fall back upon Stirling.

Under such circumstances, it is no wonder if
the soldiery were severe in their reprisals. Inno-
cent blood may no doubt have been shed, and in
some cases even wantonly; for when rebellion has
gjown into civil war, and the ordinary course of

THE BURIAL-HABCH OF DUNDEE. 87

the law is put in abeyance, it is always impossible
to restrain military licence. But it is most unfair
to lay the whole odium of such acts upon those
who were in command, and to dishonour the fair
name of gentlemen, by attributing to them per-
sonally the commission of deeds of which they
were absolutely ignorant. To this day the peas-
antry of the western districts of Scotland entertain
the idea that Claverhouse was a sort of fiend in
human shape, tall, muscular, and hideous in aspect,
secured by infernal spells from the chance of perish-
ing by any ordinary weapon, and mounted on a
huge black horse, the especial gift of Beelzebub !
On this charger it is supposed that he could ride
up precipices as easily as he could traverse the
level ground — that he was constantly accom-
panied by a body of desperadoes, vulgarly known
by such euphonious titles as " Hell's Tam" and
" the Devil's Jock," and that his whole time was
occupied, day and night, in hunting Covenanters
upon the hills ! Almost every rebel who was
taken in arms and shot, is supposed to have met

88 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

his death from the individual pistol of Claver-
house; and the tales which, from time to time,
have been written by such ingenious persons as
the late Mr Gait and the Ettrick Shepherd, have
quietly been assumed as facts, and added to the
store of our traditionary knowledge. It is in vain
to hint that the chief commanders of the forces in
Scotland could have found little leisure, even had
they possessed the taste, for pursuing single insur-
gents. Such suggestions are an insult to martyr-
ology; and many a parish of the west would be
indignant were it averred that the tenant of its
grey stone had suffered by a meaner hand.

When we look at the portrait of Claverhouse,
and survey the calm, melancholy, and beautiful
features of the devoted soldier, it appears almost
incredible that he should have provoked so much
calumny and misrepresentation. But when — dis-
carding modem historians, who in too many
instances do not seem to entertain the slightest
scruple in dealing with the memory of the dead *
* Vide Appendix.

THE BURIAL-HARCH OF DUNDEE. 89

— ^we turn to the writings of his contemporaries,
who knew the man, his character appears in a
very different light. They describe him as one
who was stainless in his honour, pure in his
fidth, wise in council, resolute in action, and
utterly &ee from that selfishness which disgraced
many of the Scottish statesmen of the time. No
one dares question his loyalty, for he sealed that
confession with his blood; and it is universally
admitted that with him fell the last hopes of the
reinstatement of the house of Stuart.

I may perhaps be permitted here, in the absence
of a better chronicler, to mention a few particu-
lars of lus life, which, I believe, are comparatively
unknown. John Grahame of Claverhouse was a
cadet of the family of Fintrie, connected by inter-
marriage with the blood-royal of Scotland. After
completing his studies at the University of St
Andrews, he entered, as was the national custom
for gentlemen of good birth and limited means,
into foreign service ; served some time in France
as a volunteer, and afterwards went to Holland.

90 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

He very soon received a commission, as a comet
in a regiment of horse-guards, from the Prince of
Orange, nephew of Charles II. and James VII.,
and who afterwards married the Princess Mary.
His manner at that time is thus described : — " He
was then ane esquire, under the title of John
Grahame of Claverhouse ; but the vivacity of his
parts, and the delicacy and justice of his under-
standing and judgment, joined with a certain
vigour of mind and activity of body, distinguished
him in such a maimer from all others of his rank,
that though he lived in a superior character, yet
he acquired the love and esteem of all his equals,
as well as of those who had the advantage of him
in dignity and estate."

By one of those singular accidents which we
occasionally meet with in history, Grahame, after-
wards destined to become his most formidable
opponent, saved the life of the Prince of Orange
at the battle of St Neff. The Prince's horse had
been killed, and he himself was in the grasp of
the enemy, when the young cornet rode to his

THE BURIAL-MARCH OP DUNDEE. 91

rescue, fireed him from his assailants, and mounted
him on his own steed. For this service he re-
ceived a captain's commission, and the promise of
the first regiment that should fall vacant.

But, even in early life, William of Orange
was not famous for keeping his promises. Some
years afterwards a vacancy in one of the Scottish
Eegiments in the- Prince's service occun'ed, and
Claverhouse, relying upon the previous assurance,
preferred his claim. It was disregarded, and Mr
Collier, afterwards Earl of Portmore, was appointed
over his head. It would seem that Grahame had
suspected some foul play on the part of this
gentleman, for, shortly after, they accidentally
met and had an angry altercation. This circum-
stance having come to the ears of the Prince, he
sent for Captain Grahame, and administered a
sharpr rebuke. I give the remainder of this in-
cident in the words of the old writer, because it
must be considered a very remarkable one, as illus-
trating the fiery spirit and dauntless independence
of Claverhouse.

92 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

"The Captain answered, that he was indeed
in the wrong, since it was more his Highness's
business to have resented that quarrel than his;
because Mr Collier had less injured him in disap-
pointing him of the regiment, than he had done
his Highness in making him break his word.
'Then,' replied the Prince in an angry tone, *I
make you full reparation; for I bestow on you
what is more valuable than a regiment, when I
give you your right arm ! ' The Captain sub-
joined, that since his Highness had the goodness
to give him his liberty, he resolved to employ
himself elsewhere, for he would not longer serve
a Prince that had broken his word.

" The Captain, having thus thrown up his com-
mission, was preparing in haste for his voyage,
when a messenger arrived from the Prince, with
two hundred guineas for the horse on which he
had saved his life. The Captain sent the horse,
but he ordered the gold to be distributed among
the grooms of the Prince's stables. It is said,
however, that liis Highness had the generosity to

THE BURIAL-MABCH OF DUNDEE. 93

write to the King and the Duke, recommending
him as a fine gentleman and a biave officer, fit
for any office, civil or military/**

On his arrival in Britain he was well received
by the Court, and immediately appointed to a
high military command in Scotland. It would be
beyond the scope of the present paper to enter
minutely into the details of his service during
the stormy period when Scotland was certainly
misgoverned, and when there was little unity, but
much disorder in the land. In whatever point
of view we regard the history of those times, the
aspect is a moumfdl one indeed. Church and
State never was a popular cry in Scotland; and
the peculiar religious tendencies which had been
exhibited by a large portion of the nation, at the
time of the Eeformation, rendered the return of
tranquillity hopeless, until the hierarchy was dis-
placed, and a humbler form of church govern-
ment, more suited to the feelings of the people,
substituted in its stead.
* Memoirs of the Lord Viscount of Dwidee. London : 1 71 4.

94 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS,

Three years after the accession of James VII.,
Claverhouse was raised to the peerage, by the
title of Lord Viscoiint of Dundee. He was major-
general and second in command of the royal forces,
when the Prince of Orange landed; and he ear-
nestly entreated King James to be allowed to
march against him, offering to stake his head on
the successful result of the enterprise. There can
be little doubt, from the great popularity of Lord
Dundee with the army, that, had such consent
been given, William would have found more than
a match in his old officer; but the King seemed
absolutely infatuated, and refused to allow a drop
of blood to be shed in his quarrel, though the
great bulk of the population of England were
clearly and enthusiastically in his favour. A
modem poet, the Honourable George Sydney
Smythe, has well illustrated this event in the
following spirited lines : —

"Then out spake gallant Claverhouse, and his soul
thrilled wild and high.
And he showed the King his subjects, and he prayed
Tii'm not to fly.

THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. 96

Oh, never yet was captain so dauntless as Diindee —
He has sworn to chase the Hollander back to his
Zudyer-Zee ! "

But though James quitted his kingdom, the
stem loyalty of Dundee was nothing moved.
Alone and without escort he traversed England,
and presented himself at the Convention of
Estates, then assembled at Edinburgh for the
purpose of receiving the message from the Prince
of Orange. The meeting was a very strange one.
Many of the nobility and former members of the
Scottish Parliament had absolutely declined at-
tending it,— -some on the ground that it was not
a legal assembly, having been summoned by the
Prince of Orange; and others because, in such a
total disruption of order, they judged it safest to
abstain from taking any prominent part. This
gave an immense ascendancy to the Eevolution
party, who further proceeded to strengthen their
position by inviting to Edinburgh large bodies of
the armed population of the west. After defend-
ing for several days the cause of his master, with

96 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

as much eloquence as vigour, Dundee, finding that
the majority of the Convention were resolved to
offer the crown of Scotland to the Prince, and
having moreover received sure information that
some of the wild fiantic Whigs, with Daniel Ker
of Kersland at their head, had formed a plot for
his assassination, quitted Edinburgh with about
fifty horsemen, and, after a short interview — cele-
brated by Sir Walter Scott in one of his grandest
ballads — ^with the Duke of Gordon at the Castle
rock, directed his steps towards the north. After
a short stay at his house of Dudhope, during which
he received, by order of the Council, who were
thoroughly alarmed at his absence, a summons
through a Lyon-herald to return to Edinburgh
under pain of high treason, he passed into the
Gordon country, where he was joined by the Earl
of Dunfermline with a small party of about sixty
horse. His retreat was timeous, for General Mac-
kay, who commanded for the Prince of Orange,
had despatched a strong force, with instructions
to make him prisoner. From this time, until the

THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. 97

day of his death, he allowed himself no repose.
Imitating the example, and inheriting the enthu-
siasm of his great predecessor Montrose, he in-
voked the loyalty of the clans to assist him in the
struggle for legitimacy, — and he did not appeal to
them in vain. His name was a spell to rouse the
ardent spirits of the mountaineers; and not the
Great Marquess himself, in the height of his re-
nown, was more sincerely welcomed and more
fondly loved than " Ian dhu nan Cath," — dark
John of the Battles, — the name by which Lord
Dundee is still remembered in Highland song.
In the mean time the Convention, terrified at
their danger, and dreading a Highland inroad,
had despatched Mackay, a military officer of great
experience, with a considerable body of troops, to
quell the threatened insurrection. He was en-
countered by Dundee, and compelled to evacuate
the high country and fall back upon the Low-
lands, where he subsequently received reinforce-
ments, and again marched northward. The High-
land host was assembled at Blair, though not in

98. LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIBBS.

great force, when the news of Mackay's advance
arrived; and a council of the chiefs and officers
wate summoned, to determine whether it would be
most advisable to fall back upon the glens and
wild fastnesses of the Highlands, or to meet the
enemy at once, though with a far inferior force.
Most of the old officers, who had been trained
in the foreign wars, were of the former opinion —
" alleging that it was neither prudent nor cautious
to risk an engagement against an army of disci-
plined men, that exceeded theu's in number by
more than a half." But both Glengarry and
Locheill, to the great satisfaction of the General,
maintained the contrary view, and argued that
neither hunger nor fatigue were so likely to de-
press the Highlanders as a retreat when the enemy
was in view. The account of the discussion is so
interesting, and so characteristic of Dundee, that
I shall take leave to quote its termination in the
words of Drummond of Balhaldy : —

"An advice so hardy and resolute could not
miss to please the generous Dundee. His looks

. THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. 99

se^ihed to heighten with an air of delight and
satis&ction all the while Locheill was speaking.
He told his council that they had heard his sen-
timents from the mouth of a person who had
fonned his judgment upon infallible proofs drawn
from a long experience, and an intimate acquain1>-
ance with the persons and subject he spoke of.
Not one in the company offering to contradict
their general, it was unanimously agreed to fight.
"When the news of this vigorous resolution
spread through the army, nothing was heard but
acclamations of joy, which exceedingly pleased
their gallant general; but before the council broke
up, Locheill begged to be heard for a few words.
*My Lord,' said he, *I have just now declared,
in presence of this honourable company, that I
was resolved to give an implicit obedience to all
your Lordship's commands; but I humbly beg
leave, in name of these gentlemen, to give the
word of command for this one time. It is the
voice of your council, and their orders are that
you do not engage personally. Your Lordship's

100 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIEBS.

business is to have an eye on all parts, and to
issue out your commands as you shall think pro-
per ; it is ours to execute them with promptitude
and courage. On your Lordship depends the fate,
not only of this little brave army, but also of our
king and country. If your Lordship deny us this
reasonable demand, for my own part I declare,
that neither I, nor any I am concerned in, shall
draw a sword on this important occasion, what-
ever construction shall be put upon the matter.'
"LocheiU was seconded in this by the whole
council; but Dundee begged leave to be heard in
his turn. * Gentlemen,' said he, ' as I am abso-
lutely convinced, and have had repeated proofs,
of your zeal for the King's service, and of your
affection to me as his general and your friend,
so I am fully sensible that my engaging personally
this day may be of some loss if I shall chance
to be kiUed. But I beg leave of you, however,
to allow me to give one shear darg (that is, one
harvest-day's work) to the King, my master, that I
may have an opportunity of convincing the brave

THE BURIAI/-MARCH OF DUNDEE. 101

clans that I can hazard my life m that seryice as
fipeely as the meanest of them. Ye know their
temper, gentlemen; and if they do not think I
have personal courage enough, they will not esteem
me hereafter, nor obey my commands with cheer-
fulness. Allow me this single favour, and I
here promise, upon my honour, never again to
risk my person while I have that of commanding
you.*

" The council, finding him inflexible, broke up,
and the army marched directly towards the Pass
of Killiecrankie."

Those who have visited that romantic spot need
not be reminded of its peculiar features, for these,
once seen, must dwell for ever in the memory.
The lower part of the Pass is a stupendous moun-
tain-chasm, scooped out by the waters of the
Garry, which here descend in a succession of
roaring cataracts and pools. The old road, which
ran almost parallel to the river and close upon its
edge, was extremely narrow, and wound its way
beneath a wall of enormous crags, surmounted by

102 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

a natural forest of birch, oak, and pine. An army-
cooped up in that gloomy ravine would have as
little chance of escape from the onset of an enter-
prising partisan corps, as had the Bavarian troops
when attacked by the Tyrolese in the steep defiles
of the Inn. General Mackay, however, had made
his arrangements with consummate tact and skill,
and had calculated his time so well, that he was
enabled to clear the Pass before the Highlanders
could reach it from the other side. Advancing
upwards, the passage becomes gradually broader,
until, just below the House of Urrard, there is a
considerable width of meadow-land. It was here
that Mackay took up his position, and arrayed his
troops, on observing that the heights above were
occupied by the army of Dundee.

The forces of the latter scarcely amounted to
one-third of those of his antagonist, which were
drawn up in line without any reserve. He was
therefore compelled, in making his dispositions,
to leave considerable gaps in his own line, which
gave Mackay a further advantage. The right of

THIS BTTRIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. 103

Dtmdee's army was formed of the M*Lean, Glen-
garry, and Clanranald regiments, along with some
Irish levies. In the centre was Dundee himself,
at the head of a small and ill-equipped body of
cavalry, composed of Lowland gentlemen and their
followers, and about forty of his old troopers.
The Camerons and Skyemen, under the command
of Locheill and Sir Donald Macdonald of Sleat,
were stationed on the left. During the time occu-
pied by these dispositions, a brisk cannonade was
opened by Mackay's artillery, which materially
increased the impatience of the Highlanders to
come to close quarters. At last the word was
given to advance, and the whole line rushed for-
ward with the terrific impetuosity peculiar to a
charge of the clans. They received the fire of the
tegular troops without flinching, reserved their
own until they were close at hand, poured in a
murderous volley, and then, throwing away their
firelocks, attacked the enemy with the broad-
sword.

The victory was almost instantaneous, but it

104 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIEBS.

was bouglit at a terrible price. Througli some
mistake or misunderstanding, a portion of the
cavaby, instead of following their general, who
had charged directly for the guns, executed a
manoeuvre which threw them into disorder; and
when last seen in the battle, Dundee, accom-
panied only by the Earl of Dunfermline and about
sixteen gentlemen, was entering into the cloud of
smoke, standing up in his stirrups, and waving
to the others to come on. It was in this attitude
that he appears to have received his death-wound.
On returning from the pursuit, the Highlanders
found him dying on the field.

It would be difficult to point out another in-
stance in which the maintenance of a great cause
depended solely upon the life of a single man.
Whilst Dundee survived, Scotland at least was
not lost to the Stuarts, for, shortly before the
battle, he had received assurance that the greater
part of the organised troops in the north were
devoted to his person, and ready to join him ; and
the victory of Killiecrankie would have been fol-

THE BURIAL-HABCH OF DUNDEE. 105

lowed by a general rising of the loyal gentlemen
in the Lowlands. But with his fall the enterprise
was over.

I hope I shall not be accused of exaggerating
the importance of this battle, which, according to
the writer I have already quoted, was best proved
by the consternation into which the opposite party
were thrown at the first news of Mackay's defeat.
"The Duke of Hamilton, commissioner for the
parliament which then sat at Edinburgh, and the
rest of the ministry, were struck with such a
panic, that some of them were for retiring into
England, others into the western shires of Scot-
land, where all the people, almost to a man, be-
friended them; nor knew they whether to aban-
don the government, or to stay a few days until
they saw what use my Lord Dundee would make
of lus victory. They knew the rapidity of his
motions, and were convinced that he would allow
them no time to deliberate. On this account it
was debated, whether such of the nobility and
gentry as were confined for adhering to their old

106 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAyALIBB&.

master, should be immediately set at liberty or
mote closely shut up ; and though the last was de-
termined on, yet the greatest revolutionists amoi^
them made private and frequent visits to these
prisoners, excusing what was past, from a fSatal
necessity of the times, which obliged them to give
a seeming compliance, but protesting that they
always wished well to King James, as they should
soon have occasion to show when my Lord Dun-
dee advanced."

"The next morning after the battle," says
Driimmond, "the Highland army had more the
air of the shattered remains of broken troops
than of conquerors; for here it was literally
true that

' The vanquished triumphed, and the victors mourned.'

The death of their brave general, and the loss
of so many of their friends, were inexhaustible
fountains of grief and sorrow. They closed the
last scene of this mournful tragedy in obsequies
of their lamented general, and of the other gen-

THE BURIAL-MABGH OF DUNDEE. 107

tlemen who fell with him, and interred them in
the church of Blair of Atholl with a real funeral
solemnity, there not being present one single
person who did not participate in the general
affliction."

I close this notice of a great soldier and de-
voted loyalist, by transcribing the beautiful epi-
taph composed by Dr Pitcaim : —

** Ultimo Scotomm, potait quo sospite solo
Libertas patrise salva fiiisse tuse :
Te moriente, novos accepit Scotia cives,
Accepitque novos, te moriente, deos.
lUa tibi superesse negat : ta non potes illi :
Ergo Caledonise nomen inane vale :
Tuque vale, gentis priscse fortissime ductor,
Optime Scotorum atque ultime— Grams, vale ! **

THE BURIAL-MARCH

DUNDEE

Sound the fife, and cry the slogan —

Let the pibroch shake the ah*
With its wild triumphal music,

Worthy of the freight we hear.
Let the ancient hills of Scotland

Hear once more the battle-song
Swell within their glens and valleys

As the clansmen march along !

110 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

Never from the field of combat,

Never from the deadly fray,
Was a nobler trophy carried

Than we bring with us to-day —
^ Never, since the yaliant Douglas

On his dauntless bosom bore
Good King Eobert*s heart — the priceless-

To our dear Eedeemer's shore !
Lo ! we bring with us the hero —

Lo ! we bring the conquering Graeme,
Crowned as best beseems a victor

From the altar of his fame ;
Fresh and bleeding from the battle

Whence his spirit took its flight.
Midst the crashing charge of squadrons,
;^ t And the thunder of the fight !
Strike, I say, the notes of triumph.

As we march o*er moor and lea !
Is there any here will venture

To bewail our dead Dimdee 1
Let the widows of the traitors

Weep until their eyes are dim !

. THE BURIAL-HABCH OF DUNDEE. Ill

Wail ye may full well for Scotland —

Let none dare to mourn for him !
Seel above his glorious body

Lies the royal banner's fold-
See ! his valiant blood is mingled —

With its crimson and its gold —
See how calm he looks, and stately,

Like a warrior on his shield,
Waiting till the flush of morning

Breaks along the battle-field !
See — Oh never more, my comrades,

Shall we see that falcon eye
Bedden with its inward lightning,

As thfe hour of fight drew nigh !
Never shall we hear the voice that,

Clearer than the trumpet's call.

Bade us strike for King and Country,

Bade us win the field, or fall ! ^

A "^

II.

On the heights of Killiecrankie
Yester-mom our army lay :

112 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

Slowly rose the mist in columns

From the river's broken way ;
Hoarsely roared the swollen torrent,

And the Pass was wrapt in gloom,
When the clansmen rose together

From their lau* amidst the broom.
Then we belted on our tartans,

And our bonnets down we drew,
And we felt our broadswords' edges.

And we proved them to be true ;
And we prayed the prayer of soldiers,

And we cried the gathering-cry.
And we clasped the hands of kinsmen,

And we swore to do or die !
Then our leader rode before us

On his war-horse black as night —
Well the Cameronian rebels

Knew that charger in the fight ! —
And a cry of exultation

From the bearded warriors rose ;
For we loved the house of Claver'se,

And we thought of good Montrose.

THB BURT AL-M ARCH OF DUNDEE. 113

But lie raised his hand for silence —

" Soldiers ! I have sworn a vow :
Ere the evening star shall glisten

On Schehallion's lofty brow,
Either we shall rest in triumph,

Or another of the Greemes
Shall have died in battle-harness

For his Country and King James !
Think upon the Eoyal Martyr —

Think of what his race endure —
Think of him whom butchers murdered

On the field of Magus Muir : —
By his sacred blood I charge ye,

By the ruined hearth and shrine —
By the blighted hopes of Scotland,

By your injuries and mine —
Strike this day as if the anvil

Lay beneath your blows the while,
Be they covenanting traitors,

Or the brood of false Argyle 1
Strike ! and drive the trembling rebels

Backwards o'er the stormy Forth ;

114 IvAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

Let them tell their pale Convention

:How they fiaxed within the North.
Let them tell that Highland honour

Is not to be bought nor sold,
That we scorn their prince's anger

As we loathe his foreign gold.
Strike ! and when the fight is over,

K ye look in vain for me,
Where the dead are lying thickest.

Search for him that was Dundee ! "

III.

Loudly then the lulls re-echoed

With our answer to his call,
But a deeper echo sounded

In the bosoms of us all.
For the lands of wide Breadalbane,

Not a man who heard him speak
Would that day have left the battle.

Burning eye and flushing cheek
. Told the clansmen's fierce emotion,

And they harder drew their breath ;

. THE BUBUL-MABCH OF DUNDEE.- 115

For their souls were strong within them,

Stronger than the grasp of death.
Soon we heard a challenge-trumpet

Sounding in the Pass below,
And the distant tramp of horses,

And the voices of the foe :
Down we crouched amid the bracken,

Till the Lowland ranks drew near,
Panting like the hounds in summer.

When they scent the stately deer.
From the dark defile emerging,

"Next we saw the squadrons come,
Leslie's foot and Leven's troopers

Marching to the tuck of drum ; U^

Through the scattered wood of birches.

O'er the broken groimd and heath.
Wound the long battalion slowly, ^

Till they gained the plain beneath ;
Then we bounded from our covert. —

Judge how looked the Saxons then.
When they saw the rugged mountain

Start to life with armM men !

116 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

Like a tempest down the ridges

Swept the hurricane of steel,
Eose the slogan of Macdonald —

Flashed the broadsword of Locheill !
Vainly sped the withering volley

'Mongst the foremost of our band —
On we poured until we met them,

Foot to foot, and hand to hand.
Horse and man went down like drift-wood

When the floods are black at Yule,
And their carcasses are whirling

In the Garry's deepest pool.
Horse and man went down before us —

Living foe there tarried none
On the field of ELilliecrankie,

When that stubborn fight was done !

IV.

And the evening star was shining
On Schehallion's distant head,

When we wiped our bloody broadswords.
And returned to count the dead.

THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. 117

There we found him gashed and gory,

Stretched upon the cumbered plain,
As he told us where to seek him,

In the thickest of the slain.
And a smile was on his visage,

For within his dying ear
Pealed the joyful note of triumph,

And the clansmen's clamorous cheer :
So, amidst the battle's thunder.

Shot, and steel, and scorching flame,
In the glory of his manhood

Passed the sjMrit of the Grseme I

Open wide the vaults of Atholl,

Where the bones of heroes rest —
Open wide the hallowed portals

To receive another guest !
Last of Scots, and last of freemen —

Last of all that dauntless race.
Who would rather die unsullied

Than outlive the land's disgrace !

118 LAT8 OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

thou lion-hearted warrior I

Reck not of the after-time :
Honour may be deemed dishonour, '

Loyalty be called a crime.
Sleep in peace with kindred ashes

Of the noble and the true,
Hands that never failed their country,

Hearts that never baseness knew.
Sleep ! — and till the latest trumpet

Wakes the dead fix)m earth and sea,
Scotland shall not boast a braver

Chieftain than our own Dundee !

THE WIDOW

GLENCOE

The Massacre of Glencoe is an event which
neither can nor ought to he forgotten. It was
a deed of the worst treason and cruelty— a har-
harous infraction of all laws, human and divine;
and it exhihits in their foulest perfidy the true
characters of the authors and ahettors of the
Revolution.

After the hattle of Killiecrankie the cause of
the Scottish royalists declined, rather from the
want of a competent leader than fix)m any dis-

120 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAYALIEB8.

inclmation on the part of a large section of
the nobUity and gentry to vindicate the right
of King James. No person of adequate talents
or authority was found to supply the place of
the great and gallant Lord Dundee: for General
Cannon, who succeeded in conunand, was not only
deficient in military skill, but did not possess the
confidence, nor understand the character of the
Highland chiefe, who, with their clansmen, con-
stituted by far the most important section of
the army. Accordingly no enterprise of any
importance was attempted; and the disastrous
issue of the battle of the Eoyne led to a nego-
tiation which terminated in the entire disband-
ing of the royal forces. By this treaty, which was
expressly sanctioned by William of Orange, a full
and unreserved indemnity and pardon was granted
to all of the Highlanders who had taken arms,
with a proviso that they should first subscribe
the oath of allegiance to William and Mary,
before the 1st of January 1692, in presence of
the Lords of the Scottish Council, "or of the

THE WIDOW OF OLENCOE. 121

sheriff or their deputies of the respective shires
wherein they lived." The letter of William ad-
dressed to the Privy Council, and ordering pro-
clamation to be made to the above effect, con-
tained also the following significant passage : —
" That ye communicate our pleasure to the
Governor of Inverlochy, and other commanders,
that they be exact and diligent in their several
posts; but that they show no more zeal against
the Highlanders after their submission, than they
have ever done formerly tchen these were in open
rebellion, ^^

This enigmatical sentence, which in reality was
intended, as the sequel will show, to be interpret-
ed in the most cruel manner, appears to have
caused some perplexity in the Council, as that
body deemed it necessary to apply for more
distinct and specific instructions, which, how-
ever, were not then issued. It had been espe-
cially stipulated by the chiefs, as an indispen-
sable preliminary to then* treaty, that they should
have leave to communicate with King James, then

122 LAYS OF THB SCOTTISH OAVAtlERS.

redding at St Germains, for the purpose of oV
taining liis permission and warrant previous to
submitting themselves to the existing govern-
ment. That article had been sanctioned by Wil-
liam before the proclamation was issued, and a
special messenger was despatched to Finance for
that purpose.

In the mean time, troops were gradually and
cautiously advanced to the confines of the High-
lands, and, in some instances, actually quartered
on the inhabitants. The condition of the country
was perfectly tranquil. No disturbances what-
ever occurred in the north or west of Scotland ;
Locheill and the other chiefs were awaiting the
communication from St Germains, and held them-
selves bound in honour to remain inactive ; whilst
the remainder of the royalist forces (for whom
separate terms had been made) were left unmo-
lested at Dunkeld.

But rumours, which are too clearly traceable to
the emissaries of the new Government, asserting
the preparation made for an immediate landing of

THE WmOW OF OLENCOE. 1^3

King James at the head of a large body of the
French, were industriously circulated, and by
many were implicitly believed. The infamous
policy which dictated such a course is now appa-
rent. The term of the amnesty or trace granted
by the proclamation expired with the year 1691,
and all who had not taken the oath of allegiance
before that term were to be proceeded against
with the utinosi severity. The proclamation was
issued upon the 29th of August : consequently,
only four months were allowed for the complete
submission of the Highlands.

Not one of the chiefs subscribed until the man-
date from King James arrived. That document,
which is dated from St Germains on the 12th of
December 1691, reached Dunkeld eleven days
afterwards, and, consequently, but a Very short
time before the indemnity expired. The bearer,
Major Menzies, was so fatigued that he could pro-
ceed no farther on his journey, but forwarded the
mandate by an express to the commander of the
royal forces, who was. then at Glengarry. It was.

124 LAYS OF THB SCOTTISH CAVALIEBS.

therefore impossible that the docunient could be
circulated through the Highlands within the pre-
scribed period. Locheill, says Drummond of Bal-
haldy, did not receive his copy till about thirty
hours before the time was out, and appeared
before the sheriff at Inverara, where he took the
oatlis upon the very day on which the indemnity
expired.

That a general massacre throughout the High-
lands was contemplated by the Whig Government
is a fact established by overwhelming evidence.
In the course of the subsequent investigation be-
fore the Scots Parliament, letters were produced
from Sir John Dalrymple, then Master of Stair,
one of the secretaries of state in attendance upon
the Court, which too clearly indicate the intentions
of William. In one of these, dated 1st December
1691 — a month, be it observed, before the amnesty
expired — and addressed to Lieutenant- Colonel
Hamilton, there are the following words : — " The
winter is the only season in which we are sure
the Highlanders cannot escape us, nor carry their

THE WIDOW OP OLENCOE. 125

wivesy baima, and cattle to the mountains." And
in another letter, written only two days after-
wards, he says, "It is the only time that they
cannot escape you, for human constitution cannot
endure to be long out of houses. TJiie is the pro-
per season to matde them in tlie cold long nights'*
And in January thereafter, he informed Sir Thomas
Livingston that the design was "to destroy entirely
the country of Lochaber, LocheilFs lands, Kep-
poch's, Glengarry's, Appin, and Glencoe. I assure
you," he continues, "your power shall be full
enough, and I hope the soldiers xoill not trouble
the Government toith prisoners"

Locheill was more fortunate than others of his
friends and neighbours. According to Drummond,
— "Major Menzies, who, upon his arrival, had
observed the whole forces of the kingdom ready
to invade the Highlands, as he wrote to General
Buchan, foreseeing the unhappy consequences, not
only begged that general to send expresses to all
parts with orders immediately to submit, but also
wrote to Sir Thomas Livingston, praying him to

1^6 LAYS/OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

Supplicate the Council for a prorogation of the
time, in regard that he was 60 excessively fatigued,
that he was obliged to stop some days to repose a
little ; and that though he should send expresses,
yet it was impossible they could reach the distant
parts in such time as to allow the several persons
concerned the benefit of the indemnity within the
space limited; besides, that some persons having
put the Highlanders in a bad temper, he was con-
fident to persuade them to submit, if a further
time were allowed. Sir Thomas presented this
letter to the Council on the 5th of January 1692,
but they refused to give any answer, and ordered
him to transmit the same to Court."

The reply of William of Orange was a letter,
Countersigned by Dalrymple, in which, upon the
recital that " several of the chieftains and many of
their clans have not taken the benefit of our gra-
cious indemnity," he gave orders for a general
massacre. "To that end, we have given Sir
Thomas Livingston orders to employ our troops
(which we have already conveniently posted) to

THE WIDOW OP GLBNCOE. 127

cut off these obstinate rebels by all manner of
hostility; and we do require you to give him your
assistance and concurrence in all other things that
may conduce to that service; and because these
rebels, to avoid our forces, may draw themselves,
their families, goods, or cattle, to lurk or be con-
cealed among their neighbours : therefore we
require and authorise you to emit a proclamation,
to be published at the market-crosses of these or
the adjacent shires where the rebels reside, dis-
charging upon the highest penalties the law allows,
any reset, correspondence, or intercommuning with
these rebels." This monstrous mandate, which
was in fact . the death-warrant of many thousand
innocent people, no distinction being made of age
or sex, would, in all human probability, have been
put into execution, but for the remonstrance of
one high-minded nobleman. Lord Carmarthen,
afterwards Duke of Leeds, accidentally became
aware of the proposed massacre, and personally
remonstrated with the monarch against a measure
which he denounced as at once cruel and impolitic.

128 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

After much discussion, William, influenced rather
by an apprehension that so savage and sweeping
an act might prove fatal to his new authority,
than by any compunction or impulse of humanity,
agreed to recall the general order, and to limit
himself, in the first instance, to a single deed of
butchery, by way of testing the temper of the
nation. Some difficulty seems to have arisen in
the selection of the fittest victim. Both Keppoch
and Glencoe were named, but the personal rancour
of Secretary Dalrymple decided the doom of the
latter. The secretary wrote thus : — " Argyle tells
me that Glencoe hath not taken the oath, at which
I rejoice. It is a great work of charity to be exact
in rooting out that damnable set." The final in-
structions regarding Glencoe, which were issued
on 16th January 1692, are as follows: —

" William R. — As for M*Ian of Glencoe and that tribe,
if they can be well distinguished from the rest of the High-
landers, it will be proper for public justice to extirpate
that set of thieves. W. R."

This letter is remarkable as being signed and

THE WIDOW OF OLENCOE. 129

countersigned by William alone, contrary to the
usual practice. The secretary was no doubt
desirous to screen himself from after responsi-
bility, and was besides aware that the royal sig-
nature would insure a rigorous execution of the
sentence.

Macdonald, or, as he was more commonly de-
signed, M'lan of Glencoe, was the head of a con-
siderable sept or branch of the great Clan-Coila,
and was lineally descended from the ancient Lords
of the Isles, and from the royal family of Scot-
land — the common ancestor of the Macdonalds
having espoused a daughter of Eobert II. He
was, according to a contemporary testimony, "a
person of great integrity, honour, good nature, and
courage; and his loyalty to his old master, King
James, was such, that he continued in arms from
Dundee's first appearing in the Highlands, till the
fatal treaty that brought on his ruin." In com-
mon with the other chiefs, he had omitted taking
the benefit of the indemnity until he received the

sanction of King James: but the copy of that
I

130 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

document which was forwarded to him, unfortu-
nately arrived too late. The weather was so ex-
cessively stormy at the time that there was no
possibility of penetrating from Glencoe to Inver-
ara, the place where the sheriff resided, before the
expiry of the stated period; and M*Ian accord-
ingly adopted the only practicable mode of signi-
fying his submission, by making his way with
great difficulty to Fort-William, then called Inver-
lochy, and tendering his signature to the military
Governor there. That officer was not authorised
to receive it, but, at the earnest entreaty of the
chief, he gave him a certificate of his appearance
and tender; and on New-Year's day 1692, M^Ian
reached Inverara, where he produced that paper
as evidence of his intentions, and prevailed upon
the sheriff. Sir James Campbell of Ardkinglass,
to administer the oaths required. After that
ceremony, which was immediately intimated to
the Privy Council, had been performed, the un-
fortunate gentleman returned home, in the fall
conviction that he had thereby made peace with

THE WIDOW OP GLBNCOE. 131

Groverninent for himself and for his clan. But
his doom was already sealed.

A company of the Earl of Argyle's regiment
had been previously quartered at Glencoe. These
men, though Campbells, and hereditarily obnoxi-
ous to the Macdonalds, Camerons, and other of
the loyal clans, were yet countrymen, and were
kindly and hospitably received. Their captain,
Eobert Campbell of Glenlyon, was connected with
the family of Glencoe through the marriage of a
niece, and was resident under the roof of the chief
And yet this was the very troop selected for the
horrid service.

Special instructions were sent to the major of
the regiment, one Duncanson, then quartered at
Ballachulish — a morose, brutal, and savage man —
who accordingly wrote to Campbell of Glenlyon
in the following terms: —

" Ballacholis, 12 Feb. 1692.
" Sir, — You are hereby ordered to fall upon the rebels,
the McDonalds of Glencoe, and putt all to the sword un-
der seventy. You are to have special care that the old
fox and his sons doe upon no account escape your hands;

132 LATS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

You are to secure all the avenues, that no man escape.
This you are to put in execution att five o'clock in the
morning precisely, and by that time, or very shortly after
it, I'll strive to be att you with a stronger party. If I doe
not come to you att five, you are not to tarry for me, but
to fall on. This is by the king's speciall command, for
the good and safety of the country, that these miscreants
be cutt off root and branch. See that this be putt in exe-
cution without feud or favour, else you may expect to be
treated as not true to the king's government, nor a man
fitt to carry a commission in the king's service. Expect-
ing you will not faill in the fulfilling hereof as you love
yourself, I subscribe these with my hand.

** Robert Duncanson.

" For their Majesty's service.
" To Captain Robert Campbell of Gknlyon.**

This order was but too literally obeyed. At
tlie appointed hour, when the whole inhabitants
of the glen were asleep, the work of murder be-
gan. M*Ian was one of the first who fell. Drum-
mond*s narrative tills up the remainder of the
dreadful story.

" They then served all within the family in the
same maimer, without distinction of age or per-
son. In a word — for the horror of that execrable
butchery must give pain to the reader — they left
none alive but a young child, who, being fright-

THE WIDOW OF GLENCOE. 133

ened with the noise of the guns, and the dismal
shrieks and cries of its dying parents, whom they
were a^^murdering, got hold of Captain Campbell's
knees, and wrapt itself within his cloak; hy
which, chancing to move compassion, the captain
inclined to have saved it, but one Drummond, an
officer, arriving about the break of day with more
troops, commanded it to be shot by a file of mus-
queteers. Nothing could be more shocking and
horrible than the prospect of these houses be-
strewed with mangled bodies of the dead, covered
with blood, and resounding with the groans of
wretches in the last agonies of life.

" Two sons of Glencoe's were the only persons
that escaped in that quarter of the country; for,
growing jealous of some ill designs from the be-
haviour of the soldiers, they stole from their
beds a few minutes before the tragedy began,
and, chancing to overhear two of them discours-
ing plainly of the matter, they endeavoured to
have advertised their father; but, finding that
impracticable, they ran to the other end of the

134 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

country and alarmed the inhabitants. There was
another accident that contributed much to their
safety; for the night was so excessively stormy
and tempestuous, that four hundred soldiers, who
were appointed to murder these people, were stop-
ped in their march from Inverlochy, and could
not get up till they had time to save themselves;
To cover the deformity of so dreadful a sight, the
soldiers burned all the houses to the ground, after
having rifled them, carried away nine hundred
cows, two hundred horses, numberless herds of
sheep and goats, and everything else that be-
longed to these miserable people. Lamentable
was the case of the women and children that
escaped the butchery : the mountains were covered
with a deep snow, the rivers impassable, storm
and tempest filled the air, and added to the
horrors and darkness of the night, and there were
no houses to shelter them within many miles."*
Such was the awful massacre of Glencoe, an
event which has left an indelible and execrable
* Memoirs of Sir Ewen Cameron of Locheill.

THE WIDOW OF GLENCOE. 135

stain upon the memory of William of Orange.
The records of Indian warfare can hardly afford
a parallel instance of atrocity; and this deed,
coupled with his deliberate treachery in the
Daiien scheme, whereby Scotland was for a time
absolutely ruined, is sufficient to account for the
little estimation in which the name of the ^* great
Whig deliverer" is still regarded in the valleys
of the North.

THE WIDOW

GLENCOE

Do not lift him from the bracken,

Leave him lying where he fell —
Better bier ye cannot fashion :

None beseems him half so well
As the bare and broken heather,

And the hard and trampled sod.
Whence his angry soul ascended

To the judgment-seat of God I

138 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

Winding-slieet we cannot give him —

Seek no mantle for the dead,
Save the cold and spotless covering

Showered from heaven upon his head.
LeaVe his broadsword as we found it,

Bent and broken with the blow.
Which, before he died, avenged him

On the foremost of the foe.
Leave the blood upon his bosom —

Wash not off that sacred stain ;
Let it stiffen on the tartan.

Let his wounds unclosed remain,
Till the day when he shall show them

At the throne of Grod on high,
When the murderer and the murdeted

Meet before their Judge's eye !

II.

Nay, ye should not weep, my children !

Leave it to the faint and weak ;
Sobs are but a woman's weapon — .

Tears befit a maiden's cheek.

THE WIDOW OF GLEXOOE. 139

Weep not, children of Macdonald !

; Weep not thou, his orphan heir —
Not in shame, but stainless honour.

Lies thy slaughtered father there.
Weep not — ^but when yettrs are over,

And thine ann is strong and sure,
And thy foot is swift and steady

On the mountain and the muir —
Let thy heart be hard as iron,

And thy wrath as fierce as fire.
Till the hour when vengeance cometh

For the race that slew thy sire !
Till in deep and dark Glenlyon

Eise a louder shriek of woe,
Than at midnight, from their eyrie,

Scared the eagles of Glencoe :
Louder than the screams that mingled

With the howling of the blast,
When the murderer's steel was clashing.

And the fires were rising fast ;
When thy noble father bounded

To. the rescue of his men,

140 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

And the slogan of our kindred

Pealed throughout the startled glen !
When the herd of frantic women

Stumbled through the midnight snow,
With their fathers' houses blazing,

And their dearest dead below !
Oh, the horror of the tempest.

As the flashing drift was blown.
Crimsoned with the conflagration.

And the roofs went thundering down !
Oh, the prayers — the prayers and curses

That together winged their flight
From the maddened hearts of many

Through that long and woeful night !
TiU. the fires began to dwindle,

And the shots grew faint and few,
And we heard the foeman's challenge

Only in a far halloo :
Till the silence once more settled

O'er the gorges of the glen,
Broken only by the Cona

Plunging through its naked den.

THE WIDOW OP GLENCOB. 141

Slowly from the moimtain-summit

Was the drifting veil withdrawn,
And the ghastly valley glimmered

In the grey December dawn.
Better had the morning never

Dawned upon our dark despair !
Black amidst the common whiteness

Eose the spectral ruins there :
But the sight of these was nothing

More than wrings the wild-dove's breast,
When she searches for her offspring

Eound the relics of her nest.
For in many a spot the tartan

Peered above the wintry heap,
Marking where a dead Macdonald

Lay within his frozen sleep.
Tremblingly we scooped the covering

From each kindred victim's head.
And the living lips were burning

On the cold ones of the dead.
And I left them with their dearest —

Dearest charge had every one —

142 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

Left the maiden with her lover,

Left the mother with her son.
I alone of all was mateless —

Far more wretched I than they,
For the snow would not discover

"Where my lord and husband lay.
But I wandered up the valley,

Till I found him lying low.
With the gash upon his bosom

And the frown upon his brow —
Till I found him lying murdered,

Where he wooed me long ago !

III.

Woman*s weakness shall not shame irie-

Why should I have tears to shed 1 '
Could I rain them down like water,

my hero ! on thy head —
Could the cry of lamentation

Wake thee from thy silent sleep,
Could it set thy heart a-throbbing,

It were mine to wail and weep !

THE WIDOW OP GLENCOB. 143

But I will not waste my sorrow,

Lest the Campbell women say-
That the daughters of Clanianald

Are as weak and frail as they.
I had wept thee hadst thou fallen,

Like our fathers, on thy shield,
When a host of English foemen

Camped upon a Scottish field —
I had mourned thee, hadst thou perished

With the foremost of his name.
When the valiant and the noble

Died around the daimtless Graeme !
But I will not wrong thee, liusband !

With my unavailing cries.
Whilst thy cold and mangled body

Stricken by the traitor lies ;
Whilst he counts the gold and glory

That this hideous night has won.
And his heart is big with triumph

At the murder he has done.
Other eyes than mine shall glisten.

Other hearts be rent in twain,

144 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH OAVAUEBS.

Ere the heathbells on thy hillock

Wither in the autumn raiD.
Then 111 seek thee where thou sleepest,

And 1*11 veU my weary head.
Praying for a place heside thee,

Dearer than my bridal bed :
And I'll give thee tears, my husband !

If the tears remain to me,
When the widows of the foeman

Cry the coronach for thee !

THE ISLAND

THE SCOTS

Ik consequence of a capitulation with Govem-
ment, the regular troops who had served under
Lord Dundee were conveyed to France; and,
immediately upon their landing, the officers and
others had their rank confirmed according to the
tenor of the commissions and characters which
they hore in Scotland. They were distributed
throughout the diflFerent garrisons in the north of
France, and, though nominally in the service of
King JameSy derived their whole means of sub-

146 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

sistence from the bounty of the French monarch.
So long as it appeared probable that another de-
scent was meditated, these gentlemen, who were
almost without exception men of considerable
family, assented to this arrangement; but the
destruction of the French fleet under Admiral
Tourville, off La Hogue, led to a material change
in their views. After that naval engagement it
became obvious that the cause of the fugitive king
was in the mean time desperate, and the Scottish
officers, with no less gallantry than honour, volun-
teered a sacrifice which, so far as I know, has
hardly been equalled.

The old and interesting pamphlet written by
one of the corps,* from which I have extracted
most of the following details, but which is seldom
perused except by the antiquary, states that —
"The Scottish officers considering that, by the
loss of the French fleet. King James's restoration
would be retarded for some time, and that they

* An Account of Dundee's Officers after they went to
France, By an Officer of the Army. London : 1714.

THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS. 147

were burdensome to the King of France, being
entertained in garrisons on whole pay, without
doing duty, when he had almost all Europe in
confederacy against him; therefore humbly en-
treated King James to have them reduced into
a company of private sentinels, and chose officers
amongst themselves to command them; assuring
his Majesty that they would serve in the meanest
circumstances, and undergo the greatest hardships
and fatigues, that reason could imagine or misfor-
times inflict, until it pleased God to restore him.
King James commended their generosity and
loyalty, but disapproved of what they proposed,
and told them it was impossible that gentlemen,
who had served in so honourable posts as formerly
they had enjoyed, and lived in so great plenty and
ease, could ever undergo the fatigue and hardships
of private sentinels' duty. Again, that his own
first command was a company of officers, whereof
several died; others, wearied with fatigue, drew
their discharges ; till at last it dwindled into no-
thing, and he got no reputation by the command;

148 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

therefore he desired them to insist no more on
that project. The officers (notwithstanding his
Majesty's desire to the contrary) made several
interests at court, and harassed him so much, that
at last he condescended," and appointed those who
were to command them.

Shortly afterwards, the new corps was reviewed ^
for the first and last time by the unfortunate
James in the gardens of St Gemiains, and the
tears are said to have gushed from his eyes at
the sight of so many brave men, reduced, through
their disinterested and persevering loyalty, to so
very humble a condition. " Gentlemen," said he,
" my own misfortunes are not so nigh my heart
as yours. It grieves me beyond what I can ex-
press, to see so many brave and worthy gentle-
men, who had once the prospect of being the
chief officers in my army, reduced to the stations
of private sentinels. Nothing but your loyalty,
and that of a few of my subjects in Britain, who
are forced from their allegiance by the Prince of
Orange, and who, I know, will be ready on all

THE ISLAND OP THE SCOTS. 149

occasions to serve me and my distressed family,
could make mo willing to live. The sense of
what all of you have done and undergone for
your loyalty, hath made so deep an impression
upon my heart, that, if it ever please God to re-
store me, it is impossible I can be forgetful of
your services and sufferings. Neither can there
be any posts in the armies of my dominions but
what you have just pretensions to. As for my
son, your Prince, he is of your own blood, a child
capable of any impression, and, as his education
will be from you, it is not supposable that he
can forget your merits. At your own desires you
are now going a long march far distant from me.
Fear God and love one another. Write your
wants particularly to me, and depend upon it
always to find me your parent and King." The
scene bore a strong resemblance to one which
many years afterwards occurred at Fontainebleau.
The company listened to his words with deep
emotion, gathered round him, as if half repentant
of their own desire to go ; and so parted, for ever

150 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

on this earth, the dethroned monarch and his
exiled subjects.

The nnmber of this company of officers was
about one hundred and twenty: their destination
was Perpignan in Eoussillon, close upon the fron-
tier of Spain, where they were to join the army
under the command of the Mareschal de Noailles.
Their power of endurance, though often most
severely tested in an unwholesome climate, seems
to have been no less remarkable than their gal-
lantry, which upon many occasions called forth
the warm acknowledgment of the French com-
manders. "ZfC geniilho7nme" said one of the
generals, in acknowledgment of their readiness
at a peculiarly critical moment, " est toujours gen-
tilhomme, et se montre toujours tel dans hesoin et
dans le danger" — a eulogy as applicable to them
as it was in later days to La Tour d'Auvergne,
styled the lirst grenadier of France. At Perpig-
nan they were joined by two other Scottish com-
panies, and the three seem to have continued to
serve together for several campaigns.

THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS. 161

As a proof of the estimation in which they were
held, I shall merely extract a short account of the
taking of Eosas in Catalonia, before referring to
the exploit which forms the subject of the follow-
ing ballad. " On the 27th of May, the company
of officers, and other Scottish companies, were
joined by two companies of Irish, to make up a
battalion in order to mount the trenches ; and the
major part of the officers listed themselves in the
company of grenadiers, under the command of the
brave Major Eutherford, who, on his way to the
trenches, in sight of Mareschal de JS'oailles and
his court, marched with his company on the side
of the trench, which exposed him to the fire of
a bastion, where there were two culverins and
several other guns planted; likewise to the fire
of two curtins lined with small -shot. Colonel
Brown, following with the battalion, was obliged,
in honour, to march the same way Major Euther-
ford had done ; the danger whereof the Mareschal
immediately perceiving, ordered one of his aidesi-
die-camp to command Eutherford to march under

152 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH OAVALIERS.

cover of the trench, which he did ; and if he had
but delayed six minutes, the grenadiers and bat-
talion had been cut to pieces. Eutherford, with
his grenadiers, marched to a trench near the town,
and the battalion to a trench on the rear and flank
of the grenadiers, who fired so incessantly on the
besieged, that they thought (the breach being prac-
ticable) they were going to make their attacks,
immediately beat a chamade, and were willing to
give up the town upon reasonable terms : but the
Mareschars demands were so exorbitant that the
Governor could not agree to them. Then firing
began on both sides to be very hot; and they in
the town, seeing how the grenadiers lay, killed
eight of them. When the Governor surrendered
the town, he inquired of the Mareschal what
coimtrymen these grenadiers were; and assured
him it was on their account he delivered up the
town, because they fired so hotly that he be-
lieved they were resolved to attack the breach.
He answered, smiling, * Ges sont mes enfans^ —
They are my children. Again; 'They are the

THE ISLAND OP THE SCOTS. 153

King of Great Britain's Scottish officers, who, to
show their willingness to shard of his miseries,
have reduced themselves to the carrying of arms,
and chosen to serve under my command/ The
next day, when the Mareschal rode along the
front of the camp, he halted at the company of
the officiBrs* piquet, and they all surrounded him.
Then, with his hat in his hand, he thanked them
for their good services in the trenches, and freely
acknowledged it was their conduct and courage
which compelled the Governor to give up the
town; and assured them he would acquaint his
master with the same, which he did ; for when his
son arrived with the news at Versailles, the King,
having read the letter, immediately took coach to
St Germains, and when he had shown King James
the letter, he thanked him for the services his
subjects had done in taking Eosas in Catalonia;
who, with concern, replied, they were the stock
of his British officers, and that he was sorry he
could not make better provision for them."
And a miserable provision it was ! They were

154 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

gradually compelled to part with every ■ remnant
of the property which they had secured from the
ruins of their fortunes ; so that when they arrived,
after various adventures, at Scelestadt, in Alsace,
they were literally without the common means of
subsistence. Famine and the sword had by this
time thinned their ranks, but had not diminished
their spirit, as the following narrative of their last
exploit will show : —

"In December 1697, General Stirk, who com-
manded for the Germans, appeared with 16,000
men on the other side of the Rhine, which obliged
the Marquis de Sell to draw out all the garrisons
in Alsace, who made up about 4000 men ; and he
encamped on the other side of the Ehine, over
against General Stirk, to prevent his passing the
Rhine and carrying a bridge over into an island in
the middle of it, which the French foresaw would
be of great prejudice to them. For the enemy's
guns, placed on tjiat island, would extremely gall
their camp, which they could not hinder for the
deepness of the water, and their wanting of boats

THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS. 165

■ — ^for which the Marquis quickly sent ; tut arriv-
ing too late, the Germans had carried a bridge
over into the island, where they had posted above
five hundred men, who, by order of their engineers,
intrenched themselves ; which the company of
officers perceiving, who always grasped after
honour, and scorned all thoughts of danger, re-
solved to wade the river, and attack the Germans
in the island ; and for that effect, desired Captain
John Foster, who then commanded them, to beg
of the Marquis that they might have liberty to
attack the Germans in the island ; who told Cap-
tain Foster, when the boats came up, they should
be the first that attacked. Foster courteously
thanked the Marquis, and told him they would
wade into the island, who shrunk up his shoulders,
prayed God to bless them, and desired them to do
what they pleased." Whereupon the officers, with
the other two Scottish companies, made them-
selves ready ; and, having secured their arms
round their necks, waded into the river hand-in-
hand, " according to the Highland fashion," with

156 LAYS OP THB SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

the water as high as their breasts ; and, having
crossed the heavy stream, fell upon the Germans
in their intrenchment. These were presently-
thrown into confusion, and retreated, breaking
down their own bridges, whilst many of them
were drowned. This movement, having been made
in the dusk of the evening, partook of the char-
acter of a surprise ; but it appears to me a very
remarkable ' one, as having been effected under
such circumstances, in the dead of winter, and in
the face of an enemy who possessed the advantages
both of position and of numerical superiority.
The author of the narrative adds : — " When the
Marquis de Sell heard the firing, and understood
that the Germans were beat out of the island, he
made the sign of the cross on his face and breast,
and declared publicly that it was the bravest
action that ever he saw, and that his army had
no honour by it. As soon as the boats came, the
Marquis sent into the island to acquaint the offi-
cers that he would send them both troops and
provisions, who thanked his Excellency, and de-

THE ISLAND OP THE SCOTS. 157

sired he should be informed that they wanted no
troops, and could not spare time to make use of
provisions, and only desired spades, shovels, and
pickaxes, wherewith they might intrench them-
selves — which were immediately sent to them.
The next morning, the Marquis came into the
island, and kindly embraced every officer, and
thanked them for the good service they had done
his master, assuring them he would write a true
account of their honour and bravery to the Court
of France, which, at the reading his letters, im-
mediately went to St Germains, and thanked King
James for the services his subjects had done on
the Ehine."

The company kept possession of the island for
nearly six weeks, notwithstanding repeated at-
tempts on the part of the Germans to surprise
and dislodge them; but all these having been
defeated by the extreme watchfulness of the Scots,
General Stirk at length drew off his army, and
retreated. " In consequence of this action," says
the Chronicler, "that island is called at present

158 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

Isle d*Ecosse, and will in likelihood bear that
name until the general conflagration."

Two years afterwards, a treaty of peace was
concluded ; and this gallant company of soldiers,
worthy of a better fate, was broken up and dis-
persed. At the time when the narrative, from
which I have quoted so freely, waa compiled, not
more than sixteen of Dundee's veterans were
alive. The author concludes thus : — " And thus
was dissolved one of the best companies that ever
marched under command! Gentlemen, who, in
the midst of all their pressures and obscurity,
never forgot they were gentlemen ; and whom the
sweets of a brave, a just, and honourable con-
science rendered perhaps more happy under those
sufiferings than the most prosperous and triumph-
ant in iniquity, since our minds stamp our happi-
ness."

Some years ago, while visiting the ancient
Scottish convent at Eatisbone, my attention was
drawn to the monumental inscriptions on the
walls of the dormitory, many of which bear re-

THE ISLAND OP THE SCOTS. 159

ference to gentlemen of family and distinction,
whose political principles had involved them in
the troubles of 1688, 1715, and 1745. Whether
the cloister which now holds their dust had
afforded them a shelter in the latter years of
their misfortunes, I know not; but, for one
that is so commemorated, hundreds of the exiles
must have passed away in obscurity, buried in
the field on which they fell, or carried from the
damp vaults of the military hospital to the
trench, without any token of remembrance, or
any other wish beyond that which the minstrels
have ascribed to one of the greatest of our olden
heroes : —

" Oh ! bury me by the bracken bush.
Beneath the blooming brier ;
Let never living mortal ken
That a kindly Scot lies here !"

THE ISLAND

THE SCOTS

I.

The EMne is ronning deep and red,

The island lies before —
" Now is there one of all the host

Will dare to venture o'er 1
For not alone the river's sweep

Might make a brave man quail :
The foe are on the further side,

Their shot comes fast as hail.

L

162 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

God help US, if the middle isle

We may not hope to win !
l^ow is there any of the host

Will dare to venture in 1 "
?

II.

" The ford is deep, the banks are steep,

The island-shore lies wide :
Nor man nor horse could stem its force.

Or reach the further side.
See there 1 amidst the willow-boughs

The serried bayonets gleam ;
They've flung their bridge — they've won the isle;

The foe have crossed the stream !
Their volley flashes sharp and strong —

By all the Saints ! I trow
There never yet was soldier bom

Could force that passage now ! "

III.

y^So spoke the bold French Mareschal
With him who led the van.

THE ISLAND OP THE SCOTS. 163

Whilst rough and red Ijefore their view

The turbid river ran.
Nor bridge nor boat had they to cross

The wild and swollen Ehine,
And thundering on the other bank

Far stretched the German line.
Hard by there stood a swarthy man

Was leaning on his sword,
And a saddened smile lit up his face -7

As he heard the Captain's word.
^ I've seen a wilder stream ere now

Than that which rushes there ;
I've stemmed a heavier torrent yet

And never thought to dare.
If German steel be sharp and keen,

Is ours not strong and true ?
There may be danger in the deed,

But there is honour too."

The old lord in his saddle turned,
And hastily he said —

164 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

" Hath bold Duguesclin*s fiery heart

Awakened from the dead 1
Thou art the leader of the Scots- —

Now well and sure I know,
That gentle blood in dangerous hour

Ne^er yet ran cold nor slow,
And I have seen ye in the fight

Do all that mortal may :
I ^ If honour is the boon ye seek,

It may be won this day —
The prize is in the middle isle,

Th^re lies the adventurous way.
And armies twain are on the plain.

The daring deed to see —
Now ask thy gallant company

If they wiU foUow thee ! "

"^ "^ Eight gladsome looked the Captain then,
And nothing did he say.
But he turned him to his little band —
Oh few, I ween, were they !

THE ISLAND OP THE SOOTS. 165

The relics of the bravest force

That ever fought in fray.
No one of all that company

But bore a gentle name,
"Not one whose fathers had not stood

In Scotland's fields of fame.
All they had marched with great Dundee

To where he fought and fell,
And in the deadly battle-strife

Had venged their leader well :
And they had bent the knee to earth

When every eye was dim.
As o'er their hero's buried corpse

They sang the funeral hymn ;
And they had trod the Pass once more,

And stooped on either side
To pluck the heather from the spot

Where he had dropped and died ;
And they had bound it next their hearts,

And ta'en a last farewell
Of Scottish earth and Scottish sky.

Where Scotland's glory fell.

166 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

Then went they forth to foreign lands
Like bent and broken men,

Who leave their dearest hope behind^
And may not turn again.

VI.

^\ ur

\ " The stream," he said, " is broad and deep,
And stubborn is the foe —
^ Yon island-strength is guarded well —

Say, brothers, will ye go ?

From home and kin for many a year

Our steps have wandered wide.
And never may our bones be laid

Our fathers^ graves beside.
No children have we to lament.

No wives to wail our fall ;
The traitor's and the spoiler's hand

Have reft our hearths of all.
But we have hearts, and we have arms,
As strong to will and dare

THE ISLAND OP THE SCOTB. 167

As when our ancient banners flew

"Within the northern air.
Come, brothers ! let me name a spell

Shall rouse your souls again,
And send the old blood bounding free

Through pulse, and heart, and vein.
Call back the days of bygone years —

Be young and strong once more ;
Think yonder stream, so stark and red,

Is one weVe crossed before.
Kise, hill and glen ! rise, crag and wood !

Rise up on either hand —
Again upon the Garry's banks,

On Scottish soil we stand !
Again I see the tartans wave,

Again the trumpets ring ;
Again I hear our leader's call —

* Upon them for the King ! *
Stayed we behind that glorious day

For roaring flood or linn 1
The soul of Graeme is with us still —

Now, brothers ! will ye in ? "

168 LAYS OP THB SCOTTISH CAVALIERS,

VII.

^ No stay — ^no pause. With one accord

They grasped each other's hand,
Then plunged into the angry flood,

That bold and dauntless band.
High flew the spray above their heads,

Yet onward still they bore,
Midst cheer, and shout, and answering yeU,
/ And shot, and cannon-roar —

" !Now, by the Holy Cross ! I swear.

Since earth and sea began,
"Was never such a daring deed

Essayed by mortal man ! "

VIII.

Thick blew the smoke across the stream,
And faster flashed the flame :

The water plashed in hissing jets
As ball and buUet came.

Yet onwards pushed the Cavaliers
All stem and undismayed,

THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS. 169

With thousand armed foes before,

And none behind to aid. ^

Once, as they neared the middle stream, *

So strong the torrent swept,
That scarce that long and living wall

Their dangerous footing kept.
Then rose a warning cry behind, ^

A joyous shout before :
" The current's strong — the way is long —

They'll never reach the shore !
See, see ! they stagger in the midst.

They waver in their line !
Fire on the madmen ! break their ranks.

And whelm them in the Ehine ! "

IX.

Have you seen the tall trees swaying
When the blast is sounding shrill.

And the whirlwind reels in fury
Down the gorges of the hill?

How they toss their mighty branches,
Struggling with the tempest's shock ;

170 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

How they keep their place of vantage,

Cleaving firmly to the rock ?
Even so the Scottish warriors

Held their own against the river ;
Though the water flashed around them,

Not an eye was seen to quiver ;
Though the shot flew sharp and deadly,

Not a man relaxed his hold :
For their hearts were big and thrilling

With the mighty thoughts of old.
One word was spoke among them,
j^ And through the ranks it spread —
" Eemember our dead Claverhouse !"
Was all the Captain said,
^jlien, sternly bending forward,
They wrestled on awhile,
M Until they cleared the heavy stream,

Then rushed towards the isle.

X.

The German heart is stout and true,
The German arm is strong ;

THE ISLAND OP THE SOOTS. 171

The German foot goes seldom back

Where armM foemen throng.
But never had they faced in Held

So stem a charge before,
And never had they felt the sweep

Of Scotland's broad claymore.
'^1^'ot fiercer pours the avalanche

Adown the steep incline,
That rises o'er the parent-springs

Of rough and rapid Ehine —
Scarce swifter shoots the bolt from heaven '

Than came the Scottish band
Right up against the guarded trench,

And o*er it sword in hand.
In vain their leaders forward press —

They meet the deadly brand !

XI.

lonely island of the Ehine —

"Where seed was never sown,
What harvest lay upon thy sands,

By those strong reapers thrown ?

172 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

What saw the wmter moon that night,

As, struggling through the rain,
She poured a wan and fitful light

On marsh, and stream, and plain?
A dreary spot with corpses strewn,

And bayonets glistening round ;
A broken bridge, a stranded boat,

A bare and battered mound ;
And one huge watch-fire's kindled pile,

That sent its quivering glare
To tell the leaders of the host

The conquering Scots were there !

XII.

And did they twine the laurel-wreath

For those who fought so well ?
And did they honour those who lived,

And weep for those who fell ?
What meed of thanks was given to them

Let ag^d annals tell.
Why should they bring the laurel-wreath —

Why crown the cup with wine ?

THE ISLAND OF THE SOOTS. 173

It waa not Frenchmen's blood that flowed

So freely on the Rhine — •
A stranger hand of beggared men

Had done the venturous deed :
The glory was to France alone,

The danger was their meed.
And what cared they for idle thanks

From foreign prince and peer ?
What virtue had such honeyed words

The exiled heart to cheer?
What mattered it that men should vaunt

And loud and fondly swear,
That higher feat of chivalry-
Was never wrought elsewhere ?
They bore within their breasts the grief

That fame can never heal —
The deep, unutterable woe

Which none save exiles feel.
Their hearts were yearning for the land

They ne*er might see again —
For Scotland's high and heathered hills,

For mountain, loch, and glen —

174 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIEBS.

For tliose wlio haply lay at rest

Beyond the distant sea,
Beneath the green and daisied turf

Where they would gladly be !

XIII.

^ Long years went by. The lonely isle

In Ehine's impetuous flood
Has ta'en another name &om those

Who bought it with their blood :
And, though the legend does not live —

For legends lightly die —
The peasant, as he sees the stream

In winter rolling by,
And foaming o'er its channel-bed

Between him and the spot
Won by the warriors of the sword,
StiU calls that deep and dangerous ford

The Passage of the Scot.

CHARLES EDWARD

VERSAILLES

Though the sceptre had departed from the House
of Stuart, it was reserved for one of its last de-
scendants to prove to the world, by his personal
gallantry and noble spirit of enterprise, that he at
least had not degenerated from his royal line of
ancestors. The daring effort of Charles Edward
to recover the crown of these kingdoms for his
father, is to us the most remarkable incident of
the last century. It was honourable alike to the
Prince and to those who espoused his cause ; and

176 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

even in a political point of view, the outbreak
ought not to he deplored, since its failure put an
end for ever to the dynastical struggle which, for
more than half a century, had agitated the whole
of Britain j since it established the rule of law
and of social order throughout the mountainous
districts of Scotland, and blended Celt and Saxon
into one prosperous and united people. It was
better that the antiquated system of clanship
should have expired in a blaze of glory, than gra-
dually dwindled into contempt ; better that the
patriarchal rule should at once have been extin-
guished by the dire catastrophe of Culloden, than
that it should have lingered on, the shadow of an
old tradition. There is nothing now to prevent
us from dwelling with pride and admiration on
the matchless devotion displayed by the High-
landers, in 1745, in behalf of the heir of him
whom they acknowledged as their lawful king.
No feeling can arise to repress the interest and
the sympathy which is excited by the perusal of
the tale narrating the sufferings of the princely

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 177

wanderer. That unbought loyalty and allegiance
of the heart, which would not depart from its
constancy until the tomb of the Vatican had
closed upon the last of the Stuart line, has long
since been transferred to the constitutional sove-
reign of these realms; and the enthusiastic wel-
come which has so often greeted the return of
Queen Victoria to her Highland home, owes its
origin to a deeper feeling than that dull respect
which modem liberalism asserts to be the only
tribute due to the first magistrate of the land.

The campaign of 1745 yields in romantic inte-
rest to none which is written in history. A young
and inexperienced prince, whose person was utterly
unknown to any of his adherents, landed on the
west coast of Scotland, not at the head of a foreign
force, not munimented with supplies and arms,
but accompanied by a mere handful of followers,
and ignorant of the language of the people amongst
whom he was hazarding his person. His presence
in Scotland had not been urged by the chiefe of
the clans, most of whom were deeply averse to

178 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAYALIEBS.

embarking in an enterprise which must involve
them in a war with so powerful an antagonist as
England, and which, if unsuccessful, could only
terminate in the utter ruin of their fortunes. This
was not a cause in which the whole of Scotland
was concerned. Although it was well known that
many leading families in the Lowlands entertained
Jacobite opinions, and although a large proportion
of the common people had not yet become recon-
ciled to, or satisfied of the advantages of the Union,
by which they considered themselves dishonoured
and betrayed, it was hardly to be expected that,
without some fair guarantee for success, the bulk
of the Scottish nation would actively bestir them-
selves on the side of the exiled family. Besides
this, even amongst the Highlanders there was not
unanimity of opinion. The three northern clans
of Sutherland, Mackay, and Monro, were known
to be stanch supporters of the Government. It
was doubtful what part might be taken in the
struggle by those of Mackenzie and Eoss. The
chiefs of Skye, who could have brought a large

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 179

force of armed men into the field, had declined
participating in the attempt. The adhesion of
Lord Lovat, upon which the co-operation of the
Erasers might depend, could not he calculated on
with certainty ; and nothing hut hostility could
he expected from the powerful sept of the Camp-
hells. Under such circumstances, it is little won-
der if Cameron of Locheill, the most sagacious of
all the chieftains who favoured the Stuart cause,
was struck with consternation and alarm at the
news of the Prince's landing, or that he attempted
to persuade him from undertaking an adventure so
seemingly hopeless. Mr Kohert Chamhers, in his
admirahle history of that period, does not in the
least exaggerate the importance of the interview
on the result of which the prosecution of the war
depended. " On arriving at Borrodale, Locheill
had a private interview with the Prince, in which
the prohahihties of the enterprise were anxiously
dehated. Charles used every argument to excite
the loyalty of Locheill, and the chief exerted all
his eloquence to persuade the Prince to withdraw

180 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

till a better opportunity. Charles represented the
present as the best possible opportunity, seeing
that the French general kept the British army
completely engaged abroad, while at home there
were no troops but one or two newly-raised regi-
ments. He expressed his confidence that a small
body of Highlanders would be suflficient to gain
a victory over all the force that could now be
brought against him; and he was equally sure
that such an advantage was all that was required
to make his friends at home declare in. his favour,
and cause those abroad to send him assistance.
All he wanted was that the Highlanders would
begin the war. Locheill still resisted, entreating
Charles to be more temperate, and consent to
remain concealed where he was, till his friends
should meet together and concert what was best
to be done. Charles, whose mind was wound up
to the utmost pitch of impatience, paid no regard
to this proposal, but answered that he was deter-
mined to put all to the hazard. * In a few days,'
said he, * with the few friends I have, I will raise

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 181

the royal standard, and proclaim to the people of
Britain that Charles Stuart is come over to claim
the crown of his ancestors — ^to win it, or to perish
in the attempt! Locheill — ^who, my father has
often told me, was our firmest friend — may stay
at home, and learn from the newspapers the fate
of his Prince !' * No ! * said Locheill, stung by so
poignant a reproach, and hurried away by the
enthusiasm of the moment ; * I will share the fate
of my Prince, and so shall every man over whom
nature or fortune has given me any power/ Such
was the juncture upon which depended the civil
war of 1745 ; for it is a point agreed, says Mr
Home, who narrates this conversation, that if
Locheill had persisted in his refusal to take arms,
no other chief would have joined the standard,
and the spark of rebellion must have been in-
stantly extinguished.'* Not more than twelve
hundred men were assembled in Glenfinnan on
the day when the standard was imfurled by the
Marquis of Tullibardine ; and at the head of this
mere handful of followers, Charles Edward com-

182 LATS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

menced the stupendous enterprise of reconquering
the dominions of his fathers.

With a force which, at the battle of Preston,
did not double the above numbers, the Prince
descended upon the Lowlands, having baffled the
attempts of General Cope to intercept his march
—occupied the city of Perth, and the town of
Dundee, and finally, after a faint show of resist-
ance on the part of the burghers,. took possession
of the ancient capital of Scotland, and once more
established a court in the halls of Holyrood. His
youth, his gallantry, and the grace and beauty of
his person, added to a most winning and affable
address, acquired for him the sympathy of many
who, from political motives, abstained from be-
coming his adherents. Possibly certain feelings
of nationality, which no deliberate views of civil
or religious policy could altogether extirpate, led
such men to regard, with a sensation akin to pride,
the spectacle of a prince descended from the long
line of Scottish kings, again occupying his ances-
tral seat, and restoring to their country, which

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 183

had been utterly neglected by the new dynasty,
a portion of its former state. No doubt a sense
of pity for the probable fate of one so young and
chivalrous was often present to their minds, for
they had thorough confidence in the intrepidity
of the regular troops, and in the capacity of their
commander; and they never for a moment sup-
posed that these could be successfully encoun-
tered by a raw. levy of undisciplined Highlanders,
ill armed and worse equipped, and without the
support of any artillery.

The issue of the battle of Prestonpans struck
Edinburgh with amazement. In point of num-
bers the two armies were nearly equal, but in
everything else, save personal valour, the royal
troops had the advantage. And yet, in four
minutes — ^for the battle is said not to have lasted
longer — ^the Highlanders having made only one
terrific and impetuous charge — ^the rout of the
regulars was general. The infantry was broken
and cut to pieces; the dragoons, who behaved
shamefully on the occasion, turned bridle and

184 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

fled, without having once crossed swords with
the enemy. Mr Chambers thus terminates his
account of the action : " The general result of the
"battle of Preston may be stated as having been
the total overthrow and almost entire destruction
of the royal army. Most of the infantry, fall-
ing upon the park walls of Preston, were there
huddled together without the power of resistance
into a confused drove, and had either to surren-
der or be cut to pieces. Many, in vainly attempt-
ing to climb over the walls, fell an easy prey to
the ruthless claymore. Nearly 400, it is said,
were thus slain, 700 taken, while only about 170
in all succeeded in effecting their escape.

" The dragoons, with worse conduct, were much
more fortunate. In falling 'back, they had the
good luck to find outlets from their respective
positions by the roads which ran along the vari-
ous extremities of the park wall, and they thus
got clear through the viUage with little slaughter ;
after which, as the Highlanders had no horse to
pursue them, they were safe. Several officers,

CHABLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 185

among whom were Fowkes and Lascelles, escaped
to Cockenzie and along Seton Sands, in a direc-
tion contrary to the general flight.

"The unfortunate Cope had attempted, at the
first break of Gardiner's dragoons, to stop and
rally them, but was borne headlong, with the
confused bands, through the narrow road to the
south of the enclosures, notwithstanding all his
efforts to the contrary. On getting beyond the
village, where he was joined by the retreating
bands of the other regiment, he made one anxious
effort, with the Earls of Loudon and Home, to
form and bring them back to charge the enemy,
now disordered by the pursuit; but in vain. They
fled on, ducking their heads along their horses'
necks to escape the bullets which the pursuers
occasionally sent after them. By using great
exertions, and holding pistols to the heads of the
troopers. Sir John and a few of his officers in-
duced a small number of them to halt in a field
near St Clement's Wells, about two miles from
the battle-ground. But, after a momentary de-

186 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

lay, the accidental finng of a pistol renewed the
panic, and they rode off once more in great dis-
order. Sir John Cope, with a portion of them,
reached Channelkirk at an early hour in the fore-
noon, and there halted to breakfast, and to write
a hiief note to one of the state-officers, relating
the fate of the day. He then resumed his flight,
and reached Coldstream that night. Next morn-
ing he proceeded to Berwick, whose fortifications
seemed competent to give the security he required.
He everywhere brought the first tidings of his
own defeat."

This victory operated very much in flavour of
Prince Charles. It secured him, for a season, the
undisputed possession of Scotland, and enabled
nimierous adherents from all parts of the country
to raise such forces as they could command, and
to repair to his bfuiner. His popularity in Edin-
burgh daily increased, as the qualities of his per-
son and mind became known; and such testimony
as the following, with respect to his estimation by
the fair sex and the devotion they exhibited in his

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 187

cause, is not overcharged : " His affability and
great personal grace wrought him high fiBivour
with the ladies, who, as we learn fix)m the letters
of President Forbes, became generally so zealous
in his cause as to have some serious effect in in-
ducing their admirers to declare for the Prince.
There was, we know for certain, a Miss Lumsden,
who plainly told her lover, a young artist, named
Eobert Strange, that he might think no more
of her unless he should immediately join Prince
Charles, and thus actually prevailed upon him to
take up arms. It may be added that he survived
the enterprise, escaped with great difficulty, and
married the lady. He was afterwards the best
line-engraver of his time, and received the honour
of knighthood fix)m George III. White ribbons
and breastknots became at this time conspicuous
articles of female attire in private assemblies.
The ladies also showed considerable zeal in con-
tributing plate and other articles for the use
of the Chevalier at the palace, and in raising
pecuniary subsidies for him. Many a posset-

188 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIEBS.

dish and snuff-box, many a treasured necklace
and repeater, many a jewel which had adorned
its successive generations of family heauties, was
at this time sold or laid in pledge, to raise a little
money for the service of Prince Charlie."

As to the motives and intended policy of this
remarkahle and unfortunate young man, it may
be interesting to quote the terms of the procla-
mation which he issued on the 10th October
1745, before commencing his march into Eng-
land. Let his history be impartially read — ^his
character,, as spoken to by those who knew him
best, fairly noted — and I think there cannot be
a doubt that, had he succeeded in his daring
attempt, he would have been true to the letter
of his word, and fulfilled a pledge which Britain
never more required than at the period when
that document was penned.

"Do not the pulpits and congregations of the
clergy, as well as your weekly papers, ring with
the dreadful threats of popery, slavery, tyranny,
and arbitrary power, which are now ready to be

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 189

imposed upon you by the fonnidaWe powers of
Fi-ance and Spain] Is not my royal father re-
presented as a bloodthirsty tyrant, breathing out
nothing but destruction to all who will not im-
mediately embrace an odious religion? Or have
I myself been better used? But listen only to
the naked truth.

" I, with my own money, hired a small vessel.
Hi-supplied with money, arms, or Mends, I ar-
rived in Scotland, attended by seven persons. I
publish the King my father's declaration, and
proclaim his title, with pardon in one hand, and
in the other liberty of conscience, and the most
solemn promises to grant whatever a free Parlia-
ment shall propose for the happiness of the people.
I have, I confess, the greatest reason to adore
the goodness of Almighty God, who has in so
remarkable a manner protected me and my small
army through the many dangers to which we
were at first exposed, and who has led nie in
the way to victory, and to the capital of this
ancient kingdom, amidst the acclamations of the

190 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

King my father's subjects. Why, then, is so
much pains taken to spirit up the minds of the
people against this my undertaking?

"The reason is obvious; it is, lest the real
sense of the nation's present sufferings should
blot out the remembrance of past misfortunes,
and of the outcries formerly raised against the
royal family. Whatever miscarriages might have
given occasion to them, they have been more
than atoned for since; and the nation has now
an opportunity of being secured against the like
in future.

"That our family has suffered exile during
these fifty-seven years, everybody knows. Has
the nation, during that period of time, been the
more happy and flourishing for it? Have you
found reason to love and cherish your governors
as the fathers of the people of Great Britain and
Ireland? Has a family, upon whom a faction
unlawfully bestowed the diadem of a rightful
prince, retained a due sense of so great a trust
and favour? Have you found more humanity

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 191

and condescension in .those who were not bom
to a crown, than in my royal forefathers? Have
their ears been open to the cries of the people?
Have they or do they consider only the interests
of these nations? Have you reaped any other
benefit from them than an immense load of debt?
If I am answered in the affirmative, why has
their government been so often railed at in all
your public assemblies? Why has the nation
been so long crying out in vain for redress against
the abuse of Parliaments, upon account of their
long duration, the multitude of placemen, which
occasions their venality, the introduction of penal
laws,, and, in general, against the miserable situa-
tion of the kingdom at home and abroad? All
these, and many more inconveniences, must now
be removed, unless the people of Great Britain be
already so far corrupted that they will not accept
of freedom when offered to them, seeing the King,
on his restoration, wiU refuse nothing that a free
Parliament C£tn ask for the security of the religion,
laws, and liberty of his people.

192 LATS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVAUEBS.

" It is now time to conclude ; and I shall do it
with this reflection : Civil wars are ever attended
with rancour and ill-will, which party-rage never
fails to produce in the minds of those whom dif-
ferent interests, principles, or views, set in oppo-
sition to one another. I, therefore, earnestly re-
quire it of my friends to give as little loose as
possible to such passions: this will prove the
most effectual means to prevent the same in the
enemies of my royal cause. And this my de-
claration will vindicate to all posterity the noble-
ness of my undertaking and the generosity of my
intentions."

There was much truth in the open charges
preferred in this declaration against the existing
Government. The sovereigns of the house of
Hanover had always shown a marked predilec-
tion for their Continental possessions, and had
proportionally neglected the affairs of Britain.
Under Walpole's administration, the Imperial
Parliament had degenerated from an indepen-
dent assembly to a junta of placemen, and the

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 193

most flagitious system of bribery was openly prac-
tised and avowed. It was not without reason
that Charles contrasted the state of the nation
then, with its position when under the rule of
the legitimate family; and had there not been
a strong, though, I think, unreasonable suspicion
in the minds of many, that his success would be
the prelude to a vigorous attack upon the estab-
lished religions of the country, and that he would
be inclined to follow out in this respect the fatal
policy of his grandfather, Charles would in all
probability have received a more active and gene-
ral support than was accorded to him. But the
zeal with which the Episcopalian party in Scot-
land espoused his cause, naturally gave rise to the
idea that the attempt of the Piince was of evil
omen to Presbytery; and the settlement of the
Church upon its present footing was yet so recent,
that the sores of the old feud were still festering
and green. The Established clergy, therefore,
were, nearly to a man, opposed to his preten-
sions ; and one minister of Edinbui^h, at the time

194 LAT8 OF THE SCOTTISH CAYALIEBS.

when the Highland host was in possession of the
city, had the courage to conclude his prayer nearly
in the following terms — "Bless the king; Thou
knows what king I mean — may his crown long
sit easy on his head. And as to this young man
who has come among us to seek an earthly crown,
we beseech Thee in mercy to take him to Thyself
and give him a crown of glory!" At the same time
it is very curious to observe, that the most violent
sect of Presbyterians, who might be considered
as the representatives of the extreme Cameroniaii
principle, and who had early seceded from the
Church, and bitterly opposed the union of the
kingdoms, were not indisposed, on certain terms,
to coalesce with the Jacobites. It is hardly pos-
sible to understand the motives which actuated
these men, who appear to have regarded each suc-
cessive Government as equally obnoxious. Some
writers go the length of averring that, in 1688,
a negotiation was opened by one section of the
Covenanters with Lord Dundee, with the object
of resistance to the usurpation of William of

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 195

Orange, and that the project was finistrated only
hy the death of that heroic nobleman. Sir Walter
Scott — a great authority — seems to have been
convinced that such was the case; but in the
absence of direct proof^ I can hardly credit it.
It is perfectly well known that a conspiracy was
formed by a certain section of the Cameronian
party to assassinate Lords Dundee and Dun-
fermline whilst in attendance at the meeting of
Estates ; and although the recognition of Wil-
liam as king might not have been palatable to
others who held the same opinions, it would be a
strange thing if they had so suddenly resolved to
assist Dundee in his efforts for the exiled feimily.
But the political changes in Scotland, more espe-
cially the Union, seem to have inspired some
of these men with a spirit of disaffectiq;! to the
Government ; for, according to Mr Chambers, the
most rigid sect of Presbyterians had, since the
Revolution, expressed a strong desire to coalesce
with the Jacobites, with the hope, in case the
house of Stuart were restored, to obtain what they

196 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

called a covenanted King. Of this sect one thou-
sand had assembled in Dumfriesshire at the first
intelligence of the insurrection, bearing arms and
colours, and supposed to contemplate a junction
with the Chevalier. But these religionists were
now almost as violently distinct from the Estab-
lished Church of Scotland as ever they had been
from those of England and Eome, and had long
ceased to play a prominent part in the national
disputes. Tlie Established clergy, and the greater
part of their congregations, were averse to Charles,
upon considerations perfectly moderate, at the same
time not easy to be shaken.

On commencing his march into England,
Charles found himself at the head of an army of
between five thousand and six thousand men,
which force was considered strong enough, with
the augmentations it might receive on the way,
to effect the occupation of London. Had the Eng-
lish Jacobites performed their part with the same
zeal as the Scots, it is more than probable that the
attempt would have been crowned with success.

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 197

As it was, the Prince succeeded in reducing the
strong fortified town of Carlisle, and in marching
without opposition through the heart of England,
as far as Derby, within one hundred miles of the
metropolis. But here his better genius deserted
him. Discord had crept into his counsels ; for
some of the chiefs became seriously alarmed at
finding that the gentry of England, so far from
preparing to join the expedition, prefeiTed re-
maining at home, inactive spectators of the con-
test. Except at Manchester, they had received
few or no recruits. No tidings had reached them
from Wales — ^a country supposed to be devoted to
the cause of King James, whilst it was well known
that a large force was already in arms to oppose
the clans. Mr Chambers gives us the following
details : — " At a council of war held on the
morning of the 5th December, Lord George Mur-
ray and the other members gave it as their unani-
mous opinion that the army ought to return to
Scotland. Lord George pointed out that they
were about to be environed by three armies.

198 LATS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

amounting collectively to about thirty thousand
men, while their own forces were not above five
thousand, if so many. Supposing an unsuccessful
engagement with any of these armies, it could not
be expected that one man would escape, for the
militia would beset every road. The Prince, if
not slain in the battle, must fall into the enemy's
hands; the whole world would blame them as
fools for running into such a risk. Charles an-
swered, that he regarded not his own danger. He
pressed, with all the force of argument, to go for-
ward. He did not doubt, he said, that the justice
of his cause would prevail. He was hopeful that
there might be a defection in the enemy's army,
and that many would declare for him. He was
so very bent on putting all to the risk, that the
Duke of Perth was for it, since his Eoyal High-
ness was. At last he proposed going to Wales
instead of returning to Carlisle ; but every other
officer declared his opinion for a retreat. These
are nearly the words of Lord George Murray. We
are elsewhere told that the Prince condescended

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 199

to use entreaties to induce his adherents to alter
their resolution. * Eather than go back/ he said,
* I would wish to be twenty feet under ground 1 '
His chagrin, when he found his councillors obdu-
rate, was beyond all bounds. The council broke
up, on the understanding that the retreat was to
commence next morning ; Lord George volunteer-
ing to take the place of honour in the rear, pro-
vided only that he should not be troubled with
the baggage.*'

This resolution was received by the army with
marks of unequivocal vexation. Eetreat, in their
estimation, was little less than overthrow; and
it was most galling to find that, after all their
labours, hazards, and toils, they were doomed
to disappointment at the very moment when
the prize seemed ready for their grasp. That
the movement was an injudicious one is, I
think, obvious. We are told, upon good autho-
rity, "that the very boldness of the Prince's
onward movement, especially taken into connec-
tion with the expected descent from France, had

200 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

at length disposed the English Jacobites to come
out ; and many were just on the point of declar-
ing themselves, and marching to join his army,
when the retreat from Derby was determined on.
A Mr Barry arrived in Derby two days after the
Prince left it, with a message from Sir Watkin
William Wynne and Lord Barrymore, to assure
him, in the names of many friends of the cause,
that they were ready to join him in what manner
he pleased, either in the capital, or every one to
rise in his own country. I have likewise been
assured that many of the Welsh gentry had actu-
ally left their homes, and were on the way to join
Charles, when intelligence of his retreat at once
sent them all back peaceably, convinced that it
was now too late to contribute their assistance.
These men, from the power they had over their
tenantry, could have added materially to his
military force. In fact, from all that appears,
we must conclude that the insurgents had a very
considerable chance of success from an onward
movement — also, no doubt, a chance of destruc-

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 201

tion, and yet not worse than wliat ultimately befell
many of them ; while a retreat broke in a moment
the spell which their gallantry had conjured up,
and gave the enemy a great advantage over them."
One victory more was accorded to Prince
Charles before his final overthrow. After suc-
cessfully conducting his retreat to Scotland, oc-
cupying Glasgow, and strengthening his army by
the accession of new recruits, he gave battle to
the royal forces under General Hawley at Fal-
kirk, and, as at Preston, drove them from the
field. The parties were on this occasion fairly
matched, there being about eight thousand men
engaged on either side. The action was short;
and, though not so decisive as the former one,
gave great confidence to the insurgents. It has
been thus picturesquely portrayed by the histo-
rian of the enterprise : — " Some individuals, who
beheld the battle from the steeple of Falkirk,
used to describe its main events as occupying
a surprisingly brief space of time. They first saw
the English army enter the misty and stonn-

202 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

covered muir at the top of the hill; then saw
the dull atmosphere thickened by a fast-rolling
smoke, and heard the pealing sounds of the dis-
charge; immediately after, they beheld the dis-
comfited troops burst wildly from the cloud in
which they had been involved, and rush in far-
spread disorder over the face of the hill. From
the commencement to what they styled *the
break of the battle,' there did not intervene more
than ten minutes — so soon may an efficient body
of men become, by one transient emotion of
cowardice, a feeble and contemptible rabble.

"The rout would have been total, but for the
three out-flanking regiments. These not having
been opposed by any of the clans, having a ravine
in front, and deriving some support from a small
body of dragoons, stood their ground under the
command of General Huske and Brigadier Chol-
mondley. When the Highlanders went past in
pursuit, they received a volley from this part of
the English army, which brought them to a pause,
and caused them to draw back to their former

CHARLES EDWABD AT VERSAILLES. 203

ground, their impression being that some ambus-
cade was intended. This saved the English army
from destruction. A pause took place, during
which the bulk of the English infantry got back
to Falkirk. It was not until Lord George Mur-
ray brought up the second line of his wing and
the pickets, with some others on the other wing,
that General Huske drew off his party, which he
did in good order.*'

The seat of war was now removed to the North.
The month of April 1746 found Prince Charles
in possession of Inverness with an army sorely
dwindled in numbers, and in great want of neces-
saries and provisions. Many of the Highlanders
had retired for the winter to their native glens,
and had not yet rejoined the standard. The Duke
of Cumberland, who now commanded the English
army, with a reputation not diminished by the
unfortunate issue of Eontenoy, was at the head
of a large body of tried and disciplined troops, in
the best condition, and supported by the power-
ful arm of artillery.

204 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

He effected the passage of the Spey, a large and
rapid river which intersects the Highlands, with-
out encountering any opposition, and on the 15th
of the month had arrived at Nairn, about nine
miles distant from the position occupied by his
kinsman and opponent. His superiority in point
of strength was so great that the boldest of the
insurgent chiefs hesitated as to the policy of giv-
ing immediate battle ; and nothing but the desire
of covering Inverness prevented the council from
recommending a further retreat into the moun-
tains, where they could not have been easily fol-
lowed, and where they were certain to have met
with reinforcements. As to the Prince, his confi-
dence in the prowess of the Highlanders was so
unbounded, that, even with such odds against him,
he would not listen to a proposal for delay.

There yet remained, says Mr Chambers, before
playing the great stake of a pitched battle, one
chance of success, by the irregular mode of war-
fare to which the army was accustomed ; and
Charles resolved to put it to trial. This was a

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 205

night attack upon the camp of the Duke of Cum-
berland. He rightly argued, that if his men
could approach without being discovered, and
make a simultaneous attack in more than one
place, the royal forces, then probably either en-
gaged in drinking their commander's health (the
15th happened to be the anniversary of the Duke's
birthday, and was celebrated as such by his army),
or sleeping off the effects of the debauch, must be
completely surprised and cut to pieces, or at least
effectually routed. The time appointed for set-
ting out upon the march was eight in the even-
ing, when daylight should have completely disap-
peared; and, in the mean time, great pains were
taken to conceal the secret from the anny.

This resolution was entered into at three in the
afternoon, and orders were given to collect the
men who had gone off in search of provisions.
The officers dispersed themselves to Inverness and
other places, and besought the stragglers to repair
to the muir. But, under the influence of hunger,
they told their commanders to shoot them if they

206 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH OAYALIERS.

pleased, rather than compel them to starve any
longer. Charles had previously declared, with his
characteristic fervour, that though only a thou-
sand of his men should accompany him, he would
lead them on to the attack ; and he was not now
intimidated when he saw twice that number ready
to assist in the enterprise ; though some of his
officers would willingly have made this deficiency
of troops an excuse for abandoning what they
esteemed at best a hazardous expedition. Having
given out for watchword the name of his father,
he embraced Lord George Murray, who was to
command the foremost column, and, putting him-
self at the head of that which followed, gave the
order to march.

The attempt proved peculiarly unfortunate,
and from the fatigue which it occasioned to the
Highlanders, contributed in a great degree to-
wards the disaster of the following day. The
night chanced to be uncommonly dark, and as
it was well known that Cumberland had stationed
spies on the principal roads, it became necessary

OHABLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 207

to select a devious route, in order to effect a sur^
prise. The columns, proceeding over broken and
irregular ground, soon became scattered and dis-
located; no exertions of the officers could keep
the men together, so that Lord George Murray
at two o'clock found that he was still distant
three miles from the hostile camp, and that there
were no hopes of commencing the attack before
the break of day, when they would be open to
the observation of the enemy. Under these cir-
cumstances a retreat was commenced; and the
scheme, which at. one time seemed to hold out
every probability of success, was abandoned.

"The Higlilanders returned, fatigued and dis-
consolate, to their former position, about seven
in the morning, when they immediately adcbessed
themselves to sleep, or went away in search of
provisions. So scarce was food at this critical
juncture, that the Prince himself, on retiring to
CuUoden House, could obtain no better refresh-
ment than a little bread and whisky. He felt
the utmost anxiety regarding his men, among

208 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

whom the pangs of hunger, upon bodies exhausted
by fatigue, must have been working effects most
unpromising to his success; and he gave orders,
before seeking any repose, that the whole country
should now be mercilessly ransacked for the means
of refreshment. His orders were not without
effect. Considerable supplies were procured, and
subjected to the cook's art at Inverness; but the
poor famished clansmen were destined never to
taste these provisions, the hour of battle arriving
before they were prepared."

About eleven in the forenoon, the troops of
Cumberland were observed upon the eastern
extremity of the wide muir of Cidloden, and
pi'eparations were instantly made for the coming
battle. The army had been strengthened that
morning by the arrival of the Keppoch Mac-
donalds and a party of the Frasers; but, even
with these reinforcements, the whole available
force which the Prince could muster was about
five thousand men, to oppose at fearful odds an
enemy twice as numerous, and heavily supported

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 209

by artillery. Fortune on this day seemed to have
deserted the Prince altogether. In drawing out
the line of battle, a most unlucky arrangement
was made by O'Sullivan, who acted as adjutant,
whereby the Macdonald regiments were removed
from the right wing — the place which the great
Clan Coila has been privileged to hold in Scottish
array ever since the auspicious battle of Bannock -
bum. To those who are not acquainted with the
peculiar temper and spirit of the Highlanders,
and their punctilio upon points of honour and
precedence, the question of arrangement will
naturally appear a matter of little importance.
But it was not so felt by the Macdonalds, who
considered their change of position as a positive
degradation, and who further looked upon it as
an evil omen to the success of the battle. The
results of this mistake will be noticed imme-
diately.

Just before the commencement of the action,
the weather, which had hitherto been fair and
sunny, became overcast, and a heavy blast of

210 LAT8 OF THB SCOTTISH CAVAUEBS.

rain and sleet beat directly in the &ces of the
Highlanders. The English artillery then began
to play upon them, and, being admirably served,
every discharge told with fearful effect upon the
ranks. The chief object of either party at the
battle of Culloden seems to have been to force
its opponent to leave his position, and to com-
mence the attack. Cumberland, finding that
his artillery was doing such execution, had no
occasion to move; and Charles appears to have
committed a great error in abandoning a mode
of warfare which was peculiarly suited for his
troops, and which on two previous occasions
had proved eminently successful. Had he at
once ordered a general charge, and attempted to
silence the guns, the issue of the day might have
been otherwise; but his unfortunate star prevailed.
"It was ifot," says Mr Chambers, "till the
cannonade had continued nearly half an hour,
and the Highlanders had seen many of their
kindred stretched upon the heath, that Charles
at last gave way to the necessity of ordering a

OHABLBS EDWABD AT VERSAILLES. 211

charge. The aide-de-camp intrusted to carry his
message to the lieutenant-general — a youth of the
name of Maclachlan — ^was killed by a cannon-
ball before he reached the first line; but the
general sentiment of the army, as reported to
Lord Greorge Murray, supplied the want, and
that general took it upon him to order an attack
without Charles's permission having been com-
municated.

"Lord George had scarcely determined upon
ordering a general movement, when the Mac-
intoshes, a brave and devoted clan, though not
before engaged in action, unable any longer to
brook the unavenged slaughter made by the
camion, broke from the centre of the line, and
rushed forward through smoke and snow to mingle
with the enemy. The Athole men, Camerons,
Stuarts, Erasers, and Macleans, also went on;
Lord George Murray heading them with that rash
bravery befitting the commander of such forces.
Thus, in the course of one or two minutes, the
charge was general along the whole line, except

212 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIEllS.

at the left extremity, where the Macdonalds, dis-
satisfied with their position, hesitated to engage.
" The action and event of the onset were,
throughout, quite as dreadful as the mental
emotion which urged it. Notwithstanding that
the three files of the front line of English poured
forth their incessant fire of musketry — notwith-
standing that the cannon, now loaded with grape-
shot, swept the field as with a hail-storm — not-
withstanding the flank fire of Wolfe's regiment —
onward, onward went the headlong Highlanders,
flinging themselves into, rather than rushing up-
on, the lines of the enemy, which, indeed, they
did not see for smoke, till involved among the
weapons. All that courage, all that despair could
do, was done. It was a moment of dreadful and
agonising suspense, but only a moment — for the
whirlwind does not reap the forest with greater
rapidity than the Highlanders cleared the line.
Nevertheless almost every man in their front
rank, chief and gentleman, fell before the deadly
weapons which they had braved : and although

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 213

the enemy gave way, it was not till every bayonet
was bent and bloody with the strife.

"When the first line had thus been swept
aside, the assailants continued their impetuous
advance till they came near the second, when,
being almost annihilated by a profuse and well-
directed fire, the shattered remains of what had
been before a numerous and confident force began
to give way. Still a few rushed on, resolved
rather to die than forfeit their well-acquired and
dearly-estimated honour. They rushed on; but
not a man ever came in contact with the enemy.
The last survivor perished as he reached the
points of the bayonets."

Some idea of the determination displayed by
the Highlanders in this terrific charge may be
gathered from the fact that, in one part of the
field, their bodies were afterwards found in layers
of three and four deep. The slaughter was fear-
ful, for, out of the five regiments which charged
the English, almost all the leaders and men in
the front rank were killed. So shaken was the

214 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH OAYAUERS.

English line, that, had the Macdonald regiments,
well known to yield in valour to none of the
clans, come up, the fortune of the day might
have been altered. But they never made an on-
set. Smarting and sullen at the af&ont which
they conceived to have been put upon their name,
they bore the fire of the English regiments with-
out flinching, and gave way to their rage by hew-
ing at the heather with their swords. In vain
their chiefe exhorted them to go forward; even
at that terrible moment the pride of clanship
prevailed. " My God ! " cried Macdonald of Kep-
poch, " has it come to this, that the children of
my tribe have forsaken me ! " and he rushed for-
ward alone, sword in hand, with the devotion
of an ancient hero, and fell pierced with bullets.
The Lowland and foreign troops which formed
the second line were powerless to retrieve the
disaster. All was over. The rout became gene-
ral, and the Prince was forced from the field,
which he would not quit until dragged from it
by his immediate body-guard.

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 215

Such was the last battle, the resiilt of civil war,
which has been fought on British soil. Those
who were defeated have acquired as much glory
from it as the conquerors — and even more, for
never was a conquest sullied by such deeds of
deliberate cruelty as were perpetrated upon the
survivors of the battle of Culloden. It is not,
however, the object of the present paper to re-
count these, or even the romantic history and
hairbreadth escapes of the Prince, whilst wander-
ing on the mainland and through the Hebrides.
Although a reward of thirty thousand pounds
(an immense sum for the period) was set upon
his head — although his secret was known to
hundreds of persons in every walk of life, and
even to the beggar and the outlaw — ^not one at-
tempted to betray him. !N'ot one of all his fol-
lowers, in the midst of the misery which over-
took them, regretted having drawn the sword in
his cause, or would not again have gladly im-
perilled their Hves for the sake of their beloved
Chevalier. "He went," says Lord Mahon, "but

216 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

not with him departed his rememhrance from the
Highlanders. For years and years did his name
continue enshrined in their hearts and femiliar
to their tongues, their plaintive ditties resound-
ing with his exploits and inviting his return.
Again, in these strains, do they declare them-
selves ready to risk life and fortune for his
cause; and even maternal fondness — ^the strongest,
perhaps, of all human feelings — ^yields to the pas-
sionate devotion to Prince Charlie."

The subsequent life of the Prince is a story
of melancholy interest. We find him at first
received in France with all the honours due to
one who, though unfortunate, had exhibited a
heroism rarely equalled and never surpassed :
gradually he was neglected and slighted, as one
of a doomed and unhappy race, whom no human
exertion could avail to elevate to their former
seat of power; and finally, when his presence in
France became an obstacle to the conclusion of
peace, he was violently arrested and conveyed out
of the kingdom. There can be little doubt that

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 217

continued misfortune and disappointment had be-
gun very early to impair his noble mind. For
long periods he was a wanderer, lost sight of by
his friends, and even by his father and brother.
There are fragments of his writing extant which
show how poignantly he felt the cruelty of his
fortune. "De vivre et pas vivre est beaucoup
plus que de mourir ! " And again, writing to his
father's secretary, eight years after CuUoden, he
says : "I am grieved that our master should
think that my silence was either neglect or
want of duty; but, in reality, my situation is
such that I have nothing to say but impreca-
tions against the fatality of being bom in such
a detestable age." An unhappy and uncongenial
marriage tended stiU more to embitter his exist-
ence; and if at- last he yielded to frailties which
inevitably insure degradation, it must be remem-
bered that his lot had been one to which few
men have ever been exposed, and the magnitude
of his sufferings may fairly be admitted as some
palliation for his weakness.

218 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIBBS.

To the last, his heart was with Scotland. The
following anecdote was related by his brother,
Cardinal York, to Bishop Walker, the late Primus
of the Episcopal Church of Scotland: — "Mr
Greathead, a personal friend of Mr Fox, suc-
ceeded, when at Eome in 1782 or 1783, in
obtaining an interview with Charles Edward;
and, being alone with him for some time, studi-
ously led the conversation to his enterprise in
Scotland, and to the occurrences which succeeded
the failure of that attempt. The Prince mani-
fested some reluctance to enter upon these topics,
appearing at the same time to undergo so much
mental suffering, that his guest regretted the free-
dom he had used in calling up the remembrance
of his misfortunes. At length, however, the
Prince seemed to shake off the load which op-
pressed him ; his eye brightened, his fece assumed
imwonted animation, and he entered upon the
narrative of his Scottish campaigns with a dis-
tinct but somewhat vehement energy of manner
— recounted his marches, his battles, his victories,

OHABLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 219

his retreats, and his defeats — detailed his hair-
breadth escapes in the Western Isles, the inviol-
able and devoted attachment of his Highlan4
friends, and at length proceeded to allude to the
terrible penalties with which the chiefe among
them had been visited. But here the tide of
emotion rose too high to allow him to go on —
his voice faltered, his eyes became fixed, and he
fell convulsed on the floor. The noise brought in-
to his room his daughter, the Duchess of Albany,
who happened to be in an adjoining apartment.
*Sir,' she exclaimed, *what is this? You have
been speaking to my fstther about Scotland and
the Highlanders ! !N'o one dares to mention those
subjects in his presence.'"

He died on the 30th of January 1788, in the
arms of the Master of Nairn. The monument
erected to him, his father, and brother, in St
Peter's, by desire of George IV., was perhaps the
most graceful tribute ever paid by royalty to mis-
fortune — ^Ebgio Cineri Pietas Kegia.

CHARLES EDWARD

VERSAILLES

ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF CULLODEN

Take away that star and garter —

Hide them from my aching sight !
Neither king nor prince shall tempt me

From my lonely room this night.
Fitting for the throneless exile

Is the atmosphere of pall,
And the gusty winds that shiver

'IfTeath the tapestry on the wall ;

222 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

When the taper faintly dwindles

Like the pulse within the vein,
That to gay and merry measure

Ne'er may hope to hound again.
Let the shadows gather round me

While I sit in silence here,
Broken-hearted, as an orphan

Watching hy his father's hier.
Let me hold my still communion

Far from every earthly sound —
Day of penance — day of passion —
, Ever, as the year comes round :
Fatal day ! whereon the latest

Die was cast for me and mine —
Cruel day, that quelled the fortunes

Of the hapless Stuart line 1
Phantom-like, as in a mirror,

Kise the griesly scenes of Death —
There hefore me in its wildness,

Stretches hare Culloden's heath :
There the hroken clans are scattered,

Graimt as wolves, and femine-eyed.

CHARLES EDWABD AT VERSAILLES. 223

Hunger gnawing at their vitals,

Hope abandoned, all but pride —
Pride— -and that supreme devotion

Which the Southron never knew,
And the hatred, deeply rankling,

'Gainst the Hanoverian crew.
Oh, my God ! are these the remnants,

These the wrecks of the array.
That around the royal standard

(fathered on the glorious day.
When, in deep Glenfinnan's valley.

Thousands on their bended knees
Saw once more that stately ensign

Waving in the northern breeze !
When the noble Tullibardine

Stood beneath its weltering fold,
With the Ruddy lion ramping

In its field of tressured gold !
When the mighty heart of Scotland,

All too big to slumber more.
Burst in wrath and exultation

Like a huge volcano's roar !

224 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

There they stand, the battered columns,

Underneath the murky sky,
In the hush of desperation,

Not to conquer, "but to die.
Hark ! the "bagpipe's fitful wailing :

Not the pibroch loud and shrill,
That, with hope of bloody banquet,

Lured the ravens from the hill —
But a dirge both low and solemn.

Fit for ears of dying men.
Marshalled for their latest battle.

Never more to fight again. '
Madness — madness ! Why this shrinking ?

Were we less inured to war
"When our reapers swept the harvest

From the field of red Dunbar ?
Bring my horse, and blow the trumpet !

Call the riders of Fitz-James :
Let Lord Lewis head the column !

Valiant chiefs of mighty names —
Trusty Keppoch ! stout Glengarry !

Gallant Gordon ! wise Locheill !

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 225

Bid the clansmen hold together,

Fast and fell, and firm as steel.
Elcho ! never look so gloomy —

What avails a saddened brow ]
Heart, man ! heart ! — We need it sorely,

Never half so much as now.
Had we but a thousand troopers,

Had we but a thousand more !
Noble Perth, I hear them coming !

Hark ! the English cannons' roar.
God ! how awful sounds that volley,

Bellowing through the mist and rain !
Was not that the Highland slogan 1

Let me hear that shout again !
Oh, for prophet eyes to witness

How the desperate battle goes !
Cumberland ! I woidd not fear thee,

Could my Camerons see their foes.
Sound, I say, the charge at venture —

Tis not naked steel we fear :
Better perish in the meUe

Than be shot like driven deer !

226 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

Hold ! the mist begins to scatter !

There in front 'tis rent asunder,
And the cloudy "bastion crumbles

Underneath the deafening thunder.
There I see the scarlet gleaming !

Now, Macdonald, — now or never I —
Woe is me, the clans are broken !

Father, thou art lost for ever !
Chief and vassal, lord and yeoman.

There they lie in heaps together.
Smitten by the deadly volley,

Eolled in blood upon the heather ;
And the Hanoverian horsemen,

Fiercely riding to and fro.
Deal their murderous strokes at random.-

Ah, my God ! where am I now ?

Will that baleful vision never
Vanish from my aching sight ?

Must those scenes and sounds of terror
Haunt me still by day and night ?

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 227

Yea ! the earth hath no oblivion

For the nohlest chance it gave,
Xone, save in its latest refuge —

Seek it only in the grave !
Love may die, and hatred slumber,

And their memory will decay,
As the watered garden recks not

Of the drought of yesterday;
But the dream of power once broken.

What shall give repose again ?
What shall charm the serpent-furies

Coiled around the maddening brain ?
What kind draught can nature offer

Strong enough to lull their sting 1
Better to be bom a peasant

Than to live an exiled king !
Oh, these years of bitter anguish ! —

What is life to such as me.
With my very heart as palsied

As a wasted cripple's knee !
Suppliant-like for alms depending

On a false and foreign court ;

228 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

Jostled by the flouting nobles,

Half their pity, half their sport,
Forced to hold a place in pageant

Like a royal prize of war,
Walking with dejected features

Close behind his victor's car ;
Styled an equal— deemed a servant —

Fed with hopes of future gain :
Worse by far is fancied freedom

Than the captive's clanking chain !
Could I change this gilded bondage

Even for the dusky tower.
Whence King James beheld his lady

Sitting in the castle bower ;
Birds around her sweetly singing,

Fluttering on the kindled spray.
And the comely garden glowing

In the light of rosy May.
Love descended to the window —

Love removed the bolt and bar —
Love was warder to the lovers
From the dawn to even-star.

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 229

Wherefore, Love ! didst thou betray me 1

Where is now the tender glance —
Where the meaning looks once lavished

By the dark-eyed Maid of France ?
Where the words of hope she whispered,

When around my neck she threw
That same scarf of broidered tissue,

Bade me wear it and be true —
Bade me send it as a token

When my banner waved once more
On the castled Keep of London,

AVhere my father's waved before "?
And I went and did not conquer —

But I brought it back again-^
Brought it back from storm and battle —

Brought it back without a stain ;
And once more I knelt before her.

And I laid it at her feet.
Saying, "Wilt thou own it, Princess?

There at least is no defeat !"
Scornfully she looked upon me

With a measured eye and cold —

230 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

Scornfully she viewed the token.

Though her fingers wrought the gold ;
And she answered, faintly flushing,

" Hast thou kept it, then, so long ?
Worthy matter for a minstrel

To he told in knightly song I
Worthy of a hold Proven9al,

Pacing o'er the peaceful plain.
Singing of his lady's favour,

Boasting of her silken chain —
Yet scarce worthy of a warrior

Sent to wrestle for a crown !
Is this all that thou hast hrought me

From thy fields of high renown ?
Is this all the trophy carried

From the lands where thou hast heen ?
It was hroidered hy a Princess —

Canst thou give it to a Queen ? "

Woman's love is writ in water !
Woman's faith is traced on sand !-

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 231

Backwards — backwards let me wander

To the noble northern land :
Let me feel the breezes blowing

Fresh along the mountain-side !
Let me see the purple heather,

Let me hear the thundering tide,
Be it hoarse as Corrievreckan

Spouting when the storm is high —
Give me but one hour of Scotland —

Let me see it ere I die !
Oh ! my heart is sick and heavy —

Southern gales are not for me;
Though the glens are white with winter,

Place me there and set me free.
Give me back my trusty comrades —

Give me back my Highland maid —
Xowhere beats the heart so kindly
^ As beneath the tartan plaid !
Flora ! when thou wert beside me,

In the wilds of far Kintail —
When the cavern gave us shelter

From the blinding sleet and hail —

232 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVAUER8.

AVhen we lurked within the thicket,

And, beneath the waning moon,
Saw the sentry's bayonet glimmer.

Heard him chant his listless tune —
When the howling storm overtook us.

Drifting down the island^s lee.
And our crazy bark was whirling

Like a nutshell on the sea —
When the nights were dark and drean%

And amidst the fern we lay.
Faint and foodless, sore with travel,

Waiting for the streaks of day;
When thou wert an angel to me.

Watching my exhausted sleep —
'Never didst thou hear me murmur —

Couldst thou see how now I weep !
Bitter tears and sobs of anguish,
^ Unavailing though they be.
Oh ! the brave — the brave and noble —

That have died in vain for me !

NOTES TO "CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES."

" CovM I chatige this gilded bondage
Even for the dusky tower,
Whence King James beheld his lady
Sitting in the castle bower"— V. 228.

James I. of Scotland, one of the most accomplished kings
that ever sat upon a throne, is the person here indicated.
His history is a very strange and romantic one. He was
son of Robert III., and immediate younger brother of
that unhappy Duke of Rothesay who was murdered at
Falkland. His father, apprehensive of the designs and
treachery of Albany, had determined to remove him,
when a mere boy, for a season from Scotland ; and as
France was then considered the best school for the edu-
cation of one so important from his high position, it
was resolved to send him thither, under the care of the
Earl of Orkney, and Fleming of Cumbernauld. He ac-
cordingly embarked at North Berwick, with little escort
— as there was a truce for the time between England
and Scotland, and they were under no apprehension of
meeting with any vessels, save those of the former na-
tion. Notwithstanding this, the ship which carried the
Prince was captured by an armed merchantman, and
carried to London, where Henry IV., the usurping
Bolingbroke, utterly regardless of treaties, committed
him and his attendants to the Tower.

234 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVAUEBS.

'* In yain/' says Mr Tytler, ** did the gaaidiaiis of the
young Prince remonstrate against this cruelty, or present
to Henry a letter from the King his father, which, with
much simplicity, recommended him to the kindness of
the English monarch, should he find it necessary to land
in his dominions. In vain did they represent that the
mission to France was perfectly pacific, and its only object
the education of the Prince at the French Court. Henry
merely answered by a poor witticism, declaring that he
himself knew the French language indifferently well, and
that his father could not have sent him to a better master.
So flagrant a breach of the law of nations, as the seizure
and imprisonment of the heir-apparent, during the time
of truce, would have called for the most violent remon-
strances from any government except that of Albany.
But to this usurper of the supreme power, the capture of
the Prince was the most grateful event which could have
happened ; and to detain him in captivity became, from
this moment, one of the principal objects of his future
life : we are not to wonder, then, that the conduct of
Henry not only drew forth no indignation from the gov-
ernor, but was not even followed by any request that the
Prince should be set at liberty.

"The aged King, already worn out by infirmity, and
now broken by disappointment and sorrow, did not long
survive the captivity of his son. It is said the melan-
choly news were brought him as he was sitting down to
supper in his palace of Rothesay in Bute, and that the
effect was such upon his affectionate but feeble spirit, that
he drooped from that day forward, refused all sustenance,
and died soon after of a broken heart."

James was finally incarcerated in Windsor Castle, where

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 235

he endured an imprisonment of nineteen years. Henry,
though he had not hesitated to commit a heinous breach
of faith, was not so cruel as to neglect the education of his
captive. The young King was supplied with the best
masters, and gradually became an adept in all the accom-
plishments of the age. He is a singular exception from
the rule which maintains that monarchs are indifferent
authors. As a poet, he is entitled to a very high rank
indeed — ^being, I think, in point of sweetness and melody
of verse, not much inferior to Chaucer. From the win-
dow of his chamber in the Tower, he had often seen a
young lady, of great beauty and grace, walking in the
garden ; and the admiration which at once possessed him
soon ripened into love. This was Lady Jane Beaufort,
daughter of the Earl of Somerset, a niece of Henry IV.,
and who afterwards became his queen. How he loved
and how he wooed her is told in his own beautiful poem
of "The King's Quhair," of which the following are a
few stanzas : —

" Now there was made, fast by the towns wall,
A garden fair ; and in the corners set
An arbour green, with wandis long and small
Railed about, and so with trees set
Was all the place, and hawthorn hedges knet,
Thatlyf was none walking there forbye,
That might within scarce any wight espy.

" So thick tlie boughis and the leavis greene
Beshaded all the alleys that there were.
And mids of every arbour might be seen
Tlie sharpe, greene, sweete juniper,
Growing so fair, with branches here and there,
That, as it seemed to a lyf without,
The boughis spread the arbour all about.

236 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

* And on the smalle greene twistis ast
The little sweete ni^tingale, and song
So load and clear the hyiunis consecrat
Of lovis oae, now soft, now lond among.
That all the gardens and the walUs rang
Right of their song.

* And therewith east I down mine eyes again.
Whereat I saw, walking under the tower.
Full secretly, now comen here to plain.
The fairest or the freshest yonnge flower
That e'er I saw, methonght, before that hour :
For which sudden abate, anon astart

The blood of all my body to my heart

" And though I stood abasit for a lite.
No wonder was ; for why ? my wittis all
Were so overcome with pleasance and delight-
Only through letting of my eyen fall-—
That suddenly my heart became her thrall
For ever of free will, for of menace
There was no token in her sweete face.-'

" WhereforCy Love! didst thou betray Trie ?
WJwre is 'now the tender glance —
Where the meaning looks once lavished
By the dark eyed Maid of France V'—V. 229.

There appears to be no doubt that Prince Charles was
deeply attached to one of the princesses of the royal family
of France. In the interesting collection called "Jacobite
Memoira,*' compiled by Mr Chambers from the volumin-

CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 237

ous MSS. of Bishop Forbes, we find the following passage
from the narrative of Donald Macleod, who acted as a
guide to the wanderer whilst traversing the Hebrides :—
"When Donald was asked, if ever the Prince used to
give any particular toast, when they were taking a cup of
cold water, or the like ; he said that the Prince very often
drank to the Black Eye — by which, said Donald, he meant
the second daughter of France, and I never heard him
name any particular health but that alone. \\Tieu he
spoke of that lady — which he did frequently — ^lie appeared
to be more than ordinarily well pleased."

.-y

THE

OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER

The " gentle Locheill " may be considered as the ^
pattern of a Highland Chief. Others who joined
the insurrection may have been actuated by mo-
tives of personal ambition, and by a desire for
aggrandisement ; but no such charge can be made
against the generous and devoted Cameron. He
was, as we have already seen, the first who at-
tempted to dissuade the Prince from embarking
in an enterprise which he conscientiously believed
to be desperate; but, having failed in doing so,
he nobly stood firm to the cause which his con-
science vindicated as just, and cheerfully im-

240 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

perilled his life, and sacrificed his fortune, for
the sake of his master. There was no one, even
among those who espoused the other side, in Scot-
land, who did not commiserate the misfortunes of
this truly excellent man, whose humanity was not
less conspicuous than his valour throughout the
civil war, and who died in exile of a broken heart.
Perhaps the best type of the Lowland Cavalier
of that period may be found in the person of
Alexander Forbes, Lord Pitsligo, a nobleman
whose conscientious views impelled him to take
a different side from that adopted by the greater
part of his house and name. Lord Forbes, the
head of this very ancient and honourable fSamily,
was one of the first Scottish noblemen who de-
clared for King William. Lord Pitsligo, on the
contrary, who had been educated abroad, and
early introduced to the circle at St Germains,
conceived a deep personal attachment to the
members of the exiled line. He was anything
but an enthusiast, as his philosophical and reli-
gious writings, well worthy of a perusal, will

THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 241

show. He was the intimate fidend of F^n^lon,
and throughout his whole life was remarkable
rather for his piety and virtue than for keenness
in political dispute.

After his return from France, Lord Pitsligo
took his seat in the Scottish Parliament, and his
parliamentary career has thus been characterised
by a former writer.* " Here it is no discredit
either to his head or heart to say, that, obliged
to become a member of one of the contending
factions of the time, he adopted that which had
for its object the independence of Scotland, and
restoration of the ancient race of monarchs. The
advantages which were in future to arise from
the great measure of a national union were so
hidden by the mists of prejudice, that it cannot
be wondered at if Lord Pitsligo, like many a
high-spirited man, saw nothing but disgrace in a
measure forced on by such corrupt means, and
calling in its commencement for such mortifying

* See Blackwoodts Magazine for May 1829— Article,
"Lord Pitsligo."

Q

242 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

national sacrifices. The English nation, indeed,
with a naiTow, yet not unnatural view of their
own interest, took such pains to encumber and
restrict the Scottish commercial privileges, that it
was not till the best part of a century after the
event that the inestimable fruits of the treaty
began to be felt and known. This distant period
Lord Pitsligo could not foresee. He beheld his
countrymen, like the Israelites of yore, led into
the desert; but his merely human eye could not
foresee that, after the extinction of a whole race
— after a longer pilgrimage than that of the fol-
lowers of Moses — the Scottish people should at
length arrive at that promised land, of which
the favourers of the Union held forth so gay a
prospect.

"Looking upon the Act of Settlement of the
Crown, and the Act of Abjuration, as unlawful.
Lord Pitsligo retired to his house in the country,
and threw up attendance on Parliament. Upon
the death of Queen Anne, he joined himself
in arms with a general insurrection of the High-

THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 243

landers and Jacobites, headed by his friend and
relative the Earl of Mar.

"Mar, a versatile statesman and an able in-
triguer, had consulted his ambition rather than
his talents when 'he assumed the command of
such an enterprise. He sank beneath the far
superior genius of the Duke of Argyle ; and, after
the undecisive battle of Sheriffmuir, the confed-
eracy which he had formed, but was unable to
direct, dissolved like a snowball, and the nobles
concerned in it were fain to fly abroad. This exile
was Lord Pitsligo's fate for five or six years. Part
of the time he spent at the Court, if it can be
called so, of the old Chevalier de Saint George,
where existed all the petty feuds, chicanery, and
crooked intrigues which subsist in a real scene of
the same character, although the objects of the
ambition which prompts such acts had no exist-
ence. Men seemed to play at being courtiers in
that illusory Court, as children play at being
soldiers."

It would appear that Lord Pitsligo was not

244 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

attainted for his share in Mar's rebellion. He
returned to Scotland in 1720, and resided at his
castle in Aberdeenshire, not mingling in public
affairs, but gaining, through his charity, kindness,
and benevolence, the respect and affection of all
around him. He was sixty -seven years of age
when Charles Edward landed in Scotland. The
district in which the estates of Lord Pitsligo lay
was essentially Jacobite, and the young cavaliers
only waited for a fitting leader to take up arms
in the cause. According to Mr Home, his ex-
ample was decisive of the movement of his neigh-
bours : "So when he who was* so wise and pru-
dent declared his purpose of joining Charles, most
of the gentlemen in that part of the country who
favoured the Pretender's cause, put themselves
under his command, thinking they could not fol-
low a better or safer guide than Lord Pitsligo."
His Lordship's own account of the motives which
urged him on is peculiar : — " I was grown a little
old, and the fear of ridicule stuck to me pretty
much. I have mentioned the weightier considera-

THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 245

tions of a family, which would make the censure
still the greater, and set the more tongues a-going.
But we are pushed on, I know not how: I thought
— I weighed — and I weighed again. If there was
any enthusiasm in it, it was of the coldest kind ;
and there was as little remorse when the aflfair
miscarried, as there was eagerness at the begin-
ning."

The writer whom I have already quoted goes
on to say — "To those friends who recalled his
misfortunes of 1715, he replied gaily, * Did you
ever know me absent at the second day of a wed-
ding?* meaning, I suppose, that having once con-
tracted an engagement, he did not feel entitled to
quit it while the contest subsisted. Being invited
by the gentlemen of the district to put himself
at their head, and having surmounted his own
desires, he had made a farewell visit at a neigh-
bour's house, where a little boy, a child of the
family, brought out a stool to assist the old
nobleman in remounting his horse. *My little
fellow,' said Lord Pitsligo, *this is the severest

246 LAYS OF THE SOOTTISH CAVALIERS.

rebuke I have yet received, for presuming to go
on such an expedition.'

" The die was however cast, and Lord Pitsligo
went to meet his Mends at the rendezvous they
had appointed in Aberdeen. They formed a body
of well-anned cavahy, gentlemen and their ser-
vants, to the number of a hundred men. When
they were drawn up in readiness to commence the
expedition, the venerable nobleman their leader
moved to their front, lifted his hat, and, looking
up to heaven, pronounced, with a solemn voice,
the awful appeal, — *0 Lord, Thou knowest that
our cause is just ! * then added the signal for
departure — * March, gentlemen!'

" Lord Pitsligo, with his followers, found
Charles at Edinburgh, on 8th October 1745, a
few days after the Highlanders' victory at Pres-
ton. Their arrival was haUed with enthusiasm,
not only on account of the timely reinforcements,
but more especially from the high character of
their leader. Hamilton of Bangour, in an ani-
mated and eloquent eulogium upon Pitsligo,

THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 247

states that nothing could have fallen out more
fortunately for the Prince than his joining them
did — for it seemed as if religion, virtue, and jus-
tice were entering his camp, under the appearance
of this venerable old man ; and what would have
given sanction to a cause of the most dubious right^
could not fail to render sacred the very best."

Although so far advanced in years, he remained
in arms during the whole campaign, and was
treated with almost filial tenderness by the Prince.
After Culloden, he became, like many others, a
fugitive and an outlaw; but he succeeded, like
the Baron of Bradwardine, in finding a shelter
upon the skirts of his own estate. Disguised as
a mendicant, his secret was Mthfully kept by the
tenantry; and although it was more than sur-
mised by the soldiers that he was lurking some-
where in the neighbourhood, they never were
able to detect him. On one occasion he actually
guided a party to a cave on the sea-shore, amidst
the rough rocks of Buchan, where it was rumoured
that he was lying in concealment; and on an-

248 LAYS OP THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

other, when overtaken by his asthma, and utterly
unable to escape from an approaching patrol of
soldiers, he sat down by the wayside, and acted
his assumed character so well, that a good-natured
fellow not only gave him alms, but condoled with -
him on the violence of his complaint.

For ten years he remained concealed, but in
the mean time both title and estate were forfeited
by attainder. His last escape was so very re-
markable, that I may be pardoned for giving it
in the language of the author of his Memoirs.

"In March 1756, and of course long after all
apprehension of a search had ceased, information
having been given to the commanding officer at
Fraserburgh that Lord Pitsligo was at that mo-
ment at the house of Auchiries, it was acted upon
with so much promptness and secrecy that the
search must have proved successful but for a very
singular occurrence. Mrs Sophia Donaldson, a
lady who lived much with the family, repeatedly
dreamt, on that particular night, that the house
was surrounded by soldiers. Her mind became

THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 249

SO haunted with the idea, that she got out of bed,
and was walking through the room in hopes of
giving a different current to her thoughts before
she lay down again ; when, day beginning to
dawn, she accidentally looked out at the window
as she passed it in traversing the room, and was
astonished at actually observing the figures of sol-
diers among some trees near the house. So com-
pletely had all idea of a search been by that time
laid asleep, that she supposed they had come to
steal poultry — Jacobite poultry-yards affording a
safe object of pillage for the English soldiers in
those days. Mrs Sophia was proceeding to rouse
the servants, when her sister having awaked, and
inquiring what was the matter, and being told of
soldiers near the house, exclaimed in great alarm,
that she feared they wanted something more than
hens. She begged Mrs Sophia to look out at a
window on the other side of the house, when not
only were soldiers seen in that direction, but also
an officer giving instructions by signal, and fre-
quently putting his fingers to his lips, as if en-

250 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

joining silence. There was now no time to be
lost in rousing the family, and all the haste that
could be made was scarcely sufficient to hurry the
venerable man from his bed into a small recess,
behind the wainscot of an adjoining room, which
was concealed by a bed, in which a lady. Miss
Gordon of Towie, who was there on a visit, lay,
before the soldiers obtained admission. A most
minute search took place. The room in which
Lord Pitsligo was concealed did not escape. Miss
Gordon's bed was carefully examined, and she was
obliged to suffer the rude scrutiny of one of the
party, by feeling her chin, to ascertain that it was
not a man in a lady*s night-dress. Before the
soldiers had finished their examination in this
room, the confinement and anxiety increased Lord
Pitsligo's asthma so much, and his breathing be-
came so loud, that it cost Miss Gordon, lying in
bed, much and violent coughing, which she coun-
terfeited in order to prevent the high breathings
behind the wainscot from being heard. It may
be easily conceived what agony she would suffer.

THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 251

lest, by overdoing her part, she should increase
suspicion, and in fact lead to a discovery. The
ruse was fortunately successful. On the search
through the house being given over. Lord Pit-
sligo was hastily taken from his confined situa-
tion, and again .replaced in bed; and as soon as
he was able to speak, his accustomed kindness of
heart made liim say to his servant — * James, go
and see that these poor fellows get some break-
fast, and a drink of warm ale, for this is a cold
morning; they are only doing their duty, and
cannot bear me any ill-will.' When the family
were felicitating each other on his escape, he
pleasantly observed, — *A poor prize, had they
obtained it — an old dying man!'"

This was the last attempt made on the part
of Government to seize on the persons of any of
the surviving insurgents. Three years before, Dr
Archibald Cameron, a brother of Locheill, hav-
ing clandestinely revisited Scotland, was arrested,
tried, and executed for high treason at Tyburn.
The Government was generally blamed for this act

252 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

of severity, which was considered rather to have
been dictated by revenge than required for the
public safety. It is, however, probable that they
might have had secret information of certain
negotiations which were still conducted in the
Highlands by the agents of the Stuart fjEimily, and
that they considered it necessary, by one terrible
example, to overawe the insurrectionary spirit.
This I believe to have been the real motive of an
execution which otherwise could not have been
palliated; and, in the case of Lord Pitsligo, it is
quite possible that the zeal of a partisan may have
led him to take a step which would not have been
approved of by the Ministry. After the lapse of
so many years, and after so many scenes of judicial
bloodshed, the nation would have turned in dis-
gust from the spectacle of an old man, whose
private life was not only blameless, but exem-
plary, dragged to the scaffold, and forced to lay
down his head in expiation of a doubtful crime;
and this view derives corroboration from the fact
that, shortly afterwards. Lord Pitsligo was tacitly

THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 253

permitted to return to the society of his friends,
without further notice or persecution.

Dr King, the Principal of St Mary's Hall, Ox-
ford, has borne the following testimony to the
character of Lord Pitsligo : — "Whoever is so
happy, either from his natural disposition or his
good judgment, constantly to observe St Paul's
precept, *to speak evil of no one,' will certainly
acquire the love and esteem of the whole commu-
nity of which he is a member. But such a man
is the vara avis in terris ; and, among all my
acquaintance, I have known only one person to
whom I can with truth assign this character.
The person I mean is the present Lord Pitsligo of
Scotland, I not only never heard this gentleman
speak an ill word of any man living, but I always
observed him ready to defend any other person
who was ill spoken of in his company. If the
person accused were of his acquaintance, my Lord
Pitsligo would always find something good to say
of him as a counterpoise. If he were a stranger,
and quite unknown to him, my Lord would urge

264 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

in his defence the general corruption of manners,
and the frailties and infirmities of human nature.

" It is no wonder that such an excellent man,
who, besides, is a polite scholar, and has many-
other great and good qualities, should be univer-
sally admired and beloved — insomuch, that I per-
suade myself he has not one enemy in the world.
At least, to this general esteem and affection for
his person, his preservation must be owing; for
since his attainder he has never removed far from
his own house, protected by men of different prin-
ciples, and unsought for and unmolested by Gov-
ernment." To which eulogy it might be added,
by those who have the good fortune to know his re-
presentatives, that the virtues here acknowledged
seem hereditary in the family of Pitsligo.

The venerable old nobleman was permitted to
remain without molestation at the residence of his
son, during the latter years of an existence pro-
tracted to the extreme verge of human life. And
so, says the author of his Memoirs, "In this
happy frame of mind, — calm and full of hope, —

THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 255

the saintly man continued to the last, with his
reason unclouded, able to study his favourite
volume, enjoying the comforts of friendship, and
delighting in the consolations of religion, till he
gently * fell asleep in Jesus/ He died on the 21st
of December 1762, in the eighty-fifth year of his
age ; and to his surviving friends the recollection
of the misfortunes which had accompanied him
through his long life was painfully awakened even
in the closing scene of his mortal career — as his
son had the mortification to be indebted to a
stranger, now the proprietor of his ancient in-
heritance by purchase from the Crown, for per-
mission to lay his father's honoured remains in
the vault which contained the ashes of his family
for many generations."

Such a character as this is well worthy of re-
membrance; and Lord Pitsligo has just title to
be called the last of the old Scottish cavaliers. I
trust that, in adapting the words of the following
little ballad to a well-known English air, I have
committed no unpardonable larceny.

THE

OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER

I.

Come listen to another song,

Should make your heart beat high,
Bring crimson to your forehead,

And the lustre to your eye ; —
It is a song of olden time.

Of days long since gone by.
And of a baron stout and bold

As e'er wore sword on thigh !

Like a brave old Scottish cavalier,
All of the olden time 1

R

258 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS.

II.

He kept his castle in the north,

Hard by the thundering Spey;
And a thousand vassals dwelt around,

All of his kindred they.
And not a man of all that clan

Had ever ceased to pray
For the Eoyal race they loved so well,

Though exiled far away

From the steadfast Scottish cavaliers.
All of the olden time !

III.
His father drew the righteous sword

For Scotland and her claims.
Among the loyal gentlemen

And chie& of ancient names.
Who swore to fight or fall beneath

Xhe standard of King James,
And died at Killiecrankie Pass,
With the glory of the Graemes ;
Like a true old Scottish cavalier
AU of the olden time !

THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 259

IV.

He never owned the foreign rule,

No master he obeyed,
But kept his clan in peace at home,

From foray and from raid ;
And when they asked him for his oath,

He touched his glittering blade.
And pointed to his bonnet blue,

That bore the white cockade :
Like a leal old Scottish cavalier.
All of the oldln time !

V.

At length the news ran through the land —

The Prince had come again !
That night the fiery cross was sped

O'er mountain and through glen ;
And our old baron rose in might,

Like a lion from his den.
And rode away across the hills

To Charlie and his men,

With the valiant Scottish cavaliers.
All of the olden time !

260 LATS OF THE SCOTTISH CAYALIEBS.

He was the first that hent the knee

When the Standard waved abroad,
He was the first that changed the foe

On Preston's bloody sod ;
And ever, in the van of fight,

The foremost still he trod,
Until on bleak Culloden's heath,

He gave his sonl to God,

Like a good old Scottish cavalier,
All of the olden time !

VII.

Oh ! never shall we know again

A heart so stout and true —
The olden times have passed away.

And weary are the new :
The fair white rose has fetded

From the garden where it grew,
And no fond tears save those of heaven,

The glorious bed bedew

Of the last old Scottish cavalier,
All of the olden time !

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS

BLIND OLD MILTON

Place me once more, my daughter, where th^ sun
May shine upon my old and time-worn head,
For the last time, perchance. My race is run ;
And soon amidst the ever-silent dead
I must repose, it may he, half forgot.
Yes ! I have hroke the hard and hitter hread
For many a year, with those who trembled not
To buckle on their armour for the fight.
And set themselves against the tyrant's lot ;
And I have never bowed me to his might,
Nor knelt before him — ^for I bear within
My heart the sternest consciousness of right,

264 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

And thafc peipetnal hate of gilded sin

Which made me what I am; and though the stain

Of poverty be on me, yet I win

More honour by it than the blinded train

Who hug their willing servitude, and bow

Unto the weakest and the most piofEuie.

Therefore, with unencumbered soul I go

Eefore the footstool of my Maker, where

I hope to stand as undebased as now !

Child ! is the sun abroad ? I feel my hair
Borne up and wafted by the gentle wind,
I feel the odours that perfume the air.
And hear the rustUng of the leaves behind.
Within my heart I picture them, and then
I almost can forget that I am blind.
And old, and hated by my fellow-men.
Yet would I fain once more behold the grace
Of nature ere I die, and gaze again
Upoi^ her living and rejoicing face —
Fain would I see thy countenance, my child.

BLIND OLD MILTON. 265

My comforter ! I feel thy dear embrace —

I hear thy voice, so musical and mild,

The patient sole interpreter, by whom

So many years of sadness are beguiled ;

For it hath made my small and scanty room

Peopled with glowing visions of the past.

But I will calmly bend me to my doom,

And wait the hour which is approaching fast,

When triple light shall stream upon mine eyes,

And heaven itself be opened up at last

To him who dared foretell its mysteries.

I have had visions in this drear eclipse

Of outward consciousness, and clomb the skies.

Striving to utter with my earthly lips

What the diviner soul had half divined.

Even as the Saint in his Apocalypse

Who saw the inmost glory, where enshrined

Sat He who fashioned glory. This hath driven

All outward strife and tumult from my mind,

And humbled me, until I have. forgiven

My bitter enemies, and only seek

To find the straight and narrow path to heaven.

266 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

Yet I am weak — oh ! how entirely weak,
For one who may not love nor suffer more !
Sometimes unbidden tears will wet my cheek,
And my heart bound as keenly as of yore,
Eesponsiye to a voice, now hushed to rest,
Which made the beautiful Italian shore,
In all its pomp of summer vineyards drest,
An Eden and a Paradise to me.
Do the sweet breezes fix)m the balmy west
Still murmur through thy groves, Farthenope,
In search of odours from the orange bowers ?
Still, on thy slopes of verdure, does the bee
Cull her rare honey from the virgin flowers ?
And Philomel her plaintive chant prolong
'^eath skies more calm and more serene than ours,
Making the summer one perpetual song ?
Art thou the same as when in manhood's pride
I walked in joy thy grassy meads among,
With that fisiir youthful vision by my side.
In whose bright eyes I looked — ^and not in vain 1
O my adorfed angel ! O my bride !

BUND OLD MILTON. 267

Despite of years, and woe, and want, and pain,
My soul yearns back towards thee, and I seem
To wander with thee, hand in hand, again.
By the bright margin of that flowing stream.
I hear again thy voice, more silver-sweet
Than fancied music floating in a dream,
Possess my being ; £K)m a&r I greet
The waving of thy garments in the glade.
And the light rustling of thy fairy feet —
What time as one half eager, half a&aid.
Love's burning secret faltered on my tongue.
And tremulous looks and broken words betrayed
The secret of the heart from whence they sprung.
Ah me ! the earth that rendered thee to heaven
Gave up an angel beautiful and young,
Spotless and pure as snow when fi^shly driven ;
A bright Aurora for the starry sphere
Where all is love, and even life forgiven.
Bride of immortal beauty — ever dear !
Dost thou await me in thy blest abode !
While I, Tithonus-like, must linger here,
And count each step along the rugged road ;

268 MISGELLAXEOUS POEMS.

A phantom, tottering to a long-made grave,
And eager to lay down my weary load 1

I, who was fancy's lord, am fency's slave.
Like the low mnimnrs of the Indian shell
Ta*en from its coral bed heneath the wave,
Which, unforgetfiil of the ocean's swell.
Retains within its mystic um the hnm
Heard in the sea-grots where the Nereids dwell —
Old thoughts still haunt me — ^unawares they come
Between me and my rest, nor can I make
Those agid visitors of sorrow dumb.
Oh, yet awhile, my feeble soul, awake !
Nor wander back with sullen steps again;
For neither pleasant pastime canst thou take
In such a journey, nor endure the pain.
The phantoms of the past are dead for thee ;
So let them ever uninvoked remain.
And be thou calm, till death shall set thee free.
Thy flowers of hope expanded long ago.
Long since their blossoms withered on the tree :

BLIND OLD MILTON. 269

No second spring can come to make them blow,

But in the silent winter of the grave

They lie with blighted love and buried woe.

I did not waste the gifts which nature gave,
Nor slothful lay in the Circean bower ;
Nor did I yield myseK the willing slave
Of lust for pride, for riches, or for power.
No ! in my heart a nobler spirit dwelt ;
For constant was my faith in manhood's dower ;
Man — ^made in God's own image — and I felt
How of our own accord we courted shame,
Until to idols like ourselves we knelt.
And so renounced the great and glorious claim
Of freedom, our immortal heritage.
I saw how bigotry, with spiteful aim.
Smote at the searching eyesight of the sage ;
How Error stole behind the steps of Truth,
And cast delusion on the sacred page.
So, as a champion, even in early youth
I waged my battle with a purpose keen :

270 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

Nor feared the hand of terror, nor the tooth

Of serpent jealousy. And I have been

With starry Galileo in his cell —

That wise magician with the brow serene,

Who fathomed space ; and I have seen him tell

The wonders of the planetary sphere,

And trace the ramparts of heaven's citadel

On the cold flag-stones of his dungeon drear.

And I have walked with Hampden and with Vane —

Names once so gracious to an English ear — "

In days that never may return again.

My voice, though not the loudest, hath been heard

Whenever Freedom raised her cry of pain,

And the faint effort of the humble bard

Hath roused up thousands fifom their lethargy.

To speak in words of thunder. What reward

Was mine, or theirs ? It matters not ; for I

Am but a leaf cast on the whirling tide.

Without a hope or wish, except to die.

But truth, asserted once, must still abide,

Unquenchable, as are those fiery springs

Which day and night gush from the mountain-side,

BLIND OLD MILTON. 271

Perpetual meteors girt with lambent wings,
Which the wild tempest tosses to and firo,
But cannot conquer with the force it brings.

Yet I, who ever felt another's woe
More keenly than my own untold distress ;
I, who have battled with the common foe,
And broke for years the bread of bitterness ;
Who never yet abandoned or betrayed
The trust vouchsafed me, nor have ceased to bless,
Am left alone to wither in the shade,
A weak old man, deserted by his kind —
Whom none will comfort in his age, nor aid t

Oh, let me not repine ! A quiet mind.
Conscious and upright, needs no other stay;
Nor can I grieve for what I leave behind.
In the rich promise of eternal day.
Henceforth to me the world is dead and gone,
Its thorns unfelt, its roses cast away:

272 MISCELLANEOUB FOEXS.

And the old pilgrim, weaiy and alone,
Bowed down with travel, at his Mastei^s gate
Now sits, lus task of life-long labour done.
Thankful for rest, although it comes so late.
After sore journey through this world of sin,
In hope, and prayer, and wistfdlness to wait,
Until the door shall ope and let him in.

HERMOTIMUS

Hebmotihus, the hero of this balkd, was a philo-
sopher, or rather a prophet, of Clazomense, who
possessed the faculty, now claimed by the animal-
magnetists, of effecting a voluntary separation
between his soul and body; for the former could
wander to any part of the universe, and even hold
intercourse with supernatural beings, whilst the
senseless firame remained at home. Hermotimus,
however, was not insensible to the risk attendant
upon this disunion; since, before attempting any
of these aerial flights, he took the precaution to
warn his wife, lest, ere the return of lus soul, the
body should be rendered an unfit or useless recep-

274 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

tacle. This accident^ which he so much dieaded,
at length occnned; for the lady, wearied out by
a succession of tcances, each of longer duration
than the preceding, one day committed lus body
to the flames, and thus effectually put a stop to
such unconnubial conduct. He received divine
honours at Clazomenae, but must nevertheless re-
main as a terrible example and warning to all hus-
bands who carry their scientific or spiritual pursuits
so flEff as to n^lect their duty to their wives.

It is somewhat curious that Hermotimus is not
the only person (putting the disciples of Mesmer
and Dupotet altogether out of the question) who
has possessed this miraculous power. Another
and much later instance ia recorded by Dr
George Cheyne, in his work entitled The Eng-
lish Malady^ 07* a Treatise on Nervous Diseases, as
having come under his own observation; and as
this case is exactly similar to that of the Prophet,
it may amuse the reader to see how fax an ancient
fable may be illustrated, and in part explained,
by the records of modem science. Dr Cheyne's

HEBMOTIMUS. 275

patient was probably cataleptic ; but the worthy
physician must be allowed to tell his own story : —
"Colonel Townshend, a gentleman of honour
and integrity, had for. many years been afflicted
with a nephritic complaint. His illness increas-
ing, and lus strength decaying, he came fix)m
Bristol to Bath in a litter, in autumn, and lay at
the Bell Inn. Dr Baynard and I were called to
him, and attended him twice a- day; but his
vomitings continuing still incessant and obstinate
against all remedies, we despaired of his recovery.
While he was in this condition, he sent for us one
morning : we waited on him with Mr Skrine his
apothecary. We found his senses clear, and his
mind calm: his nurse and several servants were
about him. He told us he had sent for us to
give him an account of an odd sensation he had
for some time observed and felt in himself;
which was, that, by composing himself, he. could
die or expire when he pleased; and yet by an
effort, or somehow, he could come to life again,
which he had sometimes tried before he sent for

276 XIBCELLANBOnS FOEX8.

OS. We heazd this with snipiise ; bnt^ as it was
not to be accounted for npon common pmciples,
we could haidl j believe the fact as he related it^
much less give anj account of it, unless he should
please to make the experiment before us, which
we were unwilling he should do, lest, in lus weak
condition, he mi^t cany it too far. He continued
to talk very distinctly and sensibly above a quar-
ter of an hour about this surprising sensation, and
insisted 80 much on our seeing the trial made, that
we were at last forced to comply. We all three
felt his pulse first — ^it was distinct, though small
and thready, and his heart had its usual beating.
He composed himself on his back, and lay in a
still posture for some time : while I held his right
hand Dr Baynard laid his hand on his heart, and
Mr Skrine held a clean looking-glass to his mouth.
I found his pulse sink gradually, till at last I
could not find any by the most exact and nice
touch. Dr Baynard could not feel the least mo-
tion in his heart, nor Mr Skrine the least soil of
breath on the bright mirror he held to his mouth ;

HERMOTIMUS. 277

then each of us by turns examined his arm, heart,
and breath, but could not, by the nicest scrutiny,
discover the least symptom of life in him. We
reasoned a long time about this odd appearance
as well as we could, and all of us judging it inex-
plicable and unaccountable; and, finding he still
continued in that condition, we began to conclude
that he had indeed carried the experiment too
far; and at last were satisfied he was actually
dead, and were just ready to leave him. This
continued about half an hour. As we were go-
ing away, we observed some motion about the
body; and, upon examination, found his pulse
and the motion of his heart gradually returning.
He began to breathe gently and speak softly.
We were aU astonished to the last degree at this
unexpected change; and, after some further con-
versation with him, and among ourselves, went
away fully satisfied as to aU the particulars of
this fact, but confounded and puzzled, and not
able to form any rationsd scheme that might ac-
count for it."

HERMOTIMUS

" Wilt not lay thee down in quiet sliunLer?

Weary dost thou seem, and ill at rest ;
Sleep will bring thee dreams in starry number-
Let him come to thee and be thy guest.
Midnight now is past —
Husband 1 come at last —
Lay thy throbbing head upon my breast."

HEBHOTIHUS. 279

II.

" Weary am I, but my soul is waking ;

Fain I'd lay me gently by thy side,
But my spirit tben, its home forsaking,

Thro' the realms of space would wander wide —
Everything forgot,
What would be thy lot.
If I came not back to thee, my bride !

III.

** Music, like the lute of young Apollo,
Vibrates even now within mine ear ;
Soft and silver voices bid me follow —
Yet my soul is dull and will not hear.
Waking it will stay :
Let me watch till day —
Fainter will they come and disappear."

880 KaCELLASEOVS POEXS.

IV.

" Speak not thus to me, my own — my dearest !

These are bat the phantoms of thy hrain ;
Nothing can be&ll thee which thon fearest,
Thon shalt wake to lave and life again.
Were thy sleep thy last^
I would hold thee hst —
Thon shooldst striye against me, but in vain.

V.

" Eros will protect ns, and will hover,

Guardian-like, above thee all the night.
Jealous of thee, as of some fond lover
Chiding back the rosy-fingered light —
He will be thine aid :
Canst thou feel a&aid
When his torch above us bumeth bright ?

HERMOTIMUS. 281

VI.

" Lo 1 the cressets of tlie night axe waning,

Old Orion hastens from the sky ;
Only thou of all things art remaining
Unrefreshed by slumber — thou and I.
Sound and sense are still,
Even the distant rill
Murmurs fainter now, and languidly.

VII.

" Come and rest thee, husband ! " — and no longer

Could the young man that fond call resist :
Vaiiily was he warned, for love was stronger —
Warmly did he press her to his breast.
Warmly met she his ;
Kiss succeeded kiss,
Till their eyelids closed, with sleep oppressed.

282 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

VIII.

Soon Anrora left her early pillow,

And the heavens grew rosy-rich and rare ;
Laughed the dewy plain and glassy billow,
For the Golden God himself was there ;
And the vapour-screen
Eose the hills hetween,
Steaming up, like incense, in the air.

IX.

0*er her husband sat lone bending —

Marble-like and marble-hued he lay ;
Underneath her raven locks descending,
Paler seemed his face and ashen grey ;
And so white his brow.
White and cold as snow —
"Husband ! — Gods 1 his soul hath passed away !"

HEBMOTIMUS. 283

Eaise ye up the pile with gloomy shadow —

Heap it with the mournful cypress-hough 1 —
And they laLsed the pile upon the meadow,
And they heaped the mournful cypress too;
And they laid the dead
On his funeral bed,
And they kindled up the flames below.

XI.

Night again was come ; but oh, how lonely

To the mourner did that night appear !
Peace nor rest it brought, but sorrow only.
Vain repinings and unwonted fear.
Dimly burned the lamp —
Chill the air and damp^
And the winds without were moaning drear.

384 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

XII.

Hush ! a voice in solemn whispers speaking,

Breaks within the twilight of the room ;
And lone, loud and wildly shrieking,

Starts and gazes through the ghastly gloom.
Nothing sees she there —
AU is empty air.
All is empty as a rifled tomb.

XIIL

Once again the voice beside her sounded,

Low, and faint, and solemn was its tone —
" Nor by form nor shade am I surrounded.
Fleshly home and dwelling have I none.
They are passed away —
Woe is me ! to-day
Hath robbed me of myself, and made me lone.

HEBMOTIMUS. 285

XIV.

" Vainly were the words of parting spoken ;

Ever more must Cliaron turn from me.
Still my thread of life remains unbroken,
And unhroken ever it must be ;
Only they may rest
Whom the Fates' behest
From their mortal mansion setteth free.

XV.

" I have seen the robes of Hermes glisten —

Seen him wave afar his serpent wand ;
But to me the Herald would not listen —
When the dead swept by at his command,
!N'ot with that pale crew
Durst I venture too —
Ever shut for me the quiet land.

286 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

XVI.

" Day and night before tlie dreary portal,

Phantom-shapes, the guards of Hades, lie ;
None of heavenly kind, nor yet of mortal.
May unchallenged pass the warders by.
None that path may go,
K he cannot show
His drear passport to eternity.

XVII.

" Cruel was the spirit-power thou gavest—

Fatal, Apollo, was thy love !
Pythian ! Archer ! brightest God and bravest.
Hear, oh hear me from thy throne above !
Let me not, I pray,
Thus be cast away :
Plead for me, thy slave — plead to Jove !

HBRMOTIMUS. 287

XVIII.

" I have heard thee with the Muses singing-
Heard that full melodious voice of thine,
Silver-clear throughout the ether ringiug —
Seen thy locks in golden clusters shine ;
And thine eye so bright,
With its innate light,
Hath ere now been bent so low as mine.

" Hast thou lost the wish — the will — to cherish

Those who trusted in thy godlike power 1
Hyacinthus did not wholly perish !

Stfll he lives, the firstling of thy bower ;
Still he feels thy rays,
Fondly meets thy gaze,
Though but now the spirit of a flower.

288 lOSCKLLANBOUS POSMS.

XX.

'^ Hear me, Phoebus ! Hear me and deliver !

Lo ! the morning breakeUi from a&r —

God! thou comest bright and great as ever —

Night goes back before thy burning car ;

All her lamps are gone —

Lncifer alone

Lingers still for thee — ^the blessed star !

XXI.

" Hear me, Phoebus ! " — ^And therewith descended

Through the window-arch a glory-gleam,
ALL eflPulgent — and with music blended ;
For such solemn sounds arose as stream
From the Memnon-lyre,
When the morning fire
Gilds the giant's forehead with its beam.

HEBMOTIMUS. 289

XXII.

" Thou hast heard thy servant's prayer, Apollo !

Thou dost call me, mighty God of Day !
Fare-thee-well, lone ! " — And more hollow
Came the phantom voice, then died away.
When the slaves arose,
Not in calm repose —
Not in sleep, hut death, their mistress lay.

(ENONE

On the holy mount of Ida^

Where the pme and cypress grow,
Sate a young and lovely woman,

Weeping ever, weeping low.
Drearily throughout the forest

Did the winds of autumn hlow,
And the clouds above were flying,

And Scamander rolled below.

" Faithless Paris ! cruel Paris ! "
Thus the poor deserted spake —

" Wherefore thus so strangely leave me?
Why thy loving bride forsake ?

(ENONE. 391

Why no tender word at parting —

Why no kiss, no farewell take ?
Would that I could but forget thee !

Would this throbbing heart might break !

" Is my face no longer blooming 1

Are my eyes no longer bright ?
Ah ! my tears have made them dimmer,

And my cheeks are pale and white.
I have wept since early morning,

I shall weep the livelong night ;
Now I long for sullen darkness,

As I once have longed for light.

" Paris ! canst thou then be cruel !

Fair, and young, and brave thou art —
Can it be that in thy bosom

Lies so cold, so hard a heart ?
Children were we bred together —

She who bore me suckled thee ;
I have been thine old companion.

When thou hadst no more but me.

292 lOSCELLANEOUS POEMS.

^' I have watched thee in thj slombeTs,

"Wlien the shadow of a dream
Passed across thj smiling featoies,

like the ripple on a stream ;
And so sweetly were the visions

Pictured there with lively grace,
That I half could read their import .

By the changes on thy fece.

*• When I sang of Ariadne,

Sang the old and mournful tale,
How her faithless lover, Theseus,

Left her to lament and wail ;
Then thine eyes would fill and glisten,

Her complaint could soften thee :
Thou hast wept for Ariadne —

Theseus' self might weep for me !

" Thou may'st find another maiden
"With a fairer face than mine —

With a gayer voice and sweeter,
And a spirit liker thine :

(ENOKE. 293

Por if e'er my beauty "bound thee,

Lost and broken is the spell ;
But thou canst not find another

That will love thee half so well.

" thou hollow ship, that bearest

Paris o'er the faithless deep !
Wouldst thou leave him on some island

Where alone the waters weep ;
Where no human foot is moulded

In the wet and yellow sand —
Leave him there, thou hollow vessel !

Leave him on that lonely strand 1

" Then his heart will surely soften.

When his foolish hopes decay,
And his older love rekindle,

As the new one dies away.
Visionary hills will haunt him,

Eising from the glassy sea.
And his thoughts will wander homeward

Unto Ida and to me.

294 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

'' ! that like a little swallow

I could reacli that lonely spot !
All Ms errors woald he pardoned,

All the weary past forgot.
Never should he wander from me —

Never should he more depart ;
For these arms would he his prison,

And has home would he my heart!"

Thus lamented £Eur (Enone,

"Weeping ever, weeping low.
On the holy Mount of Ida,

Where the pine and cypress grow.
In the self-same hour Cassandra

Shrieked her prophecy of woe,
And into the Spartan dwelling

Did the faithless Paris go.

THE BURIED FLOWER

I.

In the silence of my chamber,
When the night is still and deep,

And the drowsy heave of ocean
Matters in its charmM sleep,

II.
Oft I hear the angel voices

That have thrilled me long ago, —
Voices of iny lost companions,

Lying deep beneath the snow.

296 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

III.

O, the garden I lemem'ber,
In the gay and sunny spring,

When our laughter made the thickets
And the arching alleys ring !

IV.

O the merry hurst of gladness !

the soft and tender tone !
O the whisper never uttered

Save to one fond ear alone !

V.

the light of life that sparkled
In those bright and bounteous eyes !

O the blush of happy beauty,
Tell-tale of the heart's surprise I

VI.

O the radiant light that girdled
Field and forest, land and sea,

When we all were young together,
And the earth was new to me !

THE BURIED PLOWEB. 297

VII.

Where are now the flowers we tended ?

Withered, broken, branch and stem ;
Where are now the hopes we cherished ?

Scattered to the winds with them.

VIII.

For ye, too, were flowers, ye dear ones !

Nursed in hope and reared in love,
Looking fondly ever upward

To the clear blue heaven above :

IX.

Smiling on the sun that cheered us,

Rising lightly from the rain,
]N"ever folding up your freshness

Save to give it forth again :

X.

N^ever shaken, save by accents
From a tongue that was not free.

As the modest blossom trembles
At the wooing of the bee.

tS9 HJSCELLANEOUS POEMB.

XK

O ! 'tiB sad to lie and reckon
All the days of fisuled youth.

All the vows that we believed in,
All the words we spoke in troth.

XII.

Severed — ^were it severed only
By an idle thought of strife.

Such as time may knit together ;
Kot the broken chord of life !

XIII.

O my heart ! that once so truly
Kept another's time and tune ;

Heart, that kindled in the morning,
Look Around thee in the noon !

XIV.

Where are they who gave the impulse

To thy earliest thought and flow?
Look across the ruined garden —
All are withered, dropped, or low !

THE BURIED FLOWER. S9D

JCV.

Seek the birthplace of the Lily,

Dearer to the boyish dream
Than the golden cups of Eden,

Floating on its slumberous stream ;

XVI.

Never more shalt thou behold her —

She, the noblest, fairest, best :
She that rose in fullest beauty,

Like a queen, above the rest.

XVII.

Only still I keep her image

As a thought that cannot die ;
He who raised the shade of Helen

Had no greater power than L

XVIII.

! I fling my spirit backward.

And I pass o'er years of pain ;
All I loved is rising round me,

All the lost returns again.

300 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

XIX.

Blow, for ever blow, ye breezes,

Warmly as ye did before !
Bloom again, ye bappy gardens,

Witb the radiant tints of yore !

XX.

Warble out in spray and thicket.

All ye choristers unseen ;
Let the leafy woodland echo

With an anthem to its queen !

XXI.

Lo ! she Cometh in her beauty,

Stately with a Juno grace,
Raven locks, Madonna-braided

O'er her sweet and blushing fece :

XXII.

Eyes of deepest violet, beaming

With the love that knows not shame —

Lips, that thrill my inmost being.
With the utterance of a name.

THE BURIED FLOWER. 301

XXIIT.

And I bend the knee before her,

As a captive ought to bow, —
Pray thee, listen to my pleading,

Sovereign of my soul art thou I

XXIV.

my dear and gentle lady !

Let me show thee all my pain,
Ere the words that late were prisoned

Sink into my heart again.

XXV.

Love, they say, is very fearful

Ere its curtain be withdrawn,
Trembling at the thought of error

As the shadows scare the fawn.

XXVI.

Love hath bound me to thee, lady !

Since the well-remembered day
When I first beheld thee coining

Li the light of lustrous May.

30S inSCELLANEOUS FOEMS.

XXVII.

Not a word I dared to utter —
More than he who, long ago,

Saw the heavenly shapes descending
Over Ida's slopes of snow ;

XXVIII.

When a low and solemn music

Floated through the listening grove,

And the throstle's song was silenced,
And the doling of the dove :

XXIX.

When immortal beauty opened
All its charms to mortal sight,

And the awe of worship blended
With the throbbing of delight,

XXX.

As the shepherd stood before them
Trembling in the Phrygian dell,

Even so my soul and being
Owned the magic of the spell ;

THE Bimtm) FLOWER. 303

X.XXI.

And I watched thee ever fondly,
Watched thee, dearest ! from afar,

With the mute and humble homage
Of the Indian to a star.

XXXII.

Thou wert stiU the lady Flora

In her morning garb of bloom ;
Where thou wert was light and glory.

Where thou -wert not, dearth and gloom.

XXXIIJ.

So for many a day I followed.

For a long and weary while.
Ere my heart rose up to bless thee

For the yielding of a smile, —

XXXIV.

Ere thy words were few and broken

As they answered back to mine.
Ere my lips had power to thank thee

For the gift vouchsafed by thine.

304 MISCELLANEOUS FOEMS.

XXXV.

Then a mighty gosh of passioa
Through my inmost being ran ;

Then my older life was ended,
And a dearer course began.

XXXVT.

Dearer ! — O ! I cannot tell thee
What a load was swept away,

What a world of doubt and darkness
Faded in the dawning day !

XXXVII.

All my error, all my weakness,
All my vain delusions fled ;

Hope again revived, and gladness
Waved its wings above my head.

XXXVIII.

Like the wanderer of the desert,
When, across the dreary sand,

Breathes the perfume from the thickets
bordering on the promised land :

THE BURIED FLOWER. 305

XXXIX.

When ahx he sees the palm-trees

Cresting o'er the lonely well,
When he hears the pleasant tinkle

Of the distant earners bell :

XL.

So a fresh and glad emotion

Eose within my swelling breast,
And I hurried swiftly onwards

To the haven of my rest.

XLL

Thou wert there with word and welcome,
With thy smile so purely sweet ;

And I laid my heart before thee.
Laid it, darling ! at thy feet.

XLIL

O ye words that sound so bollow

As I now recall your tone !
What are ye but empty echoes

Of a passion crushed and gone ?

30e HIBCELLAKB0U8 FOEMS.

XLIII.

Wheiefoie should I seek to kindle
Light) when all around is gloom)

\Vherefoie should I raise a phantom
O'er the dark and silent tomh?

XL IV.

Early wert thou taken, Mary !

In thy £ur and glorious prime,
Ere the hees had ceased to murmur

Through the umbrage of the lime.

XLV,

Buds were blowing, waters flowing,
Birds were singing on the tree.

Everything was bright and glowing.
When the angels came for thee.

XLVI.

Death had laid aside his terror.
And helfound thee calm and mild.

Lying in thy robes of whiteness.
Like a pure and stainless child.

THE BURIED FLOWBB. 307

XLTII.

Hardly had the niountain-violet
Spread its blossoms on the sod,

Ere they laid the turf above thee,
And thy spirit rose to Grod.

XLVIII.

Early wert thou taken, Mary !

And I know *tis vain to weep —
Tears of mine can never wake thee

From thy sad and silent sleep.

XLIX.

away ! my thoughts are earthward !

'Not asleep, my love, art thou !
Dwelling in the land of glory

"With the saints and angels now.

L.

Brighter, fSairer far than living,

"With no trace of woe or pain,
Robed in everlasting beauty.

Shall I see thee once again.

\

30$ wwmiATBDca

Bj tLe li^ thit nerer ^dcdu

When the dajm of HKnzieedon
Breaks o*er dfathlfas Pisadise.

THE OLD CAMP

WRITTEN
IN A ROMAN FORTIFICATION IN BAVARIA

There is a cloud before the sun,

The wind is hushed and still,
And silently the waters run

Beneath the somhre hill.
The sky is dark in every place

As is the earth helow :
Methinks it wore the self-same face

Two thousand years ago.

310 nSCKLLAXBOCS tOEXB.

II.

No light IS on the ancieiit wbH^

Xo light apon the mound ;
The yeiy trees, so thick and tall.

Cast gloom, not shade, aiound.
So silent is the place and cold.

So fsLT from human ken.
It hath a look that makes me old.

And spectres time again.

III.

I listen, half in thought to hear

The Eoman trumpet blow —
I search for glint of helm and spear

Amidst the forest bough ;
And armour rings, and voices swell-

I hear the legion's tramp,
And mark the lonely sentinel

Who guards the lonely camp.

THE OLD CAMP. 311

IV.

Methinks I have no other home,

No other hearth to find ;
For nothing save the thought of Eome

Is stirring in my mind.
And all that I have heard or dreamed.

And all I had forgot,
Are rising up, as though they seemed

The household of the spot.

And all the names that Eomans knew

Seem just as known to me,
As if I were a Eoman too—

A Eoman bom and free :
And I could rise at Csesar*s name,

As though it were a charm
To draw sharp lightning fix)m the tame,

And brace the coward's aim.

31S

TI.

And ret if yonder skj were bine,

And earth were snnnj gar.
If nature wore the witching hne

That decked her yesterday —
The mound, the trench, the lampart^s space

Would moYe me nothing more
Than many a sweet sequestered place

That I hare marked before.

TII.

I could not feel the breezes bring

Eich odours from the trees,
I could not hear the linnets sing,

And think on themes like these.
The painted insects as they pass

In swift and motley strife,
The very lizard in the grass,

Would scare me back to life.

THE OLD CAMP. 313

VIII,

Then is the past so gloomy now

That it may never hear
The open smile of nature's brow,

Or meet the sunny air 1
I know not that — but joy is power,

However short it last;
And joy befits the present hour,

If sadness fits the past.

DANUBE

AND

THE EUXINE

1848

" Danube, Danube ! wherefore com'st thou

Ked and raging to my caves ?
Wherefore leap thy swollen waters

Madly through the broken waves ?
Wherefore is thy tide so sullied

With a hue unknown to me ;
Wherefore dost thou bring pollution

To the old and sacred seal"

DANUBE AND THE EUXINE. 315

" Ha ! rejoice, old Father Euxine !

I am brinmiing full and red ;
Glorious tokens do I bring thee

From my distant channel-bed.
I have been a Christian river

DuU and slow this many a year,
Eolling down my torpid waters

Through a silence mome and drear ;
Have not felt the tread of armies

Trampling on my reedy shore ;
Have not heard the trumpet calling,

Or the cannon's echoing roar ;
Only listened to the laughter

From the village and the town,
And the church-bells, ever jangling,

Afl the weary day went down.
So I lay and sorely pondered

On the days long since gone by.
When my old primaeval forests

Echoed to the wai^man's cry ;
When the race of Thor and Odin

Held their battles by my side.

316 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

And the blood of man was mingling

Warmly with my chilly tide.
Father Euxine ! thou rememb'rest

How I brought thee tribute then —
Swollen corpses, gashed and gory,

Heads and limbs of slaughtered men ?
Father Euxine ! be thou joyful !

I am running red once more —
'Not with heathen blood, as early,

But with gallant Christian gore !
For the old times are returning,

And the Cross is broken down.
And I hear the tocsin sounding

In the village and the town :
And the glare of burning cities

Soon shall light me on my way —
Ha ! my heart is big and jocund

"With the draught I drank to-day.
Ha ! I feel my strength awakened,

And my brethren shout to me ;
Each is leaping red and joyous

To his own awaiting sea.

DANUBE AND THE BUXINE. 317

Ehine and Elbe are plunging downward

Through their wild anarchic land,
Everywhere are Christians falling

By their brother Christians' hand !
Yea, the old times are returning,

And the olden gods are here I
Take my tribute. Father Euxine,

To thy waters dark and drear I
Therefore come I with my torrents,

Shaking castle, cra^, and town ;
Therefore, with my arms uplifted,

Sweep I herd and herdsman down ;
Therefore leap I to thy bosom

With a loud triumphal roar —
Greet me, greet me. Father Euxine —

I am Christian stream no more !"

THE SCHEIE OF SINAI

1830

FROM THB OBBMAN OF FRBILIGRATH

" Lift me without the tent, I say, —

Me and my ottoman, —
111 see the messenger myself !
It is the caravan

From Africa, thou sayest,

And they bring us news of war?

THE 8CHEIK OF SIKAI. SIO^

Draw me without the tent, and quick !

As at the desert-well
The freshness of the bubbling stream
Delights the tired gazelle,

So pant I for the voice of him
That Cometh from afar !"

II.

The Scheik was lifted from his tent,
And thus outspake the Moor : —
" I saw, old Chief, the Tricolor
On Algiers' topmost tower — •.
Upon its battlements the silks
Of Lyons flutter free.
Each morning, in the inarket-place.

The muster-drum is beat,
And to the war-hymn of Marseilles
The squadrons pace the street.

The armament from Toulon sailed :
The Franks have crossed the sea.

320 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

III.

" Towards the south the columns marched

Beneath a cloudless sky :
Their weapons glittered in the blaze
Of the sun of Barbary;

And with the dusty desert sand
Their horses' manes were white.
The wild marauding tribes dispersed

In terror of their lives ;
They fled unto the mountains

With their children and their wives,
And urged the clumsy dromedary
Up the Atlas' height.

IV.

" The Moors have ta'en their vantage-ground,

The volleys thunder fast —
The dark deflle is blazing
Like a heated oven-blast.

The Lion hears the strange turmoil,
And leaves his mangled prey —

THE 8GHEIK OF SINAI. 321

No place was that for him to feed —

And thick and loud the cries,
Feu ! Allah /—Allah f En avant I
In mingled discord rise :

The Franks have reached the summit ;
They have won the victory !

V.

" With bristling steel, upon the top

The victors take their stand ;
Beneath their feet, with all its towns,
They see the promised land —
From Tunis, even unto Fez,
From Atlas to the seas.
The cavaliers alight to gaze ;

And gaze full well they may,
Where countless minarets stand up
So solemnly and grey,

Amidst the dark-green masses
Of the flowering myrtle-trees.

322 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

VL

" The almond blossoms in the vale,

The aloe fix)m the rock
Throws out its long and prickly leaves,
Nor dreads the tempest's shock :
A hlessed land, I ween, is that.
Though luckless is its Bey.
** There lies the sea — ^beyond lies France !

Her banners in the air
Float proudly and triumphantly —
A salvo ! come, prepare !'

And loud and long the mountains rang
With that glad artillery."

VII.

" Tis they!" exclaimed the aged Scheik.

" IVe battled by their side —

I fought beneath the Pyramids !

That day of deathless pride —

Red as thy turban, Moor, that eve.
Was every creek in Nile !

THE SCHEIK OF SINAI. 323

But tell me" — and lie griped his hand —

" Their Sultaun ? Stranger, say, —
His form — his face — his gesture, man —
Thou saw'st him in the fray?

His eye — ^what wore he ?" But the Moor
Sought in his vest awhile.

VIII.

" Their Sultaun, Scheik, remains at home

Within his palace walls ;
He sends a Pasha in his stead
To brave the holts and balls.

He was not there. An Aga burst
For him through Atlas' hold.
Yet I can show thee somewhat too ;

A Frankish Cavalier
Told me his effigy was stamped
Upon this medal here —
He gave it me with others
For an Arab steed I sold."

324 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

IX.

The old man took the golden coin :

Gazed steadfastly awhile,
If that could be the Sultaun
Whom from the banks of Kile
He guided o'er the desert path ? —
Then sighed and thus spake he —
" 'Tis not his eye — 'tis not Ms brow —

Another face is there :
I never saw this man before —
His head is like a pear !

Take back thy medal, Moor — 'tis not
That which I thought to see."

EPITAPH

CONSTANTINE KANARIS

FROM THE GERMAN OF WILHELH HULLBB

I AM Constantine Kanaris.

I, who lie beneath this stone,
Twice into the air in thunder

Have the Turkish galleys blown.

In my bed I died — a Christian,
Hoping straight with Christ to be ;

Yet one earthly wish is buried
Deep within the grave with me —

326 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

That npon the open ocean,
Wlien the third Azmada came.

They and I had died together,
Whirled aloft on wings of flame.

Yet 'tis something i^t they've laid me
In a land without a stain :

Keep it thus, my GU)d and Saviour,
Till I rise from earth again !

THE REFUSAL

CHARON^

FROM THE ROMAIC

Why look the distant mountains
So gloomy and so drear?

Are rain-clouds passing o'er them,
Or is the tempest nearl

* According to the superstition of the modem Greeks,
Charon performs the function which their ancestors as-
signed to Hermes, of conducting the souls of the dead
to the other world.

328 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

No shadow of the tempest
Is there, nor wind nor rain —

Tis Charon that is passing by,
With all his gloomy train.

The young men march before him,

In all their strength and pride :
The tender little infants,

They totter by his side ;
The old men walk behind him,

And earnestly they pray —
Both young and old imploring him

To grant some brief delay.

" Charon ! halt, we pray thee.

By yonder little town,
Or near that sparkling fountain,

"Where the waters wimple down !
The old will drink and be refreshed.

The young the disc will fling.
And the tender little children

Pluck flowers beside the spring."

THE REFUSAL OF CHARON. 329

" I will not stay my journey,

Xor halt by any town, .
Xear any sparkling fountain.

Where the waters wimple down :
The mothers coming to the well

Would know the babes they bore ;
The wives would clasp their husbands,

]N'or could I part them more."

APPENDIX

APPENDIX

.>»

EXAMINATION OF THE STATEMENTS IN MR MACAULAY S
HISTORY OP ENGLAND, REGARDING JOHN GRAHAME
OP CLAVERHOUSB, VISCOUNT OP DUNDEE.

** JDiscarding modem historians, who in too many in-
stances do not seem to entertain the slightest scruple in
dealing with the vnem^jry of the dead.'*

Preface to Bubial-March of Dundee— P. 88.

Since the first edition of this volume was published,
Mr Macaulay's long-promised History of England has been
given to the public. "Without wishing in any way to de-
tract from the general merits of a work which has already
attained so great popularity, but, on the contrary, acknow-
ledging with gratitude the delight I have received from its
perusal, I must take the liberty of challenging its accuracy
with regard to many of the details referring to Scottish
events, more especially those connected with the proceed-
ings which were instituted against the Covenanters. With
the political conclusions drawn by the learned and accom-
plished author, I have of course nothing to do : these fall
within the sphere of private judgment ; and though I differ

334 APPENDIX.

from him very largely in his estimate both of men and
measures, I am not entitled to enter into such an argu-
ment But the facts set forth by an historian are public
property, and I shall now proceed to examine the charges
which Mr Macaulay has brought against Lord Dundee,
and the authorities upon which those charges have been
founded.

With reference to the proceedings in the west of Scot-
land, during the year 1685, Mr Macaulay says: "Those
shires in which the Covenanters were most numerous were
given up to the licence of the army. With the army was
mingled a militia, composed of the most violent and profli-
gate of those who called themselves Episcopalians. Pre-
eminent among the bands which oppressed and wasted these
unhappy districts were the di-agoons commanded by James
Graham of Claverhouse. The story ran that these wicked
men used in their revels to play at the torments of hell,
and to call each other by the names of devils and damned
souls. The chief of this Tophet on earth, a soldier of dis-
tinguished courage and professional skill, but rapacious
and profane, of violent temper and of obdurate heart, has
left a name which, wherever the Scottish race is settled on
the face of the globe, is mentioned with a peculiar energy
of hatred."

These are hard words : let us now see how they are jus-
tified. The name which has been left by ** the chief of this
Tophet on earth " is at all events not that which has been
set forth by Mr Macaulay in his History. There never was
any such person as Jwme^ Graham of Claverhouse. We
know indeed of one James Grahame who was conspicuous
in Scottish history, and his name has ere now been ex-
posed to as much calumny and vituperation as is still
lavished on his gallant relative ; but loyalists venerate
him as the great Marquess of Montrose. John Grahame
of Claverhouse we know also, and men speak of him as
the Viscount of Dundee. But of Mr Macaulay's James
Graham we know nothing ; neither has that name, as ap-

THE VISCOUNT OP DUNDEE. 335

plied to Claverhouse, a place in any accredited history save
his own.

It may appear trivial to insist upon a mistake, which,
however, has been perpetuated through several editions ;
but it is not without its importance. No man really familiar
with the history of Scotland could have committed such a
blunder ; he might just as well have talked of the good Sir
Joshua of Douglas, or of Tobias Randolph, Earl of Moray.
And, therefore, in repeated instances, when Scotland or
the Scots are mentioned, we find Mr Macaulay's assertions
at variance with the ordinary records of history. Take,
for example, his statement that "the Scottish people" had
"butchered their first James in his bedchamber," which
is just about as correct as if we were to say that the people
of France butchered Henry IV., because that monarch was
assassinated by Ravillac, or that the British nation ap-
proves of regicide because a maniac has fired at the Queen!
Surely Mr Macaulay, before exerting his rhetoric to blacken
the character of so eminent a personage as Lord Dundee,
might have taken the trouble to consult some record of the
peerage for his name.

Mr Macaulay is pleased to stigmatise Claverhouse by iising
the epithet ** rapacious." This is altogether a new charge,
and for it he has not vouchsafed the slighest authority.
Cruel, bloody, and profane are epithets with which we are
familiar ; writers on the Covenanting side have used them
over and over again ; and if the narratives upon which they
proceed, and which many of them conscientiously believe,
were authenticated, they are unquestionably justified in
doing so. But rapacity is, I repeat, a new charge. The
worst foe of Claverhouse never yet hinted that there was
anything mean or sordid in his disposition. No instance of
bribery can be alleged against him ; he levied no contribu-
tions ; and with every opportunity within his reach of amass-
ing a large fortune, he died in comparative poverty. I am
certain that no man really acquainted with Scottish history,
whatever be his political or traditional opinions, will gainsay

336 APPENDIX.

me in this ; and as this particular charge has been brought
forward without a shadow of authority to support it, I can
only express my regret that an author who can write so
well should be so reckless in the choice of his epithets.

The •* profanity" imputed to Claverhouse deserves a few
words. So far as I can discover, the charge is founded
upon certain expressions said to have been used by him
immediately after John Brown, the carrier of Priestfield,
was shot. If used, the charge is amply proven. I shall
presently have occasion to consider the historical vouchers
for this remarkable story, upon which so great stress has
been laid, and to state my grounds for maintaining that it
is utterly unworthy of credence. In the mean time, and as
to the general charge, I shall content myself by quoting the
words of a witness who was personally acquainted with
Dundee, and whose testimony is liable to no other excep-
tion, save what may be cast upon him in his capacity of a
gentleman and a Jacobite. ** His Lordship was so nice in
point of honour, and so true to his word, that he never
was known once to break it. From this exactness it was
that he once lost the opportunity of an easy victory over
Mackay in Strathspey, by dismissing Captain Forbes ; who,
meeting the two troopers sent by the Lord Kilsyth, not
only discovered that intelligence, but the neighbourhood of
the Highland army, as I have foi-merly related. This is
the only real error chargeable in his conduct, while he
commanded in this war. But this is the more excusable,
that it proceeded from a principle of religion, whereof he
was strictly observant ; for, besides family worship per-
formed regularly evening and morning at his house, he
retired to his closet at certain hours and employed himself
ii^ that duty. This I affirm upon the testimony of severals
that lived in his neighbourhood in Edinburgh, where his
office of Privy Councillor often obliged him to be ; and par-
ticularly from a Presbyterian lady who lived long in the
storey or house immediately below his Lordship's, and who
was otherwise so rigid in her opinions that she could not

THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 337

believe a good thing of any person of his persuasion, till
his conduct rectified her mistake."*

As for the general morality of the dragoons, I do not feel
myself called upon to prove that they were faultless pat-
terns of virtue. 1 shall not aver, as Mr Macaulay has done
of the Puritans, ''that in that singular camp, no riot was
heard, no drunkenness or gambling was seen." I believe
that austerity was never yet the prevailing characteristic
af any barrack, and I should be soriy to overstate my case
by random laudations even of the Scottish Life- Guards.
But when we are gravely told that these soldiers " used in
their revels to play at the torments of hell, and to call each
other by the names of devils and damned souls," one's curi-
osity is certainly excited. The pastime is fortunately not
a common one ; it was not recommended in the Book of
Sports, which gave such exceeding offence to the Puritans :
and the nomenclature alleged to be employed would imply
an intimate knowledge of Demonology far from usual with
the soldiery of that period. I look to Mr Macaulay's note
for his authority, and 1 find it appended in the shape of the
venerated name of Wodrow.

English readers can hardly be supposed to know what
manner of man this Wodrow was, whom, in preference to
any other chronicler, Mr Macaulay has thought fit to follow
with reference to that period of Scottish history. It may
therefore be proper, very shortly, to give a brief account of
his writings, style, notions, and credibility.

Robert Wodrow, minister at Eastwood, is tolerably well
known to Scottish antiquaries as the author of two works —
the History of the Chicrch of Scotland^ and the Analectay of
Materials for a History of Remarkable Providences^ mostly
relating to Scotch Ministers and Christians. He was born
in 1679, was consequently a mere child at the time of the
Revolution, and gave his Histoiy to the world in 1721.
That History, according to his own accoimt, was compiled

* Memoin of Sir Eroen Cameron o/ Locheill.
Y

338 APPENDIX.

partly from existing documents, and partly from the nar-
rative of persons who had orally communicated with the
author ; and a most extraordinary history it is, in eveiy
sense of the word.

Bom in a credulous age, Wodrow was endowed with a
power of credulity which altogether transcended bounds.
He has not unaptly been styled the Scottish Aubrey,
though Aubrey by the side of Wodrow would almost appear
a sceptic. The Romish miracles sink into insignificance
compared with those recorded by Mr Macaulay's pet autho-
rity. But for the numerous, though possibly unintentional
profanities, and the grossness of some of the anecdotes wliich
are scattered over its pages, the Analecta would be pleasant
reading. "We learn from Wodrow how Elizabeth Kennedy,
sister to Hugh Kennedy, Provost of Ayr, being extremely
ill of stone, declined submitting to a surgical operation, and
how the calculus was miraculously dissolved at the interces-
sion of a prayer-meeting assembled in her house. We read
of corpses sitting up in bed, announcing to the terrified
mourners the judgments of another world ; of Mr John
Campbell of Craigie, minister, who had an interview with
the devil — ^not, however, unprofitably, for he thereby escaped
eating a poisoned hen for supper ; of rats which were sent
as special warnings to the Reverend Mr David Williamson ;
of the ghost of a barber which appeared to the Reverend Mr
William Leslie ; of a gifted horse in Annandale, wliich could
cure the king's evil ; and of a thousand similar instances of
ludicrous superstition. These anecdotes are not confined to
private individuals— for persons of note and name are made
to figure in the pages of Wodrow. Take as an example the
following TTvorceau of history, gravely narrated of Archbishop
Sharpe : ** At another time. Archbishop Sharpe, presiding
in the Privy Council, was earnest to have Janet Douglas
brought before that board, accusing her of sorcery and
witchcraft. When she was brought, she vindicated her-
self of that alleged crime ; declaring, though she knew very
well who were witches, yet she was not one herself, for she

THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 339

was endeavouring to discover those secret hellish plots, and
to countermine the kingdom of darkness. The Archbishop
insisted she might be sent away to the King's plantations in
the West Indies. She only dropt one word to the Bishop :
— * My Lord,' says she, * who was you with in your closet
on Saturday night last, betwixt twelve and one o'clock ? *
upon which the Bishop changed his countenance, and
turned black and pale, and then no more was said. When
the Council rose up, the Duke of Rothes called Janet into
a room, and inquired at her privately *who that person was
that was with the Bishop ? ' She refused at first ; but he
promising upon his word of honour to warrant her at all
hands, and that she should not be sent to America, she
says, * My Lord, it was the meikle black devil ! ' "

This is in reality a mild specimen of Wodrow ; but it
may suffice to show the mental constitution of the man.
Against his fairness I shall make no charge, though Mr
Kirkpatrick Sharpe, in his notes appended to Kirkton's
History, has, I think, incontestably shown, from Wodrow's
existing manuscripts, that he purposely garbled, or at least
omitted to quote, such parts of the correspondence of the
Archbishop of St Andrews as would have effectually refuted
some of the calumnies then current against that unfortu-
nate prelate. At present, I merely look to Wodrow as Mr
Macaulay's informant ; and I find, on referring to the His-
tory, that the following passage is founded on. ** Dread-
ful," says Wodrow, "were the acts of wickedness done by
the soldiers at tliis time, and Lagg was as deep as any.
They used to take to themselves in their cabals the names
of devils, and persons they supposed to be in hell, and
with whips to lash one another as a jest upon hell. But I
shall draw a veil over many of their dreadful impieties I
meet with in papers written at this time ! " It is hardly
worth while to remark that this passage does not, in the
slightest degree, refer to the troops under the command of
Claverhouse, but to the militia or local force which was
raised by Grierson of Lagg. This story is specially told of

340 APPENDIX.

Grierson by Howie in Biographia Scoticana — a work to
which I allude simply for the purpose of showing against
whom the legend was directed. For any authentic histori-
cal information we shall search that Apocrypha in vain.
So much for Mr Macaulay's accuracy in applying the mate-
rials of his veracious authority ; but surely the absurdity of
such stuff renders refutation unnecessary? Mr Macaulay,
however, goes beyond Wodrow, even in minuteness, for in
a subsequent paragraph he particularises the very names
which were used, as those of Beelzebub and Apollyon ! He
might with equal propriety have adopted the phraseology
of Ancient Pistol, and gi*avely informed us that the Scottish
mode of military accost was, " How now, Mephostophilus? "
"We next arrive at the story of John Brown, which I
am particularly anxious to expiscate. This tale is usually
brought forward as the crowning instance of the cruelty of
Claverhouse ; it has repeatedly formed the subject of ro-
mance and illustration ; and authors of no mean power
have vied with each other in heightening the horror of its
details. Some of the grosser fables regarding that dis-
turbed period have lost their hold of the popular belief —
for exaggeration may sometimes be carried so far as entirely
to neutralise its purpose. But the Priestfield tragedy is still
an article of the peasant's creed ; and, as it has hitherto
been allowed to pass without examination, it has furnished
an overwhelming reply to those who deny the authenticity
of the mass of Covenanting tradition. I am not ashamed
to own that I have a deep regard for the memory of Lord
Dundee — a regard founded on a firm belief in his public
and private virtues, his high and chivalrous honour, and
his unshaken loyalty to his sovereign. But those feelings,
however strong, would never lead me to vindicate an action
of wanton and barbarous cruelty, or even attempt to. lessen
the stigma by a frivolous or dishonest excuse. No cause
was ever effectually served by mean evasion, any more than
it can be promoted by unblushing exaggeration or by gross
perversion of facts. The charge has been distinctly made.

THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 341

and I now propose to examine the authority upon which it
is founded, as gravely and minutely as though it concerned
the character of the living, and not merely the memory of
the dead. Mr Macaulay shall speak for himself: —

" John Brown, a poor carrier of Lanarkshire, was, for
his singular piety, commonly called the Christian Carrier,
Many yeara later, when Scotland enjoyed rest, prosperity,
and religious freedom, old men, who remembered the evil
days, described him as one versed in divine things, blame-
less in life, and so peaceable that the tyrants could find no
offence in him, except that he absented himself fi'om the
public worship of the Episcopalians. On the first of May
he was cutting turf, when he was seized by Claverhouse's
dragoons, rapidly examined, convicted of non-conformity,
and sentenced to death. It is said that even among the
soldiers it was not easy to find an executioner, for the wife
of the poor man was present. She led one little child by
the hand ; it was easy to see that she was about to give birth
to another ; and even those wild and hard-hearted men, who
nicknamed one another Beelzebub and Apollyon, shrank
from the great wickedness of butclieiing her husband before
her face. The prisoner meanwhile, raised above himself by
the near prospect of eternity, prayed loud and fervently as
one inspired, till Claverhouse, in a fury, shot him dead. It
was reported by credible witnesses, that the widow cried out
in her agony — * Well, sir, well ; the day of reckoning will
come;' and that the murderer replied — * To man I can
answer for what I have done ; and as for God, I will take
Him into my own hand. ' Yet it was rumoured that even
on his seared conscience and adamantine heart the dying
ejaculations of his victim made an impression that never
was efiaced."

Such is Mr Macaulay's statement — ^well- written, simple,
and affecting. Wodrow is the sole authority upon which
he founds his narrative, and it is fair to say that he has de-
viated but slightly from that chronicle except in one mate-
rial point. Wodrow does not pro/ess to specify upon what

342 APPENDIX.

charge Brovm was examined and condemned. When Mr
Macaulay says that he was ** convicted of non-conform-
ity," he speaks without any text; and I shall presently
have occasion to show that his assumption is radically
wrong. But, as he substantially adopts the tale of Wod-
row, it is necessary to go back to that writer's sources of
information.

The execution of John Brown is said to have taken place
on the 1st May 1685. The Kevolution occurred in 1688 ;
and Lord Dundee fell at Killiecrankie on the 27th July
1689. Wodrow's History was first published in 1721,
exactly thirty-six years after the alleged murder.

These dates are of the utmost importance in considering
a matter of this kind. The Episcopalian party, which ad-
hered to the caiise of King James, was driven from power
at the Revolution, and the Episcopal Church proscribed.
No mercy was shown to opponents in the literary war
which followed : every species of invective and vituperation
was lavished upon the supporters of the fallen dynasty. Yet,
for thirty'three years after the Revolution, the details of
this atrocious murder were never revealed to the public! No-
where in print or pamphlet, memoir, history, or declara-
tion, published previously to Wodrow, does even the name
of John Brown occur, save once, in the Cloud of WitneJsses
—a work which appeared in 1714; and in that work no
details are given, the narrative being comprehended in a
couple of lines. I have searched for it amidst all the re-
cords of the so-called martyrology, but cannot find a trace
of it elsewhere, until the Reverend Robert Wodrow thought
fit to place the tale, with all its circumstantiality, in his
History. How, then, came Wodrow to know anything
about the murder of John Brown ? He could have had no
personal knowledge or recollection of the circumstance, for
he was not quite six years of age at the time when it is said
to have occurred. He has not offered one scrap of evidence,
in support of his allegation, and merely leaves it to be in-
ferred that he had derived the story from that most uncer-

THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 343

tain of all sources, tradition. Even at the hands of the
most honest, cautious, and scrupulous chronicler, we should
hesitate to receive a tale of this kind ; but from Wodrow,
who is certainly entitled to claim none of the above adjec-
tives as applicable to himself, who will take it ? No one, I
should hope, whose prejudice is not so strong as to lead him
to disregard the most ordinary verification of evidence.
Claverhouse had enemies enough to insure the circulation
of such a damning tale, supposing it to have been true, long
before he had lain for two-and-thirty years in his gi'ave.
He was not without eulogists, whose tribute to his memory
was as gall and wormwood to their opponents, and in whose
teeth, most assuredly, the details of such a dastardly and
unprovoked murder would have been cast. Yet no man
charged him with it. More than a generation passed away
— the tw^o Kingdoms had been united, and Mar's insurrec-
tion quelled — before the miracle -mongering minister of
Eastwood ventured, upon no documentary authority at all,
to concoct and publish the story which Mr Macaulay has
adopted without a scruple.

After what I have said, it may fairly be asked, whether
the whole of this story should be considered a mere myth or
fable hatched from the brain, or palmed upon the easy cre-
dulity, of Kobert Wodrow, or whether there are any grounds
for believing that it is at least founded upon fact ? To this
I should reply, that, from other testimony, the character
and complexion of which I shall immediately analyse, it
appears to be true that John Brown of Priestfield, or Priest-
hill, did actually sufi'er by military execution, but that the
same testimony utterly contradicts Wodrow, and his fol-
lower, Mr Macaulay, in every important particular relative
to the details. Mr Macaulay may not have known that
such testimony ever existed, for even the most painstaking
historian is sure to pass over some material in so wide a
field ; nevertheless, since the point has been mooted, it may
be a satisfaction to him to learn that his version of the
story has long ago been repudiated in essentialihics by the

344 APPENDIX.

most popular work that eyer emanated from the Covenaut-
iug priuting-press.

Patrick Walker, packman and publisher at the Bristo
Port of Edinburgh, was concerned at a very early age in the
Scottish troubles. In 1682, he and two other Covenanters
were present at the death of one Francis Gordon, a volun-
teer in the Earl of Airlie's troop, who, it seems, was shot
through the head. Walker, in his own account of this
exploit, first published in 1727, cautiously abstains from in
dieating the exact perpetrator of the deed, but leaves the
glory thereof to be shared among the triumvirate. The sum
of his confession amounts simply to this — that he, Gordon,
** got a shot in his head out of a pocket-pistol, rather fit for
diverting a boy, than killing such a furious, mad, brisk man ;
which, notwithstanding, killed him dead." He was, more-
over, says Walker, "seeking his own death, and got it."
For this affair Walker was imprisoned, and sentenced to
transportation, but made his escape, and, after various
vicissitudes, set himself down in his old age to compile
the Memoirs of the Covenanters. The first of these tracts
did not appear until after Wodrow's History was published,
and intense is the contempt expressed by the persecuted
packman for the slip-slop of the fair-weather ininister,
whom he accuses of positive dishonesty. **I wish him,"
says Walker, in his Vindication of Cameron, "repentance
and forgiveness for what unaccountable wrongs he has done
by his pen to the Testimony, and to the names of Christ's
slain witnesses for the same. For myself I am easy ; my
tongue is yet in my head and my pen in my hand ; and
what I have to say upon that head for myself, and those
with me, will run faster and further than he has feet to go.
I am reflected upon for my not giving Mr Wodrow better
information. Answer. — Before his History came out, when
I heard of his manuscripts going from hand to hand among
the Longheads (I knew it would be patched up according to
the backsliding spirit of the day), I desired the Rev. Mr
James Webster to give me account when he came to his

THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 345

house, that I might have a short conversation with hini.
Mrs Webster told him my desire. He answered, he de-
pended on the records of that time." In the same work
he characterises Wodrow's statements as "lies and ground-
less stories ; " and, moreover, piously expresses a wish **that
Mr Wodrow's well-wishers would pray for him, that he may
come to himself and be of a right mind, who has been so
lavish of his misrepresentations and groundless reflections."
Such is Walker's opinion of the authenticity of Wodrow's
History, though his remarks are of course principally di-
rected to misrepresentations of the champions of the Cove-
nant. But they are useful as showing his impression of
the intrinsic value of the work.

Walker's best and earliest tract is the lAfe of Peden.
This originally appeared in 1724, and is still widely circu-
lated among the peasantry of Scotland. It is a strange mix-
ture of earnestness and superstition ; sometimes rugged and
even coarae in its style, and yet at times rising to a point
of real though homely pathos. Peden, the subject of the
memoir, was an intercommuned minister, whom the Cove-
nanters asserted to have been endowed with miraculous pro-
phetical powers. He was concerned in the insurrection ot
Pentland, and sentenced to banishment, but liberated by
the leniency of the Government ; notwithstanding which,
he relapsed into his old courses, became the active agent of
rebellion, and so notorious that he was expressly marked
for capture. Of his frequent interviews with the devil, his
gifts of second-sight and divination, and his power of cast-
ing out unclean spirits, I shall say nothing here. Walker
faithfully records at least a hundred such instances, which
are sufficient to entitle Peden to take rank beside Apollo-
nius of Tyana. He appears, however, in actual flesh and
blood connected with the tragedy of John Brown.

Walker's narrative c6mmences thus : — **In the begin-
ning of May 1685, he (Peden) came to the house of John
Brown and Isobel Weir, whom he had married before he
last went to Ireland, whore he stayed all uight ; and in the

346 APPENDIX.

morning, when lie took his fai-ewell, he came out at the door,
saying to himself, * Poor woman, a fearful morning, ' twice
over — * a dark misty morning ! ' The next morning, between
five and six hours, the said John Brown, having performed
the worship of God in his family, was going with a spade in
his hand to make ready some peat-ground, the mist being
very dark, knew not until bloody cruel Claverhouse com-
passed him with three troops of horses, brought him to his
house, and there examined him." Walker, like Wodrow,
is silent as to the nature of the charge. Then comes the
sentence — ** his wife standing by with her child in her arms,
that she had brought forth to him, and another child of his
first wife's ; " and the execution is thus narrated — ** Claver-
house ordered six soldiers to shoot him ; the most part of
the bullets came upon his head, which scattered his brains
upon the ground."

Such is Walker's account of the matter, forty years hav-
ing in the mean time intervened ; and whether strictly cor-
rect or no, it entirely alters the complexion of the case as
stated by Mr Macaulay. Instead of John Brown being one
"in whom the tyrants could find no offemje except that he
absented himself from the public worship of the Episcopa-
lians, " we find him in intercourse with a man who, whatever
might be his spiritual gifts, was a notorious outlaw and a
rebel ; the whole romance about the reluctance of the sol-
diers vanishes ; the "wild and hard-hearted men" are at
once amenable to the authority of their commanding officer ;
and the alleged murder dwindles into a case of military
execution.

Of the two histories, that of Walker is unquestionably
most likely to resemble the truth. He professes to have
heard some of the details from the wife of Brown, whereas
Wodrow gives us no manner of authority at all. There are,
however, suspicious circumstances even in Walker's narra-
tive, which might be noticed. For example, in the original
edition of his pamphlet, he states that the first person who
CBjne to Mrs Brown, while she was watching by her hus-

THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 347

band's body, was "that old singular Christian woman in
the Cummerhead, named Elizabeth Menzies, three miles
distant ;" but in the third edition, this matron, retaining her
residence and encomium, is transmuted into "Jean Brown."
Surely these two cannot signify one and the same person,
and we are therefore left in doubt which particular female
was the witness. But it is not worth while going into
minute criticism. Walker, who was a far more determined
Covenanter than Wodrow, was not likely to have under-
stated the circumstances, neither does he profess to know
upon what charge Brown was examined. I think, however,
I can throw some light upon this person's political delin-
quencies : and, strangely enough, my authority is derived
from an official document which will be found in the
Appendix to Wodrow.

" John Brown of Priestfield, in the parish of Muirkirk," *
figures in the list of fugitives appended to the Royal Pro-
clamation of 5th May 1684. The list is of those who had
been regularly cited as rebels in arms, or resetters of rebels,
but who had failed to appear. John Brown, therefore, had
been outlawed a year before his death, and certainly for a
very different offence than that of " absenting himself from
the public worship of the Episcopalians." Undoubtedly it
w*s considered, in the eye of the law, an offence to attend
armed conventicles, where fanatical and intercommuned
preachers wrested texts from Scripture into encomiums on
sedition, treason, and murder : that, however, was a very
different thing from non-attendance upon the curate. Wod-
row acknowledges that Brown "had been a long time upon
his hiding in the fields," a circumstance surely irreconcil-

* In order that there may be no cavilling about the identity of the
name or designation (for the place of Brown's residence has been
variously printed as "Priestfield," Priesthill," and "the Preshill"),
I subjoin the exact words of Wodrow, in his account of the execu-
■ tion. ** I may well begin with the horrid murder of that excellent
person, John Broton of PrUttfleklf in the parish of Muirkirk, by Cla-
verhouse^ the first of this month."

348 APPENDIX.

able with his entire consciousness of innocence, but easily
explained on the ground that he was already a rebel and
an outlaw. To say that he was tried and sentenced for
non-conformity is to hazard an assertion not only without
foundation, but in the very teeth of history. I maintain —
and I know that I am borne out by incontrovertible proof
— that, at the time in question, there was no manner of
persecution exercised in Scotland against any body of men
whatever, on account of their religious tenets.

Mr Macaulay, whilst dilating upon the harsh usage of the
Covenanters, never once affords us a glimpse of the opposite
side of the picture. His object is to show that James VII.,
immediately on his accession to the throne, commenced a
relentless religious persecution ; and accordingly, he ignores
the position of affairs in Scotland during the last six months
of the reign of Charles II. I have examined very minutely
the original records of the Privy Council preserved in the
public archives of Edinburgh, and these, taken in connec-
tion with Fountainhall's explanatoiy Diaries, furnish ample
proof that the charges brought against King James are
without foundation. I propose verj' shortly to inquire into
this matter.

Charles II. died 6th February 1685. Let us see what
was the state of the kingdom towards the close of the pre-
ceding year.

In September 1684, the southern and western shires
were so turbulent that the Privy Council found it necessary
to issue four special commissions of Justiciary for those
districts alone. " In the month of June last,'* says the Royal
Proclamation of 22d July, ** about two hundred armed rebels
have presumed, to the great contempt of our authority, to
march openly through several of the said shires for many
days together, threatening the orthodox clergy and mur-
dering our soldiers ; and have at last, when they found
it convenient, disappeared, being cei-tainly and undeniably
reset by the inhabitants of those shires, without sufficient
diligence done by the sheriffs and inhabitants of the said

THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 349

shires, either for dissipating them, or for discovering their
resetters, and bringing them to justice." How far those
special commissions succeeded in repressing crime may be
judged of by the following events : —

*^20th Nov. 1684. — The news came this morning to
Edinburgh that some of the desperate phanatiques had
last night fallen upon two of the King's Life-Guards, viz.
Thomas Kennoway and Duncan Stewart, who were lying
at the Swyn Abbay, beyond Blackburn, in Linlithgowshire,
and murdered them most barbarously. This was to execute
what they had threatened in their declaration of war. "

**12th Dec, 1684.— News came to the Privy Council that
the wild phanatiques had fallen in upon one Peirson, min-
ister at Carsphairn in Galloway, a great dilator of them,
and zealous of rebuking them in his sermons, and killed
him. They ridiculously keep mock courts of justice, and
cite any they judge their inveterate enemies to them, aiid
read probation, and condemn them, and thereafter murder
them."*

Some of the murderers of Mr Peirson were afterwards
taken and shot. They also have been elevated to the rank
of martyrs. The epitaph of one of them, Robert Mitchell,
is printed among the inscriptions at the conclusion of the
Cl<md of Witnesses.

On the 28th of January thereafter, the Privy Council was
informed that Captain Urquhart, and several of his men,
had been waylaid and murdered in Wigtownshire. f

These specimens may serve to show the temper of the
Covenanters about the close of 1684. Next, as to the
alleged fiery persecutions of James, *' which," says Mr
Macaulay, "waxed hotter than ever from the day on which
he became sovereign." That day was the 6th of Februarj'',
and on the 26th of the same month he issued a full pardon
and indemnity to all offenders below the rank of heritors

* Fountaikhall's Bistoriecil Notices.

t Beeords of the Privy Council in General Record Office, Edinburgh.

350 APPENDIX.

(with the exception only of those who were actually guilty
of the murders of Archbishop Sharpe, Mr Peirson, and two
others), and that clogged with no other condition than the
taking of the oath of allegiance. The proclamation was
published on the 2d of March, and on the 14th the Privy
Council ordered all prisoners whatsoever to be set at liberty,
**upon their abjuring the fanatical declaration of war, and
likewise solemnly giving their oaths never to lise against
his Majesty or his authority." Surely never yet was perse-
cution inaugurated by such liberal measures as these ! It
is right to observe, that the reader will fail to discover the
smallest mention of them in the pages of Mr Macaulay.

In less than ten days after this jail-delivery, the disturb-
ances began anew. On the 24th of March, "the Lords of
his Majesty's Privy Council being certainly informed that
a number of desperate rebels have the boldness and confi-
dence openly to go up and down the shire of Ayr, and other
adjacent shires and places, and to enter houses, take away
arms and provisions at their pleasure, without any notice
taken of them either by the heritors or commons, to the
great affront of his Majesty's authority," commissioned
Colonel James Douglas to proceed to the disaffected dis-
tricts, with full powers to repress the disorders. The com-
mission was signed on the 27th by the whole members ot
the Privy Council who were present, "except Claverhouse"
— a remarkable exception, specially noted, to which I shall
presently refer. Of the same date, a letter from the Privy
Council was forwarded to the Earl of Dumfries, Sheriff of
Ayr, requesting immediate particulars, as it appeared that
his Lordship's house had been one of those which were
ransacked.

Douglas seems to have entered into his functions with
zeal, but not to have been altogether successful. The in-
surrection continued to increase, and on the 21st April>
General - Lieutenant Drummond, Master • General of the
Ordnance, was appointed Commissioner and Justiciar in
the southern and western shires, with plenary powers.

THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 351

The Parliament of Scotland did not meet until two days
afterwards.

These insurrections had their origin in a deeper cause
than religious dissent or local turbulence. Mr Macaulay,
who confidently says that ** there was no insurrection in
any part of our island on the 1st May," probably consider-
ing the Ayrshire rising as a mere sportive demonstration,
has a note in refutation of the editor of the Oxford edition
of Burnet, who supposes that John Brown might have been
mixed up with the designs of Argyle. He says that Argyle
was at that date in Holland. True ; but he sailed for Scot-
land on the 2dy and the Privy Council had been aware of
his designs as early as the 21st April. On that day they
ordered 1200 Highlanders to be sent into the western shires,
" upon rumours of fears of Argyle's landing ; " and Drum-
mond, in his commission, was empowered to take tiiose
Highlanders under his command. On the 28th, an Act was
framed for putting the whole kingdom in a posture of de-
fence, expressly on accoui\t of Argyle ; and on the last of
that month John Campbell of Succo was aiTested for treason-
able correspondence with that infatuated nobleman. Nor
can there be a shadow of a doubt that the disturbances in
the west were connected with the meditated landing.

Is, then, the conjecture of the editor of Burnet so exceed-
ingly extravagant ? I do not think so. How came John
Brown, as Wodrow says, to have been "along time upon
his hiding in the fields " ? He was free by the indemnity,
unless, indeed, he had refused the oath of allegiance, or
committed some subsequent act which put him beyond the
pale of the law. In the report of a committee of the Privy
Council, made on the 10th of March, I find the following
entry :—** John Brown, an old man, in the fugitive roll,
refuses the allegiance, and so ought not to have the benefit
of the indemnity." If this be the same person with the
carrier of Priestfield, he was at that time a prisoner, and
therefore must either have made his escape, or, having
taken the oath, subsequently joined the rebels ; in either of

352 APPENDIX.

which cases his hiding in the fields is intelligible enough,
and so also is his summary execation when an-ested. But
in no way can it be shown that he suffered on account of
his religious tenets ; and it is very well worthy of observa-
tion that the Act against Conventicles which has been so
much abused, was not passed by the Scottish Parliament*
until several days after the date in question. Let the
candid and impartial reader com^re these dates, circum-
stances, and evidences, with the narrative of Mr Macaulay,
and I have little fear of his arriving at the same conclusions
with that eloquent historian.

It seems to me, therefore, quite clear that John Brown
was executed as a rebel. He may be considered a martyr
in the same sense as Hackstoun of Eathillet and Robert
Mitchell, who had imbrued their hands in the blood of the
Primate of St Andrews and of the minister of Carsphairn,
or as the rebels who adhered to the atrocious Declaration of
Sanquhar ; but I cannot see what other claim he has to the
title. He was fugitated the year before ; he had either re-
fused or had forfeited the benefit of the indemnity ; he was
trafficking with a notorious outlaw ; and he is admitted to
have been in hiding within six weeks after the indemnity
was proclaimed. All this, at least, is patent and proven ;
and it is utterly inconsistent with his innocence, even if
we should stretch charity so far as to suppose that, during
those six weeks, he did not join one of those armed bands
of rebels who were then perambulating and plundering the
country. The aggravations, which constitute the romance
of the story, have been already disposed of. Patrick
Walker, the stancher Cameronian of the two, gives Robert
"VVodrow the lie direct.

This note has already extended to such a length that I
am really unwilling to add a word more on the subject.
But the duty which I have undertaken compels me to state
my belief that Grahame of Claverhouse had no share what-
ever in repressing the disturbances previous to the landing
of Argyle, and that he was not present at the execution of

THE VISCOUNT OP DUNDEE. 353

John Brown. Tradition of course is against me ; but when
I find no articulate voice uttered by tradition until after
the expiry of thirty years, I am not disposed to give much
weight to it as an accessary, far less to accept it as reason-
able evidence. My reasons are as follows \—

Claverhouse was superseded in his military command by
Colonel James Douglas, brother of Queensberry, who was
then High Treasurer. The district assigned to Douglas was
that of Ayr, the shire in which John Brown resided ; and
Claverhouse, being of equal military rank, did not serve
under him, as is apparent from the records of the Privy
Council, the meetings of which he attended daily until the
month of ApriL These records refute many of the scandal-
ous tales propagated by Crookshank and others, who depict
Claverhouse as pursuing Covenanters in Nithsdale, at the
very moment when he was performing his duties as a coun-
cillor in Edinburgh. Fountainhall tells us distinctly that
he was superseded out of spite : he refused, in his character
of Privy Councillor, to sign the commission, and in April
he was actually omitted from the new list of councillors.
The following is Fountainh all's entry on that occasion : —
** 9th April 1685. — A Privy Council is held where a new
commission is produced, omitting none of the former Privy
Councillors but only Colonel Grahame of Claverhouse, be-
cause of the discords we have formerly marked between him
and the High Treasurer andv his brother. The pretence
was, that, being married in my Lord Dundonald's phana-
tique family, it was not safe to commit the King's secrets
to him." The spite went even further : for a few days
afterwards an Act of Council was passed, says Fountain-
hall, ** in odium of Claverhouse ;** and I cannot find, in the
records of that year, the slightest trace of his having been
reinstated in command. It is possible, however, that he
might have been called out to serve under General Drum-
mond, but not surely upon such duty as this. John Brown
must have been a very desperate rebel indeed, if a Colonel
of the Guards, who moreover had been a Privy Councillor,
z

354 APPENDIX.

and three troops of horse, were despatched specially to
arrest him ! If he was no rebel at all, but merely a non-
conformist, the thing becomes absolutely incredible ; for,
setting aside the indemnity, can any one believe that, in
the face of Argyle's meditated landing, and in the midst of
actual insurrection, the troops were leisurely employed in
ferreting out and shooting such of the peasantry as did not
worship with the curates ? But vulgar credulity owns no
limits, and the lapse of thirty years is sufficient to account
for the currency of the grossest fable.

In estimating the character of the dead, some weight
surely ought to be given to the opinions of contemporaries.
I shall cite merely one — that of Dr Monro, the Principal of
the University of Edinburgh. At the inquiry instituted be-
fore the visitors in 1690, it was alleged, as a special article
of dittay against the Reverend Principal, that he had re-
joiced at the victory of Lord Dundee. After calling upon
his accuser for proofs, the Doctor thus boldly expressed
himself: — **The libeller does not think I rejoiced at the
fall of my Lord Dundee ! I assure him of the contrar}'- ;
for no gentleman, soldier, scholar, or civilised citizen, will
find fault with me for this. I had an extraordinary value
for him ; and such of his enemies as retain any generosity
will acknowledge he deserved it." * But what generosity,
or even what regard for truth, could be expected from crea-
tures of the stamp of Wodrow !

Mr Macaulay is peculiarly unfortunate on the subject of
Claverhouse. I say nothing of omissions, though I most
take the liberty, with all deference, of remarking that it
does appear somewhat strange to find in a history, which
recounts with such minute satisfaction every instance of
desertion from the losing side, no notice taken of the loy-
alty of those who remained steadfast to their oath and their
allegiance. In an impartial narrative one might expect to

* Presbyterian InquUUian : asU %oas latdy prcuAUtd against the Pirh
fessors of the College of Edinburgh, Aug. and Sept 1090. Licensed
Nov. 12, 1601. London.

THE VISCOUNT OP DUNDEE. 355

see recorded the gallant advice and chivalrous offer made b)'
Lord Dundee to his sovereign, before the latter quitted his
dominions ; for surely devotion to a losing cause is worthy
of honour and respect, and should receive it from a generous
antagonist. But historians undoubtedly have the privilege
of omitting what they please, and, in this instance, it is
suflScient to note that the privilege has been exercised. But
Mr Macaulay has thought fit to iutroduce Claverhouse once
more as an actor in an historical scene, upon which he has
obviously bestowed much pains and consideration. In his
account of the capture and execution of Argyle, he says : —
**The victorious party had not forgotten that, thirty-five
years before this time, the father of Argyle had been at the
head of the faction which put Montrose to death. Before
that event, the houses of Graham and Campbell had borne
no love to each other, and they had ever since been at
deadly feud. Care was taken that the prisoner should pass
through the same gate and the same streets through which
Montrose had been led to the same doom. The troops who
(Utended the procession were put under the command of Cla-
verhouse, the fiercest and sternest of the race of Graham^
Now, although the father of Argyle had not only been the
head of the faction which put Montrose to death, but had,
along with his son, the inconceivable meanness to be pre-
sent at and exult over the indignities offered to that illus-
trious nobleman, it is not true that any chief of the gallant
house of Grahame stooped to imitate such a base example.
Claverhouse was not there. The melodramatic effect of the
narrative may suffer in consequence, but at present we are
dealing with history, not romance. The impression which
every one must receive from the foregoing passage is, that
Claverhouse was expressly selected for the duty, in order to
give a passing triumph, not only to a political cause, but
also to a family feud. Knowing well how eagerly fonner
Covenanting writers have fastened upon any pretext for
casting a stain upon the memory of Claverhouse, it was
with considerable astonishment that I found this state-

356 APPENDIX.

ment brought forward for the first time by Mr Macaulay.
His mistake, in this instance, is precisely of a piece with
the others. Wodrow quotes, accurately enough, the sub-
stance of the order given for bringing Argyle into Edin-
burgh — an oi*der which was modified in its execution. That
oi-der bears that he shall be " carried up the street bare-
headed, with his hands tied behind his back, in the midst
of Captain Graham's guards." This is enough for Mr
Macaulay, who forthwith pounces upon the name, and,
without stopping to consider who Captain Graham was, at
once degrades Claverhouse from his rank, and identifies
him with the officer of the guard ! Hence the rhetorical
flourish about the houses of Graham and Campbell. The
real fact is, that the oflScer in question was Patrick Graham,
a younger son of Inchbruikie, Captain of the Town-guard
of Edinburgh, whose duty it was, irrespective of politics or
family feuds, to be present at all public processions within
the boundaries of the city. His name is given at full length
in the original order ; but Mr Macaulay, having previously
substituted James for John, now substitutes John for Pat-
rick, and consequently is enabled to invest the scene with
an additional, though spurious, hue of interest. Besides
this, I am afraid that Mr Macaulay's account of the pro-
cession must be considered as chiefly drawn from his own
imagination. Argyle was by no means exposed to the same
indignities which had been heaped upon Montrose, neither
was his doom the same. Fountainhall, in his Historical
Observes f a work of great interest, expressly tells us, that
although it was mentioned that, **when the Marquis of
Montrose was brought up prisoner from the Watergate in
a cart, this Argile was feeding his eyes with the sight in
the Lady Murray's balcony, in the Canongate, with her
daughter, his lady, to whom he was newly married, and
that he was seen smiling and playing with her ; " yet that,
"seeing we condemn these rebellious tymes for their rigor,
our great men (not knowing their own destinies) thought it
no fit copy to imitate— bo that all that was done to him was,

THE VISCeUNT OF DUNDEE. 357

that he was met at the Watergate by Captain Graham's
company and the hangman, who tied his hands behind his
back ; and so the hangman going before him, he came up
on his feet to the Castle, btU it was caaUn to be so late that
he was little seen." It was ten o'clock at night before he
arrived at the Watergate, so that any attempt at ignominious
parade was avoided.

I cannot see how the memory of Argyle can be served by
.such exaggerations. Whatever may have been his previous
delinquencies— and they were neither few nor trivial — he
met his fate like a brave man, nor did any action of his life
become him so much as its close. Claverhouse, who would
joyfully have encountered him in the. field, was infinitely
above the littleness of triumphing over his political oppo-
nent. The debt due to the memory of the great Montrose
was fully discharged when his loyalty received its posthum-
ous tribute, and the remains of the hero were deposited by
his assembled kindred in the tomb. It is a pity that Mr
Macaulay, since he must needs take Wodrow as his autho-
rity, has not adhered closely to his text. In matters which
were evidently public, and therefore open to common con-
tradiction, Wodrow seldom ventures to wander far astray
from the truth : it is in the alleys and bye-lanes of his narra-
tive that we detect him at his habitual sin. Mr Macaulay,
however, does not always follow Wodrow, but sometimes
misinterprets Fountainhall. Thus, in his account of the
riot at Edinburgh on 31 st January 1686, he somewhat mag-
niloquently tells us that ** the troops were already under
arms. Conspicuous among them were Claverhouse's dra-
goons, the dread and abhorrence of Scotland." His sole
authodty for saying so is the entry in Fountainhall's Diary
that **the Counsell calls in the assistance of Grame's com-
pany." Not a dragoon was there. Patrick Graham, as
usual, was summoned with the Town-guard; but that
body, in the hands of Mr Macaulay, multiplies like Fal-
staffs famous corps in buckram, and is ready on the
shortest notice to figure as horse, foot, or artillery.

358 APPENDIX.

I trust that, in the foregoing remarks, I shall not be con-
sidered as haying transgressed the proper bounds of cour-
tesy. Mr Macaulay's reputation is deservedly so high, that
every statement emanating from his pen is liable to the
minutest scrutiny ; and I will fairly confess that I was not
sorry to find the scattered charges which, from time to
time, have been brought against Lord Dundee, concen-
trated in his volumes, since an accusation from so power-
ful a quarter must necessarily give some additional interest
to the defence, however feebly executed. It is from no
desire for controversy, far less from a wish to run counter
to popular opinion, that I have approached this subject. I
am fully aware of the weight of prejudice against which I
have to contend ; but from that prejudice I appeal to the
truth, as I gather it from the records of the time. Some of
ray critics, for whose indulgence otherwise I am grateful,
have been pleased to express themselves wrathfully at find-
ing any terms of eulogy applied in the text towards an indi-
vidual in the belief of whose misdeeds they have been here-
ditarily and traditionally trained. If my belief upon such
points were the same with theirs, they should have had no
cause of complaint. It is because I am convinced, after a
most careful examination of the evidence — not of historians
only, but of such as is afforded by the materials which ought
to be the foundation of authentic history — that a large por-
tion of our national annals has been most unfairly per-
verted, and that party strife and polemical rancour have
combined to distort facts and to blacken names for mere
temporary and ephemeral purposes ; — it is for these reasons
solely that I have ventured to go back into the disputed
battle-fields of the past. I have taken nothing for granted,
but have given an authority for each separate allegation ;
afad if those authorities should happen to prove hostile to
the preconceived impressions of any one, surely I am not to
blame. If anything I have said can be proved to be wrong,
I am willing to admit the error, but not otherwise. Mean-
while I am not ashamed of having attempted to defend the

THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 359

memory of Lord Dundee against nnjust accuaations, not pre-
ferred during his lifetime, but invented at a later period ;
for I can see no generosity, far less justice, in the conduct
of those who are obstinately deaf to all evidence in favour
of one whom they have been previously taught to condemn,
and who seem to think that the strength of their own cause
depends upon the amount of obloquy which they can con-
trive to heap upon its opponents.

THE END.

PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH.

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