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HISTORY
OF TEIE
REBELLIONS IN SCOTLAND,
IFROM
1638 TILL 1660.
ºn the various DEPARTMENTS
\t – DIF – ->
LITERATURE, SCIENCE, & THE ARTS.
VOIL, a YºYX||.
REBELLIONS IN sco TLAND 1638–1660. VoI. Iſ
- ºur
- - º --
- ---------
EDINBURGH:
PRINTIED FOR CONSTABILIE * tº EDINBURGET-
AND THIUKST, CIELANTIE & Cº LDNIDO.N.
1828.

f ~
2 – V. 30
H IS TO R Y
REBELLIONS IN SCOTLAND,
UNIDER
THE MARQUIS OF MONTROSE,
AND OTHERS,
FROM 1638 TILL 1660.
BY ROBERT CHAMBERs,
A UTHOR OF THE ** HISTORY OF THE REBELLION IN 1745.”
IN TWO VOLUMES,
VOL. II.
EDINBURGH :
PRINTED FOR CONSTABLE AND CO.
AND HURST, CHANCE, AND CO. LONDON.
1828.
EDINBURGHI :
PRINTED BY BALLANTY N E AND COMPANY.,
PAUI,'S WORK; CANONGATE.
CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
PAGE.
CHAPTER I.
Ravage of Argyle, and Battle of Inverlochy . . 3
CHAPTER II.
The Retreat of Dundee - * º * º 26
ë CHAPTER III.
The Battles of Auldearn and Alford * * . 46
CHAPTER IV.
Battle of Kilsyth º ë. p º • wº 75
CHAPTER V.
Battle of Philiphaugh * e e * o 105
CHAPTER VI.
Suppression of Montrosc's Insurrection * * 139
CHAPTER VII.
Conclusion of the Civil War º º º * 165
CONTENTS,
P
Ascendency of the Independents, and Execution of the
King
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
Character of Argyle's Government
CHAPTER X.
Montrose's Second Campaign
CHAPTER XI.
Montrose's Capture and Execution
CHAPTER XII.
Charles II.'s Residence in Scotland
Conclusion
NOTES
CHAPTER XIII.
AGE,
181
202
211
228
253
284
299
HISTORY
OF THE
REBELLIONS IN SCOTLAND,
FROM
1638 TILL 1660.
VOL. II, A
HISTORY
OF THE
REBELLIONS IN SCOTLAND,
FROM
1638 TILL 1660.
*-
CHAPTER I.
RAVAGE OF ARGYLE, AND BATTLE OF
INVERLOCHY.
The war-tune of Donald the Black,
The war-tune of Donald !
The pipes and the banner
Are up in the rendezvous at Inverlochyl
Translation of a Gaelic Poem.
THOUGH Montrose had not yet by any means
accomplished the object of his expedition to Scot-
land, and although the Estates found it still pos-
sible to check him with little more than the militia
of the country, his victories had nevertheless, by
proving them to be not infallible, wrought a con-
siderable change in the aspect of their affairs.
“Many,” says Guthry, “who had formerly been
violent in the popular cause, now began to talk
moderately;” impressed, it would appear, with a
4. RAVAGE OF ARGYLE,
respect for the loyal party which they had never
before entertained. That loyal party, on the other
hand, now found themselves at liberty to speak
their sentiments with boldness, regarding the ille-
gality and danger of the late movements of the
Covenanting government, especially their unhal-
lowed league with the English insurgents against
a sovereign who had treated at least them with
kindness and liberality. There were many neutral
persons, moreover, who, having formerly submit-
ted to the Estates purely because they conceived
their power irresistible, now thought fit to incline
towards the party whose prospects had lately re-
ceived so unexpected a brightening.
While Argyle was making merit with his con-
stituents at Edinburgh for having terminated the
campaign of 1644 “without bloodshed,” and while
all unconcerned persons were laughing at so un-
soldierly a virtue, Montrose was preparing in the
centre of the Highlands for an enterprise still more
daring and terrible than any he had yet under-
taken. Being joined, in his retreat through that
wild region, by a great portion of the clan Donald,
by a portion of the Camerons, and by the Stewarts
of Appin, whom his faithful friend Colkittoch had
succeeded in raising for his service, he called a
council of war to determine what quarters it would
be advisable for the army to assume for the winter."
He himself proposed the low country as the only
place where he conceived it would be possible to
procure either quarters or provisions; others thought
the Highlands more eligible on account of their
comparative security. A third party suggested
that no place could be better than the country of
their common enemy Argyle. This last suggestion
met the approbation of all present: the Irish ap-
A N D BATTLE OF IN VE R LO CHY. 5
proved of it as enabling them to avenge the ravages
which a body of Campbells, as part of the Scottish
Protestant army there established, had for years
been exercising upon their own lands at home; the
Highlanders delighted in it as tending to gratify
their own justifiable feelings of revenge against an
imperious and grasping clan; and, for Montrose,
he rejoiced in the prospect of thus at once depress-
ing his own personal enemy, and unfitting him for
ever after thwarting, as he had already so often
done, by his enormous territorial power, the policy
of his royal master. It only remained to be in-
quired if Argyle's country, peninsulated as it was
by the sea, and so remote from all other cultivated
lands, would support an army during the winter.
Montrose, to ascertain this point, called to the
council Angus Macdonald, son of Allan Dhu
Macdonald, of the sept of Glencoe, who, of all
his men, was best acquainted with the district.
Angus, being asked if there was abundance of food
and lodging in Argyle, answered that, although
“ there was not a town nor half a town in all the
country, yet there were plenty of houses to live in,
and plenty of fat cattle to feed upon;" an answer
which so completely satisfied Montrose, that he
instantly gave orders for a march towards the de-
voted land in question.
His army approached Argyle in two divisions.
One, consisting chiefly of the Lochaber and Knoy-
dart people, went, with John Muidartach, the cap-
tain of the Clanranald, by the head of Argyle.
The other marched, under his own command,
through Breadalbane, along the brink of Loch Tay,
and through Glen Dochart, in a more latitudinal
direction. The country on both tracts belonging,
if not to Argyle himself, at least to his kinsmen
A 2
6 RAVAGE OF ARGYLE,
and adherents, was unsparingly destroyed. As
Montrose's own party marched through Breadal-
bane, it was joined by the clans of Macgregor and
Macnab.” -
When Argyle heard at Edinburgh of these
movements and proceedings of the royal army, he
hastened home to his own country, and exerted
himself to raise his clan, apparently for the pur-
pose of checking Montrose's progress. It does
not appear that he apprehended the possibility of
that general's breaking in upon his own country,
the passes to which were so difficult and at the
same time so important, that he had been heard to
declare he would not have them known by any
other than a friend for an hundred thousand
crowns.” He therefore took no measures for re-
pelling the invasion which Montrose was medita-
ting, but on the contrary lay secure in his own
fancied inaccessibility, at Inverary, with his levies
going on deliberately around him, when intelligence
suddenly arrived, that the enemy was within two
miles of his residence. He instantly took boat up-
on Loch Fyne, and, without waiting to concert any
measures for the defence of the country, set sail
for the Lowlands, leaving his numerous clan un-
commanded, and their whole property exposed to
the licence of the spoilers. Montrose took full
advantage of the unprotected state of the country:
he burnt every house, except the impregnable
castles; slew, drove off, ate up, or otherwise de-
stroyed, every four-footed beast; and utterly spoil-
ed every thing in the shape of grain, goods, and
furniture. The writer of the Red Book of Clan-
ranald mentions, as a dreadful addition to the gross
amount of ravage, that the party which went un-
der the conduct of John Muidartach, and which
AND BATTLE OF INVERLO CHY. 7
penetrated the length of Kilmartin in Glasry, slew
eight hundred and ninety-five persons, without
battle or skirmish; but, as no other historian has
taken the least notice of such a circumstance,” it is
probably untrue. Whether or not there was any
massacre, the unfortunate inhabitants certainly suf-
fered severely enough to expiate the political faults
of their superior; for the ravages of the royal
army were extended through almost every penin-
sular limb of this vast district, and continued for
no less a space than six weeks, namely from the
13th of December 1644 to the 28th or 29th of
January 1645.
On making his escape from Inverary, the Mar-
quis of Argyle went to Dumbarton, where he met
a party of regular troops, which the Estates had
recalled from England, for the suppression of the
royalists, and which they now dispatched for his
immediate assistance, under Major-general Baillie,
one of their second-rate commanders. Intelligence
soon after arriving that Montrose was quitting the
country by its northern extremity, a plan was con-
certed by Argyle and Baillie, that while the form-
er should raise his clan and follow him at a certain
distance, the latter should lead his regular forces
round the eastern extremity of the Highlands, and,
coming up in his front, either overthrow him utter-
ly, or at least drive him back in disorder for com-
plete destruction by the advancing legions of
Argyle. To give the greater efficacy to the clan
army, Campbell of Auchinbreck, the cousin of the
chief, and an experienced soldier, was called over
from his duty in Ireland, to take a high command
and principal direction in its tumultuary and irre-
solute bands; and Baillie, by consent of the Com-
mittee of Estates, granted for its assistance eleven
S RAVAGE OF A R GYLE,
hundred of his own disciplined soldiers." The
scheme was good, and might have been attended
with the desired success in other circumstances;
but, as these circumstances stood, it only yielded
the superior genius of Montrose opportunity to in-
flict another and still severer blow upon the re-
tainers of his enemy.
Montrose was, about the last day of January,
marching through Abertarf in the great glen of
Albin, with the intention of attacking an army of
northern Highlanders which he understood to have
been collected in garrison at Inverness by the Earl
of Seaforth,” when he was overtaken by a breath-
less and way-worn Highlander, who surprised him
with the intelligence that Argyle was following him
through Lochaber, and had already begun to re-
taliate upon that district the flames and spoliation
with which he had so recently visited the country
of the Campbells. According to his usual custom,
he had totally overlooked the possibility of such a
circumstance; and he was now so much surprised
at hearing of the advance of Argyle, that he refused
at first to believe the fact. The Highlander who
brought him the intelligence—by tradition report-
ed to have been the celebrated bard of the Keppoch
family, Ian Lom,” but stated by Guthry to have
been one “Allan MacIldowie of Lochaber,”—as-
severated its truth with such warmth and apparent
sincerity of expression, that the astonished general
at last saw fit to act upon it. Yet such was his
continued incredulity, that, while he gave orders
for a march back to Lochaber, he caused the mes-
senger to be detained a prisoner, and told him that
the ropes were spun which should hang him, in
case of his information proving false. The man
answered, with the spirit of a partizan, that, if a
AND BATTLE OF INVERLO CHY. 9
particular tower, which he named, and which was
the last he had passed in a state of conflagration,
should not be found destroyed on their return, he
would no longer desire life.
The movement which Montrose determined up-
on in this emergency, was, both in its conception
and execution, perhaps the most remarkable he
ever performed. His army was much diminished;
the greater part of the Highlanders having gone
home to deposit the spoils of Argyle. He scarce-
ly mustered one half of the forces which report
gave to his enemy. He was also aware that the
man he had to oppose must be animated against
him with all the feelings of the bitterest hatred and
revenge. Yet, as he supposed it likely that Argyle
had not resolved upon directly fighting him, but
rather followed for the purpose of simply driving
him forward to destruction at Inverness, he judged
that, even with his inadequate forces, his best
course would be to fall back upon him and endea-
vour to surprise his troops, a victory over whom at
this crisis might cause the northern army to dis-
perse of its own accord, while the eclat of such a
triumph would probably encourage the loyal clans,
thereby for ever relieved from the terror of Argyle,
to join him in even greater numbers than hitherto.
A thousand dangers and distresses were involved
in the project; but these, together with the roman-
tic character of the exploit, and the prospect which
it presented of giving another blow to the hated
Argyle, seem to have only recommended it with
greater force to the enterprising genius of Mon-
troSe.
It is known to almost every body who has ever
been in the Highlands of Scotland, that the dis-
tance between Kilcummin,” in Abertarf, where
} () RAVAGE OF ARGYLE,
Montrose received his intelligence, and Inverlochy,
in Lochaber, where he understood that Argyle had
taken up his quarters, is about thirty miles, and
that the way lies along that wonderful natural
chasm, or furrow of the country, which the natives
term the Great Glen of Albin, and which has lat-
terly formed the bed of the Caledonian Canal.
Along this tract, although it was not then provided
with the smooth military road which now renders
it so convenient, Montrose had just come, on his
way to the north ; and he could easily have re-
traced his steps by the same route. There was,
however, a reason for his not doing so. That way,
he felt assured, must now be so completely pos-
sessed and watched by Argyle's scouts, that it
would be totally impossible for him to make by it
the insidious approach to Inverlochy, upon which
he mainly calculated for the means of victory. It
was necessary to adopt some more circuitous, some
less obvious, some altogether unsuspected and un-
guarded path. Here lay the great difficulty of the
enterprise. In a country so mountainous as the
Highlands, the reader must be aware that there
are not many tracts of ground calculated for the
formation of roads; he is also aware, that, if there
are at this day few roads to choose among in this
wild region, there were still fewer at the time under
review. To increase the difficulty, the few paths
which the natives used amongst the hills, and which
then formed the only roads, were now, by the na-
ture of the season, obscured and obstructed by
deep snow. Altogether, it seemed totally impos-
sible that Montrose should advance upon Inver-
lochy by any other path than the peculiarly low
and easy one which he had just traversed in a con-
trary direction.
AND BATTLE O F I NVERLO CH Y. I 1
“Contra audentiorito,” however, had all along
been the heart-motto of Montrose: he resolved at
all hazards to assume a path of the nature described.
Having first taken painsto acquaint himself with the
route, and having sounded the resolution and abili-
ty of his men to endure the march, he gave orders
that they should strike off to the south, up a nar-
row glen formed by the little river Tarf; that they
should then climb over the hills of Lairie Thurard,
and descend upon the wild vale at the head of the
Spey; then, traversing Glenroy, that they should
pass another mountainous tract; after which they
would fall in upon the river Spean ; and so along
the skirts of Ben Nevis to Inverlochy. The tracks
he pointed out, had hitherto been traversed almost
exclusively by the wild deer, or by the scarcely less
wild adventurers who hunted them. The heights
which it skirted or overpassed, were as desert and
lonely as the peaks of primeval chaos. The vast
convulsed face of the country was as white and still
as death, or only darkened in narrow black streaks
by the irregular and far-extending lines of the
marching soldiery. It must have been a scene of
the greatest sublimity, to see these lonely human
beings, so diminutive as compared to the wilder-
messes around them, hurrying and struggling on
through hill and vale, and bank and pass; their
arms either glancing fitfully and flickeringly under
the low winter sum, or their persons obscured to a
visionary and uncertain semblance by the snow-
storm or the twilight; and all the while, the bloody
purpose which animated them, and which gleamed
in every face and eye, contrasting so strangely, in
its transitory and unimportant nature, with the ma-
jestic and etermal solemnity of the mighty scene
around them.
12 RAVAGE OF ARGYLE,
A night, a day, and a portion of the ensuing
evening, sufficed to bring this indefatigable host
to the mouth of Glennevis, the flank-point from
which Montrose had calculated upon making his
unexpected attack on Argyle. As he had taken
care to prevent all intelligence of his return from
reaching the enemy by the open road, and had
killed or taken all suspicious persons whom he en-
countered in his march, he might be said to have
completely accomplished his purpose; so that,
could he now have made the onset, it would have
been, in all probability, decisive on the instant, and
without a contest. His men, however, were fa-
tigued to such a degree, so much scattered, and so
weak from want of sleep and food, that he abandon-
ed the idea of a night attack, and thought it more
prudent to spend the intermediate time till morn-
ing in refreshing and concentrating his forces.
Before the morning dawned, the Campbells, who
lay on the spacious plain below, became aware of
the presence and supervision of a hostile force,
though that it was headed by Montrose, was a sup-
position which never entered their minds. Under
the impression that it was only a party of the na-
tives which had assembled to protect the country
from their ravages, they laysecure in their bivouack,
or only skirmished by the clear moonlight with
the advanced guards and outposts which happen-
ed to approach them. A considerable part of their
army happened to lie upon the other side of the
deep and rapid Lochy, or of the arm of the sea
into which it fell;9 and such was the security of
Argyle, that he did not take pains to have that
segregated portion of his force united with the
other. It was not till the moment the sun rose,
when a shrill flourish of trumpets issued upon their

AND BATTLE OF IN VERLO CHY, I 3
cars from the dusky glen of the Nevis, that they
learned the real importance of the impending host,
and that it was commanded by the terrible Mon-
trose.”
It was, therefore, with no small alarm and sur-
prise, that the devoted Campbells at last arose and
arranged themselves for battle. To disconcert
them still more, their leader and chief, pleading a
hurt in his arm and face, which he had recently
got by a casual fall, and which disabled him for the
use of sword and pistol, retired on board his gal-
Jey, which lay moored on the narrow frith behind
them," proposing from thence to survey their con-
flict with the enemy, while his cousin, the soldier-
ly Auchinbreck, should become his substitute in
immediate command. The Highlanders have a
tradition, that at this moment, either from real fear,
or with an insidious design to procure time for
concentrating their forces and taking advantages of
ground, the Campbells dispatched a white flag
with a messenger, to request from the enemy half
an hour to consider terms of surrender. And it is
added, that Montrose had unthinkingly granted the
request, and was quietly awaiting the result of their
deliberations, when a quick-sighted Highland gen-
tleman, perceiving certain motions amongst them
which convinced him of the duplicity of their pro-
posal, exclaimed, “What I does my lord marquis
mean to let slip the opportunity he has gained of
attacking these men to advantage?” and proposed
to his companions that, without regard to Mon-
trose, who seemed either to be disposed to betray
them, or to have lost his accustomed penetration,
they should immediately make the onset, while it
was yet possible to do so with a chance of success.
According to the same tradition, Montrose instant-
VOL. II. B
| 4. RAVAGE OF A R GYLE,
ly called out to know, “Who was the daring ras-
cal that had thus endeavoured to subvert the dis-
cipline of the army P" But, before an answer could
be returned, Deors MacAlaster, for such was his
ordinary name, had broke away, along with a great
portion of the Highlanders, and was proceeding to
active conflict with the enemy. Alaster MacCol,
the major-general, only took time to say, in an-
swer to the marquis’s question, “He is a most
brave man, my lord; and, by God, I will rather
act with him than with thee ſ” before he also broke
off from his position, and with his men proceeded
to charge the Campbells. Being thus deserted by
the greater part of his troops, and seeing perhaps
that the fortune of the day would now depend
upon a vigorous charge, Montrose thought proper
to yield to the temper of his men, by leading for-
ward the remainder in person.
It was Sunday, the 2d of February, or Candle-
mas day, 1645, and the sun had just risen over the
shoulder of Ben-Nevis, when this advance was
made on the part of Montrose's troops, against the
bands of his inveterate but irresolute enemy Ar-
gyle. Taken as the latter were so completely
by surprise, and with a great portion of their
strength already cut off, they had before this pe-
riod drawn themselves up in a line of somewhat
formidable extent, the Highlanders in the centre,
and the Lowlanders at the various extremities,
while a small reserve stood behind on an eminence,
and a garrison of about fifty remained within the
neighbouring fortress of Inverlochy. The ground
on which they stood was perfectly level, being
simply that angle of the vale which was formed by
the junction of the river Lochy with the arm of
the sea called Loch Eil. Behind them, and still
AN D BATTLE OF IN VERLO CHY, } 5
nearer the embouchure of the river, Inverlochy cas-
tle, said to have been an early seat of the Cale-
donian monarchs, raised its vast square form in-
to the clear winter air; and behind that again, the
provision galleys, and that in which Argyle had ta-
ken shelter,” layupon the placid face of the estuary,
as if quietly waiting to witness the dreadful scene
which was to ensue.
It was perhaps a fatal circumstance for this de-
voted host, that they should have been kept at their
position to receive the attack of the enemy. If
they had been regular and experienced troops, such
a measure would have probably been the best, as
the leaders might have calculated upon their ha-
ving the fortitude to meet firmly and repel with
vigour the irregular charge of their antagonists.
But as they were themselves chiefly Highlanders,
and must have therefore been disposed to look
upon an attack as almost the only means of gain-
ing an advantage in battle, it would have certainly
been better to have given them an opportunity of
meeting charge with charge, so as to make the
chances of success equal on both sides. As the
case stood, they proved quite unable to withstand
the impetuosity of the foe which advanced upon
them. When they saw the disorderly bands of
Montrose issue at the sound of the trumpet from
the dusky glen before them ; when they saw their
uplifted weapons flashing under the rays of the
sum, as they rushed forward at full speed over the
intermediate stripe of level ground ; when they
heard the wild yell with which they accompanied
the discharge of their muskets, and made their
last spring forward to close in active conflict ; the
hearts of the stationary soldiers, unexcited by mo-
tion, as those of their enemies had been, fairly
16 RAVAGE OF ARGYLE,
sunk within them, and they might be said to have
lost the battle before it was commenced. The
greater part of them discharged their firelocks only
once against the royalists, and then, without ever
drawing blade, turned and fled in dismay. A few
only, and those in detached portions throughout
the field, waited for the charge, or made the least
attempt to contest the fortune of the day. They
also being soon overpowered, a few minutes saw
the whole of the Argyle army accumulated in a
confused and terrified mass upon the brink of the
loch, or else flying in irretrievable disorder along
its shore.
After the turn of the day, Montrose's men, only
three or four of whom had been wounded, found
easy work in chasing and cutting down the un-
happy Campbells ; and truly, there never was per-
haps an army, which, either victorious or defeated,
lost so great a proportion of its whole number in
battle, as did this unfortunate host at the fight, or
rather flight, of Inverlochy. In the first place,
those who crowded back upon the beach in the
hope of reaching the vessels, were almost without
exception slain or drowned. Those who fled along
the shore towards the south-west, were closely
followed, and great numbers of them overtaken
and slain. A party of about two hundred, who
made for the castle of Inverlochy, were diverted
from that place of refuge by a troop of Montrose's
horse, and either cut down, or driven back amongst
the rest upon the beach. A great number were
there endeavouring to reach their chief's vessel, by
means of the rope which attached it to the land,
when, the rope by accident giving way at the end
connected with the shore, all that were upon it
sunk at once into the sea and were drowned. Ar-
AND BATTLE OF IN VE IRLO CHY. 17
gyle himself, too much concerned for his own per-
son to attempt the succour of these ill-starred in-
dividuals, was no sooner certain of the fate of the
day, than he caused his sails to be raised, and, ex-
tricating his vessel from the midst of scores of his
dying kinsmen and clan who clung around it, bore
off down the loch to seek a more secure place of
shelter.
Such is the general outline of the battle of In-
verlochy, in which fifteen hundred of the losing
party, or a full half of their whole number, were
slain, almost without resistance, by an enemy who
did not at first reckon above a moiety of their nu-
merical force. It was one of the most complete
victories which Montrose ever gained, and also
one of the most important in its political conse-
quences; for it occasioned such a reflux of hope in
the breast of the king, that he immediately after-
wards saw fit to break off a treaty, which the pre-
vious gloom of his affairs had induced him to en-
ter into with his insurgent parliament, and once
more to declare for war. The Scottish parlia-
ment, which was sitting at the time, heard of the
battle with dismay, and immediately proceeded to
forfault and seize the estates of all the royalists
who had fought in it.” They were gratified, on
the 12th of February, with a visit from Argyle,
who, after ostentatiously riding up the High Street
of the metropolis with his arm hung in a scarf, as
at once an apology to the people for his conduct
in the battle, and a means of exciting compassion
for his mischances in the public service, appeared
before them, and gave as favourable an account as
the motorious circumstances of the case would per-
mit, of all that he had dome and suffered in their
behalf since he last parted with them. To conceal
B 2
18 RAVAGE OF A R GYLE,
as much as possible the extent of the calamity
from the public, they expressed the greatest satis-
faction with his lordship's services, and even ren-
dered him a public vote of thanks.” In prosecu-
tion of the same laudable end, Lord Balmerino
gave out in the General Assembly next day, that
there had not been above thirty men killed in the
late battle.” On hearing of the first two victories
of Montrose, they had thought proper to order a
day of solemn fast and humiliation throughout the
kingdom, as the best devisable method for bracing
the nerves of the nation to a renewal of the com-
bat; but having probably found that course rather
productive of the contrary effect, they now seem
to have adopted the plan pursued with such effect
in recent times by an insurrectionist of greater
magnitude—that of fairly denying defeat.
Highland tradition, upon which, in a sincere
conviction of its credibility, I have drawn for a
small part of the preceding narration, proceeds to
record several circumstances consequent upon the
battle, which may here also be given, as illustra-
tive of the spirit of the men who fought in it, and
as calculated to be generally interesting.
In the pursuit along the shore of Loch Eil,
which was continued the amazing distance of nine
Scottish or about fourteen English miles,” it hap-
pened that Deors or George MacAlaster, the brave
man who had commenced the battle, was also the
last to give up the chase. He was toiling up a
steep hill-side, in pursuit of two recreant Camp-
bells, when they, observing that he had left his
fellows far behind, took heart of grace, and resolved
to rush back upon and dispatch him. His situa-
tion being thus all at once changed from that of a
triumphant pursuer to the condition of an over-
AND BATTLE OF IN VEH L OCH Y. 19
matched antagonist, he seemed to be in such
danger, that a companion who was straining a good
way behind him, could not help exclaiming, as he
rushed forward to his rescue, “Oh the brave man
is lost ! the brave man is lost ſ” George, however,
who had already killed no fewer than twenty-one
of the enemy in active conflict, with his own hand,
was not destined to fall a sacrifice at last to a pair
of craven fugitives. Long before his friend came
up, he had killed his opponents with two successive
blows of his sword; though, such was his excessive
fatigue, or such the anxiety of his mind on the oc-
casion, that he dropped down in a swoon almost at
the same moment with the last of his antagonists.
When the chase was over, and all the men had
returned to the camp, it became necessary that they
should look about for the means of solacing them-
selves with the breakfast for which they might then
be supposed to have acquired so good an appetite.
Having accordingly got a certain quantity of food
scraped together, and being provided with a few
pots from the neighbouring hamlet, they were all
busily engaged in cookery, a small party seated in
expectation around every separate fire, when a man
came up, and, addressing one of these parties, pre-
ferred a request that they would resign their pot
in favour of Major-General Alaster MacCol, who,
it appeared, had somehow failed to procure one of
these indispensable articles, though he was quite as
anxious for his breakfast as any individual in the
army. The men naturally demurred at a request
which threatened them with the loss of their much-
wished-for meal; yet, as they entertained the warm-
est respect for MacCol, and were afraid, moreover,
to disoblige a man so high in command, they were
on the point of yielding up their pot, There was,
20 RAYAGE OF A R GYLE,
however, one person in the party, who had the
hardihood to oppose so mean a concession. This
was a man of the name of Robertson, of the family
of Calvine in Athole, and by trade a blacksmith; a
man of singularly athletic powers, a first-rateswords-
man, and one who could use his weapons with pro-
digious effect; who, it also afterwards appeared,
carried, under a boisterous external manner, a soul
of the greatest and most genuine modesty. Robert-
son exclaimed loudly against the proposal to sur-
render the pot, and even vowed that he would keep
it in spite of both his companions and MacCol.
“Tell the general,” he cried, addressing the mes-
senger, “that it was I who prevented you from get-
ting the pot. What " he added, turning in jest to
his companions, “ if he killed twenty men to-day,
I killed nineteen. If two more had come in my
way, I believe I would have beat him. As it is, I
think I am very nearly as good as he." The man
went to tell the general how unsuccessful he had
been in his mission, and to report what had been
said by the daring blacksmith. But MacCol, in
whose soul moungenerous feeling ever could find
way, only remarked that the man had justice on
his side and must be permitted to keep the pot;
after which, having succeeded in procuring a meal
by some other means, and being anxious to see a
man who had displayed so much activity in battle,
and afterwards bearded his commander in so extra-
ordinary a manner, he walked out in quest of him.
As he approached the spot where he had been given
to understand Robertson was seated, that indivi-
dual caught a glimpse of his person, and imme-
diately glided out of the way, to avoid a rencoun-
ter which he was afraid might involve him in dis-
agreeable consequences. Nevertheless, MacCol
AND BATTLE OF IN VERLO CHY. 2 I
followed and soon overtook him; when having de-
sired to know his name, the Highlander could only
be brought to answer, “Mine is not a worth name;
it is not fit, at least, to be named among those of
the many brave men who have fought to-day.”
Still MacCol insisted upon being told his desigma-
tion; when at length, after the question had been
several times repeated, Robertson thought proper,
in his modesty, to give this evasive and metaphor-
ical answer, “I am only a poor tinker among the
Athole men;" which he thought would be sufficient
to satisfy, or at least to parry, the curiosity of his
general.
MacCol's observation in reply was so emphatic
as to be still proverbial in the Highlands: “Strugg
o Dhee nach bu chaird gu lir phir A-ol n du !”—
“Would to God the Athole-men had been all tink-
ers this day!”
The general afterwards remarked, “I thought I
had done very well to-day in killing twenty of the
Campbells, but there was a man with a black dirk,
(meaning George MacAlaster,) who killed one
more, and, what is far more humiliating, here is an
Athole tinker who brought down only one less.”
The reader will scarcely fail to be surprised when
he is thus informed that three individual soldiers in
Montrose's army slew sixty men in battle for their
own hands. But when the prodigious strength and
spirit of these men is seriously considered, and in
contrast with the irresolution of the Campbells, his
wonder will in a great measure cease. To convince
him of the credibility of the fact, it may be men-
tioned, as a well-remembered peculiarity of Mac-
Col in particular, that he never required to strike
an enemy twice. He always fought with an im-
mense two-handed sword; and such were the skill
32 RAVAGE OF ARGYLE,
and strength with which he wielded his weapon,
that one blow was quite sufficient to bring down
any ordinary man. Upon the principle of “Ex-
ceptio firmat regulam,” it may even be recorded,
that there is one instance known by Highland tra-
dition, of his favouring an enemy with a second
stroke, and that was at this very battle, in the case
of a peculiarly strong Macgregor, who had hap-
pened to espouse the Argyle interest. If one stroke,
however, failed in this particular case, tradition has
been careful to observe, that the second proved far
more than sufficient.
Another anecdote has been preserved by High-
land tradition regarding the famous Alaster Mac-
Col, one less pleasing in its nature than that which
has just been related, but which is nevertheless
valuable, as strongly characteristic of the man,
and of the sort of society to which he belonged.
MacCol had been originally induced to command
the Marquis of Antrim's men in Scotland, mainly
by a desire of avenging by their means certain in-
juries which his family and himself had sustained
at the hands of the Campbells. The feeling of
hostility which he bore to that tribe, had been ra-
ther increased than diminished since his arrival in
Scotland; for, to mark their indignation at his
conduct under Montrose, a party of them had sei-
zed his nurse, at her house in the Western Islands,
and, with peculiar brutality, cut off one of her
breasts, telling her that such was no more than
she deserved, for having suckled so infamous a
traitor. By their means, moreover, his father, Col
Keitoch, and two junior brothers, were at this very
moment on their way to Edinburgh from the He-
brides, to be delivered up to the mercy of the
Scottish Estates. It seems to have been under the
AND BATTLE OF IN V E R LOC HY. 23
influence of an intense feeling of revenge, conse-
quent upon these atrocities, that he charged with
such inconsiderate enthusiasm, and fought with
such deadly effect, on the day of Inverlochy; and
it will be seen from a deed which he committed
after the heat of battle was passed, and which re-
mains to be recorded, that this dreadful passion
was not stilled in his bosom by all the carnage he
had that day achieved and witnessed.
Soon after the close of the fight, a party of men
who had pursued the chase for a considerable dis-
tance, brought up before their major-general a pri-
somer of no less distinction than Campbell of Auch-
inbreck, the experienced old soldier whom Argyle
had called over from Ireland to take a part in the
war, and to whom he had that day committed the
command of his men, when he himself retired on
board the galley. The unfortunate gentleman, on
being brought into the presence of MacCol, thought
proper to address him in a soothing strain, and
mentioned in particular the degree of relationship
in which they stood in regard to each other, ho-
ping, it would appear, by leading the conversation
into that channel, always so agreeable to a High-
lander, to divert his captor's thoughts from any re-
collection of their former differences, and, as a mat-
ter of course, to procure the better treatment from
him in his present unhappy circumstances. Mac-
Col, who at once saw his drift, and resolved not
to be carried away by it, replied to Auchinbreck's
genealogical references, that, if they had time, he
doubted not they might find a great deal to say
upon that subject, and to some purpose too. “In
the meantime,” he added, “ as I know you to be
a gentleman, both by family and profession—
Tigharm Claird or proprietorſ of Auchinbreck in
24 RAVAGE OF ARGYLE,
Scotland, and of Dunlir in Ireland—I mean to
confer a compliment upon you.” Auchinbreck ut-
tered a profusion of acknowledgments, and eager-
ly inquired in what that compliment was to con-
sist. “Co dhill s far lat d chroche no n chur
dhiot ?” thundered out MacCol: “Which of the
two will you prefer—to be hanged, or to have your
head cut off?”—“ Alas!” answered the unfortun-
ate Campbell, “ Dā dhill, gum aſ noen :” “Two
bads, without one choice;"—a saying which has
continued ever since proverbial in the Highlands.
The words were scarcely uttered when Alaster
MacCol, with one sweep of his huge sword, shear-
ed off the whole of his prisoner's head above the
ears, and Auchinbreck lay a lifeless corpse upon
the ground. It is invariably added by tradition,
that Auchinbreck had, by his previous conduct to-
wards MacCol, justified this violent and dreadful
act of revenge, so far as such an act may be es-
teemed capable of justification.
In conclusion it may be stated, that there were
killed at the battle of Inverlochy, besides their
commander Auchinbreck, and fifteen hundred pri-
vate men, no fewer than sixteen gentlemen and
officers of note, including Campbell of Lochnell,
his eldest son, and his brother Colin ; MacDougal
of Rara, with his eldest son, the provost of the
collegiate church of Kilmun ; the Laird of Glen-
saddel; and Major Menzies, brother to the Laird
of Achattens Parbreck. There were, moreover,
taken prisoners, besides many private soldiers, the
Laird of Innerea, the Laird of Parbreck, the Young
Laird (or heir-apparent) of Glensaddel, the Laird
of Silvercraig, the Laird of Lamont, the goodman
of Pynmoir, the Captain of Dunstaffnage, his son
Lieutenant-Colonel Cockburn ; Captains Stewart,
AND BATTLE OF IN VERLO CHY. 25
Murray, and Stirling; Robert Cleland, or Clyd-
son, and one Dougal, a preacher.” In opposition
to this immense loss on the part of the enemy,
Montrose had only to reckon three private men
killed, and one gentleman wounded. The last was
the Honourable Sir Thomas Ogilvie, son of the
Earl of Airly, who, having received a shot in his
thigh, died a few days after, as they were march-
ing through Badenoch, to the great grief of his
commander.
VOL. I. I. C,
2
6
THE IRET REAT OF D UN DE E.
CHAPTER II.
THE RET REAT OF D UNDEE,
Therefore I pray you stay not to discourse,
But mount you presently,
SHAKSPEARE.
THE battle of Inverlochy, as already stated,
struck a dreadful panic into the Estates assembled
at Edinburgh. It is supposed to have contributed
great assistance to the stone, in killing their presi-
dent the Earl of Lauderdale; and Baillie himself
acknowledges, that, had Montrose immediately
after come down into the Lowlands, he would have
found no opposition in the Lennox, in Clydesdale,
or in Ayrshire, “ yea even to the gates of Edin-
burgh. God,” he adds, with a feeling of infinite
thankfulness, “in mercy to us, put other thoughts
in his head. He incontinent marched northward.”
It would have perhaps been Montrose's best
policy to have seized this occasion for descending
upon the capital, and endeavouring to break up the
rebel government; because, although his army was
at present very small, the terrible character which
its repeated victories, and especially the last, had
acquired for it, would have probably compensated
in a great measure the want of numerical force, and
even perhaps disposed his opponents to yield to
him before his real strength was ascertained. He,
THE RETREAT OF D UN DEE. 27
however, considered, and he was certainly the best
judge of the case, that it would be better to employ
some little time before such a movement, in ma-
king the use of his last victory which he had origi-
nally caleulated upon when he determined to ha-
zard the battle —namely, to draw together the
loyal clans and families who had previously been
only prevented from joining him by their terror of
Argyle, but who, being now relieved from the do-
mination of that tyrant, would, he felt assured, im-
mediately flock to him, and, by their accession,
swell his army to such a respectable amount, as
would not only enable him to overwhelm the Scot-
tish parliament, but also prove of most material ser-
vice to the king in an expedition which he would
immediately afterwards undertake against his ene-
mies in England.
Led by such views, after having spent only two
or three days at Inverlochy, for the refreshment of
his men, and the securing of the spoil, he raised his
army, and, marching towards the north-east, de-
scended along the course of the Spey into the pro-
vince of Moray. The northern army which had
been collected to oppose him at Inverness, he re-
solved to pass unmolested, partly because he now
apprehended little annoyance from it, and part-
ly because he was unwilling to spend his time in
beleaguering a well-defended and well-provisioned
town, such as Inverness then was. He chose ra-
ther to direct his force against a great party of the
gentry of Moray and their attendants, which he
understood had been collected at Elgin, the capital
of the province, by the covenanting parliamentary
committee, with the intention of opposing him, or
at least of endeavouring to protect the country from
his ravages, but which he hoped to be able to draw
28 THE RETRYSAT OF D UN DEE.
over in a great measure to his own side when he
should appear before them.
As he advanced upon Elgin, a deputation came
to him from these gentlemen, “to deal with him,”
as it was phrased; in other words, to endeavour to
propitiate him towards their persons and estates.
But the only answer he could give them was, that
“he would accept any who would join with him
in his Majesty's service, and obey him as the royal
lieutenant." Before the answer could be returned
by their commissioners, they had all dispersed, and
every one shifted for himself."
He entered Moray “with displayed banners,”
sending before him in all directions a proclamation,
by which all the men of the province betwixt the
ages of sixteen and sixty were commanded to rank
under him for the king's service, under pain of being
proceeded against with fire and sword, as avowed
rebels. Under the terror of this denunciation, or
perhaps rather glad of it as a reason for deserting
the Covenant, the Laird of Grant, with three hun-
dred men, the Earl of Seaforth, the Lairds of Plus-
cardine and Losslyne, and Sir Robert Gordon of
Gordonstone, almost immediately joined him.
These were decidedly the most influential men in
the district; yet by far the greater part of the rest
still thought it their duty, or their safety, to hold
back. He was therefore under the necessity of ex-
ecuting military vengeance upon the houses and
estates of Grange-hill, Brodie, Cowbin, and Innes,
which respectively belonged to four recusant gen-
tlemen of great influence, as also upon the houses
of Ballendalloch, Foyness, and Pitchash, all of
which were the property of one gentleman of the
same description, the Laird of Ballendalloch. Be-
sides burning the houses and lands of these gentle-
THE RETRIEAT OF D UN DEE. 29
men, and taking away or destroying every thing
which they possessed in the shape of cattle or other
property, he plundered the village of Garmouth, and
the lands of Burgie, Lethen, and Duffus, and de-
stroyed all the boats and nets which he found upon
the river Spey.” He has been much blamed for
these devastations; but it ought to be recollected,
that he was only practising what was then and long
after considered the best method of reducing a re-
bellious country. It is, however, certain that he
was obliged, in many instances, much against his
own will, to allow of such proceedings, merely be-
cause he could not satisfy the men who required
license for them at his hands, by any more regular
mode of remuneration for their services. It would
be well if the historians who sound the charge
against him upon this subject, would look a little
more attentively at his circumstances, at the general
spirit of the age, and more especially at the previ-
ous conduct of his opponents, tyrannical as they
had been in imposing obnoxious oaths and duties
upon the people, and in levying from them an enor-
mous amount of men and taxes for the prosecution
of their own selfish and ill-starred enterprises.
As Montrose advanced to Elgin, the inhabi-
tants, at once indisposed towards his cause and
afraid of his troops, almost all fled to the castle
of Spymie, the strongest house in the province,
carrying their most valuable goods with them;
and such was the desolation of the town in conse-
quence, that the Fair of St Fasten's Eve, which then
usually gathered upon its streets a great part of
the inhabitants of the north of Scotland, was for
this year not held. To induce him to save the
town from conflagration, the magistrates gave him
four thousand merks, (about two hundred pounds,)
C 2
30 THE RETREAT OF D UN DEE.
but the common soldiers were so indignant at the
flight of the inhabitants, and the removal of their ef-
fects, that they could not berestrained from plunder.
On the very day he entered Elgin, February 19,
he was joined by Lord Gordon, the eldest son of
the Marquis of Huntly, who had last year given
him so much vexation by remaining with Argyle,
but who had now been induced, by the persuasion
of Archibald Gordon, by his own disgust at the
Covenanters, and by the crush which Argyle had
lately received, at length to declare for the cause
to which his affections and those of his family had
all along directed him. The marquis received this
young nobleman with a degree of joy proportion-
ed to his great personal merit, and to the value of
his family connexions; and he now made no doubt
of being speedily joined by the whole of that
powerful and spirited clan, whose services he had
been so repeatedly, from untoward circumstances,
disappointed in obtaining. Accordingly, he was
immediately after joined by Huntly's third son,
Lord Lewis Gordon, against whom he had had
the honour of fighting, only four months before, at
Aberdeen, but who had now, like his brother,
fairly resolved to shake off the uneasy bondage of
the Covenant; and he was informed that a great
part of the clan was in the very act of preparing
to follow the example of their brave young lead-
€TS.
Soon finding, therefore, that he had little to ex-
pect in Moray, but a great deal in Banffshire and
Aberdeenshire, Montrose thought proper, on the
4th of March, to leave Elgin and cross the Spey.
As he went, he sent forward parties to raise the
inhabitants, on the usual alternative of destruction
to the country; and thus the towns of Cullen and
THE RETREAT OF D UN DEE, 3 |
Banff, refusing to yield obedience, were unrelent-
ingly plundered. Before he had proceeded far,
learning that the garrison of Inverness was exe-
cuting the same species of vengeance upon the
estates of the Moray gentlemen that had joined
him, he generously permitted them all to go back
to defend their own possessions, only taking them
bound upon their parole, to continue faithful to
the king, or at least not to join the Covenanters.”
It must be recorded to the discredit of the Earl
of Seaforth, that he immediately broke this obli-
gation by reverting to the Covenanters, whom,
however, it appeared he had originally left with
reluctance.
At Strabogie or Gordon Castle, where Montrose
pitched his camp after crossing the Spey, he had
the misfortune to lose his eldest son Lord Graham,
a youth of sixteen, who had already displayed a
promise of greatness almost equal to his own, and
who had thus preferred accompanying his father
through the perils of his desultory campaigns, to
every other and securer mode of life. When he
had procured all the levies which Lord Gordon
was able to raise amongst his clan, about five hun-
dred foot, and a hundred and sixty horse, he mo-
ved forward through Banffshire, with the intention
of crossing the Dee and falling down upon the
Lowlands by the way of Angus. In passing, he
called at the House of Cullen, the lord of which,
(the Earl of Finlater,) he found, had left it in the
charge of his lady, to seek refuge amongst his fel-
low patriots at Edinburgh. His men instantly
plundered it of all its splendid furniture and plate,
and were about to set it on fire, when the count-
ess, for five thousand merks in hand, and the pro-
mise of fifteen thousand more, purchased a respite
32 'I'HE RETREAT OF D UN DEE.
of that part of its sentence for the space of fifteen
days.” It is mentioned by Spalding, to the credit
of the marquis, that, notwithstanding the great in-
fluence and zeal which the proprietor of this house
had exerted in the service of the Covenanters, he
did not destroy any of his lands.
Previous to the 17th of March, Montrose had
marched triumphantly, and without the least op-
position, through the whole county of Aberdeen,
marking his course, as in Banffshire, with the
flames of the property of his enemies. His first
stage from Banff was to Tureff, in the neighbour-
hood of which he destroyed sixty ploughs belong-
ing to the Viscount Fremdraught, together with al-
most all the movable property of the three parishes
of Inverkeithny, Forgue, and Drumblate, the house
of the minister of Forgue included. He then
marched by Inverury to Kintore, where he recei-
ved a great reinforcement of militia, which had
been raised by force for his service throughout
Aberdeenshire. An incident had in the meantime
occurred at Aberdeen, which occasioned him some
uneasiness.
He had sent Nathaniel Gordon to that city,
along with Donald Farquharson, a great Highland
adherent, and about eighty other well-horsed gen-
tlemen, to seize a quantity of the enemy's stores
lying there, and to keep a look-out for Baillie's
army, which he daily expected to approach him by
that route. They had executed their commission
so far, and finding no intelligence of the enemy,
were taking their ease in the town, when, some ini-
mical citizen having given notice of their unguard-
ed condition, Major-General Hurry, second in
command under Baillie, one evening arrived unex-
pectedly, with an hundred and sixty horse and

5
THE RETREAT OF D UN DEE, 3:
foot, at the gates of Aberdeen, and having first se-
cured the avenues of the town, immediately pro-
ceeded to fall upon the unsuspecting cavaliers,
many of whom they killed as they sat at wine,
while the rest only escaped with the greatest dif-
ficulty, to carry the news to Montrose's camp.
Amongst the slain was Donald Farquharson, “a
brave gentleman,” says Spalding, “ and one of the
greatest captains amongst all the Highlanders of
Scotland.” Hurry retired next day unmolested,
carrying with him a number of prisoners, who, as
traitors to the Covenant, were immediately con-
signed to the Tolbooth of Edinburgh. The fre-
quency of such incidents as this, during the course
of the civil war, serves to show that, although a
great deal of individual bravery was displayed at
every stage of its progress, and in every pitched
action, the belligerent parties mever to the end
learned to act with the cautious discretion of a re-
gular soldiery. -
The magistrates of Aberdeen, who had a few
days before obtained a promise from Montrose,
that their city should be no more subjected to the
license of his soldiers, took great pains to assure
him that they had no concern in this unhappy af-
fair, which they feared might bring down upon
them some terrible token of his wrath. He had
too strong a sense of justice, however, to confound
the innocent with the guilty, and too much gene-
rosity to make the matter a pretext, as other ge-
nerals might have done, (cum vulpe in fabula,) for
an exercise of indiscriminate vengeance. He was
obliged, it is true, at this time, to send a party to
the town to demand new clothing for his army,
which cost the inhabitants a tax of ten thousand
pounds Scottish money; but so anxious was he to
34 THE IRE TREAT OF D UN DEE.
preserve his word in regard to private depredations,
that he caused his men to be quartered at a little
distance without the walls, and, on a few of the
Irish remaining behind, to raise exactions on their
own private account, his major-general, MacCol,
came presently back, and, in Spalding's words,
“drove the rascals with sore skins out of the
town before him.”
From Kintore, Montrose marched forward, up-
on the 17th of March, to Durris, in the shire of
Kincardine, and from thence, on the 19th, to Stone-
haven, where he set himself to beat up the quar-
ters of the Earl Marischal. This nobleman, for-
merly his companion in arms, had now shut him-
self up in the strong castle of Dunottar, along
with no fewer than sixteen ministers and other per-
sons of consideration; irresolute, apparently, whe-
ther to continue faithful to the Covenant, or to go
over to the royalists, and only in the meantime
anxious for security while he should consider the
point in his own mind. Montrose, on the 20th,
sent a letter from Stonehaven to Dunottar, re-
quiring his lordship to come out and join him in
the king's service, or else remain where he was
“ upon his peril;" and Marischal was half dispo-
sed to accede to the former alternative, when un-
fortunately the ministers interfered, and persuaded
him to hold out. Montrose, immediately on re-
ceipt of his lordship's answer, which declared in a
neutral style, that “he would not be against the
country,” sent his men to plunder and burn the
lands of Dunottar: which they did with all their
customary promptitude and rigour, setting fire,
moreover, to the neighbouring town of Stonehaven,
as well as to all the fishing-boats which lay in the
harbour, Lord Marischal, from the walls of his
THE RETREAT OF DU N DEE, 35
castle, beheld the destruction which thus indiscri-
minately overtook his property, and that of his
tenants and dependents; and it is said, that the
sight produced such a change in his sentiments,
that he expressed regret for having refused to join
Montrose. But the celebrated Mr Andrew Cant,
who happened to be one of his garrison of minis-
ters, once more edified his first resolution, by tell-
ing him that the smoke which he saw ascending
from his worthless worldly goods, would be “a
sweet-smelling incense in the nostrils of the Lord!”
Before removing from this quarter of the coun-
try, Montrose also burnt the lands of Fetteres-
so, including an extensive deer-park, the innocent
inhabitants of which, although they fled at sight
of the flames, were unsparingly seized and slain.
He moreover burnt the village of Cowie, near
Stonehaven, as also the manse of the minister of
Dunottar. It is aremarkable feature of the campaign
in which he was now engaged, that he had no great-
er mercy for the property of the clergy than for
that of the secular persons who were obnoxious
to him. He perhaps considered that, as these per-
sonages had been in some measure the authors of
the war, or at least its prime managers, and as they
were now the most zealous and infuriate enemies
he had, it was but proper that they should suffer a
portion of the natural consequences of their indis-
creet zeal, and endure their share of his just resent-
Inent,
The Covenanting army, which Argyle had dis-
patched, in January, to fall upon Montrose's front,
while he himself came up in his rear, and which,
on learning the issue of the battle of Inverlochy, had
marched but very slowly, was now lying at Bre-
chin, under Baillie and Hurry, with the intention
36 THE lù ET REAT OF D UN DEE.
of intercepting the royalists in their descent upon
the Lowlands. It was considerably superior in
numbers, and particularly in horse, to Montrose's
army; but, although commanded by men of experi-
ence and gallantry, its strength was impaired and
its motions clogged to a ruinous degree by a com-
mittee of parliamentary civilians, which the Estates
had seen fit to impose upon the nominal command-
ers, as their supreme counsellors and guides.
Montrose, calculating that he would be obliged
to fight a pitched battle with this host before get-
ting down upon the low country, moved forward
to Fettercairn, a village about eight miles short of
their camp, where he proposed to rest till such
time as they should betray their intentions by some
movement. While he was lying here, Hurry, who
had the command of the horse, came out with six
hundred of his troopers, to inspect the condition,
and if possible ascertain the numbers, of the royal
army. Montrose got early intelligence of his ap-
proach, and prepared for it by placing the few
horse he had (under two hundred) on a conspicu-
ous place in advance of his camp, with a strong
body of his best musketeers behind in a hollow.
Hurry, seeing only the horse, made no scruple to
attack a troop apparently so much inferior to him
in strength; but Montrose then brought out his
concealed musketeers, and gave him a reception so
different from what he expected, that he at once
ordered a retreat. The Covenanting troopers were
dreadfully frightened, and retired in great confu-
sion; but Hurry, who, though a mere soldier of
fortune, was a man of singular bravery and con-
duct, protected them so well by fighting in their
rear, that they got over the North Esk, and return-
ed to the camp at Brechin, with little real damage.
THE RETREAT OF D UN DEE, 37
For some days after this remcounter, no move-
ment was made by either army; a mutual respect
for each other's strength and character apparently
inspired both commanders with a reluctance to
give or provoke battle. At length, Montrose con-
ceived the idea of eluding Baillie, and getting into
the Lowlands without fighting him. He was only
obliged, before executing such a project, to send
back the greater part of the Gordons to their own
country, to protect it from the vengeance which
Baillie might then be at liberty to execute upon it."
Having dome this, he passed, with the remainder of
his army, along the skirts of the Grampians, to-
wards Dunkeld, where he intended to cross the
Tay. Baillie made no direct attempt to stop him ;
but, hovering on his flank, contented himself with
preserving such a position as seemed sufficient to
prevent him from making his intended descent.
The two armies paused for two days opposite to
each other, (March 29 and 30, ) on the different
banks of the river Isla; and Montrose sent a
trumpeter to Baillie, proposing either to permit
him to cross the water, for the purpose of fighting
a pitched battle, or that Baillie should allow him
to go over to the other side for the same purpose,
the stationary party in either case engaging upon
his word of honour to abstain from attacking the
other till he should declare himself ready to fight.
But to this proposal, so much in the spirit of an-
cient chivalry, Baillie only replied, with character-
istic surliness, that he would “ look to his own
business himself, and did not require other men to
teach him when to fight.” The armies then pro-
ceeded on their former route, Montrose towards
Dunkeld, and Baillie towards Perth, which they
both reached about the same time. When Mon-
VOL. II. D 2
38 THE RETREAT OF D UNDE E.
trose thus saw that he could not well get into the
Lowlands without encountering the Covenanting
army, he resolved to keep close to the mountains,
and only to harass the enemy by those occasional
and desultory sallies which his adherents were
sure to manage with dexterity and success.
The very first expedition of this sort which he
undertook, was one which showed his own ad-
dress and that of his men in a very striking point
of view. Being informed by his scouts that the
Covenanters had gone south to the fords of Forth,
there to intercept the passage which they believed
he still designed to make over that river into the
south of Scotland, he suddenly conceived the de-
sign of making an infall, or onslaught, as the
phraseology of the times variously termed it, upon
the town of Dundee, which, by reason of the south-
ward march of the enemy, happened to be left
completely exposed and unprotected. According-
ly, upon the evening of the 3d of April, having first
sent off all the weakest of his men, together with
his baggage, to Brechin, he himself led an hundred
and fifty horse and six hundred picked musketeers
down upon that city, which, by marching all night,
he reached about ten o'clock next forenoon. Dum-
dee, which was then one of the largest and most
opulent towns in Scotland,” had previously excited
the enmity of Montrose by its general zeal in the
opposite cause, and particularly by its refusal to
admit him after the battle of Tippermuir. Its
citizens were destined, on the present occasion, to
give still another and perhaps deeper cause of of
fence, by imprisoning the drummer whom he sent
to summon them to surrender. When he learned
that they had put this affront upon him, he at once
granted the permission which his men desired, to
THE RETREAT OF D UNDEE. 39
fall upon the town, and treat it with the extremi-
ty of military execution. Under the command of
Lord Gordon and Alaster MacCol, they attacked
it in three places simultaneously: the citizens fired
cannon from their ports, and made otherwise as
stout a resistance as possible; but nothing could
withstand the fury of the soldiery, flushed as they
were at once with indignation and cupidity. A few
minutes saw the town completely in the hands of
the assailants. A scene of plunder and outrage
then commenced, such as humanity shudders to
contemplate, but which must nevertheless, it is to
be feared, always form part of the consequences of
a civil war. The church and market-place were
at once broken open and plundered. The houses
of the citizens, and especially their wine-vaults,
were next ransacked; and finally, fire was put to
the town on its east and north quarters, and a
great portion of it, including the whole of the dis-
trict called the Bonnet Hill, burnt down. The
sack continued till late in the afternoon, when at
length a period was put to it by an unexpected
OCCRll'TGIACé.
Montrose had not himself taken any part in the
scene. He contented himself with surveying it
from the top of the neighbouring hill called Dun-
dee Law. He was there quietly waiting till his
men should have completed their dreadful work,
when suddenly his scouts came up, almost breath-
Jess with haste, to inform him, that, instead of
having gone over the Tay towards the Forth, as
was supposed, the Covenanteys were marching as
fast as they could down the Carse of Gowrie, to
the relief of Dundee, having in reality never yet
gone a foot farther south than Perth. Such was
too truly the case. These scouts, with culpable
40 THE RET REAT OF D U N DEE.
negligence, had mistaken an apparent intention for
a real transaction, and brought their master infor-
mation that the Covenanters were gone to the
Forth. after having only seen a few of them cross
over the Tay : Intelligence of this attack upon
Dundee had reached them soon after it took place;
and Baillie had then hastily put himself at the head
of two regiments of horse, and, commanding his
foot to follow as fast as possible, had set off at the
gallop to the relief of the town. He was within
two miles of Montrose's position at the time the
scouts came to communicate the akarming news.
A council of war was immediately held on the
top of the Law, at which various proposals for the
conduct of the army under such distressing circum-
stances, were hastily proposed and warmly dis-
cussed. Some counselled that the officers and the
horse should immediately ride off, leaving the foot
to their fate, conceiving it to be impossible to bring
off the latter by any means, as they were both fa-
tigued with the morning's march, and overwhelm-
ed with the drink and prey which they had got in
the town. Others proposed that, as they con-
ceived the case to be desperate, they should all
united stand out against General Baillie, and only
endeavour to sell their lives as dearly as they
could. Montrose, however, rejected the first of
these proposals as ungenerous, and the other as
rash. He had resolved in his own mind upon a
different course. Having commanded a retreat to
be sounded, and the men to be called out of the
town, he went down himself, made a selection of
the weakest and most inebriated, sent them off in
advance, and finally he himself, with the horse and
best musketeers, closed the rear. The route which
he chose was not the most direct for the hills, or
| THE RETREAT OF D UN DEE. 4. I
for the position of his main body, but lay in the
direction most nearly opposite to that in which his
enemies were advancing.
It was six o'clock, and the evening was just
closing in. when he commenced his retreat. Al-
most at the same instant, Generals Baillie and
Hurry entered with their whole army, horse and
foot, at the other extremity of the town. A con-
siderable space of time had elapsed between the
alarm and the real approach of the troops; for Bail-
lie, although he came nearer the town much sooner
with his horse, thought proper to wait till he should
be reinforced with his foot, before he made the at-
tack; and thus Montrose's men had got time to
collect and retire. Baillie, however, no sooner ar-
rived, and learned from some prisoners the num-
bers and route of the royalists, than he ordered his
army to be divided into two parts, one of which
should make a circuit and endeavour to get a-head
of the fugitives, while the other came up directly in
the rear; an arrangement which, he expected, would
be attended with their complete destruction. To
animate his men to the work, he told them that
twenty thousand crowns should be the reward of
the brave fellow who brought him Montrose's
head. -
The Covenanters immediately set out upon their
various duties; and it was to have been expected,
when the number and circumstances of Montrose's
men were considered, that they would fall an easy
prey to so powerful a force. The advantages of
the two armies were, however, more nearly balan-
ced than they appeared to be. The royalists,
though few, were picked men ; they were, more-
over, although in retreat, extremely confident.
Baillie's men, on the other hand, were not inspi-
D 2
42 THE RET REAT OF D C N DE E.
*
red with a very strong desire of doing battle with
the terrible warriors they were called upon to pur-
sue. Nor were the commanders themselves una-
nimous in counselling an attack. Hurry, who
commanded the horse, with which that attack
should have been made, expressed aversion to such
a movement, and failed to take the necessary mea-
sures for accomplishing it. Thus it happened, that
although a great tumultuary force went in pursuit
of Montrose, there was no decisive order given for
the movement of the men, and no concerted mea-
sures laid down for their various evolutions. They
made several attacks upon the rear of Montrose's
host, and endeavoured to assail it in other direc-
tions, but they were invariably received with so
sharp and destructive a fire, were, moreover, so
much fatigued with their march, and so much per-
plexed by the darkness of the night and the irre-
solution of their leaders, that instead of making
any serious impression, they were soon obliged to
retire, and leave Montrose to pursue his way un-
disturbed.
Montrose reached Arbroath, a town seventeen
miles east from Dundee, long before day-break.
His men had then marched about fifty miles, and
existed nearly two days, without rest or sleep. It
might have been expected, that, utterly unable to
resist the force of nature any longer, they would
have now sunk exhausted in slumber, without re-
gard to the fate which might overtake them before
they should awake. To have yielded, however, in
any such way to their sensations, was seen by
Montrose to involve certain destruction, their po-
sition being now such that Baillie could easily se-
parate them from their main body at Brechin, and
either cut them down at leisure in the morning
THE RET REAT OF D UN DEE. 43
with the sabres of his troopers, or drive them into
the equally unsparing sea. He saw it to be neces-
sary for their salvation, that before morning they
should make still another forced march. He point-
ed out the necessity to them, and called upon them
to brace their nerves for the undertaking. They
fortunately were possessed of sufficient firmness
and enthusiasm to encounter the task, dreadful as
it was.
The march which he determined upon was cer-
tainly, when its direction is considered, one of the
strangest and most adventurous ever projected or
achieved by any general. Instead of stealing north-
ward along the coast, in the direction most remote
from the position of his enemies, as almost any
other commander would have done under similar
circumstances—instead of flying in a line at all
calculated to lead him away directly from what he
had most to dread, he turned short about from the
gates of Arbroath, made almost a right angle with
his former course, led his men in a north-westerly
direction, right athwart the county of Forfar, and,
before morning, got across the South Esk at Ca-
riston Castle, where he was within three or four
miles of the Grampian hills. Baillie had mean-
while drawn his army round towards the north,
and had taken up his quarters for the night at For-
far, a point from which he conceived he should
be able to command Montrose at Arbroath, so that
he supposed he would have nothing else to do but
fall down upon him at his leisure in the morning,
in order to make root and branch work of himself
and his miserable little band. But several hours
before this calculated period of vengeance arrived,
his devoted victims had passed close by his very
side, got away half an ordinary day's march beyond
44 THE RETRE AT OF O U N DE E.
him, and, setting their backs to the firm wall of
the Grampians, were able to put both his pursuit
and his attack at defiance. A glance at the map of
Scotland will enable the reader more fully to com-
prehend how completely Montrose had thus eluded
his enemy, and by what a prodigious exertion.
When the royalists reached Cariston, they had
traversed about seventy miles of rough and diffi-
cult country, chiefly in the dark, and without rest
or sleep. It may be supposed that, when they at
length were enabled to stop with safety, they
would enjoy the refreshment so necessary to them
with peculiar zest. It was, accordingly, with no
small vexation, that they were roused during the
course of the day from their hard but agreeable
repose, by intelligence of the approach of the ene-
my. Baillie had no sooner learned the evasive
trick Montrose had played him, than, thinking yet
to overtake him, he got his troops in motion from
Forfar; and such was the haste he made, that his
horse were in sight of Montrose's bivouac before
that general was aware. The men were imme-
diately roused from their lairs, though not without
such difficulty that many did not awake even when
pricked with swords;” and in a few minutes the
whole were once more in motion towards the hills.
By retiring three miles farther into the recesses of
Glenesk, he at length reached a place where he
could not possibly be approached; and Baillie
then saw fit to abandon the pursuit altogether.
It must be mentioned, that in the meantime the
main body of the royalists, which had been placed
at Brechin while Montrose made his attack upon
Dundee, having received timely notice of the ap-
proach of Baillie's army, was also by this time
safe from pursuit, along with all the baggage, in
THE RETRE.A.T OF D UN DEE. 45
some other recesses of the Grampians, from which
they were easily able next day to form a junction
with their general.
Montrose had thus accomplished a retreat, which
for boldness of design, and masterliness of execu-
tion, not to speak of its innumerable difficulties
and dangers, might vie, says one of his historians,
with any such military transaction on record. The
Covenanters looked upon the affair as a sort of
victory, merely, it would appear, in consideration
of the circumstance, that their generals had cau-
sed “ the great rebel” to fly; and Baillie devoutly
terms it in his Letters a pleasant “blink” of God
upon benighted Scotland. But Montrose, by the
extraordinary skill and exertion which enabled him
to set at nought an enemy who ought properly to
have devoured him, had in reality the only honour
in the transaction. If the thing could be at all a
question, Bishop Wishart has since set it at rest
by recording, that among the most experienced
officers on the Continent, he had frequently heard
the retreat of Dundee preferred, as an exhibition
of generalship, to Montrose's greatest and most
hard-won victories,
46 THE BATTLES OF
CHAPTER III.
THE BATTLES OF AUL DEARN AND ALFORD.
—— One to ten
Lean raw-boned rascals ; who would e'er suppose
They had such courage and audacity ?
SHAKSPEARE.
THE subsequent proceedings of the armies, how-
ever, and of the Parliamentary Committee, proved
incontestably the advantage which Montrose had
gained by the affair. The latter body, in whose
hands lay at this period the whole management of
the kingdom, having now apparently lost all hope
of suppressing Montrose by their present superior
army, sent over to Ireland an order for another
thousand of the disciplined troops which they kept
there. Till they should arrive, Baillie and Hurry
were commanded to dispose themselves only in
such a way as seemed most likely to protect the
Lowlands, in the meantime, from the ravages of
Montrose. Baillie was to remain with the greater
portion of the army at Perth, to defend the passes
to the capital and the southern shires; while Hurry
was to go northward to Moray, at the head of a
smaller portion, with which, being joined by the
garrison of Inverness and all possible volunteer ad-
herents of the Covenant, it was hoped he would be
able to prevent the arch-enemy from making an-
other descent upon that portion of Lowland terri-
A U L DEA R N AND ALFOR. D. 4.7
tory. By thus, as it were, drawing a chain of gar-
risons round the Highland frontier, they virtually
acknowledged themselves reduced, for the present,
to the miserable expedient of acting on the de-
fensive.
Montrose was, on the other hand, wonderfully
little concerned at his confinement in the High-
lands. He could have easily called up the great
body of the Highland clans, most of which had,
since the battle of Inverlochy, been absent upon
furlough ; and then he could have made a vigo-
rous and in all probability a successful push at
some of the Lowland points which his enemies were
so anxious to defend. But he preferred, for some
unknown reason, the alternative of lurking in his
fastnesses. He even consented, at this moment,
to permit the remainder of his Aberdeenshire and
Moray allies, under the command of Lord Gordon,
to go home for the defence of their country from
the ravages of Hurry. He seemed content in the
meantime to attenuate his force to the smallest
possible degree, and to assume as gentle and ula-
alarming an appearance as he considered safe ; pos-
sibly upon the principle of the great Indian snake,
which is said to starve itself down to the utmost
tenuity of form, only that it may be able to make
the surer and deadlier spring upon its contem-
plated prey.
While in this slender and obscure condition, he
executed one little enterprise in the face of the
enemy which was not without its merit as a piece
of generalship. Learning by letter that the Lord
Aboyme, second son of the Marquis of Huntly,
had, with other noblemen and gentlemen to the
amount of about thirty, broken out of Carlisle,
through the Parliamentary troops them besieging
48 THE BATTLES OF
it, and were now journeying towards him through
the Lowlands of Scotland, he resolved to descend
towards some point as near the low country as
possible, where he might meet, and give all the
protection in his power to a band which had dis-
played so much romantic gallantry for his sake.
Having previously concerted measures with his
major-general, the faithful MacCol, he took with
him all the force which he now retained about him,
reckoning, it is said, only five hundred foot and
fty horse,) and, thus attended, he wheeled round
by Dunkeld to Crieff, a point where he was as near
the Lowlands as Baillie was at Perth, and from
which he could have easily, had he wished, made
the descent which that general was commissioned
to prevent. It was only when he had reached that
town, which is seventeen miles directly west from
Perth, that Baillie became apprised of his adventu-
rous movement. It was immediately seen neces-
sary, however, by the Parliamentary Committee,
that an attack should be made upon him before he
got any farther south. This Baillie resolved to at-
tempt by night, so as to give him, if possible, a
sort of counter-surprise. Montrose was, however,
careful on this occasion, somewhat contrary to his
general practice, to guard against such a move-
ment. Getting timely notice of the march of the
Parliamentary army, he roused and arrayed his
little band, so as to fit them for either a fight or a
retreat ; and he then rode forward himself, with a
troop of horse, to ascertain the strength in which
the enemy was moving. On approaching them, he
discovered that they were in full force, and about
five times his own strength ; so, immediately riding
back to Crieff, he commanded his foot to dive with
all expedition into the wild fastness at the head of
A ULDE AIRN AND ALFORD. 4.9
Stratherme, which was only eight or ten miles west
from their present position, while he with the horse,
by remaining behind, should take care to protect
them from the fast-advancing cavalry of the enemy.
This retreat was managed with his customary
address. The foot, marching on as fast as they
could, soon reached that marrow pass at the outlet
of Loch Erne, which he had indicated as their
place of refuge. He himself covered their rear
with his handful of horse, repeatedly charging
back upon and repelling the enemy, when they
approached too near. After retiring behind the
pass, he of course was safe from all farther annoy-
ance, or the possibility of it, by merely planting a
small band to sentinel the foot-path. He took up
his quarters for the ensuing might upon the pleasant
banks of Loch Erne.
On the succeeding day, April 19, he proceeded
from Loch Erne through Balquhidder, to Monteith;
and there, at the ford of Cardross, he had the satis-
faction of meeting the gallant little band which he
had come to protect. It comprised, besides the
Viscount Aboyne, the Master of Napier, Stirling
of Keir, and Hay of Dalgetty.
While at this southerly point, he ran a great
risk of being cut off from all recess to the High-
lands by Baillie's army; but he had provided for
that contingency. Just as they were about to
close in behind him from Stratherne, they were
suddenly called away in quite an opposite direc-
tion, by intelligence that, during their temporary
absence from Perth, Alaster MacCol, with two
hundred Highlanders, had broke down upon the
Campbells in the lordship of Cupar-Angus, and
upon the lands of the Arch-Covenanter Lord Bal-
merinoch, the whole of which he had spoiled and
V () L. II. T
Ö0 THIS BAT TLES OF
burnt, killing moreover the minister of Cupar, and
routing a troop under Lord Balcarras, which, hap-
pening to lie in the neighbourhood, had endea-
voured to interrupt his ravages. The diversion
thus skilfully produced, not only relieved Mon-
trose from all danger of being enclosed in Monteith,
but also enabled him to perform an expedition
which he now found to be necessary, but which
must have otherwise been attended with peculiar
difficulty.
This expedition was occasioned by the distress
in which Lord Gordon was at this period involved
in the north country, by the advance of Hurry.
When Montrose learned what was going on in
that quarter—that Hurry was plundering the coun-
try, and threatening the whole clan Gordon with
destruction—he adopted the resolution of march-
ing directly north, at once for the purpose of protect-
ing these valuable friends, and that he might have
a chance of crushing the northern Covenanting force
by one blow, which he knew he could never ex-
pect to do if it should be joined to the army now
lying in Perthshire. While Baillie, therefore, was
vainly seeking to punish MacCol for his infall upon
Cupar-Angus, Montrose went directly northward,
through Strath Tay and Athole, to the head of
Aberdeenshire, raising the Highlanders everywhere
as he went along, and receiving back to his stand-
ard the very adherent of whom the Presbyterian
general was in search; neither Baillie being in the
meantime aware of his departure, nor Hurry ap-
prised of his advance. On one of the first days of
May he descended upon Auchindown, where Lord
Gordon had taken refuge; joined the forces of
that nobleman, amounting in all to about fourteen
hundred ; and then, before Hurry was aware of his
6
A U L DEARN AND AL FO ſº D. 5 l
being over the Grampians, he suddenly appeared
behind him at his position on the plaims of Stra-
bogie.
Hurry, (who had only about a thousand foot
and six hundred horse,) on learning that Montrose
had approached so near him and with a superior
force, was seized with a dreadful panic, and imme-
diately made all the haste he could towards Inver-
ness, for the purpose of strengthening himself by
the north country Highlanders, and other troops,
which for some time had been rendezvoused there.
Montrose followed fast upon his heels through
Elgin and Forres; but he was enabled to make
good his retreat by the darkness of the night and
the superiority of his cavalry.
On reaching Inverness, and being reinforced by
the troops lying there, he all at once became an
overmatch for Montrose, and changed his defen-
sive for an offensive aspect. He marched back the
very next day to Nairn, designing with his whole
host to attack Montrose, who, he learned, had set
himself down at a village three or four miles to the
eastward, called Auldearn. Montrose would now
have willingly avoided battle; but, learning that
Baillie was rapidly following him through the
Highlands, and seeing that he would soon have
two armies instead of one to encounter, he was
obliged to brace his nerves to a meeting with
Hurry, for the purpose of suppressing him in the
first place, and thereby reducing the aggregate of
enemies which threatened, otherwise, soon to over-
whelm him. He therefore retained his position at
Auldearn. It was on the 4th of May, or, accord-
ing to various authorities, the 9th, (1645,) that the
two armies came in sight of each other.
The odds against which Montrose had to con-
52 THE BATTLES OF
tend on the present occasion, were much greater,
if not in numerical force, at least in real strength,
than in any of his former battles. The general op-
posed to him was here for the first time one of com-
plete military experience; the army for the first time
contained a respectable proportion of disciplined
men. Hurry's army consisted of five regular regi-
ments; Lothian's and Loudoum's, which he had car-
ried north with him; Lawers's (that is, Campbell
the Laird of Lawers's) which he found in garrison
at Inverness; and two which the Earls of Suther-
land and Seaforth had sent down to him from their
remote and hyperborean territories; besides several
irregular bodies formed by the Frasers, Rosses,
Munroes, MacIntoshes, and other Covenanting clans,
and by the retainers of the Earl of Finlater, the
Laird of Innes, the Lairds of Boyne and Birkenbog,
and various other Moray and Aberdeenshire gentle-
men, who assumed the same side. It amounted al-
together to the sum of three thousand five hundred
foot and about six hundred horse.
Montrose, on the other hand, had only about fif-
teen humdred foot and two hundred horse; for, al-
though he first appeared in the province with more,
almost all the Highlanders had since then been
obliged to go home, to protect their country from
the ravages which they learned that Baillie was
making upon it in his progress northward. He
thus reckoned something under one to two in the
matter of foot, and about one to three in point of
horse. To diminish still farther his chance of suc-
cess, his present army did not entirely consist of
the practised and confident warriors who had
achieved such wonders with him at Tippermuir,
Aberdeen, and Inverlochy; but was at least half
composed of the Gordons and other allies of recent
AUL DEA RN AND ALFORD. 53
accession, who had never yet stood fire against any
enemy. It would have been, however, a truly pro-
digious disadvantage, which this singularly gifted
general could not overcome.
He seems to have calculated for success, in this
battle, almost entirely on generalship and artifice.
In the first place, he chose a peculiarly excellent
position, and made an exquisitely skilful arrange-
ment of his troops. The ground he selected was
a sort of hollow behind or to the east of the ridge
on which stands the village of Auldearm, and behind
various other heights, which stretch northward from
that village towards the house of Both. He ar-
ranged his army in two wings or divisions. One,
consisting of the Gordons and the horse, he placed
on the left, to the south of the village; the other,
comprehending the Irish and Highlanders, he ar-
ranged on the right, amidst the gardens and en-
closed fields to the north of Auldearm. The former
he commanded in person, with Lord Gordon under
him; the latter was given to the charge of Alaster
MacCol. The entire village, intervening betwixt
the two bodies, was only occupied by a few foot,
who, however, displayed a number of banners, and
passed off for a main body. He gave the charge
of the royal standard—a large yellow banner—to
MacCol, in the expectation that it would induce
the enemy to attack him with their best regiments;
in which case, as they were sure to be difficulted in
charging, by the nature of the ground on which
MacCol was placed, he calculated upon deciding
the day by attacking their flank obliquely with his
left wing at the moment of distress, when the whole
were almost sure of being thrown into irremediable
confusion.
The battle turned out almost exactly as he had
E 2
54 THE BATTLES OF
calculated. Hurry, on approaching, found it total-
ly impossible to comprehend the arrangements of
an enemy who had taken up so mysterious a posi-
tion, but was induced by the sight of the royal
standard on the right wing, to direct his strength
chiefly upon that point. His men not only met
there with a warm reception from MacCol, but pre-
sently became confused by reason of the enclosures
and ditches through which they had to make their
charge. When Montrose saw them in that condi-
tion, he brought forward the left wing, which, by
an arrangement similar to that of Epaminondas at
Leuctra, was much the strongest, and made a furi-
ous flank attack upon the great mass of the Cove-
manting enemy. This, being chiefly composed of
raw Highland foot, probably averse to the cause,
was quite unable to withstand the charge of the
Gordon chivalry, led as it was by such men as
Montrose, Lord Gordon, and the brave Sir Natha-
niel. Hurry saw the advantage his opponent had
gained, and endeavoured to neutralize it by order-
ing his whole horse to the support of the wavering
lines on his right. But the commanding officer—a
Captain Drummond—either through treachery or
stupidity, misapprehended the order, and, wheeling
to the left instead of the right, only threw the dis-
ciplined regiments who were contending with Mac-
Col into greater confusion.
This is but an outline of what took place: A
number of circumstances remain to be detailed.
Just as the engagement was about to commence,
Lord Gordon had dispatched a messenger to Alas-
ter MacCol on the opposite wing; reminding him of
a contract which had anciently been made between
their families, to the effect that, in case of civil dis-
order, neither should appear in arms against the
A UI, DEA IN N AND ALFO It O. 55
other; and proposing that at this interesting mo-
ment, when he (Lord Gordon) was on the point of
fighting his firstbattle, they should renew the league,
by exchanging into each other's command a portion
of each other's troops. MacCol, immediately agree-
ing to the proposal, sent ninety of his tried soldiers
to Lord Gordom, who, in return, sent three hundred
of his men to MacCol. But, says the Red Book
of Clanranald, which records this strange transac-
tion, it was a bad exchange to MacCol; for these
men, who were never engaged in war before, and
who entertained an idea that they could not act
without horse to protect them, behaved but very
poorly in the ensuing conflict. “Alaster,” con-
tinues this minute chronicler, “perceiving when he
drew up his men that he had only a hundred and fifty
of his own soldiers, put twenty of them in the front
rank, and twenty-five in the second rank, and drew
up the three hundred Gordons in the middle; and
he himself marched before the whole. The regi-
ment immediately opposed to them was that of the
Laird of Lawers, men tried in arms, and the valiant
gentlemen, the Mackenzies of Lewis, along with
them. A stout battle ensued, as is usual in such
situations; but the Gordons not being accustomed
to such hard work, as soon as they heard the
whistling of a ball, or the sound of an arrow, they
bowed their heads or turned away from it. When
MacCol perceived that, he went always back, and
beckoned them with his hand to take courage and
keep order; but they were hard put to, and I my-
self knew certain men who were obliged to kill
some of them to prevent their flight. When the
ememy perceived that, they set upon them furious-
ly. Alaster therefore ordered them back to the en-
closure which they had forsaken before; but the
§6 THE BATTLES OF
pikes and arrows of the enemy galled them much,
and killed a great number of them on both sides of
the wall, before they got into the enclosure.”
The truth is, if Bishop Wishart is to be believed,
Montrose had ordered MacCol to keep within the
enclosures where he was placed, and attempt no
more than to defend his position, so as to keep that
wing of the enemy in play while he should endea-
vour to overwhelm them by a flank charge with the
troops under his own command. MacCol, in whose
bravery much rashness was mingled, had permitted
himself to be drawn forth from his secure fastness,
by the insulting language of the enemy; and the
consequences of his movement might have been fa-
tal, but for his own indomitable spirit and the ad-
dress of his general. That great man, being in-
formed by a messenger of the condition to which
MacCol had reduced himself, immediately put on
a cheerful countenance, and, shouting to the men
that MacCol was engrossing all the glory of the
victory by his conduct on the right wing, called
upon them to push forward after him, and endea-
vour to obtain a share of what was going. Inspired
by his address, they made the charge which has
been already described, and that with such force
and effect, as, joined to the mistake of Captain
Drummond, restored the balance of advantage
which MacCol had lost, and decided the fortune
of the day. -
To pursue the recital of MacCol's behaviour,
which has been given with much minuteness by
the Clanranald bard: When retiring with his men
to the enclosures which they had so injudiciously
quitted, this brave captain moved behind all the
rest, his back towards his own position, and his
face to the foe, as if anxious to intercept with his
A UL DEARN AND ALF iſ) R.D. 57
own person all the danger he had been the means
of bringing upon his men. As the enemy pressed
on him, and endeavoured to kill him with their
pikes, he received their thrusts upon the target
which he bore on his left arm, while with his
broadsword he hewed away, either at the persons
of his assailants, or at the weapons which they di-
rected against him. The line of his retreat fortu-
mately lay through a narrow lane, so that only a
few of the enemy could assail him at once, and
these few only in front. Their long pikes, how-
ever, would have certainly enabled them to dis-
patch him, if he had not possessed the amazing
strength of arm which has already been mentioned
as one of his chief military qualifications. By dint
of this strength, he cut off the heads of all the
weapons presented to him, sometimes more than
one at a time, and by one particular stroke, as is
credibly reported, no fewer than five.
Before he got all the men back into the enclo-
sure, his sword broke; but he immediately got an-
other from his brother-in-law, Davidson of Ardna-
cross, and with it continued to defend himself. He
at last got into the enclosure, but not without lea-
ving out a brave companion in arms, named Ro-
nald Mackinnon. This man continued to defend
himself for some time with great resolution, hew-
ing away at the pike-heads, in much the same way
that MacCol had done ; but he was at length trans-
fixed in the breast with five points at once, and
had his tongue pinned to his cheek by an arrow.
When MacCol saw his condition, he advanced
once more beyond the enclosure, and having first
struck off the head of one foeman with his sword,
soon succeeded in getting the wounded man drag-
ged within the gate, after which the whole were
58 THE BATTLES OF
safe for the time, except from the arrows of the
enemy which fell among them. MacCol lost se-
veral men in this sally and retreat, and had about
seventeen wounded.
It was just at this moment that Montrose made
his vigorous charge upon the opposite extremity
and flank of the Covenanting army. MacCol no
sooner observed, or was informed of the motion,
than, notwithstanding the check he had got for a
similar movement, he rushed with all his forces,
and with the royal banner displayed, from the po-
sition to which he had just retreated, and charging
home upon the regiments opposed to him, now
disordered by Captain Drummond's untoward mis-
take, and by Montrose's attack, contributed mate-
rially to the victory, which then began to declare
for the royalists. The veteran regiments under
Hurry for some time fought patiently and well,
submitting to be cut down in their ranks exactly
as they had been marshalled, rather than give way
to the assailants. But the raw volunteer bodies of
the Highland clans, and the Moray and Aberdeen-
shire tenantry, almost immediately gave way, so
as to leave these brave troops at length no other
alternative. A flight then commenced in the di-
rection of Inverness, of which Montrose's men
took all the usual advantage, killing every body
whom they could overtake, and yielding quarter
to mone. Hurry himself, and the principal officers,
escaped with great difficulty, while the Laird of
Lawers, Sirs John and Gideon Murray, Colonel
James Campbell, Major Garchore, seven captains,
and five lieutenants, lay behind among the heaps
of the slain. There were killed altogether, in the
battle and flight, three thousand of the Covenant-
ers, chiefly of the foot, and particularly of Lawers's
AULD EARN AND ALFORD. 59
regiment, which, it would appear, behaved with
most bravery on this dreadful day. Out of all the
volunteers, the Frasers and Mackenzies suffered
most severely: “Of the former clan,” says an old
family chronicle,” “besides what fellummarried, there
were eighty-seven widows in the lordship of Lovat.”
Montrose, on his part, lost only twenty-four men
in all, none of whom were of any note. He took
from the enemy sixteen standards, and fell into
possession of their whole baggage and provisions.
The broken army retired to Inverness, where, a
court-martial being immediately held upon Captain
Drummond, and it being proved, on his own con-
fession, that he had spoken to the enemy, after
the sign and order for battle had been given, he
was sentenced to be shot, a sentence which was
immediately executed.” Montrose, dreading the
difficulties, or despising the advantages, of a siege,
forbore to annoy Hurry's army in the place of re-
fuge to which it had fled.
There were two circumstances which materially
affected Montrose's conduct at the battle of Auld-
earm, and it is necessary that they should here be
specified, for the purpose of vindicating him from
the erroneous impressions which must otherwise
be made upon the mind of the reader, regarding
the carmage which followed that encounter. While
lately residing in the Highland fastnesses, he had
received a packet of letters from the king, acceding
to a proposal which he had found means of making
after the battle of Inverlochy; that his majesty
should come north and join him in Scotland, so as
to transfer the seat of war thither, and thereby
oblige the Scottish nation to submit to terms of
peace, for the purpose of clearing their country of
the armies. The packet was brought to him by a
60 THE BATTLES OF
reduced Scottish gentleman of the name of Small,
who, for the purpose, had been obliged to assume
the disguise of a beggar, and practise the most in-
genious artifices, to escape observation in his tran-
sit through the north of England and south of Scot-
land. As this person was returning, in the same
disguise, with a packet of letters from Montrose
to the king, he was seized at Elphinstone, on the
south bank of the Forth, by Lord Elphinstone, and
being immediately hurried before the Committee
of Estates at Edinburgh, he was hanged on the
succeeding day at the Cross, without trial or cere-
mony. It was a most important seizure for the
Covenanting government, for not only did they thus
disarrange the concert between the king and Mon-
trose, but they were also enabled to take such
measures in the north of England, as completely
prevented the king from ever afterwards executing
his intention.* That such a movement on his part
would have been decisive against his insurgent
subjects in both kingdoms, seems sufficiently clear.
“His march into Scotland,” says Carte,” “would
have removed the only difficulties which Montrose
had to struggle with ; the want of a body of horse,
and the opposition made to his measures by the
Marquis of Huntly, the grounds or pretences of
whose jealousy, founded on his commission to be
king's lieutenant in the north of Scotland, must
have dropped on his majesty's presence in the
kingdom. All the north would have been then
united for the king's service, and would have sup-
plied him with a greater force than he could raise
anywhere in England; the power of the Covenant-
ers, which consisted chiefly in terror, would have
been broken ; the great number of royalists in the
Lowlands, sure of support, would have flocked to
K-
AULDEARN AND ALFO R D. 6 i
his standard ; and the moment he entered the
country, he would have been sure of the kingdom,
as sufficiently appeared after the battle of Kilsyth.
Argyle and the lords of his faction must have then
quitted the realm ; the Scotch army in England,
discontented for slights put upon them by their
English confederates, and the neglect of their pay,
and seeing all their possessions in their own country
reduced under his majesty's power, might possibly
have been induced to join him, which would have
brought Berwick, Newcastle, and the four north-
ern counties of England again under his obedience,
or else they would, in all probability, have melted
away to mothing, in a country where they were
already much dispersed, and could not be recruit-
ed. At least he would have got a general infinite-
ly superior to any he had already, high in reputa-
tion, adored by his soldiers, and terrible to his eme-
mies; sagacious to discover the first point of pos-
sibility, and brave enough to attempt it, but with
a presence of mind and judgment, that in a man-
mer secured success; provident against all acci-
dents; ever vigilant in looking out for advantages
against an enemy, and as sure to improve them ;
and who, with all the great and noble qualities that
ever formed the most accomplished hero of anti-
quity, had no selfish views, no passions nor hu-
mours to interfere with his duty, but, full of the
highest reverence and affection to the king's per-
som, was absolutely devoted to his service.”
All these prospective advantages were annulled
by the seizure of Small; for the king, disappoint-
ed of Montrose's answer to his packet, could not
proceed with the necessary expedition or confi-
dence upon his projected enterprise, and before he
had advanced far, the Committee of Estates made
VOL. II, F
62 THE BATTLES OF
such an arrangement of their troops in the north of
England, as obliged him to abandon the expedition
altogether. Montrose was himself infinitely dis-
turbed at the miscarriage of the packet; but his
chagrin for his own and the public misfortune was
not equalled by the indignation he felt at the ex-
ecution of the messenger. This he resented to
such a degree, that a great deal of the merciless
slaughter of the Covenanters at Auldearn is to be
attributed to it ; there being, however, one other
circumstance which helped to instigate him to that
course of action.
This was a peculiarly cruel murder which a
party of Covenanters perpetrated, the day before
the battle, upon one of his officers or adherents.
In a skirmish which took place between his ad-
vanced guard and the rear of Hurry's troops, as he
was chasing that general to Inverness, James Gor-
don, son to the Laird of Rhynie, happened to be
wounded. He was conveyed to a house called
the Struthers, near Elgin, which was occupied by
a friend of his own, there to lie till he should be
cured; and another gentleman of the name of Gor-
don was appointed to attend him. Unfortunately,
intelligence of his condition and place of abode
reaching the ears of the young Laird of Innes, who
was then in the castle of Spymie with a Covenant-
ing garrison, and who had both public and private
causes of hatred against the young gentleman, he
sent out a party from the garrison, consisting of
Captain Smith, Alexander Douglas, John Douglas,
and John Milne, all citizens of Elgin, with some
others; who, proceeding to the Struthers, deliber-
ately murdered the wounded youth, maiming his
attendant, moreover, in such a way that he also
was left for dead.” So barbarous and unjustifiable
AUL DEARN AND ALF O R D. 63
a murder, committed upon a youth of eighteen,
and who was unable to defend himself, while it
excited general horror throughout the district, rou-
sed the indignation of Montrose against the party
whose adherents had perpetrated it, to a degree far
above what it had previously been raised to by the
lawless execution of his messenger Small. There
can, at least, be no doubt that the two circumstan-
ces together caused him to “cry havock, and let
loose the dogs of war,” with the ferocity which has
been described, on the bloody field of Auldearn.
But, besides the public vengeance, as it may be
styled, which he took upon the party on that occa-
sion, he immediately afterwards proceeded to ex-
ecute private retaliation upon the individuals who
had been guilty in young Rhynie's murder. Ad-
vancing upon Elgin, he selected the houses of all
these persons, and either unrelentingly burnt them,
or caused them to be redeemed by composition.
He also destroyed the village of Garmouth, which
was chiefly the property of the Laird of Innes, and
which, he apprehended, might become, if spared, a
harbour for a garrison against the lands of the Gor-
dons." The lands of Calder and of the Earl of
Moray were also plundered, besides some others
in the county of Moray, belonging to the gentle-
men who had taken part against him in these dread-
ful intestine troubles.
When he had satisfied his appetite for vengeance
in Moray, he crossed over the Spey into Banff-
shire, with all his arms, ammunition, baggage, and
the goods which his men had accumulated by plum-
der; and, quartering himself at Birkenbog, the
house of a noted Covenanter, he dispersed his men
into quarters among the neighbouring towns and
villages. During the few days which he spent
64 THE BATTLES OF
there, he caused the town of Cullen, which had
been plundered two months before, to be com-
pletely burnt and destroyed, by way of reprisal
upon its chief proprietor, the Earl of Finlater; and
he now subjected to the same fate such lands of the
Viscount Frendraught as had formerly escaped his
vengeance. He also caused the town and lands of
Tombeg to be burnt, being occupied by one Wil-
liam Forbes, who was obnoxious to him, although
the property of an indifferent man, the Laird of
Monymusk.”
On the very day when Hurry was defeated at
Auldearm, his coadjutor Baillie was coming over
Cairn-a-mount, to join force with him for the re-
sistance of the common enemy. This general had
just been executing an order of the Committee of
Estates, which commanded him to ravage Athole
in the manner Montrose had just ravaged Moray,
by way of at once avenging the injuries the royalist
general had inflicted upon the Covenanters, and
diverting his troops away to the protection of their
own country. He laid siege to the castle of Blair,
in which Montrose had deposited the prisoners and
spoil taken at the battle of Inverlochy, but without
success. When he had completely burnt and plum-
dered the undefended country, and learned that
the Highlanders were coming from Montrose's
camp to its rescue, he crossed over the hills to
Kirriemuir and Fettercairn ; from thence to Birse,
where, as Spalding records, his troopers “ate up
the green-growing corn, scarcely come to the
blade;" and then, by the Cairn-a-mount, to Cromar,
in the county of Aberdeen. His force at this time
consisted of two thousand foot and a hundred
horse, mostly soldiers of discipline and experience;
but he was here obliged by his constituents, the
AUL DEARN AND ALFoRD. 65
Committee of Estates, to send back two regiments
for their defence in the low country, and to accept
some raw recruits in exchange. He attempted, by
setting the pulpits a-thundering, to raise the coun-
try people in his favour; but without the least suc-
cess. In addition to all other disadvantages, he
was embarrassed and perplexed in every move-
ment he made, by the ignorant Sub-committee of
Estates which attended him.
Learning, while at Cromar, the issue of the
battle of Auldearm, he rose from his camp, upon
the 19th of May, and marched forward, intending
to try his fortune in battle against the royal gene-
ral, or at least to protect the country from his ra-
vages, and the wreck of Hurry's army from his
further attacks. He had now very peremptory
orders from the Committee of Estates to hazard a
battle with Montrose; that body having lately be-
come acutely sensible of the disrepute which their
repeated defeats brought on them in England, and
finding, moreover, that, even in their own country,
notwithstanding all the religious and civil coercion
they could exert over the people, their character of
infallibility was beginning to desert them, while they
themselves were fast verging to a predicament of
the greatest personal danger. Baillie himself had
sufficient generalship to see the danger of present-
ing his scanty, raw, and dispirited troops, against
an army of such experience and confidence as that
of Montrose. But the cry of the civilians who
governed him, was loud and incessant for battle,
and he was obliged, however reluctantly, to grant
them their desire.
Marching forward, therefore, towards Strabogie,
he encamped at a place called Cochlarachie, from
whence he could easily discern Montrose's army,
> <)
F &
66 THE BATTLES OF
encamped, and apparently ready to meet him, at a
place of advantage among some enclosures and
other defences in the neighbourhood of that town.
He judged that the enemy was nearly equal to him
in numbers.” That night he was joined by Gene-
ral Hurry with a hundred horse, who, to reach him,
had had to come through Montrose's very lines; a
danger, however, which they successfully over-
came by pretending to be part of Lord Gordon's
cavalry. Next morning, when he expected to have
had an encounter with Montrose, he was surprised
to find that the whole army had disappeared from
their position, and were in full retreat up Strath-
spey.
The truth is, Montrose was at this period even
weaker than he had been at Auldearn, having had
to send away Alaster MacCol to the Highlands,
to bring back the Athole and other clans; so that
he had few men with him, besides his unfailing
Irish and the Gordon militia. For the purpose of
forming as early a junction as possible with his ab-
sent troops, he thought it advisable to retire from
before Baillie, and pitch his camp in some secure
place about the head of the strath, where he would
have his back to the Highlands, and be at the same
time effectually protected in front. Rising through
the night, he went directly south towards Balveny.
He was followed in the morning, but at some dis-
tance, by Baillie and his army. About the even-
ing, the pursuing troops came within sight of the
fugitives at Glenlivet ; but Montrose, by a forced
march, encamped that night about ten miles ahead
of them. Next morning the Covenanters, isolated
in a country inimical to their cause, found it im-
possible to procure intelligence of the route which
Montrose had taken beyond this point; and it was
AUL DEARN AND ALFOR. D. 6?
only by observing the direction in which the hea-
ther and grass lay upon the ground, that they at
length conjectured he had gone to the great forest
of Abernethy.” They followed him thither; but
on next coming within sight of his desultory and
incalculable bands, they had the mortification of
finding him entrenched in a position, which, on
account of rock, wood, and water united, was to-
tally inaccessible. Montrose had selected a place
where he could command the whole district of
Badenoch in his rear, so as to draw unfailing sup-
plies of provisions from it, and to receive in good
time, without annoyance, the Highlanders, whom
he expected MacCol to bring speedily down for
him from the same district, and from Athole. The
situation which Baillie assumed before him, was,
on the contrary, destitute of provisions, and espe-
cially of grass for his cavalry.” - -
It accordingly happened, that after both armies
had lain thus opposed to each other for several
days, Baillie found himself under the necessity of
retiring back to a more civilized district, and for
the present giving up his unprofitable pursuit
of the royal army. Marching northward to Inver-
ness, he was there able to recruit his commissa-
riat; after which, having crossed the Spey in boats
at its mouth, he progressed to Aberdeenshire, and
encamped at Newton, in the Garioch. Montrose
then projected and executed, by way of interlude,
a descent upon the Lowlands of Perthshire.
He penetrated to the castle of Newtyle, in An-
gus, undisturbed by Baillie, who lay far behind
him, and anticipating an easy triumph over the
Earl of Crawford, who now lay at the distance of
only a few miles, with a new army, chiefly formed
of draughts from the old, which the Estates had
68 THE BATTLES OF
thought proper to place there for the protection of
the Lowlands and the seat of government, an at-
tack upon which was at this period the chief sub-
ject of their dread. But, when just on the point
of marching to surprise and fight this force, intel-
ligence suddenly overtook him that Baillie was ra-
vaging the lands of the Gordons with all his might;
and he was all at once obliged to return to Aber-
deenshire, for the purpose of protecting that valua-
ble and friendly district. On his march back, learn-
ing that Baillie had lately been still farther weak-
ened and embarrassed than before by his foolish
constituents, he resolved at length to approach
him and offer battle.
On the last day of June the two armies met
near the kirk of Keith, in the north of Aberdeen-
shire. Baillie was posted there on advantageous
ground, where he could not be assailed without
great risk. When Montrose learned the peculia-
rities of his position he sent him a message, offering
to fight with him a set battle on fair ground. But
the Covenanting general answered, that he would
not receive an order to fight from an enemy.”
Montrose then retired towards the river Don,
which he crossed by the boat of Forbes, apparent-
ly designing to fall back once more upon the Low-
lands.
This ruse had the desired effect. Baillie was
then obliged, by the managing committee, to pro-
ceed instantly in pursuit. He had previously been
so much dispirited by their absurd interference
with his proceedings, and by their draining his
ranks of the disciplined men, that he had offered
to resign his command. Even now it was rather
from a feeling that it would be dishonourable to
desert them at the worst, than from any other
AUL DEA R N A N D A LF OR D. 69
cause, that he continued in his charge. It may
accordingly be conjectured, that in the battle about
to take place, with inferior numbers to the enemy,
and soldiers of much worse quality, he stood but
an indifferent chance of success.
It was on the 2d of July, (1645,) that the two
armies again appeared before each other. Mon-
trose had taken up his position on a small hill be-
hind the village of Alford, with a marsh to defend
his rear. He had with him the greater part of the
Gordons, (foot and horse,) the whole of the Irish,
the clan of the Macdonells of Glengarry, under
its chieftain, Angus MacVich Alaster; part of
Clanranald's men; the Macphersons of Badenoch;
and some small septs from Athole;” the whole
announting to about three thousand. Baillie, on
the other hand, had only about thirteen hundred
foot, many of them raw men, with a few troops of
Lord Balcarras's and Colonel Halket's horse regi-
ments, amounting in number to two hundred and
sixty. The battle of Alford, now about to take
place, was, therefore, the first engagement Mon-
trose had with his enemies, in which he exceeded
them in numerical force.
Before the enemy had yet appeared in sight, or
crossed the river Don, which ran at about a mile's
distance in his front, Montrose marshalled his men
in order for battle, giving the command of his
right wing to Lord Gordon and Sir Nathaniel :
that of his left to the Earl of Aboyne and Sir Wil-
liam Rollock ; and of his main battle, to the chief-
tain of Glengarry, Drummond of Balloch, and a
clansman of his own, named George Graham, who
was his master of the camp, and an officer of some
experience. He then rode forward with a troop of
horse to the ordinary ford over the Don, to make
‘70 THE BATTLES OF
his observations upon the Presbyterian army as it
approached. While waiting there, he was inform-
ed by a scout that the enemy was marching with
precipitate haste to a ford about two miles farther
up the river; by crossing which, they seemed to
expect that they might get behind and cut off the
retreat of the royal army, which, it was known,
they still supposed to be flying southwards before
them.* Montrose then returned to his position, not
altogether resolved upon battle, but intending, it
would appear, to be determined by circumstances.
It is somewhat singular, that on this occasion
meither party had resolved upon a full encounter,
yet both were drawn into it by contingencies re-
spectively affecting each. The circumstance which
provoked the battle on Montrose's side, was the
Gordons seeing the whole of the cattle of Strabo-
gie and the Enzie impelled before the approaching
host of the Covenanters, and being thereby moved
to rush forward at once for the rescue of their pro-
perty, and to revenge the insolence of those who
had robbed them. As they approached, Baillie's
men ensconced themselves and the cattle in some
folds or other enclosures, from whence letting fly a
salvee” of shot at the Gordons, they had the good
fortune to bring down a considerable number.
Montrose, then perceiving the assailants to be stag-
gered by their reception, and fearing that they
might be overpowered, resolved at once upon en-
tering into battle with his whole force. In the
first place, however, he commanded the Gordons
to fall back in sham retreat, so as to seduce the
Covenanters from their position ; and it was only
when they had left the folds upon that temptation,
that he joined with them in hearty and general
conflict.10
AUL DEARN AND ALFORD. 7 I
Baillie, on his part, according to his own decla-
ration, was only induced eventually to enter into
pitched battle with Montrose, by the circumstance
of Lord Balcarras having rushed forward too pre-
cipitately with the cavalry, and thereby got him-
self involved in a dilemma, from which nothing
could rescue him but the advance and support of
the whole army. The two circumstances, as va-
riously related by the authorities just quoted, do
not tally very well, yet it is quite possible that
they may both be correct, though they probably
happened at an interval of time and place.
When the two armies were, to use the phrase
of the times, buckled in full encounter, they both
alike fought with great spirit and perseverance,
meither party giving the least way to the other for
a considerable time. And in this matter Baillie's
army must be allowed to have had greater honour
than that of Montrose, for his lines were only
three men deep, while Montrose's stood six in file."
The fight was conducted with peculiar spirit on the
left of Baillie's army, where Lord Balcarras, with
two squadrons, bore the charge of Montrose's su-
perior and more numerous cavalry, and also the
fire of the expert musketeers, whom the royalist
general had, as usual, mingled with his horse. At
length, however, Colonel Nathaniel Gordon called
out to these footmen, “Come, my brave fellows,
throw down your useless guns, and attack these
lubberly horse hand to hand; sheathe your swords
in the horses' bellies, hamstring them, cut down
the men, or do any thing else you like that will
kill or wound.” A tough and desperate conflict
then ensued, horse and men commingling with
each other in a way perfectly extraordinary, the
footmen insinuating themselves everywhere, even
72 THE BATTLES OF
under the horses' bellies, and dealing wounds upon
the poor animals, which either brought them down
upon their riders, or sent them wildly raging off
the field. In the language of the Clanranald bard,
“ the men were upon one another's tops.” In the
extremity of the confusion, “ Alexander, son of
Ronald, son of Allan,” says the same writer, (who,
with Allan Og, son of MacVich Alaster (Glen-
garry) commanded the Clanranald,) “as he him-
self afterwards declared, stood for some time in
the midst of the throng, with his drawn sword in
his hand, not knowing how to strike a stroke, as
he could not distinguish friend from foe.” The
Covenanting horse then began to recoil from an
encounter in which they were so ill-matched. Bail-
lie no sooner perceived them wavering, than he
sent his remaining squadron of horse to their sup-
port; but that troop chose only to rank up behind
their distressed comrades, instead of going forward,
as they ought to have done, to relieve them of the
press of battle. And the consequence was, that,
when the two distressed troops gave way, the
third also broke and fled.
The battle was then in a manner decided; for the
Gordons were enabled, by the retreat of Baillie's
horse, to sweep round upon his main body, and even
attack it in rear. Lord Gordon himself was so con-
fident and so forward, that he promised his men to
bring them the Presbyterian general by the neck
from the midst of his remaining troops; and he had
actually seized Baillie by the shoulder-belt to drag
him from his horse, when unfortunately a ball hit
him in a mortal part, and prostrated him among the
horses' feet.” This circumstance, however, though
itself so much to be lamented, was perhaps only .
productive of a more immediate decision of fortune
AUL DEARN AND ALFORD. 73.

in favour of the royal arms; for the Gordons were
so much infuriated by it, that they could set no
bounds to their vehemence in attacking and cutting
down the Covenanting troops; most of whom, then
losing all hope of success, followed the example of
their horse by running away.
At the very moment when Baillie's lines were
wavering under the attack of the Gordons, Mon-
trose decided the day effectually, by bringing up a
reserve, which he had established under the charge
of his nephew the Master of Napier, behind the hill
which formed his original position. At sight of this
body, to which the camp-boys united themselves on
their sumpter-horses, and which therefore had a for-
midable appearance as it came down the hill, the
Covenanters fled en masse, unable to contend with
the troops which were already surrounding them,
but much more inadequate to face what seemed to
them a new army. A prodigious slaughter then
took place upon or near the ground; for many de-
tached bodies of the vanquished army stood and
fought till they were to a man cut down; while
others could by no means escape the infuriate ca-
valry of the Gordons, eager as these were to revenge
the death of their commander. Even in the flight,
which spread far and near, almost all the foot were
overtaken and slain; not one of the pursuers turn-
ing, if we are to believe the Clanranald chronicle,
till there was not a man to be seen anywhere upon
his legs. It was with the greatest difficulty that
Baillie and other chief officers escaped: the Marquis
of Argyle, who had been present at the battle as
one of the managing committee, only saved himself
from the eager pursuit of the chieftain of Glengarry,
by his good fortune in procuring a change of horses
at three different places.”
VOL. II. G 3
'74, BATTLE OF AULDEARN, &c.
While Baillie lost by this engagement almost the
whole of his infantry and a great portion of even
his horse, Montrose suffered, as usual, a very incon-
siderable damage; Mowat of Balwholly, Ogilvy of
Milton, and an Irish captain of the name of Dick-
som, with a very small number of private men,”
forming the whole list of slain which he had to add
to the lamented name of Lord Gordon. The death
of this last mentioned individual, however, was in
itself the severest blow he had received during the
whole course of the war. “It seemed,” says Bishop
Wishart, “to eclipse the whole glory of the present
victory. As the report spread among the soldiers,
every one seemed to be struck dumb with the me-
lancholy news. But their grief soon burst through
all restraint; and, in voices full of lamentation and
sorrow, they began to exclaim against heaven and
earth, for bereaving their king, the kingdom, and
themselves, of so excellent a person. In the ex-
tremity of their distress, unmindful of both victory
and plunder, they thronged around the body of their
dead captain; some weeping over his wounds and
kissing his lifeless limbs; whilst others praised his
comely appearance even in death, and extolled his
noble mind, which was enriched with every noble
quality appropriate to his high birth and ample for-
tune. They even cursed the victory which was
bought at so dear a rate.”
BAT TILE OF KILSYTH. 75
CHAPTER IV,
BATTLE OF KILSYT II.
And, as a herd
Of goats, or timorous flock, together throng’d,
Drove them before him, thunder-struck.
Millto.N.
A ForTNIGHT before their loss at Alford, the
Covenanting government had been cheered by in-
telligence of the decisive victory obtained by the
English parliamentary forces over the king at
Naseby. Notwithstanding, therefore, the severity
of this their fifth defeat at home, and although the
plague was now ravaging their capital with almost
unexampled violence, they still resolved to bear up
against the recusant who so long and so nearly had
threatened to overwhelm them: they resolved to
make at least one last effort to rescue the taber-
nacle which they were so painfully rearing, and
which, after having escaped a thousand external
and foreign dangers, seemed now about to be de-
stroyed, as it were, by one of its own builders.
When Baillie, Balcarras, Argyle, and other fugi-
tive officers and noblemen, reached the Low Coun-
try, to which they fled after the battle of Alford,
they found that the Seottish parliament had been
'76 BATTLE OF KILSYTH,
obliged to meet at Stirling, instead of Edinburgh,
on account of the pestilence. Repairing to that
city, they were all very graciously received by their
constituents; who, sitting down for the first time
on the 8th of July, immediately voted their thanks
to General Baillie, but in a more particular manner
to Lord Balcarras, the mobleman who had led on
the horse with so much vigour and resolution at the
late battle. They continued Baillie in his place;
for although General Hurry had endeavoured to
prejudice them against him," and though they con-
ceived his conduct to have been all along too inde-
cisive and cautious, they were perhaps sensible that
they could not at present procure a more experi-
enced commander. Baillie was not unconscious of
the equivocal nature of his situation, or of the asper-
sions which had been thrown upon him, and offered
with great frankness to stand an open trial for his
conduct; but they professed perfect satisfaction
with him, and the very next day, having renewed
his commission, sent him off to assume command
of the army which they were rendezvousing at
Perth.
The nucleus of this army was formed by that
which has been already mentiomed as lying in
Angus under the charge of the Earl of Crawford,
together with the few troops of horse which had
made good their escape from Alford. In order to
increase it to the amount of ten thousand men,
which they now calculated as the least that was
sufficient to reduce Montrose, they issued edicts to
all the Lowland counties, commanding them to
raise every fourth fencible man, and to send the re-
sult to Perth on or before the 24th of July. The
pestilence (which had come from Newcastle to
Edinburgh by the way of Kelso) having now also
13 ATTLE OF KILSYTH, 177
begun to appear in Stirling, they resolved to ad-
journ themselves to the city where the army was
appointed to meet; and there they accordingly sat
down on the 24th; having previously caused the
General Assembly to appoint a fast for the sins and
misfortunes of the land, which was to be held
throughout the whole kingdom, and to continue
for four days.
Montrose in the meantime had marched to Aber-
deen, to bury his lamented friend, Lord Gordon.
While lying in that city, he dispatched a party
northward to the remote and peninsular district of
Buchan, which had never yet been passed through
or ravaged by any army, on account of its good
fortune in lying out of the way. It was now de-
spoiled of all the horses that could be found in it,
Montrose being particularly anxious for a supply
of these animals, in order to form a body of ca-
valry. It was also deliberated at this time, that as
the Marquis of Huntly now professed willingness
to join the royal army, his son, the Earl of Aboyne,
should go northward to his place of refuge in
Strathnaver, with two thousand men, to serve as a
convoy for bringing him through the midst of the
inimical clans, and the Covenanting garrison of In-
verness, who might otherwise arrest or destroy
him. But the intelligence which immediately af-
terwards reached Montrose, of the mighty prepa-
rations made against him at Perth, obliged him to
abandon for the present all thoughts of that enter-
prise, and to bend his whole force in another di-
rection.
He now marched to the little town of Fordoun
in Kincardineshire, and, having there pitched his
camp, waited for some time till his faithful friend
MacCol should bring in his Highland auxiliaries,
G 2
‘Y8 BATTLE OF KILSYTH.
The major-general had now been absent nearly
two months on his recruiting expedition, and had
missed one battle ; but when he did come, it for-
tunately was with such an accession of force, as
fully compensated all the time and trouble they
had cost him, as well as his non-enjoyment of Al-
ford. He brought with him no fewer than seven
hundred Macleans from Argyleshire and the
Western Islands—men, it is true, who had not be-
fore been in action, but who perhaps made up for
that by the ferocious hatred which they bore to
the Campbells, and, by consequence, to all their
political allies. He had also mustered once more
the whole of Clanranald, to the amount of five
hundred men, at the head of whom was the great
warrior, John Muidartach, so well remembered at
this day in the Highlands for his warlike exploits.
The Athole Highlanders came in full force, under
the immediate command of Colonel Patrick Graham
of Inchbrakie, Montrose's cousin ; as also the Mac-
gregors and Macnabs, the Stewarts of Appin, the
Farquharsons of Braemar, and many other clans
of smaller number or inferior note. “When they
reached the camp, they were made heartily wel-
come by Montrose, and by all the rest, and each
clan was set in order by itself.”
The Clanranald bard relates a circumstance re-
ferring to this period, which, as it is highly cha-
racteristic of the Highlanders, may very properly
be related here. It must only be premised, that
all the Highland clans that had lately reached the
camp, instead of depending for subsistence upon
the Low Country they were invading, had brought
with them from the inimical districts they happen-
ed to pass, a stock of provisions sufficient to main-
tain them for some time in camp. Montrose hap-
BATTLE OF KILSYTH. '79
pening to observe that John Muidartach was the
only exception from this rule, and the tale of scan-
dal being borne to the ears of that chieftain by a
common soldier, who had heard it repeated by
MacCol, the Highlander, not at all indignant at
Montrose for commenting upon his conduct, but
only vexed at being reproached for remissness on
such a score, flung himself instantly out of his
tent, and, calling for Donald his som, told him to
rise immediately, prepare his men, and none but
his own men, then go forth and bring in a spoil to
the king's camp. The young man, with very little
farther preparation than only learning what lands
his father wished him to spoil, went off upon his
mission ; and such was the rigour and success
with which he executed it, that it was afterwards
universally acknowledged that he had brought
more provisions to the camp than any other chief
Indeed, says my authority, John Muidartach's spoil
was in itself sufficient to maintain the army all the
time it lay in camp.
The bard relates, as a subsidiary anecdote, that
when young Donald was ranging through the
country on this singular expedition, “an honour-
able old man met him, who told him many things,
and, among the rest, that the Mearns had not been
spoiled before, since Donald of the Isles spoiled it,
when he fought the battle of Harlaw ; ; and I
suppose, young gentleman,’ said this old man, “you
are descended of him, if you be the captain of
Clanranald.’”
About the end of the month of July, Montrose
adopted the resolution of marching down upon
Perth, where he understood the parliament was
then assembled, hoping to be able, with his pre-
sent forces, which mustered between five and six
S0 BATTLE OF KILSYTH,
thousand strong, to disperse their army before it
had reached its full strength, and even perhaps to
surround and cut off the whole members of the
insurgent government, while they were sitting in
the very act and place of their rebellion. To exe-
cute such a purpose he was only deficient in horse,
which were necessary for the protection of his
foot when they should descend into a plain coun-
try; but, by leaving Aboyne, in Aberdeenshire,
and Airly, in Angus, to raise all the remaining
loyal gentlemen of these districts, he hoped that he
might obtain a sufficient supply of that species of
force, before he should be ready to debouche from
the Highlands. Having, therefore, dispatched these
noblemen on their recruiting expeditions, with or-
ders to follow him in all haste, he left Fordoun,
marched through Blairgowrie to Dunkeld, there
crossed the Tay, and, finally, drawing a circuit
round the position of the enemy, encamped at
Amulree. The parliamentary army had in the
meantime assembled in considerable force on the
south side of the Erne, while four hundred horse
lay close to the town, as an immediate guard upon
the Estates.
Rather to try the spirit and make observations
upon the numbers of his enemies, than with any
intention of engaging them, Montrose thought pro-
per, one day, to advance from Amulree to the wood
of Methven, where he was only five miles from
Perth. The scouts of the Covenanters then reti-
red into the town, reporting, with absurd alarm,
that he was on the point of assaulting it, and con-
juring the Estates to rise and provide for their
safety by flight. Fortunately for their credit, these
stern enthusiasts had the resolution to sit still.
They only conceived it necessary to draw their
BATTLE OF KILSYTH. 8 I
army more closely around them. Montrose, next
day, appeared before their very gates with his
slender troop of horse, which only consisted of about
a hundred real cavaliers, all the rest being mere
footmen on baggage-horses. They were imposed
upon by his specious appearance, and did not dare
to send a party against him. He even crossed over
the Erne at Dupplin, and took a leisurely survey
of their infantry, without experiencing any annoy-
ance from them: although, if aware of his real
strength, they might then have easily cut off his
retreat to his camp. The very boldness of his pro-
ceedings proved his safe-guard ; for they conceived
that he never could make such movements unless
confident of their safety.
Neither party was yet disposed to come to bat-
tle; for, while Montrose thought it necessary to
wait for the cavalry which he expected Aboyne
and Airly to bring to him, the Covenanters judged
it quite as expedient to delay till they should be
joined by certain regiments which were now in
march to their leaguer, from the south and west of
Scotland. At length, after Montrose had insulted
them for several days from his position at Methven,
being strengthened to a great degree by three regi-
ments from Fife, and learning that the enemy was
not so strong in the article of horse as he appeared,
they moved forward to offer him battle. Montrose,
however, had only to withdraw into the mountain-
ous country behind him, in order to set them at
defiance. Pretending, by the arrangement of his
troops, that he was willing to encounter them, he
sent off the whole of his baggage towards Amulree,
then dispatched the weakest of his troops in the
same direction ; lastly, when he thought they
would be safe, he broke up his whole army from
82. BATTLE OF KILSYTH,
before the face of the enemy, and deployed into
the hills, only taking care to leave his horse and
best musketeers in the rear, to defend the passes
and protect his retreat. Baillie sent his horse in
pursuit, under General Hurry; but that command-
er, by a treacherous or at least unnecessary delay
in crossing the Powe, only reached the fords of the
Almond at the same time that his commanding officer
arrived with the foot, when it was much too late to
do any serious execution upon the retiring host.”
Still, a band of about three hundred of the Presby-
terian cavalry, consisting probably of volunteer
zealots, continued the pursuit. At every succes-
sive pass which Montrose thought it necessary to
defend, these gentlemen came furiously up, and at-
tempted to dislodge the men. They were gene-
rally checked, and even a considerable number of
them were brought from their saddles, by the well-
directed sharp-shooting of the fugitives. But they
nevertheless held on with great spirit. There was
one, in particular, a man of the name of Cornell,
supposed (says Neil MacVourich) to be the prin-
cipal champion of Scotland, who led a little party,
and gave peculiar annoyance to the retreat. At
every place of difficulty, this man was sure to gal-
lop up, and make a brisk charge upon the guard
which Montrose had planted to defend it. He
even succeeded so far as to seize three or four of
the baggage-horses. At length, proceeds the Clan-
ranald bard, “Angus, the son of Allan Dhu, who
rode behind all his party, on a horse which had
neither saddle nor pillion, but with only a long
gun tied before him, eyed this bold hero, lighted
off his horse, set his gun upon a stone, and shot
the champion of the red apparel, who fell under
liis horse's feet, with all his crape, silver, and finery.
BATTLE OF KILSYTH, 83
His men gave a sorrowful cry, when they saw
their leader fall, and did not venture to molest
them any more that day.”
Baillie's troops retired, after a fruitless pursuit,
to the camp which Montrose had vacated at Meth-
ven, where, if Wishart is to be relied on for such
a piece of information, they avenged the fatigue
and disappointment of the day by killing a few
women and children whom the Irish had left be-
hind them. The sacred army was now in a most
deplorable condition. Its commander, disgusted
by the mean suspicions of his employers, distracted
by their various counsels, and prevented by their
absurd and impertinent meddling from ever taking
one soldier-like step, could scarcely be prevailed
upon to retain his office even for a single day.
The component parts of the army itself were crude,
ill assorted, and many of them extremely indispo-
sed to the service. Not a few of the late levies, in-
cluding the whole of the three Fife regiments, ac-
tually left the camp, after returning to Methven,
and went home; the terror of Montrose, it would
appear, fairly overcoming all sense of duty. Even
those that remained, from their utter inexperience,
not to speak of their irresolution, were totally
unfit to meet or keep up a mortal struggle with
men so confident and so inured to battle as Mon-
trose's warriors. It may be thought that, under
the present circumstances, nothing could have kept
the army together in any respectable numbers, had
not the ministers, the unfailing irrepressible mini-
sters, exerted themselves with extraordinary vigour
to do so.
Montrose had retired to Little Dunkeld, where
he encamped, in order to spend the time till he
should receive the levies which he expected Aboyne
84. BATTLE OF KILSYTH.
and Airly to bring to him.” When these two
noblemen arrived, the general was somewhat dis-
appointed to find that they had not been so success-
ful as he originally hoped; Aboyne only bringing
two hundred regular cavalry, with sixty footmen
mounted on carriage-horses; while the venerable
Airly was attended by no more than eighty cava-
liers. This accession, however, though small in
number, was of excellent quality: Aboyne's horse-
men were the same who had contributed so mate-
rially to the victories of Auldearm and Alford; and
those whom the Earl of Airly had brought were
all gentlemen of his own family and name, who
bore the most ardent affection to the cause, and
some of whom had considerable experience.
Every thing considered, Montrose had never had
so hopeful a chance of victory as at the present
juncture. Throughout the whole of his campaign,
up to this time, there had been a plurality of ini-
mical armies, to distract him in his movements,
and produce diversions of his men; and he never
yet had found it possible to concentrate his ener-
gies upon any one point. Now, having crushed
Argyle, and thereby relieved the Highlanders from
sentinelship upon their own lands; having cut se-
veral small disciplined armies to pieces, and there-
by released the Gordons in the same manner; now,
having at length brought together the whole of his
friends and adherents, and gathered himself up for
one last decisive blow, he might be said to have
arrived at a pitch of advantage, and strength, and
greatness, which he had never before reached, or
could have hoped to reach; the very summit of
his desperate and altogether wonderful enterprise.
The numbers of his army at this period have been
very variously calculated; but they probably reach-
BATTLE OF KILSYTH. 85
ed five thousand foot and five hundred horse; a
host which, considering the individual character of
the men, seemed fully qualified to annihilate the
huge mass of undisciplined and timid militia which
the parliament had to oppose to him.
He had accordingly no sooner been joined by
his Aberdeenshire and Angus cavalry, than he
thought proper to move once more down into the
Lowlands, for the purpose of offering battle to the
Covenanters, whose troops he thought he might
now advance against with the greater confidence,
in as much as he understood that their men were
daily deserting, and their general on the point of
throwing up his command. On his appearing in
Logie Almond, the enemy retired from Methven,
and encamped at Kilgraston, on the south side of
the river Erne. He then drew a circuit round
them, and, crossing the Erne by the bridge at
Nethergask, about eight miles farther up the stream,
suddenly appeared before them at the Kirk of
Drone. He was then two miles to the south of
their leaguer, and of course fairly betwixt them
and that valued district from which they had so
long endeavoured to exclude him, and which it
was their present purpose to defend. He did not,
however, take immediate advantage of his position,
but hung for two or three days over their camp in
a threatening attitude, they in the meantime ex-
erting themselves with might and main to entrench
themselves against his attack. When he saw that
they could not be brought to fight, and that at the
same time it would be dangerous to storm them
in so strong a situation, he marched southward to
Kinross; hoping, perhaps, either to draw them
into a place where he could attack them to advan-
tage, or to escape them altogether, and so make
VOI. II. I-I
86 BATTLE OF KILSYTH.
his way into England. Baillie, with the consent
of the field committee,” followed him by Lindores,
Rossie, and Burleigh ; upon which march the three
Fife regiments again joined him.
From Kinross, Montrose suddenly turned his
march westward to Stirling bridge, for the pur-
pose of getting over the Forth into the southern
district of Scotland. As he passed down the plea-
sant vale of the Devon, the Macleans, who have
already been mentioned as forming so numerous a
body in his army, burnt Castle Campbell, the chief
Lowland seat of the Argyle family, as also all the
houses, of whatsoever sort, in the two parishes of
Dollar and Muckhart, being the property of the
vassals of that family.” This was in requital of si-
milar injuries which the marquis and his chief-
tains had perpetrated upon the country of the
Macleans, who are an adjacent, and have always
been a hostile clan to the Campbells." But there
were two strange cases of exception from the ge-
meral fate awarded to this unfortunate district: one
house in the village of Dollar was saved, on ac-
count of a mistaken supposition that it belonged
to the Abbey of Dumfermline, and another, upon
the extremity of the parish of Muckhart, from a
notion that it stood in the parish of Fossaway.
The reader may smile to observe that spoilers of
this description, in violating the interests of man
to such an inhuman degree, should have preserved
a respect for what they considered the property of
God, ° and that, in performing devastation on so
wide a scale, they should have regarded minute
parochial distinctions with such considerate ac-
curacy.
On the evening of his march from Kinross, he
quartered his army in the wood of Tillibody, near
BATTLE OF KILSYTH. 87
Alloa ; which town, as even a cavalier historian *
owns, the Irish “ did barbarously plunder.” He
and his chief officers were here entertained at
dinner in a sumptuous style by the Earl of Mar
and Lord Erskine; who, though no doubt offended
at the devastations of the Irish in their town and
lordship, seem to have been nevertheless disposed
as much by loyal feeling as by fear, to show civility
to the king's servants.
The pestilence alone saved Stirling from the
visit and spoliation to which, as a zealous Covenant-
ing town, it would have now in all probability been
subjected by Montrose. Afraid to approach it,
he did not cross the Forth by its celebrated bridge,
but, marching eight miles farther up, passed through
the fords of the Frew, so remarkable for the transit
which Prince Charles Stuart made a century after-
wards over the river at the same place. He then
drew his army through the hilly grounds in the
centre of Stirlingshire, apparently designing to fall
down upon Glasgow, which was the only consider-
able town in the south of Scotland now free of the
plague. But, before executing that purpose, he
was overtaken by Baillie at Kilsyth, and obliged
to come to an engagement.
The Covenanting army had marched close upon
his track down Glendevon, at the distance of about
a day's march behind. In passing along, the Mar-
quis of Argyle, upon his own responsibility, caused
his men to burn Memstrie House, the seat of the
Earl of Stirling, (secretary to King Charles,) and
Airthrie, the property of Sir John Graham of
Braco, uncle to Montrose, in revenge for the con-
flagration of his own house and estate by the Mac-
leans. He also sent a message to the Earl of
Mar, informing him that, on the return of the
88 BATTLE OF KILSYTH.
army, his house of Alloa should endure the same
fate, in expiation of the hospitality which he had
shown to the great public enemy.
While the army was on this march, it was re-
solved that the Earls of Lanark, Glencairn, and
Eglintoune, should advance to the west country,
where their vassals lay, and there endeavour to
raise an army, which should intercept Montrose as
he went southward, or drive him back for destruc-
tion upon the main body under General Baillie.
Before the army had come to Stirling bridge, it
was reinforced by twelve hundred of Argyle's re-
tainers. But here a great defection had nearly
taken place. The three Fife regiments, which had
already once deserted, and which had only been
brought back by a fear that Montrose was about to
descend upon their own district, now seeing him
clear over the Forth, and far away from their pro-
perty, stopped short at the bridge, and could upon
no account be prevailed upon by their officers to
proceed farther. These men, according to Bishop
Wishart, were well enough inclined to the cause,
there being perhaps no district in Scotland which
had acted with such uniform zeal for the Covenant
as Fife; but they were men of peaceful habits—
generally shop-keepers or artizans, and many of
them fishermen and sailors who had scarcely ever
before done duty or business of any sort upon
shore. They had also an ominous recollection of
the slaughter which Montrose had, less than a
twelvemonth before, committed at Tippermuir
upon their friends and countrymen. Every thing
considered, it is scarcely to be wondered at that
three thousand men, who had been called to form
about the third of an army for the defence of all
Scotland, though only themselves having a minute
BATTLE OF KII, SYTH. 89
fractional interest in it, should pause before ven-
turing themselves upon an expedition at once so
pregnant with danger, and in the object of which
they had so little concern. -
But whatever might be the prudential sentiments
of these poor men, they were not destined to stand
proof against a sentiment of a different nature
which was now put into operation. The leaders
of the three various regiments (the Lairds of Cambo,
Ferny, and Fordel) perceiving that, is the extre-
mity to which things had arrived, nothing could pre-
rail with them but the fervour of religion, thought
proper to command the ministers who had accom-
panied them from their respective parishes, to go
through their ranks, and, by preaching, praying,
and the use of their great personal influence, oblige
them “to go out to the help of the Lord against
the mighty.” It might truly be said in the pre-
sent case that arma cesserunt togae : for what the
military word of command had altogether failed to
do, was effectually performed by these sacred and
esteemed persons. Fairly overcome by the “jolly
tales,” as Guthry calls them, of their clergy, and
assured, moreover, that they should be discharged
in a day or two, on the westland army coming up
under Lamark and his coadjutors, the unhappy Fife
men, in number about three thousand, went de-
votedly on to the fatal field from which so few of
them were destined to return. -
While they had been standing irresolute on the
north side of the Forth, an incident took place on
the south side, at head-quarters, which showed that
the very general of this ill-starred army was him-
self inclined to desert the cause. To let him speak
for himself, his own narrative may be quoted.
“A little above the park, (that is, the King's
II 2
90 BATTLE OF KILSYTH.
Park at Stirling,) I halted until the Fife regiments
were brought up, hearing that the rebels were
marched towards Kilsyth. After the upcoming of
those regiments, the Marquis of Argyle, Earl of
Crawford, and Lord Burleigh, and, if I mistake
not, the Earl of Tulliebardine, the Lords Elcho and
Balcarras, with some others, came up. My lord
marquis asked me what was next to be done. I
answered, the direction should come from his lord-
ship and those of the committee. My lord de-
manded, what reason was for that ? I answered, I
found myself so slighted in every thing belonging
to a commander-in-chief, that, for the short time
I was to stay with them, I would absolutely sub-
mit to their direction, and follow it. The marquis
desired me to explain myself; which I did in three
particulars, sufficiently known to my lord marquis
and the other lords and gentlemen then present. I
told his lordship, (1,) Prisoners of all sorts were
exchanged without my knowledge; the traffickers
therein received passes from others, and sometimes
passing within two miles of me, did neither acquaint
me with their business, nor, at their return, where,
or in what posture, they had left the enemy: (2,)
While I was present, others did sometimes under-
take the command of the army: (3, And how se-
vere is the sarcasm implied against Argyle !)
Without either my order or knowledge, fire was
raised, and that destroyed which might have been
a recompense to some good deserver, for which I
would not be answerable to the public. All which
things considered, I should in any thing freely give
my own opinion, but follow the judgment of the
committee, and the rather because that was the
last day of my undertaking.”
To understand fully the meaning of this strange
BATTLE OF KIISYTH, 9 |
collision, the reader must be made aware that, af-
ter returning from the ineffectual chase of Mon-
trose across the Almond, Baillie, fairly disgusted
with the suspicions and aspersions to which his
name was exposed, resigned his place into the
hands of Parliament, and was only with the great-
est difficulty prevailed on to continue a fortnight
longer in command without commission; of which
period, it appeared the last day was now arrived.
Having, even upon this last march, received addi-
tional cause of offence; having, as would seem,
been deprived of the most common privileges of
a commander, by the impertinent superiors with
whom he was saddled, and had his honourable sol-
dierly mind shocked by the private revenges which
one of these personages conceived himself at li-
berty to wreak out by the assistance of the army
upon his own account; he had at length come to
that state of feeling upon the subject, which men
only know when despair and disgust have united
to render them indifferent to all results. He may
have still retained a lingering hope of success in
the conflict about to take place; but the predomi-
nant feeling in his mind must have been that one
most annoying to a professional soldier like him,
and consequently most ominous of evil fortune in
his case, that, even though he were to do his duty
with never so much zeal and accuracy, its proper
effects would be defeated, and he, in either result,
would not get his due share of credit. -
It being determined by the committee at the
King's Park, that the army should approach Mon-
trose, it was led forward that day (August 14) by
General Baillie, to Denny, where it crossed the
Carron, and from thence forward to a place called
Hollambush, about four miles east of Kilsyth,
92 BATTLE OF KILSYTH,
where it was encamped for the night. Next morn-
ing the Marquis of Argyle, who had lingered all
night at Stirling, crossed over the hills, and pass-
ing the Carron by a ford near Buckieburn, which
still bears his name, came up to the camp." His
lordship immediately went into the general's tent,
and inquiring, “What of the rebels 2" was inform-
ed by Baillie that they were lying at Kilsyth.
“May we not advance nearer them f" asked the
marquis. Baillie answered that the army was near
enough to them if it was not to fight them, and
pointed out to his lordship the difficulty of the
ways through which they would have to make any
advance.
But the better sense of this commander, which
told him the peculiar hazard of assailing Montrose
in his advantageous position over so rough a coun-
try, and which showed to him the general absurd-
ity of fighting with an enemy at the very moment
when reinforcements were expected, was lost upon
Argyle ; and, some other members of the commit-
tee being called and consulted, it was resolved,
against the will of the general, that they should
proceed immediately and directly to battle. The
army was then dragged through the corn-fields and
over the braes, towards Kilsyth, on the hills above
which they understood Montrose's men lay await-
ing them. - *.
When the royalist general saw the immense
hosts of the enemy moving slowly and with difficulty
through the country below him, he felt such a tide
of joy rush through his breast, as a soldier of his
character might be supposed to experience when
suddenly assured of a victory which shall give him
possession of a kingdom. Knowing as he did the
superiority of his men, as well as of the circum-
BATTLE OF KILSYTH. 93
stances under which he must fight ; assured of the
rashness and foolishness under which the enemy
was acting, and rejoicing in the prospect of fight-
ing them before they should be joined by the
western levies, he felt not the slightest doubt of
gaining another victory ; a victory which, different
from all he had yet won, would at once give him
the mastery of Scotland, and by enabling him to
accomplish his warmest and most ambitious wish,
that of re-establishing the throne of his sovereign,
make him that sovereign's greatest subject.
After a toilsome and disorderly march across
the country, the Covenanting army arrived at a
place near Auchinelogh, two miles east from Kil-
syth, where, finding it quite impossible to proceed
any farther for the bogs, Baillie formed them in ar-
ray, and seemed as if he would have there willing-
ly sat down to await the attack of the enemy.
But, although this position was such that twenty
men could not have anywhere found an avenue
of approach to his front, he was not permitted to
retain it. The committee, as if resolved to disap-
point him in all the cautious measures he wished
to take, came up as he was marshalling the army,
and pointing to a hill on the right, which was very
near that on which the enemy lay, asked him if it
would not be a better position. He answered, that
he not only conceived that ground to be bad, but
he felt assured that the enemy could, if they plea-
sed, anticipate them in the possession of it. Their
lordships requested that some competent persons
might be sent to view and report upon the ground,
which was done ; and in the meantime Baillie
went, with Lords Eleho and Burleigh, to dress the
regiments on the right. Not long after, the gene-
ral, being sent for by the committee, and having
94. BATTLE OF KILSYTH,
gone before them with the two lords who attend-
ed him, was informed that it was the general opi-
nion, in consideration of the rebels being now dis-
covered in retreat westwards, that that hill would
be the most advantageous position they could as-
Sume. It was in vain that Baillie exerted himself
to show the contrary; they all agreed, with the ex-
ception of Lord Balcarras, that the army should
be led forward to the hill.
Baillie immediately took measures for obeying
the command of his superiors. The horse and the
regular soldiers, who had stood at the right of the
army in its array, he ordered to face about to the
right and march on in their present order, intend-
ing that, when they arrived on their new ground,
they should face back to the left, and so resume
their first arrangement in the briefest possible space
of time, and with the greatest possible ease. The
great masses of volunteer foot moved in the same
way. Unfortunately, when they reached the hill,
although they received no impediment or disturb-
ance from the enemy, a great deal of confusion had
taken place in their arrangement; some of the re-
giments assuming places, at the command of Ar-
gyle, upon which Baillie had not calculated, while
certain individual soldiers took the liberty of
moving altogether at their own will throughout
the field; and thus, even at the moment when the
battle commenced, the general was totally unable
to make those comprehensive arrangements, orissue
those decisive orders, which are so necessary to
give an army even the chance of success in a pitch-
ed fight.”
Every external circumstance was, on the other
hand, favourable to Montrose. He had made a
deliberate choice of the ground which seemed best
BATTLE OF KILSYTH. 95
suited for his own views. He had taken posses-
sion of a cluster of cottages and gardens which lay
in advance of his position. He had prepared his
men in the most approved manner, by refresh-
ments and by encouraging speeches, for the ren-
COunter.
As the Covenanters were taking up their ground
on the opposite hill, he sent a trumpeter to ac-
quaint them that he was ready to give them bat-
tle; to which they answered, in their infatuation,
with a shout of joy and defiance.”
But, although Montrose and his men had both
alike expressed the strongest desire of coming to an
immediate engagement, a peculiar feature was now
observed in the appearance of the enemy, which at
first seemed calculated to restore the balance of
advantage, and therefore occasioned some depres-
sion of spirits in the royal host. The horse regi-
ment which first took up its position opposite to
them, was one of cuirassiers. When the royalists
saw the breast-plates of these men glittering in the
sun, they could not help expressing some reluc-
tance to charge them, complaining that they had
to fight men clad in iron, on whose persons their
swords could be of no avail. Montrose soon
heard the muttering which went along the line;
and he no sooner heard it, than his ready genius
suggested an idea, by which he might not only ob-
viate the evil effects which it was calculated to
produce, but even turn to his own advantage the
circumstance which occasioned it. “Gentlemen,”
he said to the cavalry around him, “ do you see
these cowardly rascals whom you beat at Tipper-
muir, at Auldearn, and at Alford 1 Their officers,
I declare, have at last found it impossible to bring
them again before you, without first securing them
96 HATTLE OF KILSY TH,
against your blows with coats of mail: To show our
contempt of them, we'll fight them, if you please,
in our shirts.”” With that, he threw off his own
coat and waistcoat, buckled up the sleeves of his
shirt, and, drawing his sword with an air of pecu-
liar resolution and ferocity, immediately stood be-
fore his army, a perfect living statue or model of
all that can be conceived terrific in the appearance
of a soldier. His cavalry, who heard his address,
were the first to imitate his example; and from
them the enthusiasm of the moment soon spread
to the remoter ranks of the Highlanders and Irish.
The proposal being warmly recommended by the
heat of the day, it was everywhere received with
applause. The horsemen contented themselves
with merely taking off their upper garments, and
buckling up their shirt sleeves; but the foot strip-
ped their whole persons, even to their feet, retain-
ing only their shirts, the skirts of which they tied
betwixt their legs, while they also bared their
arms to the shoulder. The people of this district
of Scotland still retain a terrible remembrance of
Montrose's naked army, which fought, they say,
more like butchers than soldiers.”
The battle commenced with a precipitate charge
of some of the Covenanting horse regiments upon
the cottage-gardens in which Montrose had plant-
ed his advanced guard. This was done before the
foot regiments marching in the rear had come up
to their places, and without any order from the
general, who, according to his own account, did
not think it yet time to give the proper word or
sign of battle. It was occasioned by a mistaken
notion which prevailed in this portion of the par-
liamentary army, that Montrose's men were draw-
ing themselves off along a concealed valley to the
4.
BATTLE OF KILSYTH. 97
west. They had soon occasion to rae their rash-
ness; for the royal musketeers fired upon them
with such effect from behind their walls, that they
were almost immediately obliged to turn back dis-
comfited. *
The Highlanders who stood nearest to this
point, when they perceived the Covenanters re-
tire, rushed up the hill, with the intention of as-
sisting the advanced party; and thus a party of
Montrose's troops made as grievous a mistake, by
acting without orders, as had just been committed
with fatal consequences by the Covenanters. But
here, it must be allowed, the erring party atoned by
their conduct for the impropriety of its principle.
Being charged, almost immediately after they came
up, by three large troops of horse, and a body of
about two thousand infantry, comprehending the
very flower of the Presbyterian army, they exhi-
bited so little apprehension, as to leap over the
wall which intervened between them; then, rush-
ing forward, in a cowering posture, to avoid the
bullets of the enemy, they actually met the attack
of the overwhelming force which had been sent to
annihilate them, face to face, and hand to hand;
apparently determined to take upon themselves the
whole duty of fighting the opposite army, and con-
tent that their general and companions should remain
behind, as mere witnesses of their valour. The
foremost man of this gallant but imprudent little
party was Donald, the son of John Muidartach,
the captain or chieftain of Clanranald. It is re-
corded of this intrepid youth, by the historian of
his family,” that, being at first behind the Mac-
leans, he burst fairly through that tardier clan,
with all his men, and, leaping a deep ditch, broke
in upon the serried host opposed to him. He was
WOL. II. I
98 BATTLE OF KILSY THI.
immediately followed by Patrick Macgregor, the
chief of that renowned clan, (who was surnamed
Caoch, on account of his mad valour, and whose
retainers on this day formed one regiment with the
men of Clanranald.) The Macleans were the
next who came up to the dangerous and unequal
contest. MacCol went only a little behind, lead-
ing a third body, with which, on seeing the two
first to be so grievously overmatched, he speedily
rushed forward to their assistance.”
But all the spirit and enthusiasm of this party,
even assisted as it was by their wild appearance,
would have soon proved of little avail against the
weighty host opposed to them, if Montrose him-
self had not taken measures for their relief. That
general, on seeing them advance, had been much
chagrined by their imprudence. Yet when once
he saw them engage with such spirit, his heart
could not long refuse to sympathize with and par-
don an act which was dictated by a feeling so kin-
dred to his own. Afraid, moreover, that if they
should be beat back, an example of flight might be
set before the eyes of his main body, he saw rea-
son, in prudence as well as in feeling, for sending
a party to their relief. Here, however, an unex-
pected difficulty occurred. No portion of his ar-
my seemed willing to undertake what appeared a
duty of such hazard.
In this exigency, and when the fate of the High-
land party, and consequently of the whole army,
seemed just arriving at a crisis, Montrose accom-
plished his object by one of those master-strokes
of military policy and address which distinguished
him so much as a commander. Riding up to his
faithful counsellor and friend, the Earl of Airly,
who was standing at the head of his family troop,
BATTLE OF KILSYTHI. 99
he exclaimed, “You see, my lord, into what a
hose-met these poor fellows have got themselves,
by their ill-advised daring. They must certainly
be trampled in the dirt by the enemy's horse, if
not speedily relieved. I venture to apply to your
lordship for this purpose, because the eyes of all
the officers are fixed upon you, as alone worthy of
such a piece of precedency, and because it seems
proper that an error which has been committed by
the fool-hardiness of youth, should be corrected by
the veteran discretion and considerate valour of so
venerable a warrior as your lordship. Forward, in
the name of God l and show these mad lads, that,
clever as they think themselves, they may still be
beholden occasionally to older men than them-
selves.” Lord Airly, without a moment's hesita-
tion, set off with his squadron of Ogilvies, to assist
the over-matched Highlanders; and with such spi-
rit did he make the charge, that the Covenanters
instantly gave back, and fortune again inclined in
favour of the royalists.
When Baillie saw his men reeling, he rode back-
wards to the rear, where the Fife regiments, and
other bodies, had been placed as a reserve, intend-
ing to bring them up to the support of the front.
But these unwilling soldiers no sooner saw their
horse give ground, than, thinking the day was ir-
recoverably lost, they broke and fled. At this mo-
ment, the main body of Montrose's army, seeing
the success of the Highland party and the Ogil-
vies, raised a terrific shout, and dashed forward
upon the remaining troops of the enemy. Depress-
ed by the irresolution of their fellows, and terrified
beyond measure by the appearance of the naked
and savage-looking royalists, these troops stood no
longer in a body, but, turning away from the bat-
.100 BATTLE OF KILSYTH,
tle, dispersed themselves in every direction over
the wide irregular country behind them.
Montrose's men immediately gave chase; and,
as they were in general more agile, and in fresher
condition than the fugitives, they overtook them,
and put them to death in great numbers. The
very horse of the Covenanters, among whom the
nobles and officers are said to have been foremost,
did a great deal of mischief to the foot, by riding
over them in their haste to escape. The number
slain in the battle, on either side, was very small;
but, during the chase, almost the whole six thou-
sand foot, who had composed the Covenanting ar-
my, fell under the cruel claymore. Their horse
alone escaped in any considerable numbers, the
royalists being so much impeded by the slaughter
of the foot, that they scarcely overtook any fugi-
tives who had the advantage of being mounted.
Among them, the officers and mobility, with hard-
ly any exception, achieved their escape; no per-
sons of distinction being left behind on the field,
besides Sir William Murray of Blebo, a gentleman
of the name of Arnot, and Colonels Dyce and
Wallace, all of whom received quarter, and were
honourably entertained by Montrose, who subse-
quently liberated them on parole. The fugitive
officers chiefly fled towards Stirling, which they at
first thought of attempting to hold out against the
enemy, though they afterwards saw it fit to seek
less conspicuous places of refuge. The Marquis
of Argyle did not stop till he reached the little
port of South Queensferry, upwards of twenty miles
from the fatal field, where, taking boat, he got on
board a vessel lying in the Frith of Forth, and im-
mediately causing the sails to be unfurled, stood
far out to the open sea. The cavalier historians
BATTLE OF KILSYTH. 101
remark, with malicious triumph, that this was the
third time that his lordship had been indebted to a
boat for protection from Montrose.
It would appear, from all accounts, that the car-
nage which followed this conflict, was by many de-
grees more extensive and unsparing than what had
ensued upon any other of Montrose's victories.
According to the Red Book of Clanranald—fit
name for a record of such doings—the royalists
“continued a great part of the day, pursuing and
killing the enemy.” The earliest translator of
Wishart, with still more emphatic simplicity of
expression, says that “the victorious pursuers had
the killing of them for fourteen miles;” a space
equal to twenty-five by English measurement.”
Wishart and Guthry make the number of the slain
amount to seven thousand ; and it was not pro-
bably much less. If we are to believe the writer
of the statistical account of the parish, many of
the peasantry were involved in the slaughter; and
even at the late period when the author wrote,”
a hundred and fifty years after the event, there
were still innumerable traditionary recollections
among the people, of the bloody circumstances of
the day. One has been particularized by the sta-
tist: An aged countryman having fled from the
scene of horror, with four sons, was overtaken by
the pursuers, and, being suspected by them of ha-
ving been engaged in the battle, although in reality
he was innocent, they immediately hewed him down
with their swords. His sons clung around him,
to shield his person, or plead for mercy; but they
were all cut to pieces in that very posture, and
now lie interred in one tomb."
The Fife regiments, numbering about three thou-
sand men, although placed in the rear, and the
* ) 2
102 BATTLE OF KILSYTH.
first to retreat, suffered particularly on this fatal day.
It would indeed appear, that a mere wreck or sha-
dow of this unfortunate body returned to the coun-
ty from which it had been so cruelly and basely
abstracted. A remark made, seventy years after,
by an aged Highlander who had been present and
assisted in their slaughter, may perhaps give the
reader a more vivid idea of the circumstances than
any rounded detail. “It was a braw day, Kil-
syth !” this veteran would say, with a grim smile;
“ at every stroke I gave with my broadsword that
day, I cut an ell o' breeks l’”—alluding to the
dress of his Lowland antagonists.
It is recorded, moreover, by the writer of the
Statistical Account of the parish of Anstruther, in
Fife, that so great an antipathy did the people of
that part of the country conceive and retain for the
military life, in consequence of the loss of their
friends at Kilsyth, that, during a space of twenty
years preceding 1790, when nearly a century
and a half had intervened since the dreadful day,
only one man out of the whole parish had been
known to become a soldier. w
The reader, when he peruses this bloody rela-
tion, may perhaps be disposed to inquire, why
Montrose did not rather spare the lives of his van-
quished countrymen, and content himself with
merely taking them prisoners.” The only answer
which can be returned to the question, is, that
having no garrisons or fortified towns in his in-
terest, where he could dispose of prisoners, and
finding that the jesuitism of his enemies taught
them to consider it no wrong to break a parole
with him, and even enter once more into service
against him, he was compelled to adopt a principle
of uncompromising extermination, as the only one
BATTLE OF KILSYTH. 103
which promised him the ultimate mastery over the
Covenanting government, at which he aimed. The
whole circumstances under which he fought—his
slight tenure of command over his forces, his ne-
cessity of rapid movements, his uncertain and per-
petually fluctuating strength, but, more than all,
his liability, and that of his men, to be seized every
day and put to death as traitors, demanded that he
should act in the way he did. The historians who
stigmatize his proceedings with such epithets as
savage and monstrous, seem to have quite forgot
that, at the very beginning of the campaign, his
enemies had placed him beyond the pale of ho-
mourable warfare—had reduced him, in fact, to
the condition of an outlaw or a pirate—by their
acts of excommunication and forfeiture. Could
it be unjust—was it not, rather, perfectly fair—
that an army which, if beaten, was sure to be hang-
ed, should, when victorious, put those who threat-
ened it with that fate to the sword P
It is, abstractly, very difficult for men sitting in
the peace and security of the present century, and
whose minds have only been accustomed to judge
of humanity in private life, to say what is humane
or what is inhumane, in a peculiar sort of warfare
which obtained in a remote and barbarous age.
The probability is—and the present writer, for his
own part, has not the slightest doubt that such
was Montrose's own sentiment upon the subject—
that the unsparing plan was, under the circum-
stances, that which promised the speediest conclu-
sion to the war, and which was therefore, in reali-
ty, the most humane. To show how differently,
at least, many men may think upon such a ques-
tion, it may be mentioned that, among the High-
landers, the descendants of the very men who
104. BATTLE OF KILSYTH.
acted with what is considered such unrelenting
truculence in this war, an idea very generally pre-
vails, that Montrose was too hesitating and too
humane a commander; that he even, by permit-
ting his own generous feelings to interfere too of—
ten with matters of general policy, protracted the
war to a length it would not have reached, had he
been every thing which they could have wished
him. “ A bloody war, a short one,” is a maxim
which they invariably quote, when alluding to this
question; and it is observable that, when they dis-
cuss the merits of the various commanders who
have at different times led them to battle against
the Saxon, they prefer, by many degrees, Alaster
MacCol, or the Wiscount Dundee, to him whom the
Lowland cavaliers have agreed to designate “the
great Marquis.” But it is perhaps enough to settle
this question in favour of Montrose, to remind the
reader of what seems to be now a recognised prin-
ciple in war of all descriptions, that no general who
studies to spare the effusion of blood, either in his
own army or that of his opponent, will ever be
very brilliantly successful.”
I 105 ||
CHAPTER V.
BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH.
Bast.—Methinks, your looks are sad, your cheer appall'd.
Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence 2
Be not dismay’d ; for succour is at hand.
- IHenry VI. Part I.
THE victory of Kilsyth, the last and greatest
Montrose ever gained, gave him for the time pos-
session of the whole of Scotland. As it deprived
the opposite party of every thing like an army, so
it completely broke up their government. Glen-
cairn and Cassilis now fled over to Ireland; Argyle,
Crawford, Lamark, and others, took refuge within
the fortified walls of Berwick. Their Parliament,
their General Assembly, every organ of their recent-
ly monstrous power, at once vanished; and nothing
was left behind but this red and triumphant soldier,
who, as the deeds he had done were next thing to
miraculous, appeared in the eyes of this supersti-
tious people a destroying angel, commissioned by
the Supreme Being to lay waste the land."
“Since the days of William Wallace,” says
Baillie, “ or rather since Fergus the Second, [a
period of fabulous Scottish history, when the whole
government was for a time dissolved, our land was
never in the present condition. * * * *
I confess,” he adds at another place, “I am ama-
106 BATTLE OF PHILIPHAU G H.
zed, and cannot see to my mind's satisfaction, the
reasons of the Lord's dealing with that land. The
sins of all ranks there I know to be great, and the
late mercies of God, spiritual and temporal, towards
them to have been many; but what means the
Lord,” adds this daring priest of the Scottish ta-
bernacle, “so far from the expectation of the most
clear-sighted, to humble us so low, and by his im-
mediate hand, I confess I know not.* * * * *
This shame,” he continues, “will not be put off
us for an age. The English contemn us much the
more : they have sent commissioners to craze New-
castle and Carlisle from us, all our places of garri-
sons but Berwick.”
It was the very worst result of Montrose's vic-
tory over their government, that the English, whose
favour they had taken so much pains and used such
unjustifiable measures to procure, and upon whom
they were so anxious to impose their own favourite
system of church-government, took occasion from
it to hold them cheap, and even to menace them
with a complete discharge from their service;
which they were now the better fitted to do, that
they had just gained a decided superiority over
the king at the battle of Naseby, and were on that
account enabled, as they thought, henceforth to
cope with the cavaliers single-handed. The Inde-
pendents, at least, who were at this period the
greatest enemies the Scots had to contend with
in their endeavours to establish Presbytery in Eng-
land, entertained these views, and cherished these
sentiments, without the least disguise.
The local disasters of the country were not less
grievous than the political. The slaughter of Kil-
syth had filled the country with lamentation. It
was even judged so supereminently disastrous an
BATTLE OF PHILIPHA. UGH, I07
affair, that, for the first time such a thing had ever
been done in Scotland, the general population went
into mourning on account of it. The plague, at
the same time, continued to ravage the central dis-
trict of the kingdom, including the capital and other
principal towns. “Never,” says Baillie, “was such
a pest seen in Scotland: That it should have
trysted [made an assignation with] the enemy at
that time and place, when we had most to do with
Leith and Edinburgh, was evidently God's hand.”
Montrose remained two days at Kilsyth to re-
fresh his men; and during that interval, the citizens
of Glasgow, who had much reason to fear his ven-
geance, sent two commissioners, Sir Robert Dou-
glas and Mr Archibald Fleming, to propitiate him,
by a profession of their submission to the royal
authority, as represented by his person, and to be-
seech his mercy upon their town, which they in-
treated him to honour with a visit. After such a
victory as that of Kilsyth, his first motion would
have unquestionably been towards the capital,
where, by seizing the seat of government, and
turning the artillery of the state, as it were, upon
the enemy which had just quitted it, he might be
said to have fixed himself in his conquest, almost
beyond the possibility of eradication. But, as
Edinburgh was for the present unapproachable, he
was obliged to content himself with seizing Glas-
gow; to which town, therefore, he marched on the
third day after the battle,
Previously to his removal from Kilsyth, he
thought proper to send Alaster MacCol, with a
strong party, into Ayrshire, for the purpose of dis-
persing the levies which had been there made
against him by the Earls of Cassillis and Glen-
cairn. At the approach of the major-general,
\ 08 BATTLE OF PHILIP HAU G. H.
these two noblemen took shipping for Ireland, and
their recruits retired to their separate homes. Mac-
Col was received by the whole country with the
warmest expressions of congratulation and sub-
mission, especially by all such as had the least oc-
casion to fear that their loyalty would be suspect-
ed. By none was he treated with more deference
than by the Countess of Loudoun, the wife of one
of the very triumvirate who might be said to have
managed the insurgent government from its be-
ginning. It is told of this lady, that, on being
visited by MacCol at Loudoun Castle, she em-
braced him in her arms, feasted him sumptuously,
and sent a servant with his party, to pay her re-
spects to the Marquis of Montrose.” Her lady-
ship, no doubt, anticipated the possibility of Mon-
trose visiting her husband's house and estate with
the fate which he had already awarded to those of
similar recusants.
Almost the whole of the south of Scotland paid
the same homage to the conqueror, and, it is to be
supposed, with exactly the same insincerity. At
Glasgow, he was presented with ten thousand
merks, and treated with the most abject politeness.
The counties of Lamark, Linlithgow, and Ren-
frew, compounded for mercy with sums of money
and promises of everlasting loyalty. Ayrshire
agreed to raise four thousand men for his service.
The very burghs of Ayr and Irvine, noted in all
time for famaticism, condescended to purchase his
mercy upon the same degrading terms. He re-
ceived them all graciously, and granted them the
protection they implored, after only exacting from
them an oath of fidelity to the king.
He stayed at Glasgow little more than a day;
it being found that, although he gave his men
1
BATTLE OF PHILI PHA. UGH. 109
strict orders not to plunder, and even punished
one or two such offences capitally, they could not
well resist the temptations which so closely sur-
rounded them while they remained in the midst
of a large and wealthy town. Being now anxious
to buy golden opinions from his countrymen, and
if possible cause them to soften the character
which his unsparing proceedings in the north had
procured him, he had resolved to astonish the
slaves who lay crouching at his feet with a cle-
mency they did not expect, rather than to take
the same severe measures with them which he
had taken with their brethren elsewhere. He
marched out of Glasgow, and encamped at a dis-
tance of twelve miles, on Bothwell Moor, leaving
with the citizens permission to mount a guard of
their own order upon the city, and to defend their
property against the attacks of his men by all the
means in their power.”
The city of Edinburgh having not yet sent in
its submission, although it had as great reason to
fear his anger as any other town in the kingdom,
he now dispatched a party under the Master of
Napier and Colonel Nathaniel Gordom, with or-
ders to summon it, and, in the event of its holding
out, to proceed against it with fire and sword. It
was another object of this expedition, to procure
the release of Lord Ogilvie, the Earl of Crawford,
and other noblemen and gentlemen, his friends
and adherents, who had lain there imprisoned ever
since the beginning of the campaign, and who had
latterly been in expectation of immediate execu-
tlOn.
Agreeably to his orders, the party thus dispatch-
ed, which chiefly consisted of horse, stopped at
the distance of a few miles from town, at once to
VO I, , II. K 4.
I FO IBATTLE OF PH I L II*H A U G H.
restrain the soldiers from all private acts of depreda-
tion, and to prevent them from catching the plague.
It then appeared that the citizens were not so much
delayed in their submission, by reluctance to make
it, as by the fear of its not being accepted—not so
much by the hope of defending themselves, as by
the despair of procuring mercy. Wishart, who
was one of the cavalier prisoners, may be permit-
ted to describe the scene of terror and alarm which
now took place in the town, and the negotiations
which subsequently were entered into for mercy;
to a great part of which he must have been an ear
and eye-witness.
“When the news of their approach reached the
town, an universal consternation seized all ranks ;
they despaired of procuring terms, and appeared
as frantic as if the city had been already in a blaze,
and an enraged enemy murdering and destroying
within its gates. Many, conscious of their guilt,
accused themselves as sacrilegious, perjured, and
ungrateful traitors, and unworthy of that clemency
and forgiveness for which they so ardently prayed.
“They privately made application to the pri-
soners, and, in the most humble manner, intreated
them, out of compassion to the place, which was
already half ruined by the pestilence, and to the
miserable remains of the inhabitants, that they
would intercede with Montrose, and by their good
offices avert that rage, which they now acknow-
ledged they had justly provoked. All their hopes,
they said, were centred in their undertaking this
generous office, as the only mean to preserve a sink-
ing city from utter destruction. They acknowled-
ged themselves guilty of all the crimes laid to their
charge, but solemnly protested that, should they at
this time experience his clemency and goodness,
E A TT L E OF PHILIPH A U G.H. | | 1
they should atone for their former rebellion by
the most exemplary loyalty, and implicit duty and
obedience. -
“The prisoners, whom, not long before, the
meanest of the mob had treated in the most con-
temptuous and despiteful manner, and devoted to
the gibbet, unmindful of the cruel treatment they
had received, gave words of encouragement to the
inhabitants, and told them, that neither the king
himself, nor Montrose his lieutenant, had any plea-
sure in the ruin and destruction of his subjects,
but earnestly wished and laboured for their safety
and prosperity, could they only be brought to see
it themselves. They advised them forthwith to
send commissioners to Montrose, to implore his
pardon, as nothing could more effectually contri-
bute to mollify the heart of a conqueror than a
speedy submission—promising to intercede with
Montrose in their behalf; and they did not doubt
but his great and generous soul would allow itself
to be overcome with the humble intreaties and
supplications of a distressed city.
“The citizens of Edinburgh, thus encouraged
with hopes of success, immediately convened the
town-council, in order to make choice of proper
commissioners to send to Montrose. These com-
missioners they sent along with the Earl of Craw-
ford and Lord Ogilvie, the two most distinguished
men among all the prisoners, earnestly imploring
the latter that they would use their interest with
the Lord-General in their behalf, thereby to pre-
serve a city already sore afflicted with the aven-
ging hand of Heaven ; at the same time wishing
destruction to themselves and their posterity, if
ever they should prove ungrateful for the favour,
or ungrateful to their benefactors.
| 12 BATTLE OF PHILIPHA U G. H.
“ These two noblemen cheerfully undertook
this office, to the great satisfaction of the whole
city; and, having joined the delegates, went out
to meet the Master of Napier. In his way to-
wards Edinburgh, the master had relieved his fa-
ther, wife, and sisters, as also Sir George Stirling
of Keir, his brother-in-law, from the prison of
Linlithgow, to which they had been sent by the
Covenanters from the castle of Edinburgh; and
being now attended by this agreeable company,
and by the city delegates, he returned directly to
Montrose.
“ Montrose was transported with joy at the
sight of his dearest friends, Crawford and Ogilvie,
whom he met with the tenderest embraces of
friendship, having been so long deprived of their
company and assistance. He congratulated them
on their safety and deliverance, and gave them all
the respect and accommodation possible, as a con-
solation, in some degree, for their long confine-
ment. On the other hand, they expressed the ut-
most gratitude to him, and extolled him as their
avenger and deliverer; both parties thus seeming to
vie with each other in mutual expressions of their
affection and esteem. The city delegates were
then admitted to audience; they made a free sur-
render to him of the town, and humbly depreca-
ted his vengeance, and implored his pardon and
forgiveness; promising, in name of the whole in-
habitants, an inviolable fidelity and obedience for
the future, and committing themselves and all their
concerns to his patronage and protection, which
they humbly intreated he would grant them. They
also promised immediately to release all the pri-
soners in their custody, and desired him to assure
himself, that any thing else he should desire of
BATTLE OF PHILIPHAU G H. | || 3
them should be instantly complied with. The
town, they said, had been almost depopulated by
a dreadful plague, so that no supplies of men
could be expected from it; but they were ready
to contribute all they could to defray the expense
of what troops he might raise in other places.
Above all, they most earnestly implored him to
intercede for them with their most gracious and
merciful king, to obtain his pity and pardon, and
that he would not condemn the whole city for the
crime of rebellion, into which they had been in-
volved by the craft and example of a few insidious
men, armed with power and authority. Montrose
gave them reason to hope for the royal forgiveness;
and the only conditions he demanded of them
were, 1st, Sacredly to observe their loyalty and
allegiance to his majesty for the future; 2d, To
renounce all correspondence with the rebels, whe-
ther within or without the kingdom; 3d, To sur.
render the castle of Edinburgh to the king's offi-
cers; and, 4th, That, as soon as they returned to
the city, they should set all the prisoners at li-
berty, and send them forward to his camp.
“ The first of these articles,” says Wishart,
“ they performed with all expedition; but, agree-
ably to their usual perfidy and ingratitude, they
did not ratify any of the rest.”
It is scarcely necessary to stop the narrative,
even for a moment, to point out the morale of this
truly humiliating picture of the conduct of the
city of Edinburgh; as, to every one who has read
the preceding chapters, it must be obvious that a
transaction involving more dissimulation and mean-
mess never before took place. But it may, perhaps,
be allowable to observe, that such transactions must
of necessity he always very frequent during pe-
K 2
} 14. BATTLE OF PHILIPH A U G H.
riods of civil war, and even during times of strong
political dissension ; because, over and above the
two factions who conduct the struggle, and who
are alone committed to live and die in it, there is
always a still larger third party, comprehending
the weak, the timid, and the indifferent, who are
content to accommodate their own sentiments to
those of the party which may acquire a temporary
power over them, and think any sacrifice of princi-
ple little enough to ensure them continued posses-
sion of life and its good things. It seems certain,
that so long as there is a diversity of opinions and
interests in the community, there will occasionally
happen crises when a civil war is unavoidable; but
mo party should ever lose sight of this awful con-
sideration, as a means of moderating their mutual
rancour, that, evil as many things appear when the
nation is in a state of tranquillity, they must be
by a thousand degrees more tolerable than those
innumerable ills which overtake both the minds
and the persons of the people after an appeal has
been made to the sword; ills, of which not the
least is that wide-spread hypocrisy—that unmanly
habit of dissembling, which must obtain, in such a
case, among the greater part of the nation, and of
which so notable an instance has just been pre-
sented to the reader.
Montrose remained encamped at Bothwell, re-
ceiving the homage of the country around, till the
3d of September. During his residence there, he
was honoured with several communications from
the king; in particular, with one of a highly flat-
tering nature. Charles, now fully alive to the
great merits of Montrose, and sensible that he had
done more for the royal cause than any other man
of his country, thought proper to honour him with
BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH. l 15
an extended commission, as “Lieutenant-Gover-
nor of Scotland, and General of all his Majesty's
Forces there ;” by which he was empowered to
raise and command forces in Scotland, to march,
if expedient, into England and act against such
Scottish subjects as were in rebellion there, also
to exercise unlimited power over the kingdom of
Scotland, to pardon or condemn state criminals as
he pleased, and to confer the honour of knighthood
upon such as he thought worthy of it. By ano-
ther commission, he empowered him to call a par-
liament on the 28th of October next, at Glasgow,
where he, as royal commissioner, might consult
with the king's friends regarding the further prose-
cution of the war and the settlement of the king-
dom. These commissions, the first of which bears
to have passed the seal at Hereford on the 25th of
June, were carried to Scotland by Sir Robert Spot-
tiswood, the son of Archbishop Spottiswood, a
zealous loyalist, who had been originally Lord Pre-
sident of the Court of Session, but who, having
been compelled by the pressure of the times, like
many other men of peaceful professions, to appear
in scenes of bustle and danger, had latterly accom-
panied the king under the character of his Secre-
tary of State for Scotland. The route by which
the precious documents were brought from the
hands of King Charles to those of the Marquis of
Montrose, gives a vivid idea of the state of the
country, and the danger of travelling through it at
this unhappy period: Sir Robert had been obliged,
for the safety of his person, to pass from Oxford
into Wales, from thence to the Isle of Man, from
thence to Lochaber in the West Highlands, and
from thence through Athole towards Bothwell
Kirk; being conducted on his last stage by a
I 16 BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH.
party of Highlanders. When he arrived at the
camp, Montrose held a grand review of his troops;
after which the commissions were delivered to
him in a ceremonious manner, beneath the royal
standard. Montrose afterwards put them into the
hands of Archibald Primrose, clerk of the Com-
mittee of Estates, for registration in the books
of Parliament; that gentleman having joined him,
along with the Justice-Clerk, Hamilton of Orbis-
ton, for the purpose, as has since been supposed,
of betraying his councils to the enemy. When
the ceremony was over, he made a short speech to
the army, and immediately took advantage of the
new powers with which he was vested, to knight
Alaster Macdonald, (MacCol,) the favourite hero
of at least the Highland part of his forces.
About the same time that Montrose received
this commission, he was honoured with communi-
cations from the king, of later date, disclosing to
him the plans which his Majesty had formed for
his subsequent conduct. The gist of these was,
that he should march into the Border counties,
where there were a number of loyal noblemen pos-
sessed of great territorial influence, as the Marquis
of Douglas, and the Earls of Hartfell and Aman-
dale, in the West Border, and the Earls of Home,
Roxburghe, and Traquair, in the East ; that these
noblemen having joined him with their tenantry,
he should break down upon the Scottish army in
the north of England, and endeavour to produce a
diversion of the English Parliamentary forces to-
wards that quarter.
But before he could put his project in execution,
some circumstances occurred which considerably
weakened the prospect of its success. The Scot-
tish leaders at Berwick had now resolved, as a
BATTLE OF PHILI PHAUGH, | l'7
desperate effort for rescuing their country, to bring
down upon him from England the whole of the
powerful body of horse which had been so effec-
tive at the battle of Long Marston Moor; calcu-
lating, with that force, so well qualified as it was
to compete with his nimble and desultory bands,
at length to procure the victory which so many
armies of militia and even of disciplined infantry
had already fought for in vain. At the head of
this body was General David Leslie, a kinsman of
the old Earl of Leven, who was now rising fast
into favour with the Covenanters, and who had,
by his superior conduct at the great fight just men-
tioned, almost succeeded at once to the whole
glory of his venerable relative." Leslie had, by
the 1st of September, reached Berwick, on his way
to Scotland, with an army of cavalry numbering
not much less than six thousand.
To meet such a force with effect, Montrose
would have required all the forces with which
he had fought the battle of Kilsyth, and either
a few hundreds of additional horse, or a consi-
derable advantage of ground. Unfortunately, at
this very moment he was deserted by a great
number of his old forces, instead of being joined
by any new. Three thousand of his Highlanders,
partly from Athole, and partly from Argyle and
the districts adjacent, at once left his camp, under
the conduct of Sir Alaster Macdonald ; the men
induced by a desire of providing winter quarters
and food for their families, many of whom had been
rendered destitute and houseless by the enemy,
while MacCol himself was inspired with a wish of
revenging upon the Campbells the treachery and
cruelty with which they had treated his friends in
the Western Islands.” The Earl of Aboyne, more-
| 18 I3 ATTLE () [' PHILIPH A U G FI,
over, took this opportunity to go northward with
his followers, in order to convoy his father from
his place of concealment in Sutherland to Mon-
trose's camp :" a project which he had formed im-
mediately after the battle of Alford, but which had
then been postponed for a time. .
His army thus diminished, it became a great
question with Montrose, whether he should trust
himself on a recruiting expedition through the Bor-
der counties, at the risk of being attacked in his
weakness by Leslie's horse, or adopt the more
cautious expedient of retiring to the confines of the
Highlands, and there waiting for the return of his
mountaineers and Gordons. It is probable that,
if he had not just before gained six great victories,
he would not have hesitated a moment to take the
last measure ; but that, as the case stood, his heart
braced by repeated success to any danger, and his
mind farther inflamed with a desire of fulfilling
with all expedition the grand scheme of conquest
laid out for him by his sovereign, he was compel-
led, as it were, by a necessity of his nature, to take
the more adventurous course. We are almost con-
firmed in this theory by the overweening confidence
which the historian of the family of Gordon, upon
information derived from one of his adherents, de-
scribes him as at this period entertaining regarding
his own resources and luck as a general ; a con-
fidence so overweening as to be offensive to many
of his best friends, who felt it to be an indication
that he did not appreciate their assistance in the
way he ought to have done, and which was there-
fore, according to Gordon, one of the causes of the
desertion of the Earl of Aboyne. The theory is
farther confirmed by the circumstance, that he left
his camp at Bothwell, for the purpose of proceed-
J3 ATTLE OF PHILI PHAU G H. I 9
ing upon his recruiting expedition, the very day
after the Highlanders bad deserted him.”
Some days before removing, he had sent the
Marquis of Douglas and Lord Ogilvie to raise the
men of the West Marches, and had written letters
to the Earls of Home, Roxburghe, and Traquair, re-
questing them to hasten their levies, in conformi-
ty to the design and wishes of the king. He seems
to have finally satisfied himself in his purpose of
marching southward, by the answer sent by these
noblemen to his request, which bore, that, although
they exerted themselves to the utmost of their
power, they found they could never succeed to the
extent they wished, till he himself should encou-
rage them by his presence. Some historians, as
Wishart and Guthry, have roundly asserted, that
Home and Roxburghe, if not also Traquair, were
now actuated by a secret dealing with the Cove-
manters, to draw him south, that he might fall into
Leslie's hands. But, though certain circumstances
give this assertion an air of probability, it seems
more likely that, if they were really disinclined to
the king's service on this occasion, it proceeded
from no other cause than a jealousy of Montrose,
or else a well-grounded fear that, even with their
assistance, he could not stand his ground against
Leslie.
It ought to be mentioned, that, according to
Guthry's account of this transaction, it was part
of the scheme, that the Earl of Tulliebardine, a
zealous Covenanter, (ancestor of the Duke of
Athole,) should raise all his vassals, and all the
friends of the Covenant north of the Forth, to act
as a sort of check behind, and prevent Montrose
from retreating to the mountains, in the event of
his escaping Leslie.
120 BATTLE OF PHILIPHAU G. H.
With troops, therefore, diminished from the five
thousand he had at Kilsyth, to only seven hundred
foot and about two hundred mounted gentlemen,"
but inspired by a vague expectation of finding great
reinforcements either ready to join him, or fit to
do so in two days after he should appear among
them, Montrose, on the 4th of September, left be-
hind him the great natural fastness which had af-
forded him so much protection during his whole
campaign, and marched towards an open country,
where he was almost sure of being taken at a dis-
advantage by the powerful enemy which was co-
ming to oppose him. At Cranstoun Kirk, in Mid-
Lothian, he was informed that Leslie had reached
Berwick, and also learned, by means of an inter-
cepted letter, the scheme which had been concerted
to cut off his retreat to the north ; yet such was
his infatuated confidence in his own powers, and
such a reliance did he place on the efforts of the
Border nobles, that, instead of hesitating for a
while to consider the propriety of the step, he only
took it with the greater precipitation; an intention
which he had previously entertained to remain at
Cranstoun during the ensuing day (Sunday), in or-
der to hear Dr Wishart preach, being mow abandon-
ed, that he might prosecute his march with all speed.
In the vale of Gala Water, which he now de-
scended, he was joined by some small bands which
the name of Douglas was there yet powerful enough
to raise. But as he advanced, he learned with
great chagrin, that a considerable body which the
marquis and Lord Ogilvy had raised in the West
Marches, was almost completely dissipated by de-
sertion. The Earl of Traquair met him at Gala-
shiels, and gratified him with a profession of warm
loyalty and of affection for his own person; and
BATTLE OF PHILIPHAU GH, 12 1
next day he was joined by a troop of excellent
horse, which that nobleman had raised in Peebles-
shire, and which he had placed under the command
of his eldest son, Lord Linton. Traquair, at the
same time, undertook a task which he did not af-
terwards perform very well—that of advertising
him of David Leslie's motions.
Surprised, as he advanced southward, to hear
no intelligence from Home and Roxburghe, whom
he expected to have at least come to welcome him
to the country, he resolved to march towards their
respective places of residence, and force them to
bestir themselves. But the disinclination or fear
of these noblemen caused them, before he approach-
ed, to surrender themselves to David Leslie ; a
measure of caution which enabled them to pre-
serve their apparent fidelity to the king, and yet
escape serving his general, while at the same time
it tended to ingratiate them with the Covenanters.
They of course pretended, in this case, to have
been surprised by their captors; but it was after-
wards known that Roxburghe had himself sent to
Berwick for the two troops of horse which seized
him.
On finding himself thus disappointed, Montrose,
if we are to believe Sir Robert Spottiswood,” “was
not very much amazed.” Yet, knowing the dan-
ger of his present situation, he speedily adopted
the resolution of marching back with all speed to
the Highlands, or, in the event of that retreat be-
ing cut off, towards the Western Border, where he
believed he might be rescued by a large troop of
horse which the king had given him some prospect
of sending down for his relief. With this view, he
marched westward to Jedburgh, and from thence
still farther westward to Selkirk, where, on the
VOL. II, L
| 22 BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH.
might of the 12th of September, he encamped on an
open plain called Philiphaugh, himself lodging with
all his horse within the town.
It may be proper to describe the ground on
which he thus pitched himself, and on which he
was destined next day to lose, in one hour, the re-
sult of a twelvemonth's hard-won triumph; be-
cause, if the reader could conceive a full idea of
the locale, he might be disposed to exculpate this
great general from the imputation so often thrown
upon him, that his defeat was owing in some mea-
sure to a defect of judgment in the choice of his
ground. Philiphaugh is simply, as the last syllable
of the name implies, a level piece of alluvial ground,
stretching along the north bank of the Ettrick, for
about two miles above the junction of that minor
river with the Tweed. As high and inaccessible
grounds rise above it on both sides, it may be
described, in other words, as a deep recess in the
mountainous region which hems in the river Tweed
to the south, or as the embouchure of a small glen
which opens upon the greater vale of that distin-
guished stream. Montrose pitched himself at the
inmost extremity of the recess, (at a place called
the Hareheadwood,) where, having the narrow
passes of the Ettrick and Yarrow behind him, for
secure retreat, he could only be approached in one
way; namely, by the long expanse of Philiphaugh,
which lay before him, and over which no enemy
seemed able to make a sudden enough advance to
surprise him. To make his post still securer,
while he rested the left wing of his little army
upon the wooded heights of the Harehead, where
it was impossible for cavalry to turn his flank, he
caused trenches to be thrown up on the plain be-
low for the protection of the right. Directly in
BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH. | 23
his rear, the wild and lonely vale of Yarrow
opened off from the wider strath in which he lay ;
and at the distance of a mile in advance of his
camp, the town of Selkirk crowned a height above
the Ettrick, forming an excellent position for his
advanced-guard and head-quarters, because it lay
directly betwixt his army and the point from which
he conceived it likely or possible for Leslie to ap-
proach him.
The precautions which he took to guard against
a sudden approach on the part of Leslie, were not
perhaps so very careful or judicious as his disposi-
tions. It had always been his custom throughout
the campaign, and he had no doubt found his ac-
count in it, to see the watches set every night with
his own eyes, and to send off the scouts with di-
rections and precautions delivered directly from his
own mouth. On this fatal eve, altogether igno-
rant of Leslie's motions, but only entertaining a
yague apprehension, that, as his force consisted al-
together of cavalry, he might make a very sudden
advance, he conceived that he might, without great
risk, depute these duties for one might to his offi-
cers, while he himself attended to a task of a
more pressing nature—that of preparing against
next morning a set of dispatches for the king,
which he had just found an opportunity of sending
off by a peculiarly sure hand. The officers whom
he thus trusted being men of long-tried abilities
and discretion, and the scouts being chiefly the
vassals of the Earl of Traquair, and therefore per-
fectly well acquainted with the country, he no
doubt conceived that, even on an evening when
danger had the appearance of being more instant
and impending, he might have acted as he did. It
must have at least appeared to him that there was
124, BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH,
a more urgent necessity for his getting the king
apprised of his present circumstances, in order that
mo time might be lost in procuring that royal sup-
ply of cavalry, upon which he depended for relief
in the event of his retiring into Dumfries-shire,
than there was for his executing a piece of camp-
duty in person, which to all appearance could be
delegated for one night with perfect safety.
Acting under the influence of considerations like
these, he sat up the whole night, writing his dis-
patches, while his scouts scoured the country in
all directions for nearly twenty miles. Before morn-
ing, he himself received several vague reports as
to the motions of the enemy, probably from the
country people; and these he took care to dispatch,
ever and amon as he received them, to his officers
at the camp. But he was always re-assured, by
attestations from the scouts who came dropping in,
that “they wished damnation to their souls, if they
had any where found the least appearance of an
an enemy.”
Strange to say, Leslie was this very might lying
with four thousand horse at Melrose, only six
miles from the royalist camp. He had, as Mon-
trose learned at Kelso, marched forward from Ber-
wick into Scotland, intending to plant himself at
Stirling, so as to cut off the retreat of the enemy
to the Highlands: On the day that Montrose
marched from Jedburgh to Selkirk, Friday, Sep-
tember 12th, he had held a council of war at
Gladsmuir, in East Lothian, where this course was
ultimately determined on. A letter, however, ha-
ving reached him immediately after the council was
held, by which he was apprised of Montrose's
weakness, and of his intention to retreat into Dum-
fries-shire, the Presbyterian general judged it ex-
BATTLE OF PHILIPH A U G. H., 125
pedient all at once to change the resolution which
had just been entered into, and make a direct, and,
if possible, a sudden attack upon the royalists; it
appearing to him improbable that he could ever
have an opportunity of fighting them afterwards
with greater advantage on his own side. On that
day, therefore, instead of marching on towards Stir-
ling, he turned short about from Gladsmuir, and,
falling upon Montrose's own track down the vale
of Gala, reached the village of Melrose, upon the
banks of the Tweed, not long after the enemy had
encamped in the neighbourhood of Selkirk. A
mist of unusual density prevented his approach
to the village from being observed by Montrose's
scouts; and after settling himself for the night, he
either lay so still, and took such certain measures
for cutting off the spies who approached him, or
was so much favoured in his designs by the treach-
ery of these intelligencers, that the royal general
did not discover the fact till it was too late to ob-
viate its evil effects.
How Montrose's scouts, who are represented as
having ranged the whole might to a distance of near-
ly twenty miles, should have failed to observe an
enemy of such strength, who lay at the next vil-
lage, and within the distance of six miles, is a
matter which cannot now be explained with cer-
tainty. There are three modes of accounting for
it ; the first supposes it to have been occasioned
by mere want of vigilance on the part of Montrose,
his officers, and scouts; by the second, it is conjec-
tured that Leslie had been able to cut off all the
scouts who came in his direction; while the third
roundly asserts it to have been entirely owing to
the treachery of the Earl of Traquair. Laying
aside the first and second theories as improbable,
L 2
| 26 BATTLE OF PHILIPH A U G. H.
or as merely the gratuitous conjectures of moderm
authors, it must be acknowledged that the third,
which has been started and insisted upon by con-
temporary writers, (Wishart and Guthry,) seems
the only one by which the wonder can be ration-
ally accounted for. To exculpate the earl, it is
true, Gordon has shown that, after the suppression
of the insurrection, he was fined in a very heavy
sum by the Covenanters, as a punishment for his
temporary alliance with Montrose. Yet, on the
other hand, when we take into account his vacil-
lating conduct in the earlier years of the war, as
also the circumstance (stated by Guthry”) of his
withdrawing his troops on some pretext from
Philiphaugh immediately before the battle, toge-
ther with the disrespect in which he was ever af-
ter this period held by both Covenanters and Royal-
ists, it must be confessed that there still remains
considerable probability in the theory which has
represented him as betraying Montrose. $
Whether Leslie was or was not favoured by a
treacherous party in the enemy's camp, it is at
least certain that he was much indebted to a na-
tural accident for the triumph he was about to gain.
He was able to advance from Melrose to a spot
within half a mile of Selkirk, without being dis-
covered, by reason of one of those thick mists which
so often darken the mornings of September in
Scotland. His route lay close along the south
bank of the Tweed till he came to the confluence
of the Ettrick with that river. It was just day-
break when he reached that point. He then con-
tinued his insidious march up along the south-east
bank of the Ettrick, till, coming to a place about
a mile short of Selkirk, he is affirmed, by credible
tradition, to have encountered a countryman well
BATTLE OF PHILI I’HAUG H. 127
affected to the Covenant, who undertook to con-
duct him across the Ettrick to the plain, or haugh,
on the opposite side, and so on towards the camp
of the enemy, by a path which it was not probable
that they were watching with great strictness.
Leslie saw reason to follow the advice of this
guide, because to have advanced upon Selkirk, in
pursuance of his present route, would have tended
to warn the enemy, by alarming his advanced
guards there stationed. The result of his precau-
tion was, that he had almost got beyond Selkirk,
so as to be nearly betwixt Montrose's head-quarters
and his camp, before that general was aware of his
approach, or even of his presence in the country.
The first notice Montrose had of his advance
was what he received from the firing of the out-
posts at Leslie's troops, which, as he was not
above half a mile from the spot, easily reached
his ears. Immediately on hearing that sound, so
well calculated to alarm him, he rushed from his
quarters, flung himself upon the first horse he saw,
and, galloping down the steep descent on which
the town is situated, soon reached the camp where
his presence was so necessary. Fortunately, Les-
lie had not yet advanced so far as to intervene be-
twixt Selkirk and the camp, or he must have been
fairly prevented from putting himself at the head
of his troops, if not also taken prisoner or slain.
The iron-clad bands of the Covenant were only
advancing along the haugh to the north-east of
Selkirk, at the moment he left the town. They
were, however, already engaged in a skirmish with
the retiring videttes.
When the marquis reached his troops, he found
that his men had already risen, and were engaged
in the duties preparatory to a removal of their
128 13 ATTLE OF PHII L I PH A U G H .
camp; it having been announced to them the night
before, that they were that morning to begin, at an
early hour, the proposed march into Dumfries-
shire. This was so far fortunate; for, although a
preparation to march was a very different thing
from a preparation to fight, and the horse, in par-
ticular, were all dispersed along the neighbouring
fields, eating their morning meal of grass, and
therefore in the worst possible condition to com-
mence a battle, the case would certainly have been
much worse if Leslie had surprised them in their
beds.
Yet, after all, it may be asserted with some con-
fidence, that, even supposing there had been no
surprise in the case, but the whole royalists had
been deliberately drawn up to receive the charge
of the Presbyterian army, there was but a very
poor chance that a body of less than a thousand
foot and five hundred horse—for such was the
miserable amount of Montrose's muster on this
disastrous day—should keep their ground against
four or five thousand well armed and well discip-
lined cavalry, whose name their exploits had al-
ready made terrible. To weaken still farther this
wretched chance, many of the royalists, both horse
and foot, were raw and ill-trained militia; men
dragged into a service they detested, and who
looked upon the party they had to fight with as
next thing to irresistible. A Lowland gentleman,”
who was present at Leslie's muster the day before
on Gladsmuir, has commemorated that to his ima-
gination, and those also of his friends, (the gentry
of Lothian and the Merse, there present,) the sight
of so many men clad in steel, back and breast,
with helmets, and moving in such regular order,
and with such a fearless demeanour, was the most
BATTLE OF PHIL 1 PHA. UG H. 129
awful thing that could be conceived. If such was
the impression of a set of unconcerned spectators
at a mere review, it may well be conceived that
men of the same order, who were to be exposed to
the same troops in a mortal struggle, would regard
them with a feeling partaking still more of terror.
Such would really appear to have been the case;
for, at the first sound of the enemy's trumpet, and
the first glance which was got of their solid and
long-extending lines, the late levies, horse and foot,
retired in confusion towards their own country,
leaving only a few of their officers, men of ho-
mourable feeling and of personal zeal in the cause,
to assist the meagre bands of Irish and mounted
gentlemen, which Montrose then had to oppose to
the enemy. -
It was about half an hour after day-break, (Sa-
turday, the 13th of September, 1645,) when Les-
lie's troopers made their attack upon the royal
army. The point which they chose to assail was
the right wing, which has been already described
as projecting upon the plain of Philiphaugh, and as
being partially covered by trenches. There, as it
was the weakest point, Montrose also took care to
pitch himself and his small band of cavalry; the
left wing, as already mentioned, being safe amidst
the woods which clothed the heights of Harehead.
The charge was made with all the confidence in-
spired by superior numbers, and the pride of having
accomplished a surprise. It was not, however, at-
tended with the instantaneous success which might
have been expected from these premises. Mon-
trose, at the head of about a hundred and fifty gal-
lant cavaliers, most of whom were gentlemen by
birth and soldiers by profession, met the huge
force of the heroes of Long Marston with a firm-
130 BATTLE OF PHILIPH A U G.H.
mess perfectly admirable. He even managed, with
this little band, to repulse and stagger the great
squadrons which attacked him. Again they came
up to the charge; and again they were driven
back. Unfortunately, the bravery displayed by
this desperate few, was all in vain. The detach-
ment which Leslie had sent, by the direction of
his guide, to make a circuit and fall on the rear of
the royalists, at this moment came down the hill
behind the left wing, and, breaking furiously upon
that portion of the army, at once decided the fate
of the day. The foot, after a brief attempt at re-
sistance, retired in a body to a position upon the
face of the hill, where they thought they might
secure themselves from the attacks of cavalry, or
at least hold out till they got good terms of sur-
render; and the brave cavaliers who had defended
them on the right, finding themselves in danger of
being completely surrounded and cut off, broke
away, while it was yet time, through such portions
of the field as seemed clearest of the enemy, each
providing as he best might for his own safety.
Montrose was at first so overwhelmed with vexa-
tion at seeing the rout of his army, that, in a sort
of despair, he resolved to remain upon the field and
sell his life as dearly as he could to the victors.
Thirty brave friends stuck close to him with the
same purpose; and at the head of these he had
proceeded to put his design in execution by attack-
ing various large parties of the enemy, many of
whom fell beneath their desperate swords. But
at length, after acting thus for some time without
finding his life in great danger, he adopted another
resolution. It struck his mind that this surprise
and defeat, as it involved but a small portion of
his adherents, could hardly be decisive of the fate
BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH. 13 I
of the royal cause in Scotland, provided that he
should survive to put himself at the head of those
who remained. The Marquis of Douglas, more-
over, intreating him at the same moment to spare
himself for the sake of his friends, the whole of
whom must be ruined if he should be taken from
their head, he was prevailed upon to prefer—what
few men under similar circumstances have failed
to prefer—flight to death.”
Having thus changed his resolution, he immedi-
ately gave the word to retreat; and so respecta-
l:le was his appearance even in that degraded con-
dition, that the mass of Leslie's army made no at-
tempt to oppose him. Only a few light troops,
inspired by a wish to seize the great enemy of their
party, presumed to give him any annoyance. Upon
them he turned several times; with effect which
made them repent of their temerity; and he finally
got clear off with three of them as his prisoners, a
captain of horse and two cornets, each of them
carrying a standard. He pursued a line of retreat
directly opposite to the point from which Leslie
had approached him, but not towards the district
which he had previously designed to retire to.
Having probably judged it now most expedient
that he should retire to the Highlands, and endea-
vour to raise the northern loyalists, or at least find
refuge amongst them, he passed over the wild hill
of Minchmuir by the old road betwixt the towns
of Selkirk and Peebles, a direction which pointed
as near as might be towards the passes from the
low to the high countries. -
It was afterwards noted as a remarkable circum
stance that the queen (Henrietta Maria) was sing-
ing a grand “Te Deum Laudamus” in one of the
churches of Paris, for the victory which heaven
l 32 BATTLE OF PHILIPHAU G. He
had vouchsafed to her husband's arms at Kilsyth,
on the very morning when Montrose thus lost the
whole fruits of that victory on the field of Philip-
haugh.”
When the battle had ceased by the retirement
of the royalists from the field, the great mass of
Leslie's army, instead of troubling themselves with
a pursuit, began with might and main to sack the
baggage, which, as may be supposed, fell entire
into their hands. Unfortunately for their fame,
they also thought proper to massacre all the hum-
ble and helpless personages, women, children, and
scullion-boys, whom they found in attendance upon
that department of the camp. When these duties
were fully performed, they were called to environ
and attempt to reduce the body of royalist foot,
which, as already mentioned, had retired to a good
position upon the side of the hill, and which seem-
ed yet inclined to dispute the day, by occasionally
firing their pieces at the troopers who happened to
approach them.
This occasioned a transaction of a most infamous
nature, the blame of which, divided as it is be-
twixt Leslie and a clergyman who accompanied
him, must for ever stain both their names alike.
The party of foot, having surrendered after some
little resistance, as prisoners of war, were conduct-
ed to the court-yard of the neighbouring baronial
fortress of Newark, and there placed under a proper
guard. To this place, afterwards, the whole of the
victorious army was brought, to hear a sermon
which a Presbyterian divine was about to give in
congratulation of their triumph. There is no au-
thority for saying that the text chosen on this oc-
casion was the fifteenth chapter of the first book of
Samuel, where Saul is represcnted as losing the
BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH. 133
empire of Judah for baving spared the captive kine
of the Amalekites; but it is at least certain that,
in the course of his sermon, the preacher attempt-
cd in the warmest language to show that the cle-
mency displayed by General Leslie towards the
royalist prisoners, was calculated to injure him in
the same degree in the eyes of the Almighty, as
Saul's tenderness for the fat of oxen and rams. He
had even the daring impiety, and the singular in-
humanity, to exclaim, in the words which Samuel
used to reprobate Saul's remissness, “What mean-
eth this bleating of the sheep in mine ears, and the
lowing of the oxen which I hear?”—pointing at
the same time to the herd of captives, who were,
in all probability, scoffing at his sermon from be-
hind their enclosure, or else, perhaps, lamenting
aloud the unfortunate and dangerous circumstances
in which they were placed." Leslie, it must be
confessed, had not been accustomed, either in his
service abroad, or in his English campaign, to de-
stroy his prisoners; nor had the dissensions of the
kingdom yet proceeded in any instance to such a
violent and dreadful extreme. He might, more-
over, have quoted with effect against the dictates
of the preacher the expression used by the amiable
Saul on another but similar occasion—the destruc-
tion of the Ammonites; when, it being proposed
by his soldiers to put to death all who had shown
a disposition to cavil at his election to the sove-
reignty of Israel, he exclaimed, “ There shall not
a man be put to death this day; for to-day the
Lord hath wrought salvation in Israel.” It would,
however, appear that Leslie was a man of such
callous feelings, as not easily to be prevented by
considerations of humanity from adopting any mea-
sure which seemed calculated either to ingratiate
VOL. II, M
i 34 BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH.
himself with his constituents, or to promote the
general interests of his army. He accordingly
yielded to the solicitations or commands of his
ghostly associates, by ordering a party of his troop-
ers to fire upon the prisoners till they should all be
destroyed.”
The order was obeyed with punctual exactness;
and, to add to the testimony of authentic history
regarding so monstrous a deed, tradition still points
out a field in the neighbourhood of the castle,
which the country-people, in commemoration of
the massacre, entitle “ the Slain Men's Lee;” that
having apparently been the spot where the inhu-
man transaction took place, or at least where the
bodies of the slain were buried. To confirm still
farther the truth of what many will find difficulty
in believing, there was discovered, since the com-
mencement of the present century, an immense
mass of human bones, buried a little below the
surface, at the very spot which tradition had pre-
viously pointed out as the scene of the massacre.”
It is a somewhat remarkable circumstance re-
garding the battle of Philiphaugh, that although
the victory was so complete on the part of Leslie,
he lost more of his standards than the vanquished.
While Montrose, as already mentioned, was so
singularly fortunate as to capture two cornets with
their ensigns in the very heat of his flight, Leslie's
army did not succeed in taking one of Montrose's
standards even in the height of his triumph. Mon-
trose had had just two ; and they were preserved
in this way: That which belonged to his infantry
was rescued by an Irish soldier of peculiar strength
and spirit, who no sooner perceived that the day
was lost, than, stripping the precious cloth from
its pole, and wrapping it round his body, (which
BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH. 135
was otherwise naked,) he dashed through the
thickest of the enemy with his drawn sword in his
hand, and got clear off. By an extraordinary ex-
ertion, he contrived to overtake Montrose that
night, and to gratify him by delivering it into his
own hands; when the general was so much pleased
with the gallantry of the man, that he received
him into his life-guard, and conferred upon him the
office of carrying the standard which he had re-
deemed.
The other ensign, that which had been carried
before the horse, was preserved by its bearer, the
Honourable William Hay, brother to the Earl of
Kinnoul, a youth of singularly gallant spirit; who,
also taking the precaution to strip it off the pole,
and having enveloped his person with it, broke
through the enemy, and escaped to the borders of
England; where, having skulked for some time,
he afterwards, under the conduct of a brother roy-
alist, Robert Touris of Inverleith, contrived to re-
gain the north, and deliver this flag into Montrose's
own hands.”
Montrose had the gratification, before he got
over the hill of Minchmuir, to be joined by above
a hundred of his straggling cavalry, and thus to ac-
quire a strength sufficient to protect him from the
insults of the country people. He first drew bri-
dle, ten miles from the field of battle, at Traquair,
the seat of the Earl of Traquair; when, having sent
in a friend to desire his lordship and his son to
come out and confer with him, he was mortified to
hear that they were both from home; although it
was afterwards discovered, if we are to believe
Bishop Wishart, that they were in reality within,
but thought proper to deny themselves. Without
stopping at Traquair, the dejected little party rode.
136 BATTLE OF PHILIPPI AU G. H.
on to Peebles, where they spent the night. Next
morning, with a party increased by the accession
of stragglers to nearly two hundred horse, Mon-
trose was conducted into Clydesdale; from whence
he soon after succeeded in reaching the Highlands.
Among the friends who saved themselves along
with him, were the Marquis of Douglas, the Earls
of Airly and Crawford, and the Lords Erskine,
Fleming, and Napier. He had, however, to regret
that some of the very best and most eminent of
his friends, as the Earl of Hartfell, the Lords
Drummond and Ogilvie, Sir Robert Spottiswood,
Sir Alexander Leslie of Auchentoul, Sir William
Rollock, Sir Philip Nisbet, the Honourable Wil-
liam Murray, brother to the Marquis of Tulliebar-
dine, Alexander Ogilvie of Inverquharity, Colonel
Nathaniel Gordon, and Mr Andrew Guthry, son
to the ex-bishop of Murray, had fallen into the
hands of the enemy. -
The treatment awarded to these unfortunate per-
sons by their captors, was so much in violation of
both the laws of humanity and those of war, as to
be afterwards matter of regret to the very best
friends of the Covenanted cause. Hitherto, as al-
ready hinted, no blood had been shed, either in
England or Scotland, except in the open field, and
in the generous spirit of fair warfare. If there
was any exception, it lay on the side of the parlia-
ment, which had sacrificed Strafford and Laud to
its resentment. On the king's side, at least, al-
though his powers were of that superior and more
sacred nature, that he could have more justifiably
proceeded upon them, there had been no example
of judicial sacrifice; but, on the contrary, all the
prisoners, even those who had acted in the most
conspicuously treasonable manner, had been recei-
BATTLE OF PHILIPHAU G H. 137
ved and treated as prisoners of war.” The gene-
rosity and discretion of this mode of procedure
were now to be, for the first time, fairly departed
from by the barbarous oligarchy which governed
Scotland ; the spirit of revenge, it would appear,
having there first got the better of all more hu-
mane and civilized principles of action, in precise
conformity to the rule acknowledged by students
of human nature, that the less removed a nation is
from its primeval state of rudeness, so much the
more predominant and unlimited is the desire of
“ blood for blood.”
Leslie having returned to Lothian, and there ta-
ken under his protection the Committee of Estates
and the Commission of the Kirk, the members of
which had fled to Berwick after the battle of Kil-
syth, a tour of vengeance was undertaken through
the kingdom, by that tripartite tyranny of war, re-
bellion, and fanaticism, for the purpose of extirpa-
ting the last remaining roots, as they themselves
would have said, of malignancy. The first victims
were two Irish captains, O’Kane and Laughlane,
who had been spared by some chance from the
shambles of Newark. These unhappy young sol-
diers, one of whom had behaved with singular gal-
lantry at the affair of Fyvie, while the other had
been distinguished as one of the first men in the
charge at Kilsyth, were hanged, without the least
ceremony, upon the castle-hill of Edinburgh. In
the progress of the army through West Lothian,
a few days after, a much more extensive scene of
destruction took place. About forty of the wives
and children of the Irish, who had been taken and
gathered together by the country-people, were pre-
cipitated from the high bridge over the river Avon,
near Linlithgow, and drowned in the deep pool
M 2
138 BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUG. H.
below. Some of these unfortunate persons, even
after their fall—one of at least fifty feet—and af-
ter being immersed in the water, had strength suf-
ficient to gain the banks; but soldiers were placed
for a considerable way down the stream, to push
back all such into the water with their pikes, and
to wait till they were sure that the whole were
dead.” -
At Glasgow, to which the army and the Com-
mittees next progressed, a present of fifty thou-
sand merks, with a gold chain, was adjudged to
Leslie, and a gift of twenty-five thousand merks
to Middleton, the second in command, in token of
the estimation in which they were held for their late
services to the state. Before they removed from
Glasgow, the citizens were compelled to pay a fine
of twenty thousand pounds, in expiation of the
heinous crime they had been guilty of, in giving
fifty thousand to Montrose.” The army was final-
ly removed to Forfar, there to act as a guard over
the Low Country, to protect it from the machina-
tions of Montrose, who was understood to have
again arrived at considerable strength, and to be
meditating a renewal of the war.
Most Rose's INSURRECTION. 139
CHAPTER VI.
SUPPRESSION OF MonTRose's INSURRECTION.
The Trojan youth about the captive flock,
To wonder, or to pity, or to mock. -
DURHAM.
SMALL as Montrose's force had been at Philip-
haugh, in comparison with the whole extent of his
resources, and although it might have been sup-
posed that he only required to throw himself into
the Highlands, in order to gather as large an army
as ever, it soon appeared that that defeat was to
prove a complete death-blow to his hopes. No
longer possessed of the invincible name which hi-
therto had mainly supported him ; deprived of
many of his best adherents and advisers; his re-
maining friends terrified by the fate with which
their captive associates were threatened by the vic-
tors; the king's affairs in England every day ver-
ging nearer and nearer that point when they would
be irretrievable; the very season unfavourable for
any farther effort; it speedily became apparent
that, in losing instead of gaining the battle of Philip-
haugh, he had lost the last opportunity of accom-
plishing the grand object with which he had enter-
ed the campaign. The party which the king dis-
140 SUPPRESSION OF
patched to his assistance about the time of the bat-
tle of Philiphaugh, had been, like many other par-
ties of Charles's forces during this last and most
disastrous of his campaigns, cut off by the tri-
umphant republicans. To complete the difficulty
of his circumstances, the Great Marquis had now
to propose an attack, not upon a huge raw body
of Lowland militia, but upon a large army of dis-
ciplined cavalry, which had already beaten him, and
was confident in its ability to beat him again.
On his retreat into Athole, he had been able to
raise only four hundred men ; the rest being as
yet engrossed in the repair of their ruined dwell-
ings, and in providing stores for the winter. Then,
having crossed the Grampians, and descended in-
to Aberdeenshire, he exerted himself to rouse the
vassals of the Marquis of Huntly, who had just be-
fore left his concealment in Sutherland, and return-
ed home. Montrose expected that this nobleman
would now join heart and hand in the common en-
terprise, and he made various overtures with the
view of inducing him to rank under his banner.
But Huntly, however zealous for the interest of
the king, was by no means well-disposed towards
Montrose. Either inflamed with a personal resent-
ment against him, in remembrance of his capture
at Aberdeen in 1639, or unwilling to vail his own
commission as Lieutenant over the north of Scot-
land, to that which Montrose bore as Governor and
Captain-General, he rejected all his intreaties; al-
though these are said to have been at once re-
spectful, urgent, and frequently repeated ; con-
stantly affirming that he entertained the strongest
good-will towards the royal cause, but as constant-
ly displaying a reluctance to take the method of
showing it proposed by Montrose.
MonTRose’s INSUR RECTION. 14, 1
Having in the end succeeded in rousing the Earl
of Aboyne, with a small band of the Gordons, though
rather by force than any other method, the royal
general marched southward with all haste, intend.
ing to attempt the rescue of his friends from the
hands of parliament, or at least endeavour to awe
the latter into mercy. He had the mortification,
however, to see these unwilling levies all drop away
from him in his march southward, under the pre-
text of defending their own country from the at-
tacks of a party of the enemy's troops. He was
further mortified at this time, by receiving intelli-
gence that Sir Alaster MacCol could not be brought
away from Argyleshire to join him; being there
engaged in matters more nearly concerning his own
interests and feelings, than either Montrose's or the
king's service. He at last found himself, on des-
cending into the Lowlands, attended by only about
three hundred horse and twelve hundred foot, chief-
ly Atholemen, Ogilvies, and adherents of the Lord
Erskine; a miserable army to present against the
six thousand horse commanded by Leslie and Mid-
dleton.
With this small army, however, Montrose did
not hesitate, towards the end of October, to ap-
proach Glasgow, where the Committee of Estates
was sitting in trial upon his friends, attended by a
guard of three thousand horse. Planting himself
upon the lands of the chief Covenanters of the dis-
trict, he lay for some time contemplating the city,
as the lioness regards the fortress within which she
knows her stolen cubs to be immured. By rava-
ging these lands, he for some time hoped to bring
out the Covenanting force to the country, where
he might find an opportunity to attack it to advan-
tage ; but the Committee knew his weakness, and,
142 SUPPRESSION OF
retaining their guard close around them, deliberate-
ly proceeded with the trial of their prisoners.
Three of these unfortunate individuals were des-
tined to suffer at Glasgow; Sir William Rollock,
who had accompanied Montrose on his journey
from England, Sir Philip Nisbet, and Alexander
Ogilvie, younger of Inverquharity. Their trial
was not intrusted to the common judicial tribunal
of the country; that, like many other powers of
old standing, was now in a great measure supplant-
ed by the all-engrossing and omnipotent Court of
Parliament, or rather the junto termed its commit-
tee. It was by this committee, which had the con-
venient merit of being at once accuser and judge,
that the three gentlemen were tried. A sentence
of condemnation was of course unavoidable. Sir
William Rollock was hanged at the Market-Cross
of Glasgow, on the 28th October, and his com-
panions next day. The individual last mentioned
was a youth of eighteen, who had recently been
hurried by his father from the school to the field,
and who was, in every view of his case, worthy of
mercy. It might have been expected that, where
there were so many of deeper guilt, and manlier
years, he would scarcely be selected as a proper
subject of punishment. Unfortunately the selection
was made upon far different principles. He was an
Ogilvie ; one of a family against which the Mar-
quis of Argyle cherished an implacable hatred,
and which he had many selfish reasons for wishing
to see destroyed. To gratify the malignant pas-
sions of this nobleman, who now had become in
effect king of Scotland, the unfortunate youth was
sacrificed by his saintly judges.
It would almost appear that, at this deplorable
period, the best feelings of human nature were
MonT ROSE's INSURRECTION. 143
smothered and buried, in the breasts of public men,
beneath the false and bewildering spirit which had
possessed them. Instead of expressing the least
compunction at the repeated executions of men
who but a few years before had been their bosom
friends, and whose only crime, after all, lay in their
having entertained different views of state policy,
the ecclesiastical tyrants of this time beheld the
dismal scenes which they had called up with feel-
ings of unrelenting triumph. It is recorded, to the
eternal infamy of one in particular, Mr David
Dickson, that, on seeing the second day's execu-
tions at Glasgow, he could not help exclaiming, in
a sort of transport of self-congratulation, “The
wark gaes bonnily on T” meaning that the religious
task of reformation and purification in which he
and his brethren had been for so many years en-
gaged, was now proceeding with a degree of ener-
gy and success perfectly admirable. His expres-
sion, which will remind many readers of the terri-
fic ca ira of the French revolutionary period,
either found so much sympathy in the bosoms of
his friends, or was held in such execration by per-
sons of a different way of thinking, that it became
proverbial.”
Montrose lay for some weeks after this affair in
the neighbourhood of Glasgow, daily hoping to re-
ceive such accessions from the north as would en-
able him to make a vigorous attack upon the in-
surgent government. At length, on the 19th of
November, when he had fully proved the futility
of all his hopes, he resolved to retire once more
into the Highlands, in order to try the effect which
his personal presence might have upon those who
had promised to join him. Notwithstanding that
a winter of almost unexampled severity had by this
144, SU PPRESSION OF
time set in, and deep snow lay upon the ground,
he marched over the hills of Menteith and Strath-
earne towards Athole, and from thence through
Angus and over the Cairn-a-Mount, into the coun-
try of the Gordons; a march comprehending the
very wildest districts of the Highlands, but which
he accomplished with all his customary celerity.
After his retreat to the north, the Committee of
Estates, finding no farther use for General Leslie,
sent him back with his army to England, only re-
taining a small force, under the command of Ge-
neral Middleton, as a sort of guard. The Estates
met in full parliament at St Andrews on the 26th
of November, and the General Assembly of the
Church sat down at the same time and place; for
the two now went as naturally and properly to-
gether as judge and executioner. The speech with
which Sir Archibald Johnstone of Warriston open-
ed the former meeting, as reported by Sir James
Balfour, may be given here, as a most notable il-
lustration of the spirit of the time:—“ He intreat-
ed them to unite among themselves, to lay all pri-
vate respects and interests aside, and to do justice
on delinquents and malignants ; showing that their
dallying formerly had provoked God's two great
servants against them, the sword and plague of
pestilence, which had ploughed up the land with
deep furrows; he showed that the massacre of
Kilsyth was never to be forgotten, and that God,
who was the best judge of the world, would not
but judge righteously, and keep in remembrance
that sea of innocent blood which lay before his
throme, craving for a vengeance on these blood-
thirsty rebels, the butchers of so many innocent
souls; he showed, likewise, that the times requi-
red a more narrow and sharp looking into than
Ö
MONTROSE's INSURRECTION. 145
formerly, in respect that the house of parliament
was become at this present like Noah's ark, which
had in it both foul and clean creatures; and there-
fore he besought the Estates there now convened,
before that they went about the constitution of that
high court of parliament, that they would make
one serious search and inquiry after such as were
ears and eyes to the enemies of the commonwealth,
and did sit there as if there were nothing to say to
them ; and therefore he humbly desired that the
house might be adjourned till to-morrow at two
in the afternoon, and that the several Estates might
consider what corrupted members were among
them, who had complied with the public enemy of
the state, either by themselves, or by their agents
or friends.” "
It is curious to observe, in this speech, instead
of the liberal sentiments and extended views which
are so fondly ascribed to the zealots of that time
by their modern admirers and successors, a super-
stition more gross than is at this day entertained
by the abject Spaniard or Portuguese, and an in-
tolerance of fair opposition more violent and un-
compromising than could be found at the court of
Constantinople. .
But it is to the church, perhaps, that we are to
look, on this occasion, for the most expressive spe-
cimens of cruelty and intolerance. The parliament
had, in the first place, appointed a committee of
eighteen members to try the delinquents; and these
unfortunate persons had been collected in such
numbers to St Andrews, as to fill not only the cas-
tle, but even the private houses. It was in vain
that they petitioned to be tried by the justice-ge-
meral, or by their peers: their accusers could in-
trust the duty of condemning them to no hands
VOL, I 1. |N 5
146 SUPPRESSION OF
less sure than their own. A delay, however, un-
avoidably occurred; and the trials did not take
place till the beginning of January. During the
interval, the Commission of the Church, with an in-
delicacy which must appear, to modern apprehen-
sions, perfectly monstrous, was perpetually ur-
ging parliament to proceed with the great duty
of “doing justice upon the malignants.” On one
day,” scarcely a week after the appointment of the
Committee of Process, as the judges were called,
an impatient remonstrance was laid before the
house by the General Assembly; and at the same
time, similar petitions for vengeance were several-
ly presented by the four principal Lowland synods;
two hundred persons in all appearing at once in
the house on this amiable business. Like Cato,
with his incessant “Delenda est Carthago,” the
members of the church seemed determined to cry
for vengeance incessantly, and not to cease till it
should be executed.
Vengeance was at length inflicted, though not
nearly to the extent desired by the worthies of the
Assembly. In the first place, “the Irish prisoners
taken at and after the battle of Philiphaugh, in all
the prisons of the kingdom, especially in the pri-
'sons of Selkirk, Jedburgh, Glasgow, Dumbarton,
and Perth, were execute, without any assize or pro-
cess, conforme to the treaty betwix the two king-
doms, passed in act.” ". Afterwards, on the 17th
of January, (1646,) sentence of death was passed
on Sir Robert Spottiswood, Colonel Nathaniel
Gordon, the Honourable William Murray, brother
to the Marquis of Tulliebardine, and Captain An-
drew Guthry, son to the ex-bishop of Murray. The
Earl of Hartfell, and Lord Ogilvie, as the most
eminent in rank, and the most malignant in prin-
MonTROSE's INSURRECTION. 147.
ciple, had previously been sentenced; but Ogilvie
had escaped from prison in his sister's clothes, by
the interest of his friends the Hamiltons, and Ar-
gyle had then insisted that Hartfell's life should
be given to him, as a compensation, to atone for
the disappointment he felt in the escape of Ogil-
vie, and as a sort of sacrifice on the part of the
Hamiltons, who were as anxious to see Hartfell
executed, and his estates forfaulted in their favour,
as he had been to procure the death and attainder
of Ogilvie.” It would be vain to inquire into the
assumed principles and laws upon which the Scot-
tish parliament proceeded in the trials of these un-
fortunate individuals. Suffice it to say, that Gor-
don, Murray, and Guthry, were found guilty, in
terms of the act passed in the preceding year,
which had denounced allbacksliding from the cause
of the Covenant, as inferring the pains of high
treason: for Sir Robert Spottiswood, who, having
never signed the Covenant, could not be supposed
guilty on the same act, they did the favour of erect-
ing a new denomination of crime: It was voted
that his having docketted and signed the king's last
commission to Montrose, was high treason; and he
was accordingly condemned to suffer like the rest.
Colonel Gordon was the first of the victims that
mounted the scaffold. He had previously been
excommunicated for adultery, and he now came
under obedience to the church, in order to have
that dreadful stigma removed. He died express-
ing sincere repentance of the follies of his youth,
but maintaining the propriety of his political con-
duct during the public troubles, and professing
undiminished attachment to the cause in which he
suffered. He was followed to the scaffold by Sir
Robert Spottiswood.
148. SU PPRESSION OF
It is said, that when the people saw this gentle-
mam mount the scaffold, they could not help ex-
pressing sentiments of violent compunction and dis-
tress. He was the first man of high rank or sta-
tion that had yet appeared under such circumstan-
ces. Many who were now present had seen him,
for a long course of years, at Edinburgh, presiding
over the highest civil court in the country, and
commanding the respect of the nation by his be-
nignant gravity, his profound learning, and his in-
tegrity as a judge. The last office he had held was
actually the highest in the country next to the
king. He had been guilty of no distinct crime,
unless the entertainment of different views of
church and state policy could be so termed; nor
was he reputed to be capable of acting with deci-
ded hostility against even that system of govern-
ment to which he was now falling a sacrifice. Al-
together, it was impossible to view so venerable,
so worthy, and so innocent an individual, thus sub-
mitting to so severe and unmerited a fate, with-
out pity; while the bare abstract consideration
that a state of things had now arrived, when the
death of men of his order was held necessary to
the general interests, had in it something alto-
gether appalling. -
Such feelings as these had influenced even the
immediate condemnators of this excellent person.
“Though many liked not his party,” says his bio-
grapher,” “they liked his person, which made him
many friends even among the Covenanters; inso-
much that after the sentence was read, some of the
mobility spoke in his behalf, and intreated the house
to consider the quality and parts of that excellent
gentleman and most just judge, whom they had
condemned, and begged earnestly his life might be
MONTROSE’s INSURRECTION. 149
spared. But an eminent knowledge and esteem,
which, in other cases, might be a motive to save a
criminal, was here only the cause of taking an in-
nocent man's life; so dangerous is it, in a corrupt
age, to be eminently constant and virtuous. The gen-
tlemen who spoke were told that the authority of
the established government was not secure while
Sir Robert's life was spared. Whereupon the no-
blemen who presided at the meeting of the Estates
at Glasgow, and in the Parliament at St Andrews,
openly declared, when they signed the respective
sentences, that they did sign as preses, and in obe-
dience to the command of the Estates, but not as
to their particular judgment.”
The clergy alone seem to have been incapable of
appreciating the worth and greatness which were
now about to perish. They had previously endea-
voured to persuade the people, that the lives of Sir
Robert and his companions were demanded by
Heaven, as an expiation of the blood of the saints
who had perished in Montrose's wars; that it was
even necessary to put them to death, in order to
avoid the wrath which the Almighty would other-
wise be sure to express against a land which had
neglected his service. To reconcile the public
more thoroughly to the executions, these daring
and most impious men had taken it upon them to
assure their audiences, that the delinquents were
destined, soul and body, to eternal torments. When
Sir Robert Spottiswood was brought upon the
scaffold, the Reverend Mr Robert Blair came in
attendance, though rather for the purpose of tea-
sing and annoying him, than with any intention of
soothing his last moments with the ghostly conso-
lations of religion. It soon became apparent to
this man, that the mild and dignified countenance
N 2
150. SU PIPRESSION OF
of the culprit was producing a strong effect upon
the minds of the people. On Sir Robert, there-
fore, turming to the edge of the scaffold and pre-
paring to speak to the bystanders, in an alarm lest
his words should increase that effect, he command-
ed the provost of the town, who also stood on the
scaffold, to prevent him from making his harangue.
Sir Robert, who had anticipated such treatment,
expressed no resentment at it, but took from his
pocket a paper containing the speech he intended
to deliver, and threw it amidst the populace ; im-
mediately after addressing himself to his devotions
with an air perfectly unruffled and resigned. While
he was engaged in prayer, the reverend gentleman
who had previously doomed him so confidently to
everlasting perdition, presumed to interrupt him
for the purpose of asking “if he would have him
(Blair) and the people to pray for the salvation of
his soul?” it being probably the opinion of this di-
vine, that Sir Robert's own prayers, seeing that he
was a malignant and an Episcopalian, would be of
no effect, while there was a hope that some atten-
tion might be paid to petitions which were prefer-
red by so favourite a minister of the Almighty as
himself, and so worthy a people as those who sur-
rounded him. Sir Robert was at length provoked
a little by the rudeness of the man, and could not
help saying, that, though he was willing and an-
xious to have the prayers of the people, he cer-
tainly would have no concern with his ; adding
that, of all the plagues with which the offended
majesty of God had thought proper to visit this
land, the greatest was the lying spirit which he had,
for the sins of the people, put into the mouths of
the prophets. Blair fumed with very rage at this
stab, and began a violent tirade against both Arch-
MONTROSE’s INSURRECTION. 15 i
bishop Spottiswood, who had been long dead, and
his son who was now about to die ; but Sir Robert
paid no attention to his invectives. Rather perhaps
induced by them to hasten his own end, he mow ad-
vanced to the instrument of execution, and, only
uttering the words, “ Merciful Jesus ! gather my
soul unto thy saints and martyrs, who have run
before me in this race,” gave the signal which had
been agreed upon for the descent of the fatal
a X6.
Captain Guthry was next brought upon the
stage, and him Blair also assaulted with his inso-
lent threats and scurrilities. But the courage of
the youthful soldier, and his purer religion, enabled
him to set this mistaken man at defiance, and to
meet his fate as became a gallant cavalier.
The Honourable William Murray should also
have been sacrificed on this dreadful day; but his
brother, the Marquis of Tulliebardine, had prevail-
ed upon the parliament to give him a respite of
three days. Some circumstances attended the con-
demnation and death of this young gentleman, cal-
culated to show in a more lively manner than any
yet related, the abeyance into which all natural
feelings and affections had fallen in the breasts of
the Covenanters, beneath the public spirit which
possessed them. Two or three months before, on
the Commission of the Kirk sending a deputation
to the Committee of Estates, to press the execu-
tion of the prisoners, the members of the latter
body were found in a strange quandary as to their
conduct, on account of the Marquis of Tulliebar-
dine, one of their chief friends, being the brother of
a distinguished person amongst the prisoners. In-
spired with a respect for Tulliebardine, “ divers of
the chief lords of the committee saw it necessary
| 52 SUPPRESSION of
to slight the overture of the kirk; and so the de-
putation were like to have obtained nothing.”
But the Earl of Tulliebardine soon relieved the
committee from its delicate predicament, and re-
assured the churchmen of their prospects of ven-
geance, by rising up and saying, “ That, if their
lordships were loath, out of respect to him, on ac-
count of his brother, to resolve upon the question
in hand, he begged to assure them that they greatly
miscalculated his sentiments; since his brother had
joined with Montrose's wicked crew, he had ceased
to esteem him as a brother ; he was now quite
willing to concur with them in whatever decision
they should see fit to make in regard to the prison-
ers; nay, he would consider it no favour, if, upon
his account, any indulgence were granted to these
detestable malignants.” At this amiable speech, the
other members of the committee, feeling a shame
to which the speaker was a stranger, held down
their heads. But they nevertheless took advantage
of his frankness, to enrol his brother's name amongst
the ten whom at this period they thought fit to
destine for execution. It may be proper to add
the reservation regarding the truth of this anecdote,
which the single historian upon whose credit it
rests,” has appended to it. “Whether or no,”
says he, “the Earl of Tulliebardine spoke so in the
Committee of Estates, I leave undetermined ; but
that Mr Bennet (the head of the clerical deputa-
tion) reported it of him in the Commission of the
Kirk, and that the two who were with him gave
their assent to it, I may confidently aver, being an
ear-witness thereof.”
Having probably found afterwards that his un-
matural conduct excited the disgust even of those
who were most benefited by it, Tulliebardine, on
MonTROSE's INSURRECTION. 153
the day subsequent to that on which sentence had
been pronounced, presented a petition to the house,
praying for his brother's life, “in respect, as he
averred on his honour, that the young man was not
compos mentis, as also within age." But the
house rejected his petition, and he afterwards was
able to procure only the brief respite which has
been mentioned, the parliament having probably
found it too late to make an exception in favour
of one whom they were already committed before
the public to involve in the same destruction with
so many others equally innocent. Various reasons
were ascribed by the public voice for Tulliebar-
dine's conduct on the occasion ; indolence and in-
activity, desire of his brother's patrimony, and
mere zeal for what he conceived the national in-
terest. He was probably actuated by all the
three.
When brought to the scaffold, young Murray,
malignant as he was, gained a higher degree of es-
teem among the spectators by his intrepid conduct,
than Tulliebardine had done by the Roman virtue
which he had just exerted in their own behalf.
There was something in his last speech which even
touched the hearts of that rude and stern multi-
tude. “I hope, my countrymen " he exclaimed,
“ you will reckon that the house of Tulliebardine,
and the whole family of Murray, have this day ac-
quired a new and no small addition of honour, in-
asmuch as a young man,” descended of that an-
cient race, has, though innocent and in the flower
of his age, with the greatest readiness and cheer-
fulness, delivered up his life for his king, the father
of his people, and the most munificent patron and
benefactor of that family from which he is sprung.
Let not my honoured mother, my dearest sisters,
154 SU PPRESSION OF
my kindred, nor my friends, lament the shortness
of my life, seeing that it is so abundantly recom-
pensed by the honour of my death. Pray for my
soul, and God be with you !”
Even after the market-crosses of Glasgow and
St Andrews had been thus drenched with blood,
the church remained still unsatisfied, and eagerly
pressed the parliament that another selection of
victims might be made to grace the scaffold. But
the leading noblemen, with better sense, refused
the petition, and informed their clerical friends
that they would now rather receive an overture
pointing out some less extreme mode of punishing
the delinquents, “The Commission,” says Guth-
ry, “having taken it into their consideration, there
were divers opinions about it; but that which
gained greatest applause, was Mr David Dickson's,
who, being asked by the moderator what he thought
best to be done with them, answered in his homel
way of speaking, “Shame them and herry them l’
Daisgrace and pillage them, which was according-
ly made the overture, to be preferred to parliament,
in reference to the malignants.” The parliament
determined eventually upon classing these obnox-
ious individuals according to their various degrees
of criminality, and imposing fines upon them pro-
portionate to these degrees; it being perhaps ap-
parent to them that no mode of punishment could
be so agreeable to either their interests or those of
the people, as one which tended to enrich them.
selves and relieve the public of its burdens.
Montrose was in the meantime exerting himself
to raise such an army in the north, as might ema-
ble him to make head once more against the par-
liament. As a last desperate effort for the acqui-
sition of Huntly, who had hitherto always avoided
Mo NTROSE's INSURRECTION. 155
him, he suddenly threw himself in the way of that
nobleman, and, by calmly reasoning with him
about the injury he was doing the king's affairs by
his backwardness, endeavoured to prevail upon
him, either to rise in person at the head of his
Gordons, or to permit them at least to join him
under other commanders. But Huntly, who had
formed independent schemes of insurrection, and
who seems to have aspired to the very object which
Montrose himself had in view—that of restoring
the king by means of the Scottish loyalists, could
upon no account be persuaded to accede to any of
his views. There is considerable variance in the
theories which the Scottish historians have formed
regarding the motives of Huntly's conduct at this
period; but it seems unquestionable that, among
the many reasons he had for abstaining from a
junction with Montrose, the principal one was a
wish to act a primary instead of a secondary partin
the royal service.
Leaving him to follow out his own plans, Mon-
trose, about the end of December, marched to be-
siege Inverness; a town which, with its garrison
of Covenanters, had all along proved a grievous
drawback to the services of the Highlanders, inso-
much that there was no prospect of their joining him
in any considerable numbers so long as it existed
in a condition capable of annoying the country in
their absence. In passing through Strathspey, he
sent off a party to Athole, under Drummond of
Balloch, for the purpose of protecting that coun-
try from the Campbells, who, he learned, were
now so much pressed by MacCol as to be under
the necessity of removing from their own districts
into those of the most inimical clans.
Balloch was successful in his enterprise. Being
| 56 SU PPR, ESSION OF
joined in Athole by Graham of Inchbrakie and all
the loyalists of the district, so that he had an army
of about seven hundred in all, he chased the twelve
hundred migrating Campbells by Glenogil and
the head of Stratherne, into Menteith, attacked
them at a ford near the village of Callander, and
cut them almost all off. But Montrose himself
was not so successful. Before he reached Inver-
ness, it had been supplied with new stores and
provisions by the Covenanters. He therefore lay
for weeks before it in vain ; till at last General
Middleton advanced upon him from Aberdeen, and
compelled him to retire into the county of Ross,
and afterwards, by a circuit, into Strathspey. He
spent the greater part of the spring (1646) in fruit-
less marches and counter-marches; constantly en-
deavouring to excite a simultaneous rise among
the Highland royalists, but as constantly finding
them too much terrified by the increasing power
of the parliament to venture upon the enterprise
on a large enough scale, or with sufficient vigour.
Before relating the final termination of his cam-
paign, now on the point of taking place, it will be
necessary to take up the meagre thread of general
history, which can alone be afforded in this work,
at the point where it was last dropt; the march of
the Scottish army (January 1644) to the assist-
ance of the English parliament in their contest
with the king.
When strengthened by that important aid, the
English parliamentary army immediately assumed
that ascendency which had hitherto been borne by
the arms of the king. They speedily acquired pos-
session of the northern district of England, where,
with the exception of the towns of Hull and Ber-
wick, the king had previously reigned triumphant;
MontRose’s INSUR RECTION. I 57
and at the battle of Long Marston Moor, (July
1644,) they gave such an overthrow to the royal
arms as caused the campaign to close with an as-
pect decidedly favourable to them. A treaty was
then entered into with the king at Uxbridge; but
the exorbitance of their demands, and the hopes
which the king still entertained of ultimate vic-
tory—hopes in which he was greatly encouraged
by the repeated successes of Montrose in Scotland
—caused the negotiations to be broken off with
mutual disgust and increased animosity. By a
strange decree which was immediately afterwards
passed by the English Parliament—termed the
Self-denying Ordinance—great additional vigour
was given to their army. The command then
passed from Essex, Manchester, and others of the
Presbyterian party, who, as members of the Par-
liament, were supposed to be incapable of holding
office, into the hands of Oliver Cromwell, a pri-
vate gentleman of Northamptomshire, who origi-
mally entered the army at the head of a horse regi-
ment raised by himself, but who had distinguished
himself above all his equals by superior military
talents, and was now one of the most conspicuous
men in the kingdom. It was by the machinations
of Cromwell alone that the Self-denying Ordinance
was achieved ; and from the period when it took
effect, it was evident that he was acting upon a
scheme of ambition distinct from the interests of
the Parliament, whose servant he had hitherto
been.
The campaign of 1645, which opened imme-
diately after the army was new-modelled, was
destimed to complete the triumph of the Parlia-
ment over their king. They gained a splendid
victory over his majesty at Naseby, (July 1645,)
VC) L. J. I. O
158 S UPPRESSION OF
and another, immediately after, at Newbury. The
contemporaneous defeat of Montrose at Philip-
haugh, the dispersion of the party which he sent
north to succour that commander, and the loss of a
number of his best forts, drove the king almost to
despair; and he was, at the end of the campaign,
obliged to take refuge in Oxford, nearly destitute
of a field army.
Before this period, in terms of the Solemn
League and Covenant, an assembly of divines, se-
lected impartially from all creeds and sects, had
been sitting for nearly three years at Westminster,
in deliberation upon the form of worship and
church-government which should be instituted over
both nations, in place of the abrogated forms of
Episcopacy. It would be vain, in a work like the
present, to trace all the intricate intrigues and dis-
putes which distinguished the proceedings of this
body. Suffice it to state, that owing to the unex-
pected opposition of the Independents, a sect which
aimed at a complete suppression of the clerical cha-
racter, the Scottish commissioners found it impos-
sible to procure the establishment of Presbyterian
church-government in England, on that scale of ty-
ranny and purity which they conceived indispen-
sable:” they could only succeed in establishing a
form of worship,andacatechism of doctrine,” agree-
able to their wishes. The nation was, of course,
very much chagrined at the miserable issue of their
grand religious mission; and, had it happened at a
somewhat earlier period, they might, by the with-
drawal of their army, have embarrassed the English
parliament in such a way as to make them repent
the unsatisfactory extent of the reformation. But
the English had, fortunately, taken care to post-
pone the conclusion of the Assembly till the period
8
MontROSE's INSURRECTION. 159
when such an act on the part of the Scots was of
very little moment to them, or was rather to be
desired than otherwise; and thus the Scots might
be said to have broken faith with their king, and
had two years of hard fighting, with exactly that
deficiency of advantage to themselves which, from
the nature of things, must be the general result of
all enterprises, the motives of which are in the least
degree of doubtful propriety.
The state of parties in the spring of 1646 was
precisely this: The king and the royalists were re-
duced to the last degree of weakness, insomuch
that it was necessary for his majesty to select, from
the various bands of his enemies, one from whom
he might request quarter. The English parliament
was still, to all appearance, powerful, though in
reality beginning to be deserted by public favour
on account of the peculations of the members as
individuals, and its tyranny as a body, and, more-
over, weakened by the independence which Crom-
well had achieved for the army. The Indepen-
dents, who governed the army, or rather composed
it, were fast acquiring the ascendency which the
parliament was losing; for the public mind, cast
loose from Episcopacy, and having dragged its
anchors over the shoals of Presbytery, was every
day verging nearer to that chaos of vague fanati-
cism in which the religious sentiments of this body
might be said to consist. The Scots, who com-
posed the fourth and last party, were now lying in
a great measure inactive in the north of England;
disgusted with what they considered the ingrati-
tude of the English for their services, but deter-,
mined not to retire till they were at least reckoned
with for their stipulated pay.
It was, perhaps, in consideration of the cause of
160 SU PPRESSION OF
*
offence which the Scots had against the two other
parties of his enemies, that the king selected them
as the most likely to afford him the protection he
wanted. At the end of April, 1646, having pri-
vately retired from Oxford, he appeared, after a
journey of eleven days, before the Scottish leaguer
at Newark, in the disguise of a postilion. The
officers, who are generally believed to have had no
expectation of his majesty's arrival, expressed the
utmost surprise at his appearance; but they re-
ceived him, as he had calculated, with sufficient
external respect. “ The general himself,” says
Kirkton, “ rendered his bare sword upon his knee,
which, it was observed, the king did not re-deliver.
When he first came into the Scottish quarters, he
offered to play the general himself, in commanding
the souldiers' posts and settling the guards, till old
Leslie told him, in his homely manner, that he,
being the elder souldier, would save his majesty
that labour: after which he forbare.”
The surrender of the king concluded the Civil
War; for, as a testimony of the desire which he
professed for peace, he gratified the English par-
liament by a resignation of his last-remaining for-
tresses, and the Scots by a retraction of Montrose's
commission.
It was the last day of May, and Montrose was
just on the point of executing a project he had
formed for impressing an army throughout the
Highlands, when he was overtaken by intelligence
of the king's surrender, and at the same time by an
order from his majesty, commanding him to disband
his troops and withdraw from the kingdom. He
was of course grieved to the last degree by an
event which so completely and at once put a period
to his cherished schemes of glory; and, in a sort
MoSTROSE’s INSUR RECTION. 16 i
of despair, he wrote a private letter to the king, re-
questing to be informed if it was really his wish
that he should lay down his arms, and proposing,
should that not be the case, to hold out to the last,
and even to attempt his rescue from the Covenant-
ers, if he should so desire. He was only answer-
ed by a second public or official order for the re-
signation of his arms; on which he again sent up
a messenger to make private inquiry into the king's
real wishes. Charles, who was under great appre-
hensions regarding this zealous servant, lest he
should fall a sacrifice to his implacable enemies,
then saw fit to appoint the Duke of Hamilton to
negotiate his safe retirement from Scotland.
Hamilton, who had suffered two years' imprison-
ment in the king's castles of Pendennis and Mount
St Michael, chiefly by the instigation of Montrose,
and who, now that he was again at liberty, and re-
stored to the king's favour, could not be supposed
to entertain a strong affection for that nobleman,
nevertheless undertook to procure a sort of indem-
nity for him from the Covenanters. He, in the
first place, engaged his friend Colonel Lockhart, a
gentleman serving under General Middleton, to
hold a conference with Montrose, and inform him
of the conditions which he might expect from the
ruling powers. Lockhart having deputed the office
to his commanding officer, Middleton and Montrose
met, on the 22d of July, by the banks of the river
Ilay in Angus, “and conferred for the space of two
hours, there being none near them but one man for
each of them to hold his horse; * when, it being
proposed to Montrose that he himself, with the
Earl of Crawford and Sir John Hurry, should be
excepted from pardon, but permitted to retire be-
yond seas, while the act of attainder should be re-
O 2
| 62 SU Pl’ RESSION OF
versed in favour of all the rest of his followers, he
saw fit to agree. Some difficulty was experienced
in carrying the terms through the committee of
parliament; but it was managed by the influence
of Hamilton and Lanark, though not without a
violent protest being made by the Church, whose
members professed to consider all treating with
such an enemy as violative of the Covenant.”
The ceremony of the dissolution of Montrose's
little army, which took place on the last day of
July at Rattray, near Cupar-Angus, has been de-
scribed in eloquent terms by Bishop Wishart, who
probably witnessed the scene. “Having convened
the men to a rendezvous, after giving them due
praise for their faithful services and good behaviour,
he told them his orders, and bid them farewell;
an event not less sorrowful to the whole army than
to himself; for, notwithstanding that he used his
utmost endeavours to raise their drooping spirits,
and encourage them with the flattering prospect of
a speedy and desirable peace, and assured them
that he contributed to the king's safety and interest
by his present ready submission, no less than he
had formerly done by his military attempts; yet
they concluded that a period was that day put to
the king's authority, which would expire with the
dissolution of their army; for the disbanding of
which they were all convinced the orders had been
extorted from the king, or granted by him on pur-
pose to evite a greater and more immediate evil.
And, upon whatever favourable conditions their
safety might be provided for, yet they lamented
their own fate, and would much rather have un-
dergone the greatest fatigues and hardships, than be
obliged to remain inactive spectators of the miseries
and calamities befalling their dearest sovereign.
MONTROSE's INSURRECTION. I 63
Their sorrow was considerably augmented by the
thoughts of being separated from their brave and
successful general, who was now obliged to enter
into a kind of banishment, to the irreparable loss
of the king, the country, themselves, and all good
men, at a time when they never had greater occa-
sion for his service. Falling down upon their knees,
with tears in their eyes, they obtested him, that,
seeing the king's safety and interest required his
immediate departure from the kingdom, he would
take them along with him, to whatever corner of
the world he should retire, professing their readi-
ness to live, fight, nay, if it so pleased God, even
to die under his command. And not a few of
them had privately determined, though with the
evident risk of their lives and fortunes, to follow
him without his knowledge, and even against his
inclination, and to offer him their service in a
foreign land, which they could not any longer af-
ford him in their own distressed native country.”
When the army was thus broken up, the Irish
were conducted, by the proscribed Earl of Craw-
ford, towards Kintyre, there to embark for their
own country; the Earl of Airly, and all the rest
of the Scottish loyalists, returned to their own
homes; and the Marquis himself went to his seat
of Old Montrose, in Angus, to prepare for his de-
parture, which was stipulated to take place before
the 1st of September.
The dangers which this noble person endured
for his unfortunate master, did not end with the
conclusion he had thus put to his campaign. The
Estates had engaged to afford him a vessel to carry
him off; but, to his unspeakable consternation, they
did not send it till the very last day of August,
and, when it did arrive, it was found to be under
164: SUPPRESSION, &c.
the command of a person of very forbidding man-
mers. There were, moreover, a number of war-
vessels, belonging to the English Parliament and
the Scottish Estates, which hovered near the har-
bour of Montrose, apparently for no other purpose
than to capture him as soon as he should put out
to sea. It altogether seemed as if the enemy in-
tended “to keep the word of promise to the ear,
but break it to the hope.” So fully were his fol-
lowers possessed with this idea, that many of them
counselled him to retire to the Highlands, and en-
deavour, by resuming arms, to procure more cer-
tain conditions. He himself was convinced of the
same fact; but he shrunk from the thought of re-
mewing the war, for his own sake, when to do so
might involve his sovereign in deeper distresses.
Finally, on the 3d of September, having previous-
ly sent off his adherents and servants from the
neighbouring port of Stonehaven, he ventured to
embark at Montrose in a small vessel, different
from that which the Estates had sent for him, at-
tended by only a clergyman, and disguised as the
servant of that personage; by which cautious mea-
sures he contrived to elude the vessels which block-
ed up the harbour, and in a few days he got safe
to the port of Bergen, on the coast of Norway.
CONCLUSION OF THE CIVIL WAR. 165
CHAPTER VII.
- CONCLUSION OF THE CIVIL WAR.
All corners were filled with Covenanters, confusion, committee-
men, and soldiers, serving each other to their ends of revenge, or
power, or profit; and these committee-men were possessed with this
Covenant.
IzAAR WALTox.
THE war being concluded everywhere over the
lsingdom, and the king having expressed his readi-
mess to enter into terms with the two parliaments,
a set of conditions were drawn up by the commis-
sioners of both kingdoms, by his accession to which
he was told that peace would be secured, and he
himself once more settled in his government.
Unfortunately for Charles, and for his country,
these terms were so extremely hard that, without
the dereliction of every honourable principle, with-
out unkinging, without unmanning himself, he
could not comply with them. The most promi-
ment required him to sign the Solemn League and
Covenant, and thereby to abolish the Episcopalian
religion ; an act which he could not do without
violating the Coronation Oath, as well as an en-
gagement which he had sacramented in the face of
his army at the beginning of the war, whereby he
had vowed to sustain that form of worship and
church-government till his latest breath. By ano-
166 CONCLUSION OF THE CIVIL WAR.
ther condition, he was required to resign the com-
mand of his army to his parliament for twenty
years; and by another, to permit that legislative
body to appoint all his officers of state. He was
also required by this rigorous treaty to consent to
the attainder and exception from pardon of all
those individuals who had served him in the late
contest with most peculiar zeal.
When Charles was informed of the nature of
these proposals, and at the same time told that
only ten days were allowed him to consider of
them, and that those who brought them had no
power to discuss them with him, he answered in
despair, that, “ saving the honour of the business,
an honest trumpeter might have done as well."
He was secretly implored by the leaders of the
Presbyterian party of both countries to accede to
the treaty, the severity of which, he was told, was
not so much owing to their own hostility to him,
as it was adopted for the purpose of subduing the
Independents; who, according to their representa-
tion, wished for nothing so much as that he might
refuse them, in order that they might have a pre-
text for dethroning him and his family, and esta-
blishing their own wild republican theories both in
church and state. The Earl of Loudoun, the most
eloquent of all the Scottish commissioners, pointed
out in a long speech the danger to be apprehended
from the Independents and the English army, in
case his Majesty should refuse to join his only
real friends, the Presbyterians ; and the Earl of
Leven, with a hundred other officers, knelt before
him to beseech his acceptance of the treaty. But
the conscientious monarch, now apparently the
only man in his dominions who had the courage to
do right at the risk of destruction, resolutely re-
CoNCLUSION OF THE CIVIL WAR. 167
jected it. When his refusal was reported in the
House of Commons, the Presbyterians were thrown
into a state of dreadful alarm, seeing in this mea-
sure destruction to their own moderate principles
of monarchy, and triumph to the wild democracy
of the Independents. On a vote of thanks being
proposed to the commissioners for their manage-
ment of the treaty, one Independent whispered
another in the ear, that they owed more thanks to
the king than any body; and, in another corner of
the house, a Presbyterian having said to an Inde-
pendent, in a sort of despair, “What shall become
of us since the king refuseth these propositions?”
the Independent answered, “Nay, what would have
become of us if he had granted them P'"
From this point every step which Charles took
was towards the scaffold. The party most inimi-
cal to him, including the Independents, now opened
up their celebrated bargain with the Scottish army
for the possession of his person ; the first of that
series of strong measures by which they gradually
brought him to the block.
It was by a very singular combination of party
interests that this infamous transaction was nego-
tiated. The English Presbyterians, be it remark-
ed, although looking upon the Scots as their na-
tural allies, were anxious for the disbanding of
their army, on account not only of the burden
which it laid upon the country, but also that it
might serve as a precedent for the dissolution of
their own forces, the independency of which they
had much reason to dread. They were also anxious
for possession of the king's person, in order that
they might employ it as an auxiliary to their own
strength against the Independents, and also that,
having it secure in their own hands, they might,
168 CONCLUSION OF THE CIVIL WAR.
without disturbance on its account, prosecute their
own schemes for the settlement of the nation, or
rather for the partition of the government amongst
themselves. On the other hand, the Independents
entered into the scheme of purchasing the king's
body from the Scots, under the impression that it
was a stage towards their own grand object—that
of securing it for themselves, and, by annihilating
it, establishing their republic. They were also
glad to see the measure of disbanding the Scots
associated with that of purchasing the king, because
that army might now be considered, in its con-
sistent Presbyterianism, as opposed in principle to
the English army, and therefore as likely some
day to turn its arms against themselves.
As for the motives of the Scots, who are alone
blamed by the voice of history, as well as that of
tradition, for their part in the transaction, it may
simply be said, that, in the first place, they could
not retain the king without the risk of national
ruin, as it must have inevitably involved them in
a war with the whole of England; in the second
place, they had no motive for protecting him, see-
ing that he refused to sanction their Presbyterian
form of church government and worship over both
kingdoms; in the third place, by surrendering his
person, they were solaced with two hundred thou-
sand pounds of ready money, and as much more
in prospect. *
There was something, I am strongly tempted to
think, highly characteristic of the Scottish nation
in their mode of managing this bargain. To give
that air of external decency to the business, which
Scotsmen desiderate in the most infamous employ-
ments, they kept the negotiation for the delivery
of the king quite distinct in seeming, from the ar-
CONCLUSION OF THE CIVIL WAR. 169
rangements regarding the payment of his price.
The former affair, according to their account, was
a matter entirely by the by, or contingent. The
real ostensible object of the treaty was the settle-
ment of those arrears of pay which, since the be-
ginning of the war, had been gradually accumula-
ting. They seemed as if they would scarcely
speak of the two things in the same day; and, in
reality, the papers which passed to and fro betwixt
them and their customers, did not in any one in-
stance allude to both matters together. The nurse
in Romeo and Juliet, who protests against taking
bribes from her mistress's lovers, all the time that
she is receiving one into the hand which for that
purpose she has put behind her back, is not a more
lively emblem of hypocritical panderism than was
the conduct on this occasion of the sacred army
of the Covenant.
Some attempts have been made by Scottish his-
torians to exculpate their country from the obloquy
which was thrown upon it, and which still conti-
nues to load it, on account of this infamous trans-
action. They have endeavoured to prove it, what
the Scots themselves represented it at the time, a
fair and honourable arrangement for the liquida-
tion of a debt due by England to Scotland, only
accompanied incidentally by the surrender of the
person of the king. Until proof can be brought,
however, that the Scots could have compelled the
English to do them justice without the resignation
of the king ; till it can be proved that their claims,
fair or unfair, would have been allowed by the
English parliament, on any other conditions or by
any other arguments; the stigma which the moral
sense of the nation affixed upon them at the time
must certainly remain ; they must be held, as the
VQ L. II, P
170 CONCLUSION OF THE CIVIL WAR.
writer of the Memoirs of the Somervilles quaintly
observes, to have “sold the bear's skin while it
was yet upon his back.”
It seems, at the same time, somewhat hard, that
the Englishman should be permitted to point with
SCOTI) to
“ — the Scot
Who sold his sovereign for a groat,”
while he himself is forgiven by history for the
erime, scarcely less dark, of having purchased him.”
If there be any truth in the adage that the resetter
is worse than the thief, it may even be questioned,
whether the opulent Englishman who held out the
temptation is not guiltier than the needy Scot who
yielded to it. It seems to be at the same time for-
gotten or forgiven to the English, that it was a
party amongst them which afterwards took advan-
tage of the king's misfortumes to put him to death ;
while, in Scotland, there was scarcely such a thing
as a party willing to sanction that deed, but, on
the contrary, the people rose nearly en masse, and,
throwing their Covenant aside for the time, gave
themselves up to the grand and truly generous ob-
ject of rescuing him.
But England was guilty of even a meaner sin
than any of these; a sin, indeed, of nearly the same
degree of meanness with the vendition of the king,
and one, it may be remarked, fully as characteristic
of itself, as the delicacy of the Scots was of their
country. By an exertion of that commercial acute-
mess in which it so far surpassed all other countries,
its commissioners contrived on this occasion to
cheat the Scots out of much more money than the
sum which formed the price of the king. The
whole amount of pay due to the Scottish nation
for its services in England during three years, was
CONCLUSION OF THE CIVII, WAR. 171
two millions. The Scots allowed by their accounts
that they had received in money and commodities
seven hundred thousand. The English, on their
part, represented that they had paid fourteen hum-
dred thousand. Now, it is clearly probable, from
a consideration of the items, that the statement of
the Scots was much nearer the truth than that of
the English. The English were only able to swell
their account to what they stated it, by the basest
methods, by putting items to the credit of the Scots
which never should have been accounted, and by
overcharging others. Is it probable, for instance,
attached as the people of Scotland were and are
to the species of food termed in Scotland kai/ and
in England broth, that, in so short a space of time
an army of twenty thousand men devoured eighty
thousand pounds worth of cabbage 23 And, even
allowing that fourteen thousand pounds had been
paid in money and goods to the Scots, were two
hundred thousand in hand, and a remote and inse-
cure promise of as much more, an adequate pay-
ment of the balance?
The best apology, however, which can be made for
Scotland in regard to the sale of their king, is, that it
was done, not by the whole nation, but only by a par-
ty, and by a party, too, which happened to be placed
in very peculiar circumstances. In the pretended
parliament which ratified the bargain, there were
not above a third of the nobility present, the other
two thirds being either secluded on account of their
malignancy, or awed from coming forward by the
fear of fines. It has been asserted by one who
mingled in all the transactions of the time, and who
must have known the pulse of the country through-
out all these its various fevers, that, excepting in
Fife and the south-western counties, (about a
l'72 CONCLUSION OF THE CIVIL WAR.
fourth of Scotland,) there were a hundred private
individuals that abhorred the measure for one
that agreed with it.” The minority in parliament,
which refused to accede to it, consisted in the
Duke of Hamilton, the Earls of Lanark, Tulliebar-
dine, and Kinghorn, the Lords Spymie and Elibank,
the Lairds of Halkerton, Immerpeffer, Monargan,
and Carden, and the commissioners for the burghs
of Forfar, Brechin, and Tain. The two first noble-
men, who were perhaps the most consistent loyal-
ists and at the same time the truest patriots of their
time, endeavoured, by the employment of their
great family influence in the country, to procure
a rejection of the measure; and there was some-
thing above the mere politician in the speech which
the Duke of Hamilton, the first peer of the land,
made at the conclusion of the debate,” in favour
of his unfortunate cousin and master. “Would
Scotland,” he exclaimed, in allusion to the sup-
posed antiquity of the royal line, “ now quit a
possession of fifteen hundred years' date, which
was their interest in their sovereign, and quit
it to those whose enmity against both him and
themselves did now so visibly appear? Was this
the effect of their protestations of duty and affec-
tion to his majesty P Was this their keeping of
their Covenant, wherein they had sworn to defend
the king's majesty's person and authority ? Was
this a suitable return to the king's goodness, both
in his consenting to all the desires of that kingdom,
in the year 1641, and in his late trusting his per-
son to them P What censures would be passed
upon this through the whole world? What a
stain would it be to the whole reformed religion ?
What danger might be apprehended, in consequence
of it, both to the king's person, and to Scotland,
CONCLUSION OF THE CIVIL WAR. 173
from the party that was now prevalent in Eng-
land?” When his grace's vote was asked, he ut-
tered the usual monosyllabic negative in a voice evi-
dently deepened by sorrow ; but on the question
coming to his brother, the Earl of Lanark, that
brave young nobleman exclaimed, in a voice equal-
ly emphatic, “As God shall have mercy upon my
soul at the great day, I would choose rather to
have my head struck off at the Market-cross of
Edinburgh, than give my consent to this vote l’’
And, when the vote was fairly passed, and the act
ratified, Lanark added with a deep groan, in allu-
sion to the popular title of the day on which the
articles of Perth were ratified in 1621, a day sup-
posed to have been cursed from heaven by reason
of the dark thunder-storm and the dark political
transaction which simultaneously befell upon it,
“This is the blackest Saturday that Scotland ever
saw ſ”6
On the 28th of January, 1647, the Scottish army,
having received the price of the king in six-and-
thirty covered waggons, delivered his person to the
English commissioners appointed to receive it, and
immediately returned to their own country, where
they were disbanded." -
Before proceeding farther with the general his-
tory of this period, it will be necessary to detail a
military enterprise which David Leslie undertook
in Scotland, immediately after the disbanding of the
army, for the final suppression of the insurrections
of Huntly and Montrose.
It is a curious fact, not hitherto noted in the his-
tory of England, but which seems certain from the
recent publication of the Sutherland family manu-
script,” that, after Charles had surrendered all his
places of strength in England, ordered the depar-
P 2
174 concLUSION OF THE CIVIL war.
ture of Montrose, and apparently resigned himself
entirely and without reserve into the hands of the
Scottish parliament and army, he still kept up an
armed loyalist party in Scotland, into whose arms
he entertained some thoughts of throwing himself,
or which he at least calculated upon as a last re-
source for the protection of his person, in the event
of its being threatened by his present protectors,
and provided that he could make his escape from
them. “ About the middle of December,” pro-
ceeds the family memoir just quoted, “Robert
Leslie, brother to Lieutenant General Leslie, came
from the king out of Newcastle, with letters and a
private commission to the Marquis of Huntly,
showing that his majestie had a mind to free him-
self from the Scots armie at Newcastle; and, if he
might escape, he would come to him in some part
of the north of Scotland; and therefore desired him
to have in readiness what forces he could make.
Immediately after Robert Leslie went away, Hunt-
ly raiseth all the forces he could, and makes his ren-
dezvous at Banff, which he fortifies ; and there he
stayed the rest of the following winter.”
From the circumstance of Huntly continuing in
arms after the king was rendered to the English
parliament, it would appear that, even them, the
unfortunate monarch entertained hopes of escape
from the party which possessed his person, and of
surrounding himself with a cavalier army, which
should procure for him either a victory over both
Presbyterians and Independents, or at least more
reasonable terms of peace than they now offered
him. It was probably also, in the prospect of be-
coming useful in such an event, and by a secret
understanding with the king to that effect, that
Montrose's major-general, Sir Alaster MacCol, still.
CONCLUSION OF THE CIVIL WAR. 175
lingered with his Irish and Highland forces in Ar-
gyle.
To take away this last cavalier prop from the
king, the Scottish parliament conceived it their
duty and interest, after the return of their army,
to send part of the staff, under Lieutenant-Gene-
ral Leslie, against the Marquis of Huntly. This
loyal commander, who had, in the previous month
of May, displayed more than his usual vigour, by
taking Aberdeen out of the hands of a strong Co-
venanting garrison, and who had successfully re-
pelled an attack latterly made upon his leaguer at
Banff, by a party of the parliamentary forces,
proved totally unfit to withstand the body of ve-
teran soldiers which Leslie brought for his sup-
pression. Retiring from a struggle in which he
had no prospect of being successful, he betook
himself to the mountainous recesses of Badenoch,
where the people were chiefly his vassals, leaving
only a few parties in the low country, to garrison
the principal strengths. Leslie proceeded to re-
duce these strengths, before attempting to follow
the marquis into his mountain fastness. He first
took the castle of Strabogie, with its command-
er, the Laird of Newton-Gordon, whom he sent to
Edinburgh. Next, he captured the castle of Les-
more. Then he reduced the strong house of the
Bog of Gicht, now Gordom Castle, and the prin-
eipal seat of the family, the captain of which, James
Gordon of Letterfurie, together with his brother,
Thomas Gordon of Clasterim, and others, he also
dispatched prisoners to Edinburgh. Finally, he
took the fortified isle of Lochtammer in Aboyne.”
The garrisons of all these places he admitted to
quarter, except the Irish, who were invariably shot,
without mercy or ceremony, immediately after

176 CONCLUSION OF THE CIVIL wa R.
the capture of the houses in which they were
found." --
When the Lowland portion of Huntly's territory
had been thus reduced, the Presbyterian general
invaded his Highland districts, and speedily cap-
tured the fortresses of Ruthven in Badenoch, and
Inverlochy in Lochaber. Then, leaving his ma-
jor-general, Middleton, in garrison over the coun-
try, and to achieve, if possible, the seizure of
Huntly's person, Leslie moved forward, with four-
teen hundred foot and two troops of horse, to sup-
press the strength which MacCol still kept up in
Argyle.
Towards the end of May, (1647,) Leslie had
advanced to Inverary, being accompanied on his
march by the Marquis of Argyle, and other chief-
tains of the clan Campbell, all of them anxious to
witness and share in the defeat of one who had
proved so severe a scourge to their lands and vas-
sals. It is said by Sir James Turner, an experi-
enced officer, who accompanied the expedition,
and has left an account of it, that, if Alaster had
had the good sense to defend the passes which lead
from Inverary into the peninsula of Kintyre, where
he now was, Leslie must have only been able to
force an entry by a miracle —perhaps been defeat-
ed in the attempt. Unfortunately for the brave
but imprudent Highlander, he had taken no such
precaution. He did not bring up his men to op-
pose the Presbyterian general, till his horse had
fairly passed through those difficult straits, and
reached the level country beyond. A skirmish
there took place which lasted a whole day, (May
25,) but as the horse of the enemy had full room
to act, it was unsuccessful to MacCol. He re-
treated next day to his boats, and transported the
CONCLUSION OF THE CIVIL WAR. 177
whole of his force over to the islands, except only
three hundred men, partly Irish, and partly High-
landers of the clan Dougal, or Coull, which he left
behind to garrison a fort called Dunavertie on the
mainland.
This fort Leslie immediately besieged and took,
and the fate to which he consigned its unhappy
inmates, remains, perhaps, one of the foulest blots
that ever stained the memory of a Christian sol-
dier. It was impossible that the fort should have
held out, because, standing as it did upon the top
of a hill, it had no supply of water except what
fell from the clouds. When intolerable thirst
compelled the garrison to capitulate, Leslie recei-
ved them, not on condition of quarter, or as co-
ming under his own discretion, but as submitting
themselves unconditionally to the mercy of the go-
vernment. This “nice distinction,” as Sir James
Turner terms it, seems to have been adopted, pure-
ly for the purpose of throwing the blame of the
massacre which was to ensue off his own shoul-
ders, upon those of the Campbells who were to
execute it, or rather upon those of the Marquis of
Argyle and a clergyman accompanying him, who,
on the present occasion, acting as the representa-
tives of the parliament and kirk, the two dominant
powers of the kingdom, seem to have taken it
upon them to order the massacre. It is not cer-
tain, be it remarked, that Argyle really ordered,
or even counselled the deed in question, though
such a charge formed one of the items of his in-
dictment after the Restoration ; but there can at
least be no doubt that Mr John Nevory, or Neaves,
the clergyman mentioned, assumed the privilege
of a representative of the Church of Scotland to
urge Leslie to its execution. “I know that the
178 CONCLUSION OF THE Civil wa R.
lieutenant-general,” such are the words of Sir
James Turner, “ was of himself unwilling to shed
these men's blood ; but Mr John Nave, who was
upon him as his chaplain, never ceased to tempt
him to that bloodshed, yea, and threatened him
with the curses that befell Saul for sparing the
Amalekites—for with them his theology taught
him to compare the Dunavertie men ; and I verily
believe that this prevailed most with David Les-
lie, who looked upon Nave as the representative
of the Kirk of Scotland.” Accordingly, to use the
careless language of this rough soldier, “ having
come out of the castle, these fellows were put to
the sword, every mother's son of them, except one
young man, Mackoul, whose life I begged, to be
sent to France.” Bishop Guthry adds, as a fact
which he had heard stated by many ear-witnesses,
that, as Argyle, Leslie, and Neaves, were walking
through the scene, “over the ankles in blood,” the
general turned about and said to his saintly chap-
lain, “Now, Mr John, have you not for once got
your fill of blood *" an expression the most su-
blimely horrible, perhaps, that ever any villain of
the deepest dye used to another.”
From the mainland Leslie boated himself, with
eighty troopers, over to Islay, in pursuit of Mac-
Col. There he found that the loyalist general,
with his customary imprudence, had gone to Ire-
land, leaving two hundred men with his father
Colkittoch, in a fortress called Dunniveg, precise-
ly similar to Dunavertie. Siege being immediate-
ly laid to this fort, the garrison, after a stout re-
sistance, were obliged to capitulate for want of
water. Having been able, however, to procure
better terms than their friends in Kintyre, their
CONCLUSION OF THE CIVIL WAR. 179
lives were spared, with the single exception of Col-
kittoch himself, who, having come out of the castle
“on some parole or other,” says Sir James Tur-
ner, “to speak with his old friend the captain of
Dunstaffnage, was surprised and made prisoner,
not without some stain to the lieutenant-general's
honour. He was afterwards hanged by a jury of
the Marquis of Argyle's depute, one George Camp-
bell, from whose sentence few are said to have es-
caped that kind of death.”
The remainder of this enterprise of terror may
be best given in Sir James Turner's own words.
“From Ila,” says he, “we boated over to Jura, a
horride isle, and a habitation fit for deere and wild
beasts; and so from isle to isle, till we came to
Mull, which is one of the best of the Hebrides.
Here Machaine saved his lands, with the loss of his
reputation, if he ever had any. He gave up his
strong castles to Leslie, gave his eldest sonne for
hostage of his fidelity, and, which was unchristian
baseness in the lowest degree, he delivered up four-
teen very prettie Irishmen, who had been all along
faithful to him, to the lieutenant-general, who im-
mediatelie caused hang them all. It was not well
done to demand them from Maclaine, but inexcu-
sablie ill done in him to betray them. Here I can-
not forget one Donald Campbell, fleshed in blood
from his very infancie, who with all imaginable
violence pressed that the whole clan Maclaine
sould be put to the edge of the sword; nor could
he be commanded to forbear his bloody suit by the
lieutenant-general and two major-generals ; and
with some difficulty was he commanded silence by
his chief the Marques of Argyle. For my part, I
said nothing, for indeed I did not care though he
had prevailed in his suit, the delivery of the Irish
7
180 CONCLUSION OF THE Civ IL war.
had so much irritated me against that whole clan
and name.” •. .
Leslie returned to the Low Country in Septem-
ber, when he was honoured with universal appro-
bation for his diligent behaviour in the late enter-
prise, the success of which was thought worthy to
be congratulated by a general fast. Before this
period, Major-General Middleton had sent, as pri-
soners to Edinburgh, three of the chief adherents
of the Marquis of Huntly, Gordon of Innermarkie,
the young Laird of Newton-Gordon, and the Laird
of Harthill, the two last of whom were executed.
Huntly himself was seized two months afterwards
in Strathdon, and sent captive to Edinburgh, where
he was imprisoned in the common jail, or tol-
booth.
AscENDENCY OF THE INDEPENDENTS. 181
Y
CHAPTER VIII.
ASCENDENCY OF THE INDEPENDENTS, AND
EXECUTION OF THE KING.
To the rock with him 1 to the rock with him
Coriolanus.
IT has been represented by the friends of legiti-
mate monarchy, as a strong reason for the repres-
sion of all popular combinations against establish-
ed authority, that the two national parliaments,
which had now so effectually overpowered King
Charles, and apparently settled the government on
a republican model, were just at this very period
of their triumph on the point of sinking beneath a
tyranny of a different order, which they themselves
had called into existence, and which was of an in-
finitely more frightful and intolerable mature to the
nation at large than the rule they had just escaped
from. The English parliament, which had con-
tended so stoutly for the abrogation of high-toned
Episcopacy, was now to suffer from the opposite
,extreme of famatic Independency: after reducing
to proper bounds the arbitrary rule of a king, it
was to perish by a blow from a mere ambitious
soldier. It resembled, according to the views of
this class of politicians, the wayward child of the
fairy tale, who, to get quit of some petty evil, ha-
ving called in the assistance of a demon, was grati-
VOL. Il, Q
182 ASCENDENCY OF THE INDEPENDENTs,
fied no doubt with a complete victory over the
trivial annoyance complained of, but found himself.
at the same time engaged to become the perpetual
slave and the eventual prey of the dreadful auxiliary
which he had called to his aid.
The English parliament, as already hinted, in
its negotiations for the dismissal of the Scottish
army, had had a view towards the dismissal of
their own forces; for even then it was beginning
to find the victors of Naseby somewhat intractable,
and to entertain fears lest their sectarian enemies
should turn them to account in the struggle which
was anticipated. It had no sooner acquired pos-
session of the king's person, than it proceeded to
take measures for the dissolution of the troops.
By a very inconsiderate, and, to say the least of it,
very cruel decree, it commanded part of those men
who had achieved all its victories and established
its power, to retire to private life, mot only without
pensions, but even without disbursement of the last
twelvemonth's pay; another portion it voted to
serve in Ireland against the Papists, which was
justly considered the most disagreeable duty that
could be assigned to men of their profession. The
soldiers were thus furnished with a pretext for re-
bellion, of which they soon proceeded to take ad-
vantage. Under the direction of Cromwell, Ireton,
and other Independent leaders, who had previously
moulded the whole mass to their will, they erected
a sort of counter-parliament among themselves,
seized the person of the king, advanced to London,
expelled the chief of the Presbyterian members,
and at once placed the government in the hands of
their own friends. So sudden was this revolution,
that it was entirely accomplished before any mea-
sures could be taken by the English Presbyterians
AND EXECUTION OF THE KING. 183
for calling in the assistance of their Scottish bre-
thren, and almost before any intelligence of its first
movements had yet crossed the Tweed. *
King Charles, though to all appearance as pas-
sive in the midst of these commotions as the bark
which tosses on the bosom of an agitated sea, was
in reality the most active intriguant of all the poli-
ticians concerned. The disputes of the Presby-
terians and Independents, which caused his coun-
tenance to become a matter of request with both,
suggested to him the possibility of accomplishing
his own unconditional restoration by a skilful ma-
nagement of their various passions, or by driving
them into desperate conflict with each other. En-
tering into secret negotiations with both, he en-
deavoured, by a sort of auctioneering dalliance, to
ascertain which would admit him to the throne up-
on the best terms, provided that he should castin-
to their scale the relics of authority or consider-
ation which still remained to him. The Presby-
terians, become in their desperation next thing to
royalists, for the purpose of opposing the democra-
tic Independents with greater vigour, gave him
vague promises of rewarding him for his favour by
a restoration of almost everything but Episcopacy;
the Independents, on their part, offered him at least
a toleration, if not also a restoration, of that fa-
vourite system of worship. Detesting, as he had
good reason to do, both parties alike, he acted up-
on no other principle in these negotiations than
that of taking advantage of their disputes to re-
trieve the rights they had united in ravishing from
him. It was only unfortunate for himself that he
sided with the sinking party, or rather, I should
say, with that which, in those times of violence,
had least military power to protect him,
184 ASCENDENCY of THE INDEPENDENTs,
He sided with the Presbyterians. Encouraged
by prospects which the Duke of Hamilton held
out, of bringing the whole Scottish nation to his
support against the Independents, whose power
now alarmed them more than ever that of Charles
had done, and perhaps conceiving that a renewal
of the war might turn up some juncture favourable
for his unlimited restoration, he ratified a secret
treaty with the Presbyterians of both kingdoms,
whereby he agreed, on condition of their placing
him again upon the throme, to sign their Covenant,
and establish their form of worship and church-
government upon a probationship of three years,
as also to concur with them in their favourite ob-
ject, the extirpation of sectaries or repression of
toleration. Had the enterprise of the Presbyte-
ºrians met with success, it is probable that Britain
might have been spared the execution of the king,
and the military tyranny of the next twelve years.
But, as an eminent writer has remarked, they had
to meet with Cromwell; and to meet with Crom-
well was inevitable defeat.
The reader, who has seen the Scottish nation
three times send an army against King Charles for
the protection of their Covenant, is now to be
amused with the strange spectacle of a fourth ar-
mament, composed of nearly the same persons, and
commissioned by nearly the same official indivi-
duals, marching into England for the precisely op-
posite purpose of protecting the sovereign, and to
the neglect in a great measure of the sacred bond
which had urged the former expeditions.
The association, however, upon which this fourth
expedition proceeded, was not nearly so firm, or
unanimous, or decisive an affair, as the more reli-
gious leagues which had formed the groundwork of
AND EXECUTION OF THE KING. 185
the former three. The Scottish Presbyterians were
by no means of one opinion as to the necessity of
emancipating the king; still less were they unani-
mous in thinking the conditional promises which he
held out sufficient to justify their going into a war
for his restoration. Many of them thought that he
should have been compelled to give earnest of his
good intentions by signing the Covenant, before
they should take any steps in his behalf. Others
were jealous of the strong loyalist or malignant
complexion which the association bore, and openly
expressed their suspicions that an unconditional re-
storation of the king was the real object of the en-
terprise, and that the Presbyterians, with their Co-
venant, would be thrown off, so soon as the de-
sired triumph was obtained over the English sec-
taries. “That the cursed army of sectaries,” says
Baillie, expressing the opinion of the most mode-
rate of the dissentients, “should vanish in smoke,
and their friends in the houses, city, and country,
be brought to their well-deserved ruin; that the
king and his family should be at last in some near-
mess to be restored to their dignity and former con-
dition, I am very glad : but my fear is great that
his restitution should come by these hands, (mean-
ing those of the Hamiltons and other loyalists,) and
be so ill prepared, that the glorious reformation we
have suffered so much for shall be much endanger-
ed, and the most that shall be obtained be but a
weak Erastian Presbytery, with a toleration of Po-
pery and Episcopacy at court, and of divers sects
elsewhere.” At the head of this uncompromising
party, which comprehended a majority of the cler-
gy, were the Marquis of Argyle, and Sir Archibald
Johnston of Wariston.
Such, nevertheless, was at this time the popular
Q 3
186 ASCENDENCY OF THE INDEPENDENTs,
feeling of affection for the king, and so much sym-
pathy was awakened by a proposal for his rescue
from the English republicans, that, in the new par-
liament, which met on the 11th of March, 1648, the
royalists were found to have a decided majority.
The Duke of Hamilton, who acted as leader, found
no difficulty therefore in procuring a vote for a
levy of forty thousand men. At the same time,
insurrections were organized in many districts of
England, to correspond with this grand invasion
which was contemplated from Scotland; seventeen
sail of the navy revolted to the king, and, sailing
over to Holland, put themselves into the hands of
the Prince of Wales; small parties of loyalists were
already appearing openly in Wales, wearing in their
hats blue-and-white ribbons, the royal livery, sub-
scribed with the words, “We long to see our king;”
some loyalists of the north of England had already
seized the fortresses of Carlisle and Berwick; one
party of horse, under a gallant cavalier of the name
of Wogan, had come to Edinburgh to put themselves
under the command of the Scottish general ; and
to all appearance there seemed no probability that
the English army, which did not muster much
above twenty thousand men, would be able to op-
pose an enemy so numerous, and which appeared at
once in so many different and opposite quarters of
the empire.
And it really never could have subdued the
loyalists and moderate Presbyterians, but for the
obstructions which were now thrown in the way of
the Scottish levies by the fanatic and unpatriotic
party which has just been described. This party,
having chosen rather to coalesce with the Independ-
ents than with the loyalists, and being secretly en-
couraged with promises and bribes from that party
AND EXECUTION OF THE KING. I.87
in the English parliament, acted with the most de-
cided hostility against the proceedings of the duke.
On account of a protest which they entered in par-
liament against the levy, they became distinguished
by the epithet of Protesters; while the opposite
party received the title of Engagers, on account of
their accession to the association for the king, which
was called “Hamilton's Engagement.” The church
emitted a violent declaration against the Engage-
ment, which they ordered to be read in all the pul-
pits of the kingdom. Individually, they preached
against it with the most enthusiastic fervour, “com-
paring it,” says Salmonet, “to certain of the mys-
teries of St John's Revelation, and threatening all
those who joined in it with the menaces which the
prophets of old denounced against Gog and Ma-
gog." Argyle himself undertook a tour through
Fife and the south-western counties, where it was
least popular, for the purpose of organizing a re-
gular military opposition, which was to be support-
ed by a detachment of the English army under
Lambert; and he had all his own clansmen pre-
pared to join in that enterprise. Precisely in pro-
portion to the warmth of the feeling which now pre-
vailed in favour of King Charles, and which evident-
ly caused the Engagement, was the feeling of alarm
about the Covenant, which excited this opposition;
and thus the nation came to be as thoroughly di-
vided into Engagers and Protesters, as it had ever
been into Covenanters and Malignants.
The gentle temporizing disposition of the Duke
of Hamilton was not well suited to act against the
violence of the Protesters. Instead of taking vigor-
ous measures for suppressing them, which his ma-
jority in the supreme court of parliament could have
easily enabled him to do, he spent much pains and
188 ASCENDENCY OF THE INDEPENDENTs,
much time in vain attempts to draw them into his
measures. There even arose a suspicion among the
ultraloyalists that he hadasecretunderstanding with
the Argyle party; and it is affirmed by Guthry that,
to efface an impression so unfavourable to his views,
he was obliged to get up a sort of mock duel be-
tween the Earl of Lindsay, one of his friends, and
the Marquis of Argyle. The marquis, pretending
to take offence at some equivocal expression which
Lindsay used regarding him in parliament, sent him
a challenge, and desired him to appoint a time and
place of meeting. Lindsay returned an answer on
Sunday evening, informing Argyle that he should
meet him next morning at five o'clock on Mussel-
burgh Links. They met there at the time ap-
pointed; when, if we are to believe a cavalier his-
torian, “the redders” whom they had appointed
to come up and interfere, failing to appear at the
proper time, they were obliged to dally an hour
upon the ground, without proceeding to business.
Lindsay was perhaps willing and anxious to fight;
but, according to Sir James Balfour, another Tory
writer, “all that was of them could not make Ar-
gyle fight, till he saw Colonel Haddam, the Chan-
cellor's man, coming to part them : then he was
something stout, and refused to subscribe a paper
which he would have formerly done, I believe
against his will, but which he had been forced
either to do, or else to cast off his doublet, and
boots, which he was wondrous loath to do in re-
spect of the coldness of the weather.” To com-
plete the farce, the Marquis of Argyle was obliged
by the commission of the kirk to perform public
repentance before them, “because he had had such
an hostile mind,” and Lindsay was desired to sub-
mit to the same degrading ceremony, but refused,
AND EXECUTION OF THE KING, 189
The combat, such as it was, and its attendant cir-
cumstances, caused great scandal to Argyle's own
party, but only furnished matter of sport to the
more knowing cavaliers.”
The only reason, however, which the ultra loyal-
ists seem to have had for believing the Duke of
Hamilton unfaithful to his prince, was no other
than that he acted, throughout all these troubles,
and as much on the present occasion as on any
other, rather with the generosity and moderation
of an extremely good heart and temperate mind,
than with the selfish views which influenced, in a
greater or lesser degree, all his brother politicians.
He was almost the only man of his time, who could
distinguish the real interests of his country from the
enthusiasm of religion, or who could entertain an
affection for the person of his sovereign without the
desire of seeing him rendered a despot. There was
perhaps no man whose fate it was to perish in the
tumults of this most unhappy time, not even the
king himself, more worthy of sympathy than Ha-
milton. After Charles surrendered to the Scot-
tish army at Newcastle, this amiable nobleman,
seeing no possibility of serving both his king and
his country, as he wished both to be served, so-
licited permission from his majesty to retire alto-
gether from the scene, and go abroad. But Charles
could not consent to part with one whose friend-
ship he estimated so much; and Hamilton remained
to be indeed what he declared himself, “the most
unhappy man in his majesty's dominions." He had
since then acted in the king's behalf with a great
degree of zeal, insomuch that he accepted the Cove-
mant in order to fit himself for the transaction of ne-
gotiations with his countrymen; but his zeal was
always tempered by a sort of melancholy, as if the
190 ASCENDENCY OF THE INDEPENDENTs,
doom which was destined to overtake him, had al-
ready thrown its anticipatory shadow over his mind.
Even now, when confessedly the leading man in his
native country, and looked up to throughout all
England as the person who was to have the glory
of leading his sovereign back from the prison to the
palace, he could not act up to the situation or cha-
racter which he held; but, like the criminal who
professes to die at peace with all the world, or the
martyr who smiles at the revilings of the rabble,
seemed inclined to pardon every insult and every
opposition, as if sensible that the punishment of the
offenders would only give him additional cause of
regret in his last hour.
Yet he did not carry this forgiving sentiment so
far as to forbear suppressing a dangerous insurrec-
tion which the wild party raised against his levies
in the west. At Mauchlin, in Ayrshire, on the
10th of June, under the pretext of attending a
communion, a vast number of recusamt recruits and
other country people assembled in arms; being, it
is supposed, excited by the Marquis of Argyle, and
encouraged with the prospect of an auxiliary force
from the English army. The duke committed the
charge of suppressing these misguided persons to
General Middleton, who accordingly marched to-
wards them, at the head of three hundred horse;
a larger body of both horse and foot being left be-
himd at Stewarton as a reserve. When Middleton
came up, he found the insurgents drawn out on
Mauchlin Moor, to the amount of eight hundred
foot and twelve humdred horse." They were at-
tended by eight ministers, and were just in the act
of choosing officers. To give an idea of the spirit
which animated them, it need only be mentioned
that six hundred had come from the little district
AND EXECUTION OF THE KING. 19 I
of Strathaven and Lesmahago, and were of course
vassals of the Duke of Hamilton, but had yet
thought proper to disobey their territorial superior,
for the purpose of doing what they considered their
duty to God.
The approach of Middleton was unexpected,
and they were a good deal appalled at the sight of
his troops. The ministers therefore came out to
solicit terms of capitulation. Middleton promised
safety to all, except the revolted recruits, (about
two hundred,) provided that the rest would dis-
perse. But, when these terms were declared to the
multitude, only the men of Kyle and Cummingham
would consent to receive them. Those of Lamark-
shire, including the vassals of Hamilton, expressed
a resolution to stand out. Middleton, seeing that
only a portion had acceded to his terms by going
home, charged the rest, sword in hand, and soon
succeeded in dispersing them. His men were com-
manded to spare lives, but compensated the re-
striction, according to the account of Baillie, by
seizing “horse, arms, and purses.” Unfortunate-
ly, a great portion of the fugitives having mistaken
their way towards a bridge, and being obliged to
stand at bay with their backs to the river, an active
conflict took place, by which folty of the insur-
gents were killed, besides a considerable number
of the troopers. Middleton himself, though reputed
an excellent soldier, was here somewhat hard press-
ed by a brawny and zealous blacksmith, who en-
tered into a personal combat with him, and soon
contrived to give him a few wounds. He after-
wards confessed, that, if he had not had the good
fortune to stab his antagonist, at a moment when
he was off his guard in the act of fetching too heavy
a blow at him, he would have certainly been slain.
192 AscENDENCY OF THE INDEPENDENTs,
Opposed as the Engagement was by a strong
protesting body, and by a majority of the clergy,
declaimed against on one hand as a union with the
enemies of the state, and on the other as a derelic-
tion of the Covenant, and a smare for leading souls
to damnation, there can be little wonder that its
levies were much and fatally retarded. The month
of July had arrived ere yet the Duke had collect-
ed fifteen thousand men out of the forty thousand
voted in parliament. By that time, moreover,
most of the co-operative insurrections of the Eng-
lish loyalists had been repressed. The prospects
of the sectaries, which had looked so gloomy in
spring, were again brightened; and, in short, the
opportune moment for striking a blow in favour of
distressed royalty was fairly past.
With these inadequate forces, of whom mot the
fifth man could handle pike or musket,” the duke
was at length obliged, on the 12th of July, to be-
gin his march. He was himself general, though,
it is said, much against his inclination; the Earl of
Callander, a Scottish soldier of fortune, was lieu-
tenant-general; Middleton had the command of the
horse. He entered England by the West Border;
“marching himself in the van of the army, with
his trumpeters before him, all in scarlet cloaks full
of silver lace, and a life-guard of Scottish gentle-
men, all very proper and well clothed, attending
him with standards and equipage, exactly like those
of a prince.” At his entrance into England, he
was joined by three or four thousand loyalists un-
der Sir Marmaduke Langdale ; but as there was
an act of parliament forbidding any person to be re-
ceived into the Scottish army who had not taken
the Covenant, these forces were obliged to march
quite distinct, and to rest in a separate camp. On
AND EXECUTION OF THE KING. 193
approaching Carlisle, the keys were brought out,
and delivered to the duke. Soon after, at Ken-
dal, in Westmoreland, he was reinforced by two
thousand foot and one thousand horse, which Sir
George Munro had brought over from the Scottish
army in Ireland, but whom he thought proper to
leave at that place, for the purpose of bringing up
the additional levies which he expected immediate-
ly to receive from his brother Lanark in Scot-
land.
The distracted and equivocal principles upon
which the whole Engagement was founded, proved
of most fatal effect in the conduct of its army. So
many religious parties as contributed to it, so many
different modes of action required to be adopted.
Of course, as it was impossible to submit its com-
ponent parts to any general recognised system of
command, so was it impossible to concentrate its
energies upon any given point. Every different
commander, as he represented a different political
or religious party, assumed what he conceived an
appropriate independence, and acted upon his own
responsibility. The different limbs of the army
moved at preposterously wide intervals. Langdale,
with his Catholic and Episcopalian horse, went at
least twenty miles, and sometimes even thirty and
upwards, a-head of the Scottish loyalists and Pres-
byterians. Behind them both lay Munro's Irish
veterans, and from them again there extended a
train of Scottish recruits all the way towards Edin-
burgh. Langdale's horse, scattered over the coun-
try in quest of forage, were intrusted with the
duty of procuring intelligence of the enemy; but
so imperfect an understanding subsisted between
them and the Duke of Hamilton, that he was ge-
nerally ignorant of transactions of great importance
VOL. II, R
194 ASCENDENCY OF THE INDEPENDENTS,
that were taking place in his immediate neighbour-
hood. It really would have required but a small
stretch of faith to see the probability of the pro-
phecies of ruin, shame, captivity, and death, which
the clergy at home were now busy in denouncing
against the troops of the Engagement.
The duke was dissuaded from marching through
Yorkshire, which was a friendly county, and pre-
vailed upon to adopt the road by Lancashire, which
was the reverse, on the approved military principle
of the time, that it was better to quarter upon a
foe than a friend. This course, however, only
brought him the sooner in contact with Cromwell,
who, though he had not above eight thousand men,
was now advancing upon him from Wales, where
he had been busied in suppressing an insurrec-
tion.
At Preston, in Lancashire, on the 17th of Au-
gust, the two armies first came into action. Lang-
dale, with his three thousand foot and about six
hundred horse, having fallen a little in the rear of
the Scottish army, was attacked that morning in
the enclosures near Preston, by an army which he
supposed at first to be only a tumultuary force
raised by the country people, but which he soon
learned from the prisoners he took to be the iron
and invincible squadrons of Cromwell. He main-
tained his ground for a long time, with great reso-
lution, against the superior numbers of the ene-
my, expecting to be relieved by a reinforcement
from the Duke of Hamilton, which he had sent
for. But, the duke having marched on, under the
impression that he was in no difficulty, till it was
too late to dispatch the necessary assistance, and
Langdale's ammunition becoming exhausted, he
was at last obliged to fall forward upon the Scot-
AND EXECUTION OF THE KING. 195
tish host in full and disorderly retreat. When his
grace was thus apprised of the real state of the
case, he endeavoured, with the few who happened
to be around his person, to beat back the pursuers,
and protect the rear of his own forces; and he was
successful in doing so three several times; but he
was at last obliged to retire in some disorder, lea-
ving the reputation of a victory to Cromwell, who
had gained the farther advantage of separating him
from Scotland, and from some valuable portions of
his far-extending army.
In a night retreat which his grace now perform-
ed, he found, on arriving at Wigan next morning,
that he had lost half of his men by desertion, and
the whole of his ammunition, except what the sol-
diers carried in their flasks. A sort of despair then
took possession of the army, arising partly from
their misfortune of the preceding day, partly from
the distracted councils of their officers, and per-
haps most of all from the weather, which was such
as to have rendered every brook a sea, and laid the
roads knee-deep in mud. Another day of retreat,
during which they were closely pursued by the
enemy, brought them to Warrington Bridge, where
the foot, being found totally unable to proceed far-
ther, and at the same time unable to fight, from
their powder being wet, were left, to the number
of ten thousand, under Baillie, to capitulate; while
Hamilton and the remaining horse pursued their
desperate march towards Stone, and finally to Ut-
toxeter. The foot were admitted to quarter by
their pursuers, but were afterwards, it is said, sold
as slaves to the Plantations at two shillings a-
head."
Cromwell left the army at this point, and went
north to attack Munro; the duty of pursuing Ha-
196 ASCENDENCY OF THE INDEPENDENTs,
milton was committed to Lambert. The chief of
the Engagement had still three thousand horse in
his train, and entertained hopes of getting into
Wales, where he did not doubt to be able to form
an advantageous coalition with some of the Cam-
brian loyalists. But the rear of his host being
overtaken by the pursuers, and an engagement ha-
ving taken place, in which his troops were unsuc-
cessful, and Middleton was taken prisoner; he
was shut up in the little town of Uttoxeter, and
reduced to the alternative of either fighting his way
out, or remaining to capitulate. The timidity of
his character induced him to prefer the latter
course ; both Langdale and Callander having in
the meantime deserted him, as certain of being
able to obtain no terms for themselves. He sur-
rendered himself and all who remained with him
as “ prisoners of war.” “ Such,” says Laing,
* was the event of the first expedition from Scot-
land, undertaken for the purpose of restoring the
line of its ancient monarchs, the ill-fated Stuarts,
to the throne of England.”
But, even after the defeat of Hamilton, some
hopes were still entertained by his party in Scot-
land, and especially by his brother Lanark, to re-
trieve matters by a second levy and the assistance
of Sir George Munro. For this purpose Lanark
took advantage of a trivial insurrection in Ayr-
shire to procure a vote from the Committee of
Estates for raising the fencible men of the coun-
try; and, when it was debated whether he or the
Earl Marischal should be put at their head, such
was his eagerness to obtain the command, that he
condescended to the indecent and extraordinary
expedient of voting for himself. When a consi-
derable band had been raised, instead of marching
AND EXECUTION OF THE KING. 197
to subdue the west country insurgents, he ad-
vanced towards Berwick to meet Sir George
Munro, who had now got thither in retreat from
Cromwell. This motion on his part had the un-
expected and fatal effect of encouraging the south-
western provincials to rise en masse, and advance
to Edinburgh, where it was found they amounted
to six thousand.
Before Lanark could return with Monro, the
famatic party had risen and put themselves at the
head of this tumultuary force, which they rendered
much more respectable than it otherwise could
have been by procuring Leslie to command it, and
which was in daily expectation of reinforcements,
from Argyle in the Highlands, and the Earl of
Cassillis in Galloway. Munro, with the unhesi-
tating decision of a professed soldier, counselled
Lamark and the members of the loyal committee
who accompanied him, to attack the Whigamores,
as they were called, in the capital, ere they should
gain farther strength; but, out of a tenderness to
save the effusion of blood, Lamark resolved rather
to march to Stirling, and there attempt to draw a
loyal army from the Highlands.
Accordingly, avoiding Edinburgh, the loyalists,
on the 11th of September, arrived at Linlithgow,
where a large party of westland recruits, on their
way to the capital, being surprised by the sudden
advance of an enemy, “ left their suppers at the
fire,” as an old historian expresses it, “to be de-
voured by the new comers.” Next day the Mar-
quis of Argyle, totally ignorant of the near ap-
proach of the loyalists, took possession of Stirling
and its bridge, with about six hundred foot and one
hundred horse, intending immediately to proceed
eastward to join his fellow-patriots at Edinburgh.
- R 2
198 Ascen DENCY OF THE INDEPENDENTs,
To his infinite surprise, intelligence was soon after
brought to him, as he was quietly sitting down to
dinner in the house of the Earl of Mar, that an
overpowering force was at the very gates, and was
already beginning to cut off parties which he had
planted to guard the outskirts of the town. Im-
mediately throwing himself upon his horse, the un-
fortunate marquis, to whom fortune seemed deter-
mined for ever to deny a fair opportunity of show-
ing his manhood, rushed out of the town, crossed
over the bridge, and, making for the country be-
yond, left his men to guard the pass behind him,
apparently umcaring for their lives, provided only
that one which was so valuable to the state as his
own should be saved. His clansmen, with a ge-
nerous devotion to his service of which he was al-
together unworthy, maintained their post for a
considerable time against the troops of Munro;
but were at length driven away, and either killed
or drowned in the river. His lordship gained the
North Queensferry in safety, and from thence pro-
ceeded to Edinburgh without attendance.
Lanark immediately set up his Committee of
Estates at Stirling, and took measures for the in-
crease of his army. But the Whigamores speedily
disturbed him by advancing, with Leslie at their
head, to Falkirk. Munro, with whom alone lay
the merit of having surprised Argyle, proposed
instantly to attack that great crude body, which he
entertained no doubt of cutting to pieces. But La-
mark, probably remembering the evil reputation
which Montrose had got by his victories, could
not be brought to consent to so decisive a mea-
sure. Seeing at the same time the impossibility
of maintaining a party otherwise, he resolved to
enter into terms with the enemy for the dissolu-
AND Execution OF THE KING. 199
tion of his army. Much against Munro's will, he
ratified a treaty with them in the course of a few
days, whereby it was agreed that both armies
should be disbanded before the 29th of October,
and that all civil and ecclesiastical matters pend-
ing betwixt them should be referred to the next
meeting of the Parliament and General Assembly.”
The whole fabric of anomalous loyalty which the
Hamiltons, as a last effort for the king, had reared
among the Scottish Covenanters, was thus finally
dissolved, and the power of government once more
reverted to the uncompromising Presbyterians who
had formerly enjoyed it.
Argyle, as a matter of course, planted himself
in the seat of government at Edinburgh, setting
up a Committee of Parliament, composed of his
own friends, as the ostensible organ. Oliver Crom-
well soon after paid him a visit at Edinburgh, as-
sisted him in the settlement of the kingdom, and,
it is further affirmed by the Cavalier historians,
procured his consent to the great measure which
the Independent party had now resolved on—the
execution of the king.
For the conciliation of the Covenanters during
the ascendency of the Engagement, the Inde-
pendents had re-admitted various of the expelled
members to the House of Commons, and had
given themselves altogether a considerable tinge
of Presbyterianism. Having mow, however, com-
pletely triumphed over that dangerous enemy, they
all at once resumed their sectarian and republican
complexion. In order to reduce the parliament
to their will, they sent a colonel of the name of
Pride to exclude from it by military violence all
such members as, from any cause, were favourable
200 Ascen DENCY OF THE INDEPENDENTs,
to the king. When a hundred and forty members
had been thus expelled, they erected, by vote of
the pretended parliament which remained, a “High
Court of Justice,” as they gravely termed it, for
the trial of the king. His majesty, who had pre-
viously been secured in Hurst Castle in Hamp-
shire, was brought before this tribunal, (January
19, 1649,) and, after a mock trial, which lasted
several days, condemned to lose his head on the
scaffold. On the 30th of January this sentence
was executed.
The death of Charles was followed soon after
by that of the Duke of Hamilton and of some
other persons, who, like his grace, had exposed
themselves to the vengeance of the dominant party.
Soon after his surrender at Uttoxeter, the duke
had been put into strict confinement at Windsor,
deprived, like his royal master, of all the external
marks of respect due to his rank. One evening,
as he presumed to walk beyond the limits which
were allowed him, a sergeant came up, and in-
solently commanded him into his cell; on which
occasion the duke could not help remarking, with
bitter feeling, that one who had a month before
commanded a large army, was now at the mercy
of a single mean soldier. Nine days before the
royal execution, his grace procured permission to
approach his majesty as he was conveyed through
one of the courts of Windsor Castle to his trial.
He threw himself at Charles's feet, his eyes were
suffused with tears, and he could only exclaim, in
an agony of mingled grief and affection, “ My
dear master!” Charles, overpowered at the sight
of a man who had done and suffered so much for
him, wept also, but had only time to answer, with
AND EXECUTION OF THE KING. 201
bitter sorrow, “I have indeed been a dear master
to you,” when his guards hurried him away. They
never saw each other again. The Duke of Ha-
milton, in direct violation of his treaty of surren-
der, was executed on the 9th of March.
202 CHARACTER OF
f
CHAPTER IX.
CHARACTER OF ARGYLE's Gover NMENT.
In one consort there sate,
Cruel Revenge and rancorous Despite,
Disloyal Treason and heart-burning Hate.
SPENSER.
THE Scottish nation in general received intelli-
gence of the death of the king with much surprise,
and with sincere regret. In all their exertions for
the establishment and propagation of their religion,
incompatible as they might have seen that religion
to be with the existence of the king, they had ne-
ver entertained any idea of violating his person;
on the contrary, they had sacramented themselves,
by both their Covenants, to honour and preserve it
with all their hearts and strength. Neither the
republicanism of their creed, nor the wars they had
carried on against the king, had ever made them
in the least degree anti-monarchical. They cherish-
cd for their sovereign a feeling of abstract loyalty
even more devout than common, founded perhaps
partly on the recollection that he was their native
prince, and partly on an idea then popularly enter-
ARGYLE's GovI.RNMENT. 203
tained, that his family had governed the kingdom
for two thousand years. Sharing as they did in
the favourite theory of the times, that to destroy
the king was to insult the deity who had anointed
him, and detesting the impious party who had
done the deed, they could not help contemplating
it with great horror; a feeling which was addi-
tionally embittered by the reflection that they had
been instrumental in his fate, in so far as they had,
to use the expression of Salmasius, bound him for
the slaughter which the Independents adminis-
tered. -
The Marquis of Argyle, whose name may now
be given as representing the government of the
country, and who had formed a scheme for conti-
nuing to govern it, in which kings had no part,
was not well pleased to observe this show of feel-
ing among the people; but he was nevertheless
obliged to humour it, in the first place by protest-
ing against the execution of Charles, and then by
causing his son to be proclaimed his successor.
While the king's trial was yet pending, he had sent
three commissioners to London, to represent to the
English parliament the interest which the Scottish
Estates possessed, in common with themselves, in
the person of the king, and to utter a protest, in
the name of the body which they represented,
against the extinction with which the English par-
liament threatened at once the king's life and the
government of his family. These commissioners
performed their duty; but the Independents only
replied by inviting the Scots to join with them-
selves in erecting Great Britain and Ireland into a
federal republic. It was in vain that the Scots
complained of the violence which the king's judges
were offering to the Covenant; that reverend do-
j * l •.
* , # =
204, CHARACTER OF
cument had recently been likened by an Independ-
ent, in open parliament, to an out-dated almanack.
When the commissioners saw their remonstrances
treated with neglect, they prepared to execute the
remainder of their instructions, which directed
them to sail directly from London to Holland, and
there enter into terms with Prince Charles for his
restoration, or at least for his admission to the go-
vernment of Scotland. But they were seized as
they were attempting to set sail, by a troop of
Cromwell's horse, conducted to the Borders, and
there ignominiously dismissed.” -
The Scottish Covenanters thus found—after all
their endeavours to procure the establishment of
Presbytery in England, after, for that purpose,
they had spent much blood, and treasure, and ho-
nour, contributed to the murder of their king, and
revolutionized their own government—that they
were much farther from their object than they had
been at the commencement of the undertaking; a
power being now dominant in England, which,
though willing to tolerate them, was far more ad-
verse to their views than ever the king had been.
Every thing considered, it was natural, under the
circumstances, that they should look to the young
exiled king as more likely to promote their ends
than the Independents, and that they should, there-
fore, have entered into a negotiation with him, with
the view of restoring at once him and themselves.
Had this been done in a generous spirit, had the
Scottish nation endeavoured with heart and hand
to rescue the reins of government from the bloody
faction which had so unjustifiably assumed them,
and put them once more into the hands of the le-
gitimate monarch, the eye of history might have
brightened at recording conduct so courageous,
& e -
e
is
a &
:
ARGYLE's GOVERNMENT. 205
and so patriotic. Unfortunately, however willing
the nation at large was to attempt such an enter-
prise, it was prevented from putting its good
wishes into execution, by the monstrous tyranny
which, under the mask of religion, was now op-
pressing it.
So entirely had religion now possessed the na-
tion, that no public measure was honoured with
the least share of attention or respect, unless it
had something sacred for its object; while it
was possible, by pretending to have that object in
view, to practise the grossest and most palpable
deceptions upon the people. The reader has al-
ready seen something of the progress of this na-
tional disease. He has seen, in the period which
preceded these civil wars, a strong prejudice in fa-
vour of the Presbyterian church, accompanied by
much zealous piety. Next, he has seen that pre-
judice and that piety exaggerated to an immense
degree by the attempt which Charles made to con-
vert the national church to Episcopacy. Then he
has seen them, influenced by a triumph in the strug-
gle with their sovereign, enter into a sort of crusade
for the purpose of extending their favourite religion
to a neighbouring people. He is now to observe the
national mind, thus held engaged upon one exclu-
sive topic for so many years, excited at last to such
a degree regarding it, as, like certain men of science
too long devoted to one object of research, to be.
come perfectly insane.
Never was any country reduced by conquest or
despotism, by plague or famine, to a condition
more truly deplorable than Scotland was by its
religious enthusiasm. It might be said, that, for
the sake of acquiring what they esteemed a pros-
pect of bliss in the world beyond the grave, the
VOL. II. S
206 CHARACTER OF
people had absolutely renounced every means of
rational enjoyment in the present state of exist-
ence. By their struggles for religious freedom,
they had reduced themselves to a condition of civil
thraldom ; by their efforts to purify their faith, they
had become worse than the most superstitious as-
cetics. Half of their lives were spent in severe
religious exercises; their minds were tortured with
horrid anticipations and misgivings regarding fu-
turity; their worldly property was impaired by
inordinate taxes; their persons were liable to the
most unrelenting conscriptions. By the ecclesias-
tical tyranny to which they had subjected them-
selves, every natural emotion of their hearts, how-
ever innocent or agreeable, was repressed as dead-
ly sin. Even those simple household pleasures,
those happy little passages of family affection,
which constitute so large a portion of the real joy
of life, were proscribed by this cruel system ; and
domestic existence was now a howling wilderness
—a world without a flower.”
The simple naked cause of all this was, that the
people, for want of commerce and other salutary
objects of enthusiasm, had devoted their attention
too exclusively to religion, and removed it from that
proper and becoming place which it ought ever to
hold in the mind, to one where it was the sole and
engrossing object of their thoughts. There was still
a rational class in the country, but it was for the
present too small to check or keep in balance this
monstrous faction of maniacs. The great mass of
both the common people and of the middle ranks,
were possessed with the enthusiasm; consequent-
ly, in a period of anarchy such as this, their repre-
sentatives, the clergy and the commissioners of par-
liament, became possessed of the whole power of
ARGYLE's Gov ERNMENT. 207
the state. In other words, government became a
committee of persons appointed by the people to
attend to the interests of religion. This commit-
tee may be said to have been composed partly of
clerical, and partly of secular persons, namely, of
the General Assembly * and the parliament, or of
their respective committees. When the circle was
a little narrowed, it was found that about half-a-
dozen clergymen, and as many members of parlia-
ment, or state-officers, possessing a sway over the
rest, founded either in talent or superior pretensions
to sanctity, exercised all the functions of govern-
ment. When the circle was still farther marrowed,
the Marquis of Argyle, the minion of the church,
and at the same time its lord-primate, was found
in the centre, like the horrid divinity of some pagan
labyrinth, apparently inert and insensate, yet dic-
tating the destinies of thousands by its slightest
movements.” *
The reader has already seen how this nobleman
re-established himself in his government, after the
temporary ascendency of the Engagers or moderate
loyalists. It will now be necessary to advert to
the methods which he took for fixing himself in
his place of authority. The first of his proceed-
ings was one which had for its object that import-
ant matter, the proscription of his enemies. By
an act which he caused to be passed through par-
liament, the whole of the Engagers, from the noble-
men who had acted as chief councillors and generals,
down to the individuals who had merely promoted
the levies, were declared infamous, and incapable
of ever after serving the state." Another of his
“ doings,” as Father Hay terms them, was one
which tended to ingratiate him more than ever
with the clergy: he abolished patronage, and rain
208 CHARACTER (; F
sed their stipends. By a third measure, he rid him-
self of a rival, the last and most dangerous that
now remained to disturb the enjoyment of his ill-
gotten power. This was the Marquis of Huntly,
who, on the 22d of March, was beheaded at the
Cross of Edinburgh.
On the very day of Huntly's execution, the
Scottish parliament, or rather the Marquis of
Argyle, dispatched a body of commissioners from
the Frith of Forth to Holland, there to lay before
Charles the Second the terms upon which he
might be admitted to the sovereignty of his north-
ern kingdom. Argyle, who was forced to this
measure, as to the proclamation of the king, pure-
ly by the popular feeling of loyalty, had purposely
made these terms very hard, that the young mo-
march might reject them; at the same time, they ap-
peared so essential to the existence of religion,
that the people could not complain of them as be-
ing unreasonable. They required Charles, in the
first place, to sign both Covenants, and thereby to
establish the Presbyterian religion in Scotland, and
endeavour to extend it to England. In the second
place, they required him to discard all his friends
from around his person, and deliver himself entire-
ly up to the possession of the present members
of government, who were avowedly his greatest
enemies. In the third place, they required him
to submit himself, for the future, in all things civil,
to the direction of Parliament, in all things eccle-
siastical, to that of the General Assembly. The
prospect which they altogether held out to him
was one of the most miserable description; a king
to appearance, but in reality a puppet and a slave.
The benefits which they promised to him, might
have been of some account with a person who had
ARGYLE's GOVERNMENT. 209
no pretensions to the kingly office, or who would
have been content, in the language of children, to
eat good meat and wear a crown. But to a per-
son with the rights of this young prince, and who
had yet friends that promised to restore him on
better terms, they appeared revolting and con-
temptible in the extreme.
One party in Charles's little exiled court viewed
the terms as he himself did, including his English
counsellors, the Marquis of Montrose, and other
loyalists of the more sanguine complexion. But
there was another party which strongly advised
him to close with them, as at least offering him an
opportunity of taking one step towards his restora-
tion. This party comprehended, besides the Duke
of Buckingham, the proscribed lords of the En-
gagement, Lauderdale, Callander, and Lanark, (the
last by the death of his brother, now Duke of
Hamilton,) all of whom, although themselves pre-
cluded for ever from office by the very terms of
the treaty, recommended his majesty's return,
either upon the disinterested and patriotic principle,
that they conceived it would be conducive both to
his own good and that of the country, or because
they were anxious by that means to get back to
their estates. In opposition to such moderate
counsels, Montrose offered to invade Scotland with
what forces could be gathered on the Continent, to
raise all the royalists in the country, and, dashing
forward upon the rebel government, endeavour,
by one decisive action, to re-establish King Charles
in all his native authority, and deliver his enemies
bound into his hands.
Charles adopted a line of conduct very natural
under his circumstances; he resolved to make a
secret trial of what Montrose and the other
S 2
210 CHARACTER, &c.
thorough-paced loyalists could do for him, and,
only as a dernier resort, to accept the terms of the
Scottish Presbyterians. Such conduct brought
him into the risk of offending the Presbyterians,
against whom the loyalists were of course to bend
their whole force; but the prospect held out to
him of procuring an unconditional restoration was
so much more tempting than the offers of the Co-
venanters, and there was in reality so strong a
chance of its being realized, that he scarcely hesi-
tated to decide. He, indeed, seems to have rather
considered his treaty with the Covenanters as an
interruption of Montrose's scheme of conquest,
which had been previously projected, than Mon-
trose's scheme an interlude in the treaty,"
MONTROSE's SECOND CAMPAIGN. 21 l
CHAPTER X.
MonTRose's SECOND CAMPAIGN.
As Alexander I will reign,
And I will reign alone;
Mly thoughts did evermore disdain
A rival on my throne.
IHe either fears his fate too much,
Or his descrts arc small,
Who dares not put it to the touch,
To gain or lose it all.
MARQUIS OF MONTRosſ.
AFTER departing from the kingdom, (Septem-
ber 1646,) in obedience to the commands of
Charles the First, Montrose proceeded with his re-
tinue to Paris, where he endeavoured to procure
the countenance of Queen Henrietta Maria, and
to imstigate various expeditions to Britain in favour
of his distressed sovereign. He there became ac-
quainted with the celebrated Cardinal de Retz;
and that penetrating judge describes him in his
Memoirs, as one of those heroes, of whom there
are no longer any remains in the world, and who
are only to be met with in Plutarch." Unfortu-
mately for his hopes, although his late achievements
in Scotland (embodied in an elegant Latin narra-
tive by his chaplain Wishatt) procured for his
name the notice and respect of all Europe,” it was
mot judged expedient by either Charles or his con-
sort to employ him again in the assertion of the
royal cause, ori account of the invincible antipathy
212 AIONTROSE's SECOND CAMPAIGN.
in which he was held by all classes of his country-
men, except the ultra cavaliers. When he at
length found that his services could not be ac-
cepted by his native monarch, he travelled to Ger-
many, and offered them to the emperor, who im-
mediately honoured him with the rank of mares-
chal, and commissioned him to raise a regiment,
the command of which he stipulated that he should
be permitted to resign, in the event of his being
called once more to Britain.
He was busied in the levy of his regiment in the
Low Countries, when he first learned the news of
the king's death. On this intelligence being com-
municated to him, he was struck with such vio-
lent grief, that, if we are to believe his biographer,
Wishart, who was present on the occasion, he faint-
ed on the spot. On recovering, he vowed to de-
vote himself exclusively to revenge the murder of
his beloved master; and, to give solemnity to his
vow, and at the same time expression to his grief,
he retired to a private chamber, where he spent
two days, without permitting a living being to see
or speak to him. He farther manifested the
steadfastness of his resolution, by composing the
following stanza, which, characterised as it is by
the conceits peculiar to his age, may nevertheless
be allowed to express, in wonderfully few words,
a great deal of emphatic sentiment:—
Great, good, and just 1 could I but rate
My griefs to thy too rigid fate,
I’d weep the world to such a strain
As it should deluge once again :
But, since thy loud-tongued blood demands supplies
More from Briareus' hands than Argus’ eyes,
I’ll sing thy obsequies with trumpet sounds,
And write thy epitaph with blood and wounds.”
With his mind in this strain, it may be conceived
Most Rose’s SECOND CAMIPAIGN. 213
with what delight he received, soon after, a mes-
sage from the young king, requesting his attend-
ance at the Hague, for the purpose of projecting
a descent upon Scotland. Immediately abandon-
ing his engagement with the emperor, he speeded
thither, and was received with open arms by the
king. An expedition being then projected, and
he having been invested by his majesty with the
rank of Lieutenant-governor of Scotland, and com-
mander-in-chief of all the royal forces there, he
lost no time in setting about his preparations. He
undertook a tour through some of the northern
states of Europe, under the character of ambassa-
dor from the King of Great Britain; and so warmly
did he advocate the cause of distressed royalty to
the sovereigns of those countries, that he received
a considerable sum of money from the King of
Denmark, fifteen hundred stand of arms from the
Queen of Sweden, five large vessels from the
Duke of Holstein, and about seven or eight hun-
dred men from the states of Holstein and Ham-
burgh. Having selected the remote islands of
Orkney as the safest point of rendezvous and at-
tack, he dispatched a portion of his forces thither
so early as September 1649.
The enterprise upon which he thus keenly en-
tered was both an arduous and a dangerous one;
the country being now so thoroughly subdued by
the Argyle faction, and he himself being so cer-
tain of personal destruction in case of a miscar-
riage. Yet there were many circumstances to coun-
tenance it. The ultra cavaliers, upon whom he
depended for the means of making up an army,
were now perhaps more numerous, and more
anxious for action, than they had ever been be-
fore; the very strength of the Presbyterian go-
214 MONTROSE’s SEcon D CAMPAIGN.
vernment, by its oppressions and proscriptions,
having inflamed them with the spirit of rebellion ;
and it being now a general sentiment amongst
them, that the force of arms, and the unconditional
restoration of the king, (which was Montrose's
object,) could alone replace them in the privileges
and possessions from which they had been ex-
pelled by that upstart faction. Of the prevalence
of this spirit Montrose had many assurances in the
private correspondence which he kept up with the
cavalier nobles and gentry; but the matter was
put beyond a question in the spring of 1649, by
the actual occurrence of an insurrection in the
north of Scotland. Under the Honourable Thomas
Mackenzie of Pluscardine, brother of the Earl of
Seaforth, a large body of the northern clans and
Moray Lowlanders seized upon the garrison of In-
verness, advanced beyond the Spey, and threaten-
ed to fall down into the Lowlands. They were
only suppressed by a vigorous and spirited charge
which was made upon them by some troops of
Covenanting horse, at a moment of fancied se-
curity.
It was another encouraging circumstance, that,
in Ireland, on account of the successes of the
Marquis of Ormond, in behalf of the royal cause,
there seemed some probability of a body of auxi-
liaries being sent over from that country to Scot-
land, for co-operation with Montrose. The Eng-
lish loyalists, moreover, were generally disposed
to contribute their countenance and assistance,
from a disgust at the treaty which Charles was
forming with the hated Presbyterians, and from a
conviction, that only such uncompromising and
bold measures as this daring adventurer was like-
ly to take, could now do any good,
MONTROSE’s SECOND CAMPAIGN. 215
If any farther encouragement had been wanting
to induce the Great Marquis to undertake this des-
perate enterprise, it would have been supplied by
superstition and by enthusiasm. With a weakness
common to all his contemporaries, cavalier and
roundhead, he was possessed by a belief in some
idle nursery prophecy, which foretold that he
should retrieve the fortunes of his king, and be-
come in consequence the greatest subject in the
empire. On the other hand, his enthusiastic love
of glory, which rendered him ever intolerant of
all cold and hesitating measures, caused him even
to prefer an expedition of this sort, which, though
dangerous, was one entirely of his own suggestion,
and completely under his own management, which
promised him triumph over his personal enemies
and rivals, and which gave him the prospect of great
personal aggrandisement, and of establishing his
name for ever on the glittering rolls of fame. In
all probability, he mever permitted himself to ba-
lance the hazard of the enterprise against its
chance of success, but, gratified to his heart's de-
sire with the prospect of once more resuming that
path of glory which he had been so reluctantly
compelled to quit, wilfully blinded himself to all
adverse considerations. The mood of mind in
which he undertook the expedition, was in some
measure indicated by the motto which he caused
to be inscribed upon his own banner—“Nil me-
dium.”
The very doubts which men expressed regarding
the success of his enterprise, perhaps only served
to confirm a man of Montrose's temperament in his
resolution to undertake it. To explain this, it must
be mentioned that the scheme was entirely of his
own creation; it was a thing peculiarly his own,
216 MoWTROSE's SECOND CAMPAIGN.
which sprung from the ardour of his own mind, and
which promised to himself exclusively the whole
glory which might result from it. It was under-
taken, not only in direct hostility to the Argyle
party, which was honoured with his intensest hate,
but against the wishes of the moderate cavalier or
Hamilton party, the leaders of which (Hamilton,
Lauderdale, and Callander) cherished a violent an-
tipathy to him, had insulted him by their neglect
even in the king's court, and endeavoured with all
their eloquence to dissuade Charles from sanction-
ing his project. To a man like Montrose, conscious
as he must have been of abilities which none of his
contemporaries could appreciate, and who there-
fore acted at all times as a sort of Ishmael, there
must have been great incitement in the prospect of
at length, by one prodigious stroke of glory, con-
vincing the sneerers, the cavillers, and the detrac-
tors—and that to their own dear cost—that he was,
in reality, what he had all along endeavoured in
vain to prove himself, a being of a superior order.
The very first movement he made towards his
grand object, was attended by a misfortune of
such evil omen, as, in the opinion of some of his
followers, ought to have caused him to desist al-
together. He had made an arrangement with the
Earl of Morton, by which, in consideration that the
king should bestow upon his lordship a gift of the
bishop's lands in Orkney, the forces calculated for
the invasion of Scotland were to be allowed to ren-
dezvous and recruit in that remote archipelago. Of
twelve hundred soldiers, whom he accordingly
shipped off from Gottenburgh, in September 1649,
under the command of the Earl of Kinnoul, no
fewer than a thousand perished by shipwreck on the
passage. The remaining two hundred, among
MONTROSE's SECOND CAMPAIGN. 217
whom were fortunately included the commander
and eighty officers, arrived at Kirkwall in Orkney,
about the end of September, bringing with them
twelve pieces of brass ordnance. They were im-
mediately joined by the Earl of Morton, and al-
most all the gentry of the country, who, by the way,
were extremely well affected to the royal cause;
and they were enabled to seize the important castle
of Birsay, which held out against them. But an-
other misfortune immediately befell the party. The
Earl of Morton, conceiving himself entitled, as local
superior, to command the native troops, proceeded
to act in that capacity; but, being resisted in his at-
tempt by his nephew, the Earl of Kinnoul, who held
a commission from Montrose to that effect, he was
so chagrined at his disappointment, or else took the
disobedience of his kinsman so much to heart, that
he soon after sickened and died. Kinnoul himself
happened to die immediately after. When Mon-
trose, therefore, arrived with the remainder of his
forces, in March 1650, he found that less progress
had been made than he expected in the business of
raising and disciplining the islanders, upon whom
he calculated for so much support. s
In the meantime Scotland was resounding from
end to end with the denunciations of church and
state against “the wicked and excommunicate
traitor, James Graham;” (for by such an epithet
had they entitled the marquis ever since his for-
faulture and excommunication in 1644;) and every
means was taken by the dominant party to inspire
the people with horror for his person and hostility
to his cause. A “Declaration,” which he had
caused to be circulated in the country for the ex-
planation of his intentions, was, by order of the
VOL. II, T 7
218 MonTROSE's SECOND CAMPAIGN.
Committee of Estates, burnt at the Cross of Edin-
burgh, by the hands of the common hangman:
They also thought proper to answer it with a
counter-declaration, in which they vindicated their
whole proceedings, from the commencement of the
national troubles up to the present time, and dis-
charged all, under the pain of high treason, from
assisting or countenancing “ that viperous brood of
Satan,” that “insolent braggart,” that “perjured
‘and malicious man,” “whom the Estates of Parlia-
ment long since declared traitor, the church de-
livered into the hands of the devil, and whom the
nation did generally detest and abhor.” A thou-
sand pulpits were at the same time at work through-
out the country, in the pious duty of slandering this
vile outcast; and the most rigid measures were
everywhere taken for preventing any individual,
even in the circle of privatelife, from speakingaword
in praise or in vindication of him. In the words of
Nichol, a faithful diarist of the period, “none durst
speak in favour of that nobleman for fear of censure
or punishment. That the truth of this may be
cleared,” he adds, “I thought fit to insert a pas-
sage, which was this: There was ane homest man
in Glasgow callit Johnne Bryson, who, being at
the Mercat-crose of that city, and hearing a procla-
mation there and a declaration against that noble
earle, the Marquis of Montrose, wherein he was
stylit traitor and excommunicat rebel, this honest
man did crye out and callit him ane honest noble-
man as was in this kingdom. The magistrates of
that toun, being informed of this speeche, were
forcit to tak and apprehende him, and carriet him
to Edinburgh, by ane guard of the toune officeris,
and presentit him to the Committee of Stait, than
MONTROSE's SEcon D CAMPAIGN. 219
sittand at Edinburgh, And he, by their order, was
cast into the Thieffes Hoill, wherein he lay, in grate
miserie, by the space of maney weeks.”
Their military preparations were conducted in a
style equally vigorous. It was no sooner certain
that Montrose had landed in Orkney, for the pur-
pose of invading the northern extremity of the
country, than they commanded David Leslie, their
commander-in-chief, or, as Father Hay irreverent-
ly terms him, “Argyle's Postilion,” to gather to-
gether at Brechin all those parties of horse and foot,
which, since the conclusion of the war, had been
dispersed over the country, as an army of protec-
tion. Before the muster was completed, Lieute-
nant-Colonel Strachan, a sectariam officer, who had
lately distinguished himself in their service by the
suppression of what was called “Pluscardine's Re-
bellion,” was sent north with about two hundred
and fifty horse, to countenance the levies which the
Earl of Sutherland and other great whig chiefs were
raising there, for the purpose of resisting Mon-
trose's march through their territories. Leslie, with
the foot, which amounted to about three thousand,
followed Strachan as quickly as possible, marching
generally thirty Scottish miles a-day.
It was about the beginning of March that Mom-
trose himself landed in Orkney. He brought with
him, for the accomplishment of his arduous enter-
prise, only five hundred foreign soldiers, who were
chiefly officered by his Scottish adherents. These,
added to the men formerly sent under the Earl of
Kinnoul, gave him an army of no more than seven
hundred disciplined men. It is true, he was able,
by the assistance of the loyal gentlemen of the
country, to raise and arm about eight hundred Or-
cadians; yet, when the unwarlike habits and per-
220 MonTROSE’s SECOND CAMPAIGN.
haps general disinclination of these allies were con-
sidered, and when his want of horse to protect them
was taken into account, it was hard to say whether
he was likely to be the better or the worse of their
assistance.
After a residence of three weeks in Orkney, du-
ring which he exerted himself not only to increase
the numbers, but also to improve the discipline, of
his army, he embarked the whole of his forces, fif-
teen hundred in gross number, at Holm Sound, the
most part of them in fishing boats; and he soon had
the satisfaction of landing the whole in safety, on
the extreme northern point of the mainland of Scot-
land, near the celebrated place called John o'
Groat's House. The people of this hyperborean
country, by reason of their remoteness from the
seat of government and of war, had hitherto been
in a great measure exempt from the conscriptions
and also from the military ravages to which every
county south of Inverness had for some years been
so cruelly exposed; and Montrose calculated se-
curely upon raising a large regiment in each of the
three shires of Caithness, Sutherland, and Ross.
Having, for this purpose, unfurled a great banner
which he had brought with him, on which was de-
lineated the figure of the late king, with his head
separated from his body, and the inscription
“Judge and avenge my cause, oh Lord!” he be-
gan with his usual promptitude to collect and
arm the natives. He at the same time proceeded
to impose oaths of allegiance upon the inhabitants,
and particularly upon the clergy, one of whom,
upon his refusing to subscribe a bond of loyalty, he
sent in irons to his ships." For the farther promo-
tion of his levies, he divided his army into two part-
ies, sending one forward towards the southern por-
Mo NTROSE's SECOND CAMPAIGN. 221
tion of the county, under Sir John Hurry, while
he himself moved more slowly with the other. Yet
all his endeavours were in a greatmeasure vain. The
people, alarmed to the last degree at his proceed-
ings, and previously inspired with a salutary horror
for his cause by their ministers, fled everywhere be-
fore him ; some to take refuge under the Earl of Su-
therland and increase the army for his opposition,
while others did not stop their flight of terror till
they reached the gates of Edinburgh, three hundred
miles away.
As it was an object of importance with Mon-
trose that he should keep the way open for a re-
treat to Orkney, in case of the worst, he command-
ed Sir John Hurry to secure, if possible, the strong
castle of Dunbeath, near the south extremity of
Caithness, which might serve for a guard to his
path. The castle, being deserted by its master,
was taken from the lady who possessed it without
much difficulty, and a strong garrison was imme-
diately planted in it. At the same time, as there
was some reason to apprehend that the Earl of
Sutherland might dispute the hill of the Ord with
him, by which an entrance was alone to be procu-
red from Caithness into Sutherland, he sent for-
ward five hundred men to take possession of that
famous and truly difficult pass; which, fortunate-
ly, they accomplished just as the earl was coming
up to anticipate and prevent them. When he
finally became aware of the difficulty of raising
men in Caithness, he passed over the Ord into
Sutherland, leaving his matural brother, Henry,
with a party, at once to possess Dunbeath, and to
send after him such recruits as he might succeed
in raising. -
As he advanced into Sutherland, the earl reti-
T 2
222 MONTROSE’s SEcond cAMPAIGN.
red before him into Ross, leaving his houses of
Dunrobin, Shelbo, Skibo, and Dornoch, under
strong garrisons, to protect his lands. Montrose
passed by these houses without making any at-
tempt upon them. As he traversed the country,
he was mortified everywhere, as in Caithness, by
seeing the inhabitants fly with terror and aversion
before him. On the sixth day after he had entered
Sutherland, he arrived, with an army decreased to
twelve hundred men, at Stratheckle, a vale at the
head of the Frith of Dornoch, where the county of
Sutherland adjoins to that of Ross. Encamping
there, he resolved to wait for some days, that he
might receive the promised assistance of the Earl
of Seaforth and his brother Pluscardine, or at least
hear something of their motions, before marching
farther into the Low Country, where his little foot
army would necessarily be more exposed, and
where he would be more remote from his resour-
ces in Caithness and Orkney. From this place,
confident of his strength and of the distance of his
enemies, he sent a message to the Earl of Suther-
land, informing him, that, though he spared his
lands for the present, he would, before long, cause
his more loyal neighbours to visit them with the
burning and spoliation which they merited on ac-
count of his lordship's hostility to the royal cause.
Alas, for his boastful security! This very mobleman,
by cutting off every means he had of getting infor-
mation from the south, and thereby preventing him
from hearing of the approach of the enemy, was
preparing for him a worse fate than that with
which he himself was threatened." -
Colonel Strachan, who has been already men-
tioned as hastening northward to countenance the
Earl of Sutherland's levies, had advanced, without
MontROSE's SECOND CAMPAIGN. 223
Montrose being aware of it, to Tain, (twenty miles
from the royal camp,) where, having been joined
by his lordship, together with his vassals, and those
of his friends, the Rosses and Monroes, to the
amount of five or six hundred men, a council of
war was held regarding their subsequent motions.
It was there determined, that, while the Earl of
Sutherland should make a circuit round Montrose's
camp, and get into Sutherland behind him, so as
at once to protect his lands from the ravages of
Henry Graham and the Dunbeath garrison, and be
ready to prevent Montrose's escape northwards,
Colonel Stracham should march directly against
the enemy, with his four troops of horse, and the
Monroes and Rosses. What chiefly induced them
to make this arrangement was, that to delay till
more strength came up, would in all probability
frighten the enemy away to a securer position in
the hills than what they now occupied in the level
country at Stratheckle, and that, in the meantime,
for want of good provender for their horse, they
would after all be perhaps less able than now to
make a vigorous attack.
While the Earl of Sutherland, therefore, retired
into his own country, to intercept Montrose's re-
treat into Caithness, Strachan, at the head of two
hundred and thirty horse, and a hundred and
seventy foot, moved deliberately along the south
shore of the Frith of Dornoch, in the direction of
Stratheckle. It was Saturday, the 27th of April;
and these pious soldiers for a long time hesitated
to advance, lest they should have found it neces-
sary to fight on the sacred day which was to fol-
low.” But they were soon determined in their
original intention, by intelligence that Montrose had
moved six miles nearer to them, so as to be with-
224 MONTROSE's SECOND CAMPAIGN.
in such a distance as would enable them to attack
him that afternoon. When they had reached a
place called Fearn, where they were only two
miles from the enemy, they concealed themselves
in a broomy muir, and sent out scouts to observe
Montrose's motions, and to calculate his strength.
These persons returning with intelligence that
Montrose had just sent out a party of observation.
consisting of forty horse, it was resolved that the
whole should remain quiet in the broom, excepting
only one troop of horse, which, being sent out for
display before the enemy, might lead him to think
that he had mo more to contend with. This judi-
cious scheme was attended with the desired suc-
cess. Montrose, being informed that a single
troop was incautiously advancing towards him,
took no pains to strengthen his position, but,
merely placing the few horse he had a little in ad-
vance, under the command of Sir John Hurry, de-
liberately awaited their approach on a piece of low
ground, where he had halted, close by the mouth
of the river Kyle.
Strachan then marshalled his little party for the
attack, dividing the whole into four parts; the
first, consisting of a hundred picked horsemen, he
commanded himself; the second, in number about
eighty, he placed under the charge of Lieutenant-
Colonel Halket; the third, amounting to forty, was
commanded by Captain Hutcheson ; and the fourth,
in which all the foot were embodied, was led by a
quarter-master of the name of Shaw.” It was his
design that, while he himself rode up with his
party, so as to confirm the enemy at first in the
notion that there were no more to oppose, the re-
maining three parties should come up in quick
succession, and all at once overwhelm him with
MONTROSE’s SECOND CAMPAIGN. 225
the announcement, that he was, on the contrary,
surprised by a large army.
Previous to setting out upon the charge, Strach-
an, according to the well-known custom of officers
of his stamp, planted himself under the standard,
in the midst of his men, and endeavoured to edify
their resolution by singing psalms, reading pas-
sages of Scripture, and praying to the Almighty
for success. He then cried to them, “Gentle-
men, yonder are your enemies, and they are not
only your enemies, but they are the enemies of our
Lord Jesus Christ; I have been dealing this last
night with Almighty God, to know the event of
the affair, and I have gotten it; as sure as God is
in Heaven, they are delivered into our hands, and
there shall not a man of us fall to the ground."
The ruse which he had thus calculated for Mon-
trose's destruction was completely successful. That
unfortunate general no sooner observed the real
strength of the advancing Presbyterians, than,
alarmed to the last degree for the safety of his
foot against so many horse, he ordered them to
retire, with all possible expedition, to a craggy and
woody hill, which lay at no great distance behind
his position. Had they succeeded in attaining the
place he indicated, before Strachan came up, they
would have no doubt been secure from the charge
of the cavalry, and might have even contrived, by
firing from behind the rocks and trees, to put the
enemy, charging over such rough ground, to con-
fusion, and perhaps to flight. Unfortunately for
them, Strachan made such haste, that, although the
ascent of the hill was, in the words of Sir Robert
Gordom, “verrie ill riding ground,” he overtook
the retiring loyalists before they could reach their
place of refuge. As he, accordingly, made the
226 MonTROSE’s SECOND CAMPAIGN.
attack at a moment when, both from their retro-
grade movement, and the depression of spirit occa-
sioned by retreat, they were in the worst possible
condition to meet it, he gained the victory almost
at a stroke. The Dutch and other foreigners,
alone, with that instinct of duty which is generally
shown by mercenaries, made any vigorous resist-
ance. The rest dispersed, and threw away their
arms, without firing a shot.”
In this unhappy state of his affairs, Montrose
himself fought for some time with desperate but
unavailing valour; till at length, his horse being
shot under him, and his army to all appearance
broken beyond recovery, he was obliged to think
of preserving his own life by flight. His noble
young friend, Lord Frendraught, observing him at
that dreadful moment to be destitute of a horse to
bear him off the field, generously yielded up his
own, observing, that “it was little matter what be-
came of himself, so long as his majesty's lieutenant-
general was well.” Montrose, thus remounted,
succeeded in getting clear of the wreck of the bat-
tle, being accompanied in his flight by the Earl of
Kinnoul, (brother to the late earl,) and by various
other principal officers.
Strachan's troopers, with the assistance of the
Monroes and Rosses, continued to chase and slay
the fugitive loyalists for the space of two hours,
the approach of night alone preventing them at last
from prosecuting their dreadful task any farther.
Ten of the best loyalist officers were killed, along
with several hundred common soldiers. Among
the former was Menzies, younger of Pitfoddles, a
brave young gentleman, who, being bearer of the
standard on which were the drawing and inscrip-
tion mentioned, refused every offer of quarter, and
MonTROSE's SECOND CAMPAIGN. 227
was at last killed while fighting fiercely in defence
of his charge. Two hundred of the loyalists were
drowned in crossing the river near which the bat-
tle took place. Four hundred were taken prison-
ers, including Sir John Hurry and other thirty of
ficers. Lord Frendraught, who had so generous-
ly yielded his horse to Montrose, had two wounds,
and was taken. As for the victorious party, only
two men were wounded, and one drowned. Stra-
chan himself was hit on the belly by a musket
bullet; but it was prevented from hurting him by
the double plies of his buff-belt, upon which it
alighted.* The principal standard of the enemy,
together with all Montrose's papers, fell into the
hands of the victors, who, before quitting the field
of battle, rendered thanks to God for their suc-
cess. They soon after returned to Tain ; but the
country people of Ross and Sutherland continued
to harass and kill the broken loyalists for several
days.” So many of the Orkney levies were slain,
that it was afterwards discovered that there was
not a family of gentry in that country which had
not lost a son or a brother."6 -
228 MONTROSE’s CAPTURE
CHAPTER XI.
MONTROSE's CAPTURE AND EXECUTION.
With goofſs, and scorns, and contumelious taunts,
In Open market-place produced they mc,
To be a public spectacle.
Henry VI,
WHEN the unfortunate general retired from the
field where he had seen his hopes finally and for
ever blasted, he directed his route, either by acci-
dent or design, along the wild and uninhabited
valley, at the mouth of which he had halted before
the battle. At first he pursued his way on horse-
back, accompanied by the friends who had got
away with him ; but, the ground becoming speedi-
ly unfit for his horse, and it being represented to
him that he ran the less risk of capture by travel-
ling without a retinue and in a humbler guise, he
abandoned in succession his horse and his friends,
threw away his cloak, star, and sword, exchanged
clothes with a Highland rustic, and toiled along
the valley on foot. The whole of that night, and
of the next day, and of the next night again, he
pursued his lonely and difficult path, his body ex-
hausted by hunger and fatigue, and his mind in all
($
AND EXECUTION. 229
probability a prey to the most agonizing sensa-
tions. When at length almost famished, “he for-
tuned,” says the author of the Sutherland Me-
moirs, “to light in his miserie upon a small cot-
tage in the wilderness, where he was supplied with
some bread and milk.” It must have been a
strange sight to see the man who, two days before,
seemed to have three kingdoms at his disposal,
now reduced to implore the hospitality of the
meanest shed which these three kingdoms contain-
ed. He was soon after, as he continued his flight,
obliged by the extremity of hunger, to devour his
gloves."
His first wish or intention after the battle, seems
to have been to get north to Caithness, where he
had still a party, and from whence, if no hope re-
mained of renewing the war, he could easily get
over to Orkney, or to the Continent. Unfortunate-
ly, his want of acquaintance with the country, and
the real difficulties of travelling at all through such
a mountainous region, prevented him from attain-
ing his object. He could only wander wildly on,
in famine and despair, amongst the immense hills
which encumber the west of Sutherland, ignorant
of almost every local circumstance, except that he
believed himself to be leaving his enemies behind
him. • -
Even in this satisfactory notion he was fatally
disappointed. His enemies, apprised of the direc-
tion he had taken, by finding, in succession, his
cloak, his sword, and his horse, and conjecturing
that he might get into the country of Assynt, the
western extremity of Sutherland, dispatched infor-
mation to that effect, to Neil Macleod, the pro-
prietor of the district, with a strict injunction that
he should apprehend whatever stranger of a sus-
VOL. II. U s
230 MIONTROSE's CAPTURE
picious appearance came within his bounds, and
promising him a splendid reward in case he should
seize “James Graham.” The Laird of Assynt,
who had formerly served under Montrose, and who
is even said to have been on foot with his vassals
to join him in his present expedition, made no
scruple to turn his attention to the duty enjoined
upon him, but dispatched everywhere, in search of
that “excommunicated traitor,” parties of the very
men whom he had just before designed for his ser-
VIC6,
By one of these parties the unfortunate Mon-
trose was discovered, along with an Orkney officer
of the name of Sinclair, and both were immediate-
ly brought before the laird. When Montrose met
his former friend, he thought there would be little
difficulty in prevailing upon him to act as his
guide to Orkney; but he soon found what a change
his reverse of fortune had produced upon the mind
of his captor. Neither pity for his condition, nor
“great offers,” (probably of preferment,) which
Montrose made to him, had the least effect upon
this hard-hearted man.” When the unhappy cap-
tive found him perfectly inexorable, he intreated
that, by causing his men to dispatch him where he
stood, he would save him from the ignominious
death which his enemies were sure to inflict upon
him.” But this favour was also denied; and As-
synt immediately sent off intelligence of his cap-
ture to General Leslie, who soon after sent a party
under Major-General Holburn to conduct him to
head-quarters.”
“Whatever indignities,” to use the words of
Laing, “the bitterness of party rage or religious
hatred could suggest, were now accumulated upon
a fallen illustrious enemy, formerly terrible and
AND EXECUTE O N. 23 l
still detested.” Under the charge of Strachan and
Halket, who had acquired the chief renown by
the late victory, he was conducted through the
north, in the same mean habit in which he had
been detected ; Leslie and Holburn being left be-
hind to complete the reduction of his followers in
Caithness and Orkney, which they very easily ac-
complished.
The Argyle government at Edinburgh, on learn-
ing the news of Montrose's defeat, had felt such a
transport of joy as to decree Strachan a present of
a thousand pounds sterling, together with a gold
chain, calculated by its length to reach from his
neck “to his boot-head,” and at the clasp of which
there was a costly diamond.” But when they re-
ceived intelligence that the hero's person was in
their power, they could only express their satis-
faction by ordering a public fast and thanksgiving
to be observed over all Scotland.” Having issued
orders for his immediate removal to Edinburgh,
they forthwith bestirred themselves in anticipation
of his arrival, to settle among themselves the man-
ner of his punishment. A committee of parlia-
ment was appointed, consisting of his known ene-
mies, to advise the Estates upon this subject. They,
after deliberating a very short time, gave in their
opinion in writing, to the effect that, on his arrival,
he should be, without further ceremony, sentenced
to the ignominious death which his numerous trea-
sons deserved. -
Montrose, during his melancholy journey to
Edinburgh, did not suffer his mind to be disturbed
either by the personal indignities to which he was
already subjected, or by the prospect of death and
torture which lay in all its horrors before him.
Knowing the worst which could befall him, and
232 MONTROSE's CAPTURE
having made up his mind to endure it, he rather
expressed an indifference to the distresses of his
situation. Being brought to the house of his fa-
ther-in-law the Earl of Southesk, where two of his
children were kept, he requested and obtained per-
mission to see them; yet, neither at meeting nor at
parting with these dear objects, could the natural
majesty of his countenance be observed to be in
the least degree disturbed. Almost everywhere
on his journey, the people, at the instigation of the
clergy, saluted him with abusive language, and
even with more substantial tokens of their hate and
horror; but the sedateness and serenity which be-
longed to his visage on ordinary occasions, never for
a moment forsook it.
When lodging at the house of Grange, near Dun-
dee, he is said to have very nearly achieved an es-
cape. The lady of the house having, without the
knowledge of her husband, conceived the idea of re-
leasing him, plied his guards that night so well with
strong liquors, that they all fell asleep. She then
invested him with a suit of her own clothes, and di-
rected him to make the best of his way through the
guards. He had got through the hall, where the
main guard lay, and had also passed the two exte-
rior sentinels, who were sleeping upon their mus-
kets, when, unfortunately, a drunken fellow, who
had heard of the abundance of drink that night in
the house, and desired to partake of it, met, seized,
and discovered him. He was immediately remand-
ed with much rudeness to his chamber, and there
more effectually secured." -
At Dundee, where he lodged next night, he was
treated with more kindness than at any other place
he had passed on his journey. The people of this
town, notwithstanding that they had lost more per-
A N D EXECU 'i'i O N = 233
haps by his wars than the inhabitants of any other
city in Scotland, could not see so illustrious an eme-
my brought to so wretched a condition, without
tears of pity. He was here furnished with clothes
suitable to his quality, in place of the wretched
Highland habit which his captors had hitherto,
by a refinement in cruelty, compelled him to re-
tain.”
Till this period of his journey, his treatment had
been only such as the soldiers or the common peo-
ple chose to inflict upon him ; and it had been as
severe as might be expected at the hands of persons
inspired by feelings and actuated by circumstances
such as theirs. He is now to be seen subjected to
the official and constitutional contumelies of the go-
vernment itself. -
On Saturday, the 18th of May, having been
brought over the Frith of Forth, and conveyed to
the gate at the lower extremity of Edinburgh, he
was transferred from the hands of the party of foot
soldiers which had conducted him from the High-
lands, into those of the magistrates and citizens,
who, arrayed in burgal state, were there ready, by
the orders of parliament, to undertake the duty of
guarding him through the city to his prison. Here
commenced the series of ignominious inflictions,
which had been decreed for his punishment by the
Committee of Estates.” He was, in the first place,
commanded by the hangman to uncover himself, in
obedience to the terms of his sentence. On his re-
fusing or hesitating to do so, the hangman rudely
snatched off his hat, and took it away from him."
He was then placed in a cart, which had been con-
structed on purpose for his transportation through
the city, and which was peculiarly calculated to ex-
hibit his person to the crowd, with all the required
- U 2
234, MONTROSE’s CAPTURE
circumstances of disgrace. At the end of the ve-
hicle, which was itself higher than usual, there was
reared a tall chair: upon it he was bound firmly
down by cords which passed across his breast and
arms, and which were fastened through holes be-
hind. On the horse which drew the cart, sat the
hangman, in his hideous livery, with a long staff in
his hand, and having his head covered by his bon-
net, the better to contrast with and show the igno-
miny of the prisoner.” In advance, his fellow-pri-
soners were conducted along the street, bound two
by two, on foot and bareheaded, according to the
fashion observed with highwaymen.
When he had been drawn within the gate of the
city, the magistrates showed him his sentence. He
read it with as composed a countenance as if it
had been some document which had no reference
to him, and finally returned it, with the observa-
tion, that “he would obey it : he was only sorry
that, through him, his majesty, whose person he
represented, should be so dishonoured.”
The whole of the lengthy and spacious street,
along which Montrose had to be conducted, was
filled, when he entered it, with a crowd, consist-
ing chiefly of the lower orders, and especially of
women ; almost all of whom had come out for the
purpose of loading him in his passage towards the
jail with their bitterest abuse, and with missiles of
contempt. Their ministers had urged them to do
so, at the fast held three days before on account
of his capture; and it was expected by the domi-
nant powers, but especially by the clergy, that
“ the bloody and excommunicat traitor” would be
half killed to their hands, or at least most effec-
tually abused, before he got to the end of the pro-
cession. To the infinite disappointment of these
AND EXECUTI ON, 235
ungenerous enemies, the people were so overpower-
ed by the dignity and courage which shone in the
countenance of the sufferer, or were so much moved
at the mere sight of illustrious distress, that they
universally relented of their purpose, and, dissol-
ving into tears, invoked blessings instead of curses
upon his head. The sacred brethren were so much
incensed at this exhibition of “malignancy,” or
backsliding, on the part of the people, that next
day they could scarcely do any thing else in their
pulpits but utter furious denunciations of heavenly
wrath against them, for neglecting to embrace so
excellent an opportunity of testifying against the
great enemy of their order.
There was, however, at least one of their wor-
shippers who obeyed their wishes, by insulting the
fallen Montrose. This was the dark Argyle him-
self; the man of all others in Scotland most grati-
fied by the scene which was taking place in Edin-
burgh that day. With an indelicacy almost as
shocking as any portion of the general cruelty
which distinguished this affair, Argyle had sta-
tioned himself, with his family and friends, on a
balcony projecting from the house of the Earl of
Murray, in the Canongate; where, as the cart
passed on the street below, within the distance of
three or four yards, he could enjoy a peculiarly
near and full view of his unhappy victim. There,
in triumph more disgraceful than the humiliation
of Montrose, was stuck up, in secure and tranquil
scorn, the man who, as a cavalier historian pathe-
tically expresses it,” had never dared to look Mon-
trose in the face when his sword was in his hand,
but who could now so boldly and so cheaply insult
him, when the arm was bound which had wielded
that terrible weapon. By a chance which added
236 MIONTROSE's CAPTURE
greatly to the indelicacy of the scene, this was the
day after the wedding of his eldest son Lord Lorn
to the daughter of the Earl of Murray; a day of
family festival and rejoicing; a day as auspicious
to the fortunes of his house, as it was ominous to
those of his unfortunate rival. It was, indeed,
owing to the feasts ineident to this very affair,
that Argyle and his family were here stationed to
behold Montrose's procession.
Whether in obedience to orders previously given,
or from a wish on the part of the guard to gratify
this important party of spectators, the cart was
stopped for a short space beneath the balcony, so
as to afford Argyle and his friends an opportunity
of inspecting and insulting their enemy at leisure.
It must have been a strange sight, to see two men
of the noblest rank in the land, who had originally
entered into life with equal prospects, and who
had for a long time acted in concert together in
political and also military transactions, now brought
into situations so extremely contrasted—the one
being, by dint of religious hypocrisy and chicanery,
at the very head of the government of his country,
while the other, by an unfortunate adherence to a
side uncountenanced by the spirit of the times,
was sunk literally, as well as metaphorically, un-
der the other's feet, condemned by him to death,
and at this moment exposed to any personal Con-
tumely which he chose to inflict. Never was the
affecting image of “the stricken deer” more stri-
kingly exemplified in mortal affairs than by this
singular contrast.
The innate courage, however, and the strong
self-possession which Montrose has been already
described as showing under every sort of treat-
ment, might almost be said, on the present occa-
AND EXECUTI () N, 237
sion, to turn the scale of triumph against his ex-
alted but chicken-hearted rival. Before the cart
approached, Argyle and his gay marriage-party, in
the expectation of finding the criminal only a spec-
tacle fit for ridicule, had put on their brightest
smiles, and stood all on tiptoe to catch the first
glimpse of so amusing an object. Even when he
was presented to their sight, and was found to
have been spared by the populace, they could not
help looking upon him with a malicious grin of
exultation and ridicule; the marchioness, in par-
ticular, choosing to express her feelings by spit-
ting over the balcony upon the hated enemy of her
house.” Under all these circumstances, sufficient
as they might seem to be to convert an angel of
peace into a raging demoniac, this high-souled no-
bleman presented so serene and majestic a coun-
tenance to his triumphant enemies, that they shrunk
back with confusion of face, and seemed to the
eyes of all unprejudiced persons more contempti-
ble, guilty, and degraded, than himself.
That the reader may be able to understand how
anxious his persecutors were to make the most of
this procession, it needs only to be mentioned
that, although the whole distance was little more
than half a mile, it occupied three hours' space;
namely, from four o'clock P.M. when it started
from the Watergate,” to seven o'clock, when it
finally arrived at the public jail, where Montrose
and his fellow captives were to be bestowed.”
Protracted, however, as it was, the gallant mar-
quis maintained his resolution to the very last :
insomuch that, on alighting at the jail-door, he
gave the hangman a sum of money for having
driven what he good-humouredly termed his “tri-
umphal chariot” with so much skill and care."
238 Mio NTROSE's CAPTURE
Immediately after he had entered the prison,
the parliament delegated two of its members, along
with two ministers, to call for and converse with
him. These deputies, however, he would not ac-
knowledge or speak to till such time, he said, as
they should be acknowledged by his master, the
king. They having reported this to their consti-
tuents, it was determined in full parliament, that,
for the sake of procuring intelligence from him re-
garding his friends and adherents, and also, if
possible, regarding the young king, they should
disclose to him that they had, since his defeat,
concluded a treaty with his majesty, and of course
procured a royal acknowledgment of their consti-
tution as a parliament.” But when the deputies
returned at a late hour and informed him of this
fact, he begged them to spare him their imperti-
mencies for the present, as he was extremely fa-
tigued with the hardships he had suffered on his
late long journey, and particularly with “the ela-
borate complimentary ceremony which they had
put upon him that afternoon.”
All the next day (Sunday,) he was unceasingly
persecuted by the visits of ministers and members
of parliament, who alternately endeavoured to
work his mind to a confession, and denounced him
for his obstinate silence. Anxious as he was for
repose, he expressed no violent symptoms of dis-
gust at these annoyances; but seemed rather to
resign himself to them, as a preparatory portion
of his sentence, which he could not obviate any
more than the last fatal scene. He told them that
“they were much mistaken if they imagined they
had affronted him by carrying him in a vile cart
the day before ; he esteemed it the most honour-
able and cheerful journey he had ever performed
AND EXECUTION. 239
in his life; his most merciful God and Redeemer
had all the while manifested his presence to him
in a most comfortable and delightful manner, sup-
plying him with resolution to overlook the re-
proaches of men, and behold him alone for whose
cause he suffered.” He was guarded, while in
prison, by the infamous Major Weir (afterwards
burnt for sorcery and incest,) a wretch who was
perhaps preferred to that duty on account of his
wonderful fluency of prayer and revilement, and
who contrived to give additional pain to his un-
fortunate charge by continually smoking tobacco,
which Montrose was known to abhor.”
Being cited to attend parliament on Monday
at ten o'clock, he rose early that morning, and
dressed himself in a fine suit of clothes which he
had ordered to be prepared for him after arriving
at Edinburgh. This suit consisted, according to
the minute ammalists of the time, in a scarlet rochet
or coat, trimmed with silver galouns, lined with
crimson taffeta, and reaching to his knee; a set of
pure black under-clothes, richly overlaid with lace;
a beaver hat, with a rich silver band; carnation-
coloured silk stockings, with garters; and roses
for his shoes.” When brought into the Parliament
House, he was commanded to ascend to what was
called the place of delinquents; a command which
he obeyed, with a dauntless though modest air,
uncovering himself, as he appeared before the
members, in token of his respect for the character
with which his sovereign had now been pleased to
invest them.
He had no sooner appeared than the Chancellor
(Earl of Loudoun) rose, and uttered a lengthened
summary of his various rebellions, and bloody
deeds against the state, expatiating with peculiar
8
240 MONTROSE’s CAPTURE
emphasis upon his base desertion of the National
Covenant, which he had at first promoted so
heartily, and also accusing him of breaking the
Solemn League and Covenant, for which the whole
mation stood bound. At the conclusion of the
invective Montrose stood up, and desired leave to
say a few words in his own defence; which being
with some difficulty allowed, he thus addressed
the assemblage :
In all cases, he said, and particularly in public
affairs, he had acted as became a good Christian
and a faithful subject, and he had done nothing of
which he was ashamed or had cause to repent.
He confessed frankly that he had engaged in the
first or National Covenant, and had complied with
it, and with those who took it, as long as the
ends for which it was ordained were observed ;
but when he discovered, what was soon evident to
all the world, that some private persons, under the
pretence of reforming errors in religion, and pre-
serving public liberty, intended to abridge and take
away the king's lawful authority, and assume it
themselves, he had then withdrawn himself from
that engagement; and when, in order to disappoint
these men, and clear themselves from being con-
cerned in such base designs, the homest part of the
nation thought it necessary to enter into an asso-
ciation for the security of religion and the pre-
servation of the royal authority, he likewise joined
it and subscribed it. As for the Solemn League
and Covenant, as he had never taken it, and never
could approve it as a just or lawful confederacy,
he did not see how he could be accused of having
broken it. How far religion, which was now split
into innumerable sects and parties, had been ad-
vanced by it, and what horrible mischiefs and
AND EXECUTION. - 24, 1
dreadful tragedies it had occasioned, the distressed
state of the three kingdoms, he said, bore ample
testimony. At the time when this infamous treaty
was ratified, it had pleased the late king to com-
mission him to enter the kingdom of Scotland, and
endeavour to divert the people from their rebel-
tious purpose. What had been his conduct through-
out that enterprise, many persons present could
bear witness: it had not always been in his power,
any more than in that of the greatest known
generals, to suppress the disorders of his followers;
but he had always endeavoured to do so. He had
never spilt any blood, not even that of his most
inveterate enemies, except upon the field; and
even in the greatest heat of action, he had pre-
served the lives of many thousands. As he had
taken up arms only at the command of the king,
so had he also laid them down upon his orders,
without any regard to his own interest, and retired
beyond the seas.
As to his late invasion, he said, he had under-
taken it at the command of his present majesty,
who conceived that it might accelerate the treaty
he had begun with them. When that end should
have been served, he declared that it was his in-
tention to have laid down his arms as peaceably as
he had formerly done at the command of Charles
the First. Thus, he believed he might truly af-
firm that no subject had ever acted upon more ho-
mourable grounds, or by the sanction of a more
lawful authority, than he had done.
He concluded by earnestly imploring them to
lay aside all prejudice, private animosity, and de-
sire of revenge, and consider him with a mere re-
gard to the abstract justice of his cause. He be-
seeched them, before giving judgment, to reflect
VO I, , II, X
24.2 MIONTROSE’s CAPTURE
upon the purity of his motives, the sacred names
which had commissioned his actions, and the obli-
gations under which they themselves lay to him
for having spared their lives and fortunes at a time
when he only wanted the inclination to have de-
stroyed both. He intreated them to do nothing
rashly or under the influence of personal feeling,
but to judge him according to the laws of God,
the laws of nature and mations, and particularly
by the laws of the land. If they should refuse to
do so, he appealed to the just judge of the world,
who at last must estimate the merits of both ac-
cusers and accused.*
As he delivered this pathetic but manly appeal,
which is here given as the best possible vindica-
tion of his life and character, it was impossible for
the most attentive observer to perceive, in his
countenance, or in the tones of his voice, the
slightest symptom of agitation of mind. On the
contrary, many of those present afterwards con-
fessed that he bore on this trying occasion precisely
the same aspect, and spoke with precisely the
same confidence, as they had formerly observed in
him when he was moving at the front of a victo-
rious army.” It would appear that, even in these
circumstances of degradation and despair, the great
Montrose carried in his outward bearing the marks
of that superiority of intellect and character which
his whole life had indicated : even on the seat of
scorn, where he was now placed, he shone a supe-
rior being over the more exalted and honoured
personages, who were assembled to satisfy their
mean revenge by destroying him.
As might have been anticipated, and as he him-
self no doubt anticipated, his speech had no effect
upon his judges, czcept, perhaps, that of alarming

AN D EXECUTION. 243
their consciences, and damping a little the cruel
joy which they felt in thus exercising arbitrary
and unquestionable sway over a detested foe.
While the rest sat under it with shaken courage
and confusion of face, the chancellor, upon whose
heart of iron a speech of daggers could have had
no effect, rose and replied ; “punctually proving
him, by his acts of hostility, to be a person most
infamous, perjured, and treacherous, and, of all
that ever this land brought forth, the most cruel
and inhumane butcher and murderer of his nation;
a sworn enemy to the Covenant and peace of his
country, and one whose boundless pride and am-
bition had lost the father, and, by his wicked
counsels, done what in him lay to destroy the
son.” 34 -
The prisoner rose, and attempted to rejoin; but
Loudoun insolently ordered him to “ hold his
tongue.” Being ordered to kneel, in conformity
to the decree of parliament, passed respecting him on
Friday last, he obeyed, with a remark, that he only
did so from respect to his master, who had ac-
knowledged them, and not from any meanness of
spirit or abstract disposition to honour them.” Sir
Archibald Johnston, the clerk-register, then read
out his sentence, in the following terms: “He
was to be hanged on a gibbet at the Cross of
Edinburgh, with a copy of his “Memoirs, by
Wishart, and a copy of his ‘Declaration,' tied by
a rope about his neck; after hanging the space of
three hours, he was to be cut down by the hang-
man; his head, hands, and legs, to be cut off, and
afterwards distributed as follows: his head to be
affixed on an iron pin, and set on the pinnacle of
the west gavel of the new prison of lºdinburgh;
one hand to be set on the port (gate) of Perth, the
244. Mon TROSE’s CAPTURE
other on the port of Stirling; one leg and foot on
the port of Aberdeen, the other on the port of
Glasgow. If he was at his death penitent, and
relaxit from excommunication, then the trunk of
his body to be interred, by pioneers, in the Grey
Friars' church; otherwise, to be interred, by the
hangman's men, under the gallows, on the Burrow-
muir.” The dempster, or executioner, having, ac-
cording to the custom of Scotland, repeated this
doom, he was remanded to prison, to await his
fate, which was to take place next day at three in
the afternoon.”
He had no sooner been replaced in the jail, than
the ministers returned to the attack in full cry,
striving, by exaggerated representations of the cir-
cumstances of death, and by threats of eternal
damnation, to frighten him into a submission to
their church, so that he might be relaxed from the
pains of his excommunication. They were natu-
rally very anxious to work his mind to this point;
because, to have procured the obedience of so
prime a malignant as Montrose, would have en-
abled them to triumph over the whole of his party,
and of course to establish themselves more firmly
in that domination over the public mind at which
they were aiming. But he disappointed them in
their efforts. Instead of feeling vexed, he said, at
the decree of parliament, which ordered his head
to be fixed on the pinnacle of the tolbooth, he was
more gratified by the prospect, than he could have
been had they decreed a golden statue to be erect-
ed to him in the market-place, or his picture to be
suspended in the king's bed-chamber. Instead of
regretting that his body should be separated into
so many portions, he wished that he had flesh
enough to afford a piece to every city in Christen-
AN D EXEC UTION. 245
dom, that his unshaken affection and fidelity to the
cause of his sovereign might thereby be testified as
extensively as possible.
He spent the ensuing night in reducing this last
sentiment to verse, and in inscribing it upon the
window of his cell. The lines were afterwards
found to run as follows:—
Let them bestow on every airt 28 a limb,
Then open all my veins, that I may swim
To thee, my Maker, in that crimson lake;
Then place my parboil’d head upon a stake ;
Scatter my ashes, throw them in the air ;
Ilord, 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.29
He also spent a considerable portion of this night
in solitary prayer; having found it impossible, the
day before, to compose himself for that purpose,
on account of the impertinencies and persecutions
of the clergy,” and being perhaps apprehensive that
he would be allowed no more leisure for such a
purpose during the ensuing forenoon.
Next morning, (Tuesday, May 21, 1650,) hear-
ing the whole tewm resound with drums and
trumpets, he asked his guards, who never left his
chamber, what was meant by sounds so unusual.
He was told that it was to call out the citizens
and soldiers to arms, the parliament thinking it
necessary to guard him strictly at his execution,
lest the malignants should attempt a rescue. “In-
deed!” he replied; “Is it possible that I, who was
such a terror to these good men when alive and
prosperous, continue still so formidable to them,
now that I am bound for slaughter P In that case,
I must be still more terrible to them when alto-
gether dead.”
N 2
24.6 MONTROSE's CAPTURE
In a similar spirit he replied to an impertiment
remark which Sir Archibald Johnston of Warriston
had the brutality to make upon him as he was
dressing himself for the last fatal scene. This
stern and sullen puritan (who, it is some consola-
tion to think, suffered an ignominious death, thir-
teen years after, on the very spot where Montrose
suffered,) observing the unfortunate nobleman
combing his hair, asked him if he could not find
an employment more befitting his awful situation.
“So long as my head is my own,” said Montrose,
“I will dress it as I have been accustomed to do;
to-morrow, when it is yours, you may treat it as
you please.” This perhaps conveyed a taunt more
than met the ear; for Warriston was one of an
unrelenting party of his enemies, who, when some
others proposed more merciful measures, insisted
upon his suffering the whole punishment described
by the sentence.
When the hour of execution approached, this
illustrious man was conducted from the prison to
the scaffold, on the same cart which had previously
been used to drag him into the city. He was
now dressed in a more sumptuous style than be-
fore. Besides his coat of scarlet, his under-clothes
of black velvet, his carnation-coloured stockings,
and shoes with roses, he now wore a splendid
cloak of the same colour with his coat, laid over
with the richest silver lace, and trimmed with
gold. Upon his hands he had a pair of delicate
white gloves ; in one of them he carried his hat,
round which there was an extremely rich band of
gold. “He had,” to use the words of Nichol, the
diarist, “ sarkis (shirts) provided for him, with
pearlings about, above ten pund the ell, and also
ame prettie cassick to put on him when he reached
AND EXECUTION. 247
the scaffold; all which were provided for him by
his friends.” His countenance and whole bearing
were strictly of a piece with this gay attire ; he
seemed, says Nichol, rather like a bridegroom
going to the house of his mistress, than a criminal
on his way to the gallows. “So grand was his
air,” says Wishart, “ so much bravity, majesty,
and gravity, appeared in his countenance, that the
whole city was shocked at the cruelty which was
designed him, and even his enemies were obliged
to confess that he was a man of the most lofty and
elevated soul, and the most unshaken constancy
and courage that his age had produced.” On
reaching the scaffold, and alighting from the cart,
he said to a person whom he knew, “You see
what compliments they put upon me; yet, after
all, I never in my life took more delight in riding
in a coach than I have done in that cart.”
A multitude more dense, perhaps, than was ever
before collected on the High-street of Edinburgh,
had already for several hours surrounded the area
staked off for the scene of death. In the midst of
that spacious and lofty place, on the very spot
where this noble person had formerly acted as a
great popular leader, there rose a scaffold nearly
level with the eyes of the spectators, from the
centre of which sprung a gibbet of the extraordi-
mary height of thirty feet, with a tall double ladder
leaning against it. A cluster of clergymen, in full
canonicals, stood at the lower end of the scaffold :
at another place stood the magistrates of the city,
whose duty it was to see the sentence executed.
The executioner, in his terrific livery, with his
staff of office in his hand, formed another figure
in the scene. A bench was there also laid out,
with knives and axes, for the purpose of severing
248 MontRoSE’s CAPTURE
the members of the victim, after he should be
suspended the proper time. Around the scaffold,
soldiers and armed citizens were arranged in mua
merous files, to guard against the possibility of
escape or rescue. Every foot of ground to the
distance of several hundred yards, and every win-
dow and balcony around, was crowded with spec-
tators; some of whom were prepared to gratify
their sensations of personal vengeance, some to
feast their complacent spiritual pride, while the
great mass was simply attracted by curiosity to
witness the last agonies of so celebrated and so
remarkable a fellow creature.
Immediately after he had mounted the scaffold,
Montrose attempted to address the people assem-
bled round it; but that privilege, common to every
species of malefactor in Scotland, was sternly de-
nied to him; he was only permitted to open his
mind to the individuals who immediately sur-
rounded him. A few of his last expressions, as
preserved by a boy who secretly took them down
in short-hand writing, may be given here, as being
in all probability strongly characteristic of the
TY18 Il.
“I would now be very sorry,” he said, “if this
scene should be a scandal to any good Christian.
My fate is one which may happen to the righteous
from the hands of the wicked, as well as to the
wicked from the hands of the righteous. They
that know me should not condemn me for it; for
many greater than me have been dealt with as
hardly. Yet, however I may consider my fate
hard as inflicted by man, I acknowledge it just as
coming indirectly from God. I therefore blame
no man for it, nor complain of any man's judgment;
I take it from the hand of God, whose instruments
AND EXECUTION. 24.9
they are, and forgive them for it; may God also
forgive them. To exonerate myself from the scan-
dal with which many good people load me, I ob-
test that all I did was from pity for distressed sove-
reignty. I have never known any other maxim of
conduct than to fear God and honour the king. I
have not sinned against man, but against God; and
with him there is mercy, and this is my ground of
hope in drawing near to him. I pray God that
there be no farther judgments on this land. As for
that which the Lord's people chiefly urge against
me, namely, that I am excommunicated by the
church, I can only say, it is not my fault, as the
sentence was incurred purely by my zeal for the
service of my lawful prince. Yet I am sorry that
they excommunicated me; and if I could be re-
laxed without infringing the laws of God or trench-
ing upon my allegiance, I would be very happy.
If not, I must appeal to God, who will be a less
partial judge. One thing has been urged against
me by another party—that I lay all the blame on
the king. God forbid! As for the late king, he
lived a saint and died a martyr; I pray God I may
end so ; and if ever I could wish my soul in an-
other man's soul's stead, it would be in his. And
for this king, who, I hope, will soon be establish-
ed in peace over the people he is so well qualified
to govern with discretion, all his commands to me
were mostjust, and all his engagements did he most
faithfully fulfil. I pray that nobody may attribute
the loyalty of my principles to obdurateness of heart;
it is but the light of my soul and conscience, and
God's spirit in me. I thank God I go not to Hea-
ven's throne ignorantly, though I have not much
knowledge. I desire not to be presumptuous. It
is God that suffers me not to fear the terrors of
250 MONTROSE’s CAPTURE
death. It is the conscience and reason which he has
given me, that enables me to appear here with
courage. Whatever my end be, let God be glo-
rified, though it were to my damnation. I say not
this out of weakness and fear, but out of my duty
to God and love to his people; for, looking on
you, I cannot but mourn; therefore, I can say no
more, but desire your prayers. You that are scan-
dalized at me, give me your charity; I shall pray
for you all. I leave my soul to God, my service
to my prince, my good-will to my friends, and my
name in charity to you all. I might say more, but
this is enough to exonerate my conscience. The
rest I leave to the mercy of God.”
When he had thus delivered himself, the cler-
gymen approached him, and asked for the last time
if he would accept of a relaxation from their cen-
sure upon the terms formerly proposed. He firm-
ly replied that he could not, but desired to have
their prayers. They rejoined, that, so long as he
was under sentence of excommunication, they could
not yield him any ghostly assistance; nor would
it be of any service to him, as he was consigned
to perdition by the sentence, and their prayers
could not reverse his doom. One of these mista-
ken men did not scruple even to tell him, that he
was a faggot of hell, and he already saw him there
burning.” Without being discomposed by their
taunts, the unfortunate nobleman proceeded to
utter a solitary prayer of about a quarter of an
hour's length, covering his face during the time
with his hat, and holding up the remaining hand
to heaven.
He then addressed himself to the final duty of
preparing his person for the gibbet. Calling for
the executioner, he gave to that officer of terror a
AND EXECUTION. 251
few pieces of gold, along with some directions re-
garding the signal for death. He pleaded earnest-
ly to be permitted to wear his cloak and hat, but
was told that he could not on any account be gra-
tified in such a wish. The man brought him the
volume of his Memoirs, and the copy of his Decla-
ration, which the Estates had decreed to be sus-
pended round his neck, and he accommodated him-
self with great apparent good humour and alacri-
ty to the duty of having these trophies adjusted
according to the humour of his judges;” they were
arranged like epaulets on his shoulders.” While
this little ceremony was in progress, he remarked
that he felt more satisfaction in this flattering
badge—this splendid collar of merit, than he had
experienced even at that proud moment when in-
vested by the hand of his sovereign with the ho-
nourable order of the garter. But when the ma-
gistrates ordered his arms to be pinioned, this gay
humour suddenly gave place to displeasure and in-
dignation. However, he had sufficient presence of
mind to express no dissatisfaction. He only ask-
ed, with bitter irony, if they had any other com-
pliment or mark of respect to bestow upon him ;
as, having but a short time to live, he was na-
turally anxious to enjoy as many of the honours of
this world as possible.
When he had completed all these painfully mi-
nute preparations, which are so apt to seem to the
mind of an unconcerned spectator more intolerable
to the sufferer than even the step of death itself,
this greatly injured and unfortunate man, with the
same modest courage and serenity of aspect which
he had hitherto sustained, submitted to the last in-
fliction which his enemies had to bestow upon his
252 MontROSE’s ExEcurio N.
living body. The executioner wept as he turned
him from the ladder, and the last sounds which
reached the ears of Montrose,” were those of re-
gret and pity, which the sight of his death occa-
Bioned amidst the surrounding multitude.”
CHARLES II.'s RESIDENCE, &c. 253
CHAPTER XII.
CHARLES II.'s RESIDENCE IN SCOTLAND.
Subjected thus,
How can you say to me I am a king 2
King Richard the Second.
WHEN Charles was informed of the execution
of Montrose, and was at the same time made
aware that the catastrophe had been hurried purely
that he might have no opportunity of remonstra-
ting, he is said to have felt no little grief for the
loss of so faithful and gallant an adherent, and
quite as much indignation at the cruelty which
dictated the deed. Being, however, told by the
more moderate party of the Scottish Presbyterians,
that his friend had been sacrificed chiefly as a
means of conciliating the wilder party to his re-
storation, and it being hinted to him that he had
best say nothing about an affair in which he had
conducted himself with some share of duplicity,
he was obliged to sit quietly down with the af-
front.
This youthful prince now also found it neces-
sary to close the negotiation with the Scottish
commissioners, which Montrose's enterprise had
for a little time interrupted. He set sail for Scot-
land, upon the hard terms already specified, within
a few days after he had heard of Montrose's death.
VOL. II. Y 8
254, CHARLES II.'s RESIDENCE
The Whig historians have hitherto, almost with-
out contradiction, represented Charles's conduct
in this unmatural alliance as altogether selfish and
treacherous. That a prince, who was already a
secret Catholic, and who entertained arbitrary no-
tions of government, should have assumed the
guise of character, and signed the bonds, required
of him by the Scottish Presbyterians, appears to
the conceptions of those writers an act of exces-
sive atrocity, as regards his character both as a
sovereign and as a man. Yet, without laying any
stress upon the necessity of the times, which jus-
tifies all political actions whatever, it would not
perhaps be difficult to show, that his conduct was
quite consistent with the ordinary morality of
princes and rulers. It cannot, at least, be dis-
puted that the views of his Scottish subjects, and
consequently their whole conduct, were quite as
self-seeking and uncandid as his own. The do-
minant party in Scotland would never have at-
tempted to restore him, would never have troubled
themselves with him at all, if they had not seen
that he was a weapon which could be used with
effect against the English sectaries, or had it not
been at least their opinion that it was better for
them to take him, with a promise to protect and
extend their system of faith, than to submit to
Cromwell, who was sure to exterminate it, root
and branch. Thus, allowing that Charles had
no end in view but the selfish one of restoring
himself by means of the Covenanters, what is
there, after all, so base in his conduct P. The whole
case was simply a league betwixt two powers of
opposite natures, entered into for mutual conve-
nience, and where each, as a matter of course,
made concessions to the other. Nor can Charles
I N SCOTLAN D. 255
be justly charged with afterwards deserting the
cause of the Covenant. He maintained it so long
as it could maintain him ; which was virtually the
end of the treaty. If he subsequently entered
into different relations, and even found it necessary
to proscribe the very bond which he had signed,
he did nothing more than merely bow to a demand
of the time which it must have been fatal for him
to resist.
Accompanied by the Dukes of Buckingham and
Hamilton, the Earls of Cleveland, Brainford, Dum-
fermline, Lauderdale, and Carnwath, the Lords
Wentworth, Widdrington, Wilmot, and Sinclair,
and by various other English and Scottish cava-
liers, Charles set sail for Scotland on the 3d of
June. His little fleet was under great danger,
during the voyage, from the ships of the English
Commonwealth, which had orders to seize him if
possible, and carry him prisoner to London. But
he fortunately escaped every peril, and got safe
into the mouth of the river Spey, after a voyage
of about twenty days. He landed at the little
village of Garmouth, within the embouchure of
the Spey, on the 23d of June, but not till he had
previously, on ship-board, signed the Covenant,
and made solemn professions to the Scottish com-
missioners and clergy who accompanied him, of
his intention to prosecute the ends of that sacred
bond. -
As it was now in some measure become the
policy of the Presbyterian government to encou-
rage a loyal sentiment in the bosoms of the people,
the intelligence of the safe arrival of the king
in Scotland was everywhere received with both
public and private expressions of joy. The news
reached Edinburgh late in the evening of the 26th
256 CHARLES II.’s RESIDENCE
of June ; and immediately, by order of the par-
liament, which was sitting at the moment, the
guns of the castle were fired, bonfires were lighted,
trumpets sounded, and bells rung ; while orders
were sent off to all parts of the kingdom to ob-
serve similar ceremonies. The people, finding
their own humble feelings of loyalty thus counte-
manced, chanted songs of rejoicing through the
streets of the city all might; “and next morning,"
says the simple annalist, Andrew Nichol, “the
pure [guasi dicitur poor] kaill-wyves at the Trone
war sae overjoyed, that they sacrificed their standis
and creillis, yea the verie stoollis they sat on, in
ane fyre.”
Yet, as there was great danger that the presence
of royalty might encourage the fatal error of ma-
lignity, and tend to give the king too much power,
it was soon found necessary to alter this policy.
On the city of Aberdeen, for instance, having pre-
sented fifteen hundred pounds to the king, the
parliament sent an injunction to prevent the other
burghs through which he had to pass, on his way
to the south, from doing any thing of the same
sort." For the same purpose, at St Andrews, one
of their chief men among the clergy, Mr Samuel
Rutherford, told his majesty, in an oration, that if
he did not act in strict conformity to the moderate
system of government laid down in the Covenant,
“actum est de Rege, et re regia”—it was all over
with him and his affairs.”
They soon gave him still more unequivocal hints
of their intention to restrain him. Instead of bring-
ing him to Edinburgh, where his presence might
have had an effect upon the army and upon a large
body of the people, they condemned him to be se-
cluded in the palace of Falkland in Fife; a situa-
IN SCOTLAN D. 257
tion at once convenient as within a day's journey of
the seat of government, and which was such as to
allow no possibility of a large court gathering about
him. They next proceeded to withdraw from his
presence all such persons as they judged likely to
encourage him in notions adverse to their own
views. They banished beyond seas almost all the
English cavaliers who had come over with him.
They obliged the Scottish Engagers, or moderate
cavaliers, to retire to their own homes. The other
malignant noblemen or gentlemen who came for-
ward to congratulate the king on his arrival, they
permitted only to kiss his majesty's hand, and then
to return to their houses or places of banishment.”
The Duke of Buckingham was almost the only
English royalist they would suffer to remain near
the king; a fact the more wonderful, as his grace
happened to be a man of precisely that scandalous
manner of life which they pretended in their acts
to be the cause of their banishing the malignants
from Charles's presence. The truth is that Buck-
ingham, by taking the Covenant, by courting Ar-
gyle, and affecting a great zeal for their cause, had
succeeded in making them believe him necessary
to their interests.” The Engagers would have done
any thing to be permitted to remain; even to the
extent of sitting on the stool of repentance and
submitting to be rebuked by the minister, in the
face of the congregation, for the irreligious degree
of loyalty which they had displayed. But, with
the exception of the Earls of Dunfermline and
Crawford, the former of whom actually sat to be
rebuked in his own seat in the church of Dunferm-
line, none were admitted upon even these hard
terms. To give the reader some idea of the rigour
with which the Presbyterian or Argyle faction pro-


Y 2
258 CHARLES II.'s RESIDENCE
secuted their object, the following anecdote may
be related:
The Earl of Carnwath having one day entered
the Privy-chamber at Falkland, when the Marquis
of Argyle was already there, the marquis taxed
him with presumption for coming into such a place,
when he well knew that by the Act of Classes he
was rendered infamous and incapable of serving the
king. Carmwath, unable to resist, went up to his
majesty, and informed him that, however good
friends they were, it appeared that they must now
part: he only hoped that he would never have any
about him less faithful than himself. As he turned
to leave the room, he said to Argyle, “ This is
your doing; but I value it not.” Then coming
into the Presence-chamber, the earl went up to the
table or cloth of state, by one side of which stood
the Earl of Cassillis, while Sir Archibald Johnston
of Warriston and Sir John Chiesly, two noted wild
men, stood upon the other. But, the incident which
hadjust occurred in the Privy-chamber being alrea-
dy known here, and a resolution having been taken
on the subject, Mr Wood, a clergyman, beckoned
his lordship away to the door. When they were
without, Lord Carnwath said to Wood, “Sir, I hope
God will forgive me; will not you?” on which the
haughty presbyter turned away, without speaking
a word. Carnwath then left the court: and happy
was it for him that he did so ; for Warriston and
Chiesly had already given orders to Sir James Bal-
four, the Lord Lyon, to seize and hang him imme-
diately, unless he should have departed."
The servants and friends thus taken away from
the king were replaced by others of a perfectly or-
thodox complexion. His life-guard was composed
of the sons of the chief Covenanters, and command-
IN SCOTLAND), 259
ed by Lord Lorn, eldestson of the Marquis of Argyle.
No sort of person whatever was permitted to ap-
proach him, unless previously approved by the kirk.
His meanest servants were obliged to show that
they had subscribed the Covenant. It was, how-
ever, upon the clergy, who closely surrounded him,
that the ruling party chiefly depended for the means
of keeping him in check. These persons were
scarcely ever out of his presence. Under the pre-
tence of instructing him in the true religion, they
thrust themselves into his very bedroom.” They
approached him with the ceremonials due to his
nominal rank, uncovered themselves before him,
knelt when they presented any thing to him, and
were to all appearance his devoted slaves; but in
their conversation they took all the freedoms which
they esteemed themselves entitled to, in virtue of
their supposed office of ministers of Christ. If he
played at cards, danced, or even indulged too free-
ly in more innocent modes of relaxation and amuse-
ment, they overwhelmed him with invectives and
rebukes. Every day he was obliged to attend for
several hours to their endless prayers and ser-
mons, both of which alike were generally mothing
more than vituperative orations regarding his own
sins and those of his family. On Sunday, during
which he was not permitted so much as to walk
abroad, he was nauseated with an extraordinary
dose of their discourses; and a still more intoler-
able quantity was administered on what were called
days of humiliation and fast. Burnet relates that,
on a particular fast-day, when he himself was pre-
sent, the unfortunate king had to sit out six long
sermons, which were preached end-long, without
intermission, and which lasted almost from morn-
ing till night." $.
260 CHARLES II.'s RESIDENCE
While he was undergoing this system of penance,
which his tutors esteemed a necessary probation
preparatory to his becoming king, they took care
that he should not possess the least degree of royal
authority. They managed everything themselves,
from the levying of his army down to the appoint-
ment of his menials. It is probable that they
would have treated him with even greater cruelty,
but for the necessity of keeping him in heart, as a
set-off against the Commonwealth of England,
which was now threatening to invade the country,
and which they knew they could never hope to
cope with, unless to a certain degree countenanced
by the king and his friends. -
The men at the head of affairs in England had
watched with great care and anxiety the whole
progress of what a pamphleteer of the time was
pleased to call “ the Intrigues of Jockey with his
young King;” and, as these were decidedly hostile
to their new government, they soon formed a reso-
lution of entering upon active measures against the
Scots. They first published a declaration, showing
that while they had no design to impose their own
mode of government upon Scotland, and only
wished mutual forbearance on that score, the Scots
were evidently inspired with a wish to bring back
the government of both countries to that monar-
chical system which it had cost them so much blood
to extirpate, and which was so decidedly incom-
patible with the civil as well as religious interests
of all good Britons. To prevent the Scots, they
said, from destroying themselves, to prevent them
from breaking their own boasted Covenant, to pre-
vent them from plunging the island from end to
end once more into blood, they declared themselves
obliged to invade them with an army. They ex-
IN SCOTLAN D. 26 1
pressed themselves extremely sorry to be thus in ap-
pearance the first breakers of the Covenant, which
had obliged both mations not to make war upon
each other without three months' warning; but
they took all the world to witness, if the Scots
had not provoked them to it by previously break-
ing that sacred bond in spirit, if not in terms.
Finally, as they professed their expedition to be
one rather of mercy and brotherly kindness, than
of uncompromising hostility, as they were willing
to chastise with the rod, rather than to punish
with the sword, they promised to do no harm to
those who were seduced through weakness, and
who should immediately return to reason.” Ha-
ving, accordingly, mustered an army of sixteen
thousand men, which they thought proper to place
under the command of Cromwell, they were ready
to counteract the policy of their northern brethren
almost as soon as Charles had landed in the coun-
try.
The intelligence of Cromwell's preparations to
invade them occasioned some alarm in Scotland;
an alarm which acquired no small additional force
among the common people, from the reports of the
cruelties which he had just been practising for the
reduction of Ireland. It was, however, determined
by the parliament, that an army of thirty thousand
men should be raised for the defence of the coun-
try. To retard Cromwell's march, all that fertile
country which lies betwixt Berwick and the ca-
pital, was laid waste and deserted by its inhabi-
tants; and the whole force of the kingdom was
gathered to receive him, behind a strong line of
fortificatious which extended from Edinburgh to
Leith. The command of the army was given no-
minally to the venerable Earl of Leven, but was
262 CHARLES II.'s RESIDENCE
in reality enjoyed by his more juvenile and active
namesake David Leslie. -
There was now something extremely piquant
and interesting in the attitudes of the various par-
ties which composed the British public. On one
side we see the Presbyterians, Scottish and Eng-
lish; a large party of men, who, for the sake of
altering pudding for cake, had embroiled their
country in a civil war; who had eventually been
overpowered by the very demons they had conju-
red up to achieve their dreadful purposes; and who
were now seeking, by a coalition with the power
they had originally assailed, to protect themselves
from their revolted servants. On the other side
stands the Sectarian army, formerly the servant
but now the master of the other; a band of intract-
able enthusiasts, pretending to be independent of
all government civil and religious, actuated by the
most extravagant and incalculable views, and
trampling under their armed heels every interest
and privilege of the community; yet, in all their
indomitable wildness, as docile to the hinted will
of one powerful spirit, their favourite and their
leader, as the bridleless steed of Arabia is to the
flexures and inclinations of his master's person.
Aside from the positions of both, are the Cavaliers;
depressed, ruined, and despised; but entertaining
hopes to get their own back, and see their patron
restored, in the event of the other two parties falling
into a quarrel.
It was on the 16th of July, only a fortnight af-
ter the news of Charles's landing had reached Lon-
don, that Cromwell crossed the Tweed with his
army, for the purpose of reducing this kingdom,
hitherto unconquered, to the will of the English
Commonwealth. As his men left the liberties of
IN SCOTLAN D. 263
Berwick, and for the first time trode Scottish
ground, they uttered a vehement shout, to express
the enthusiasm with which they entered on a cam-
paign, calculated, as they expressed it, to extend
the reign of the saints on earth." It was soon dis-
covered, however, that this would not be so easy
a matter as had been at first anticipated.
The desolation of the country was a most seri-
ous obstacle to the progress of the saints. Not
only was the ground destitute, to use the language
of the time, of every thing in the shape of leaf and
ear, root and branch," but the very people had
retired out of sight. In recollection, perhaps, of
the former practices of the mation in cases of in-
vasion from England, the Scottish Estates had re-
solved upon a desultory system of warfare, by
which the enemy might be gradually weakened
and intimidated, without ever coming to a serious
engagement. The English, therefore, as they ad-
vanced into Berwickshire, saw no Scotsmen ca-
pable of bearing arms, except such as suddenly
appeared around them in small parties, for the pur-
'pose of cutting off their stragglers and intercept-
ing their supplies of provisions. This was in
strict obedience to the orders of government, by
which persons of every rank and condition were
forbidden, under pain of death, to approach the ac-
cursed army of Sectaries, for the purpose of assist-
ing them. The better to enforce this order, the
ministers had taken care to inspire the lower orders
with a salutary feeling of horror and fear for the in-
vaders. They told them, and Cromwell's late pro-
ceedings in Ireland almost justified the assertion,
that it was the intention of the English to kill, or
at least to cut off the right hands of all Scotsmen
capable of bearing arms, and to burn with hot
264. CHARLES II.'s RESIDENCE
irons the breasts of all women capable of bearing
children. Accordingly, at all the little towns
which he successively passed through, he found
scarcely a single male person betwixt the ages of
six and sixty, and no women except such as were
exempt by age from the fate with which he was
supposed to have threatened them. The few
wretched creatures that remained, old men and
women, bed-rid persons and children, met him
on their knees, with supplications that he would
spare their lives. In the whole course of his
march from Berwick to Edinburgh, he did not see
ten men.” He published manifestoes as he went
along, calling upon the people to return to their
homes, and assuring them that he designed them
mo harm ; but these had not time to operate before
the occasion was past. Accordingly, as it was not
always possible to draw provisions from the ships
which glided along the coast in attendance upon his
motions, and as there was nowhere any good lodging
to be obtained, his men soon began to exclaim that
Captain Cold and Captain Hunger formed an ene-
my more dreadful than that which they had been
led to expect, or which they had undertaken to
cope with.” During the last six days of his march,
his men were actually reduced to the necessity, so
peculiarly grievous to Englishmen, of feeding on
bread and water.”
On arriving at Musselburgh, six miles from the
capital, Cromwell established his magazine and
head-quarters at the mansion-house of Stoney-hill,
and led forward a party to view the works of the
enemy. On the same day, July 29, King Charles
was brought down by his tutors from Stirling to
Leith, and permitted to salute the army. Nearly
forty thousand men, it is said, had collected on
IN SCOTLAND. 265
the Links of Leith, to defend their king and reli-
gion from the attacks of Cromwell. Among them
were many Englishmen, both of the Presbyterian
and cavalier factions, who identified their interests
on this occasion with those of the Scottish Es-
tates. Yet all this enthusiasm was destined to be
in vain. The ruling party, afraid to admit any
other interest than their own into this grand enter-
prise, subjected the immense force collected to a
purgation, as they called it; by which, as no man
could be accepted who was not a thorough adhe-
rent of the Presbyterian Church of Scotland, many
thousands of the bravest and best of the army were
forced to retire. At the very moment when King
Charles came up to salute them on the Links of
Leith, the army was undergoing this unhappy
process, and he had the mortification to see his very
best friends turned away from his service before
his face. The forces which remained, instead of
being called the king's army, as was customary
in former times, and as is customary at the pre-
sent day, were invested with the anomalous title
of the kirk army. If we are to believe Father
Hay and other Tory historians, there were mome
left, after the purgation, but knaves and cowards;”
but the purgers, at the time, gave a very different
account of the matter. It was better, they said,
to fight their enemies with a handful of elect and
godly people, than with mighty arms loaden with
sin, which, like Acan's wedge, would surely be the
cause of their destruction.” With this little army
of saints, they assured the people that they did not
entertain the least doubt of gaining a victory over
the accursed sectaries. If God did not enable them
to do so, and failed to espouse the cause of his
own people against his own enemies, some of them
VOL. II, Ž
266 CHARLES II.'s RESIDENCE
did not scruple to declare he should no longer be
their God. -
Alas, it was soon found that mere religious
fervour, if unsupported by some share of worldly
courage and experience, will do little in military
affairs. On Cromwell's advancing to Restalrig, a
place about half a mile from the Scottish trenches,
a party was sent out to skirmish with him, under
the command of Sir James Halket. A rencontre
took place, which was witnessed by the king from
the battlements of Edinburgh Castle; but the Scots
could stand no time against the well-disciplined
soldiers of Cromwell. He beat them back with
great slaughter to their leaguer, which he would
perhaps have entered sword in hand after them, had
he not been checked by a flank fire from the forti-
fications of Leith. On his retiring that evening to
Musselburgh, which he only did in consequence of
the inclemency of the weather, another, and a
stronger party, under the command of Colonel
Montgomery, son to the Earl of Eglintoune, made
an insidious circuit of nearly thirty miles, and fell
upon his flank, just as he had joined his main body
at Musselburgh. But the English, incensed be-
yond measure at the orders which they heard given
forth by their assailants, that they should give the
accursed Sectaries no quarter, repelled the assault
with an extraordinary degree of spirit; killed near-
ly a hundred of the Scots; took an immense num-
ber prisoners, and drove back the rest in disgrace
to Edinburgh.” At this skirmish, it is a somewhat
remarkable fact, the English discovered that there
were English cavaliers mingled with the Scottish
puritans, by hearing several of them, as they fell,
uttering the characteristic phrase, “God damn
me.” One of them, as he expired, was heard to
I N SCOTLAN D. 267
mutter, “Damn me, I'll go to my king.” It
would thus appear that, at this particular period,
the purgation just described had not been altoge-
ther completed. Cromwell, next day, to testify
his real good-will to the Scots, and endeavour to
gain upon their affections, sent all the wounded
back to Edinburgh in carts, and was even so kind
to one particular person of distinction, who had
been sorely hurt, as to transport him to the camp
in his own carriage.
The Scottish estates and kirk boasted in their
public documents, of having done immense execu-
tion upon the enemy, in both these rencontres ;
but the feeling of the people was, that they had re-
ceived more mischief by them than they had occa-
sioned to Cromwell. There even seems to have
been a depression of spirit in the Scottish army, in
consequence of their losses. Balfour informs us,
that one nobleman, whom he delicately calls the
Earl of W, was so much affected next morning,
that, on being summoned to march out with a
party, he sent a message back to the lieutenant-
general, to the effect that “ he could not goe out
upone service till he had his breakefaste.” “The
breakefaste,” continues the annalist, “ was, foure
hours in getting, untill the lieutenant-general, being
previly advertised by a secrett friend, that my lord
was peaceably minded that morning, sent him ex-
press orders not to marche, to save his reputation.
On this, the gallants of the army raised a proverbe,
that “they would not goe out on a partey untill
they got their breakefaste.’”
The want of provisions, and the impossibility of
landing them at Musselburgh, obliged Cromwell,
soon after this, to retire to Dunbar, where some
vessels, sent by the English parliament, were wait-
268 CHARLES II.'s RESIDENCE
ing to land their stores. As soon as his back was
turned, the ministers of Edinburgh gave God
thanks “for sending the Sectarian army back the
way they came, and flinging such a terror into
their hearts, as made them fly when none pur-
sued.” Cromwell, however, stayed only to land his
provisions, before he was again on the march back
to Edinburgh ; which caused the Scottish clergy,
says Whitelocke, to be somewhat ashamed of their
premature thanksgiving. Before he returned to
Musselburgh, General Leslie had issued an order,
“ that the gude women of that town (for such are
the terms in which it is reported by Whitelocke)
should aw come away wi' their gear, and not stay
to bake or brew for the English army, on pain of
death;” and thus, continues the memorialist, Crom-
well found the town even more forlorn than when
he first visited it. The Scottish Estates were still
persisting in their cruel policy of desolating the
country, as the best means of getting the better of
their invaders. The author just quoted, records,
as a dreadful instance of the misery to which the
natives were thus reduced, that, at Cromwell's re-
turn to Dunbar for provisions, he found the inha-
bitants so much in want of food, as to pick up the
beans from before the horses of his troopers, and
eat the intestines of the sheep which they killed.”
When his men had been thoroughly refreshed
with their provisions, and, at the same time, duly
animated by two days of continued exhortations
and prayer, he drew them along to the westward
of Edinburgh, with the view of attacking the Scot-
tish army in rear, and thereby provoking it to an
engagement. He pitched his camp near Colin-
ton, a village about three miles to the south-west
of the city; on which the Scots drew out, and
IN SCOTLAND, 269
faced him at Corstorphine. It was not, however,
in the power of either army to attack the other in
this place, as the ground which lay between them
was boggy, and unfit for the evolutions of horse.
Cromwell, therefore, lay for some days overlook-
ing the city, until at length, his provisions being
exhausted, he was forced to retire to Musselburgh,
where he had established his stores, and where he
had a number of mills continually at work. While
making this retrograde march, it is acknowledged
by the historians of both armies, that the Scots
might have had him at a great disadvantage, by
falling upon his flank and rear, which they might
have easily dome. Cromwell, however, with his
usual sagacity, had taken care to select a Sunday
for his march, a day on which he knew that the
Scots, like the Jews of old, would not fight upon
any account, except in self-defence.
He returned next day to his former position, and
a few days more elapsed without any transaction
of importance. In the meantime, the all-ruling
Presbyterians endeavoured to obtain new conces-
sions from the king. To vindicate themselves from
the imputations thrown upon them by Cromwell,
which taxed them with espousing the cause of ma-
lignity, they pressed his majesty to sign a declara-
tion, in which he should abjure all the former max-
ims and principles of his family, express his ab-
horrence of the conduct of his father, and of the
religion of his mother, and promise henceforth to
govern expressly in accordance with the moderate
principles laid down in the Covenant, and with the
interests of the Presbyterian church. Charles, for
some time, refused to dishonour the names of his
parents, and compromise his own politics, by sign-
ing such a declaration ; but he was at length in-
7, 2
270 CHARLES II.'s RESIDENCE
duced to do it by the violence with which his go-
vernors conducted themselves on his refusal.
Fortified by this charter, which was called “The
Dunfermline Declaration,” on account of its having
been constructed at that town, the Scots felt re-
newed confidence in the strength of their cause
against the Sectaries. It was now with some dif-
ficulty, that General Leslie could prevent them
from rushing directly against the enemy. A ren-
contre actually did take place in the neighbour-
hood of Corstorphine. Cromwell, finding himself
every day grow weaker, and foreseeing that he
could not remain another week in the country
without a victory, led out a forlorn party against
the advanced guard of the Scots, whom he hoped
by this means to provoke to a general engagement.
The Scots had the prudence to retire without fight-
ing, though rather in obedience to the command
of General Leslie, than the wishes of the clergy.
Cromwell was so eager on this occasion, that he
rode a good way in advance of his men, so as to
tempt a Scottish dragoon, who knew his person,
from having formerly fought with him in England,
to turn about in his flight, take a deliberate aim,
and endeavour to bring down the arch-enemy of
the Covenant. The ball did not take effect; and
Cromwell was so little affected by his danger, as
to halloo after the retreating soldier, that “if he
had been one of his men, he would have cashiered
him for firing at such a distance.”
At length, the situation of the English general
became truly distressing. A malady, which an his-
torian of the time” calls “ the Country Disease,”
had got into his camp, and affected a great portion
of his army. His men were also beginning to
murmur loudly regarding the cold of the Scottish
IN SCOTLAN D. 27. I
climate; a grievance which they felt peculiarly
during the night, exposed as they were on the
bleak slopes of the Pentland Hills, to the eastern
sea-blasts, which were at that period of the year
perpetually assailing them. In the impossibility
of fighting the Scottish army, Cromwell sent a
message to its leaders, proposing to depart from
their country, bag and baggage, and leave them to
govern themselves as they pleased, provided they
would engage not to press him in his retreat. But
that only inspired them with the greater confidence
against him. They immediately sent out a party
towards Musselburgh, with the view of intercept-
ing his provisions, and thereby reducing him to
the point of capitulation. It was only by a counter-
movement of his own, which he executed during a
very tempestuous night, that he was able to save
himself. He drew the whole of his army, between
night and morning, down to Musselburgh, where
his ships were lying, and at day-break astonished
the enemy, by showing himself in the very place
where they least expected him. He now saw it was
time to take some desperate measure for his own
relief. It was impossible to remain at Mussel-
burgh, because he could not there fortify himself,
so as to hold out against the enemy for any length
of time. The only other place between Mussel-
burgh and Berwick, where it was possible to com-
municate with his ships, was Dunbar; and that
was, moreover, the only seaport on the same range
of coast, which admitted of fortification. He
therefore determined to withdraw himself to this
little maritime burgh, and there endeavour to en-
trench himself till he should be relieved from Eng-
land.
It was on Saturday the 81st of August, that
272 CHARLES II.'s RESIDENCE
he commenced this memorable retreat. That night,
before the main part of his troops had reached
Haddington, the Scottish army, which had imme-
diately come out in pursuit, fell upon his rear of
horse, and drove it up to the rear-guard of foot.
But a cloud, which, as he himself remarks in a let-
ter, providentially came over the moon at that mo-
ment, prevented any farther mischief. He quarter-
ed in Haddington for the night, and next morning
drew out on a field to the south, and offered battle
to the enemy. After bravading them for a few
hours, without provoking an attack, he resumed his
march, and in the evening came to Dunbar, where
he immediately began to entrench himself. The
Scots followed, but not exactly in a direct line.
Drawing off to the south, they swept along the
slopes of the Lammermuir Hills, with the view of
intercepting his retreat to Berwick. Before the
evening, they encamped on the Doon Hill, an emi-
mence of four or five hundred feet, about two miles
to the south of his position ; and they also took
care to possess themselves of a pass of peculiar
importance, called the Peaths, by which lay the
only road from Dunbar to Berwick.
To give the reader a more distinct idea of the
relative positions of the two armies, it may be men-
tioned, that the town of Dunbar, where Cromwell
was quartered, lies at the eastern extremity of a
tract of level country, extending along the south
shore of the frith of Forth; having the sea on one
side, the level country on the other, the Lammer-
muir Hills on a third, and on the fourth, a strip
of low country, along which proceeds the road to
Berwick. When the Scottish army lay on Doon
Hill, which is the last of the Lammermuir range
in that direction, they had Cromwell fairly between
IN SCOTLAN D. 273
them and the sea, and it was impossible for him to
attempt an escape by the low country on either
hand, without the risk of being fallen upon and de-
stroyed, before he reached a position of security,
or could find room to turn himself. To use a phrase
of his enemies, he was completely weired, or pent,
into a corner; and his only hope lay in his being
able to fortify himself in his position, so as to stand
at bay till relieved.
The only question which then remained for con-
sideration in the Scottish army, was, what they
should do with the enemy;-whether fall upon him
and destroy him by the sword, or permit him to
languish in the town, till he should deliver himself
up into their hands. The clergy, who attended
the camp in great numbers, with arms in their
hands, and composed an influential portion of the
committee by which the army was managed, call-
ed out in the fervour of their enthusiasm, that they
should lose no time to give the coup de grace to the
accursed army of the Sectaries; and they were
countenanced in their opinion by Warriston, who
was, perhaps, the most influential layman in the
council.” Leslie, on the other hand, along with
his officers, contended that, by lying where they
were, all was sure; but that there was great hazard
in attacking a band of gallant men under such des-
perate circumstances. It was the opinion of this
general, indeed, that rather than press too severe-
ly upon the enemy, and provoke him to a struggle
for life or liberty, it would be better to make way
for him, “even with a bridge of gold,” and permit
his free departure into England.” It was proposed
in the council, that they should offer him permis-
sion to return to his own country, on the condition
of leaving only his ordnance and ammunition.” The
274, CHARLES II.'s RESIDENCE
impetuosity of the clergy, however, was destined
to prevail, and before the evening of Monday, the
2d of September, it was determined that the Scot-
tish army should draw down from the hill where
it was placed, and lie in readiness to attack the
enemy early next morning. º
Cromwell spent this day in a state of mind whicl
it would have been difficult even for himself to de-
scribe. At no point or period of his career had he
ever been so near losing the whole advantages
which his ambition had gained for him, over his
fellow men. His prospects, in whatever direction
he turned himself, were of the gloomiest order.
Should he remain at Dunbar, even supposing that
he could hold out the town against the Scots, his
enemies in England would be sure to give him up
for lost, and, taking advantage of his helpless cir-
cumstances, would again setup either the Cavalier
or the Presbyterian interest; so that, should he
eventually break through his present hedge of foes,
and return to England, he would, in all probabili-
ty, find the whole power of the country serried
against him. Should he break through the Scots,
even with his present force, he was sure to be call-
ed to a dreadful reckoning by his enemies, for the
evil issue of his expedition. In case of the Scots
overpowering and taking him captive, he was, of
course, a lost man for ever : the Presbyterian inte-
rest, in that case, would once more assume an as-
cendency, and Charles the Second would be re-
stored, with a limited prerogative, to the splendid
seat which he had aimed at filling.
Such, nevertheless, was the ardent genius of
Cromwell, that it does not appear he ever alto-
gether despaired, during this dreadful day. He
had shipped off all his sick men at Dunbar, and re-
IN SCOTLAND. 275
duced his army to about twelve thousand. He was
holding himself in readiness to put the remainder
of his foot on board his transports, and to seize
some opportunity of dashing, with his invincible
bands of horse, through the lines of the enemy.
Some lucky moment, he flattered himself, some
especial act of providence, would still occur, to
enable him to escape the snare that was set for him.
“We were sensible,” he afterwards declared, “ of
our disadvantages, and experienced some weakness
of flesh. Because of their numbers, because of
their advantages, because of their confidence, be-
cause of our weakness, because of our strait, we
knew we were in the mount; yet, having support
from the Lord himself, for our poor weak faith, we
trusted that, in the mount, the Lord would be seen
to find out a way of deliverance and salvation forus.
We still had our consolations and our hopes.”
After spending an anxious forenoon in shipping
off his sick, and in revolving all the possibilities of
his situation, he called his principal officers toge-
ther, and issued instructions to the army, that the
whole should “seek the Lord ;” meaning that, by
a direct and simultaneous appeal to the Almighty,
they should endeavour to discover his intentions
regarding their fate. When their religious exer-
cises had been concluded, he rose up, assumed his
wonted serenity of manner and countenance, and,
informing those about him, that he had felt a pe.
culiar satisfaction and enlargement of heart during
his prayer, bade “them all take heart, for God had
certainlyheard them, and would appear for them.”
It was at the Earl of Roxburghe's house of Brox-
mouth, about a mile to the east of Dunbar, that be
made this declaration. Immediately afterwards,
6.
276 CHARLES II.'s RESIDENCE
taking a walk in the gardens round the house, in
order to obtain a last survey of the enemy for the
evening,” he distinctly perceived them, through his
perspective glass, begin their fatal movement down
the face of the hill, with the view, as he rightly an-
ticipated, of giving him battle in the morning. Al-
most beside himself with joy, he exclaimed, in the
accents of a sorcerer who for the first time sees
his incantations attended with effect: “The Lord
hath delivered them into our hands ! they are co-
ming down to us !”
It was even as Cromwell supposed. Overcome
by the foolish enthusiasm of the clergy, Leslie was
now drawing down his troops from their masterly
position on Doon Hill, towards a sloping piece of
ground to the south-east of the English camp.
They were busied all night in making the descent;
and it was found, at the first blush of dawn on
Tuesday morning, that, while their lines extended
upwards of a mile along the whole front of the
enemy, they had clustered in great numbers at their
right wing, apparently in the apprehension that
Cromwell might assail that point, for the purpose
of forcing a way to England. The Scottish lead-
ers had not taken it into account that their men,
by reason of their constant motion during the
might, were prevented from enjoying that repose
which is so necessary for soldiers before action;
nor had they taken care, in their confidence of su-
perior strength, to preserve their matches from
the rain which fell upon them as they were de-
scending the hill. Cromwell's men were, on the
other hand, inspirited by the acceptance which they
were persuaded their prayers had met with ; they
were refreshed by a night of secure and comfort-
5
1.N SCOTLAND. 277
able sleep in their quarters; and they had, at the par-
ticular request of Cromwell, taken the utmost care
of their matches; which last was a circumstance of
primary importance in the military tactics of that age.
The numbers of the Scots in the action about
to ensue, were nearly twenty-seven thousand.
The English did not amount to twelve thousand.
The word of the day in the Scottish army was their
favourite one, “The Covenant.” The parole of
the English army was “The Lord of Hosts.” The
signal of distinction for the English soldiers, was
“ that they were to have no white about them.”
During the night, Cromwell had resolved to at-
tack the right wing of the Scots, which intervened
between him and his own country; and both the
point of attack and the arrangements which he
made for it, show that he only aimed at an escape
from Scotland. He appointed six regiments of
horse, and three regiments and a half of foot, to go
to the front, under the charge of Lambert, Monk,
and other experienced officers; while the brigades
of Pride and Overton, and the remaining two regi-
ments of horse, should bring up the cannon and the
l'éâT.
The attack took place between five and six in
the morning, ere the sun had yet risen to dispel
the thick, cold mists, which usually encumber the
low grounds in Scotland during the nights of Sep-
tember. The light as yet only served to give to
the English troops a few imperfect glimpses of the
dark and long-extended lines of the enemy, as they
stretched away, in indefinite masses, through the
mist, which was now breaking up from the low
ground, under the advancing influence of morn.
The Scots were still moving down the hill; and
they had not been put into proper order when the
WOL, II, 2 A
278 CHARLES II.'s RESIDENCE
attack was made. The action commenced at the
very eastern extremity of the Scottish lines, where
Leslie, as already mentioned, had placed most of
his horse, in the apprehension that that would be
the point to which Cromwell would direct his
chief strength.
For half an hour, the battle was merely an ob-
scure struggle between the horse at the Scottish
right flank, and Cromwell's six dragoon regiments,
for the possession of a pass. At length, however,
as Cromwell's other troops came up, and gradu-
ally began to engage the Scottish regiments op-
posed to them, the fight became more general and
extended. The Scottish horsemen, who bore the
long lances peculiar to their country,” and after-
wards took to their swords, fought with great re-
solution; and there were on that side two regi-
ments of foot, which stood their ground against
the enemy's horse till they were almost all cut to
pieces in their ranks.” But, as the nature of the
ground did not permit other regiments to come up
to their relief, and as the enemy, though less nu-
merous on the whole, had more men actually en-
gaged, it was soon seen that the fight was not
equal. Cromwell, though more than once beat
back, returned and returned to the charge, with
that persevering solicitation of fortune, which is
observed to be so invariably successful in the end.
His men, conscious that every thing depended on
their own exertions, seconded his wishes, as if
they had been part of himself. At length, when
the crisis of the contention seemed just on the
point of arriving, this wonderful man turned it in
his own favour, by one of those strokes of genius
which distinguished him so peculiarly as a gene-
ral, and as a leader of his fellow-men. The sun
IN SCOTLAN D. 279
happening at the lucky moment to rise full and
broad out of the sea behind him, he exclaimed,
with a poet's feeling, as he observed its rays for
the first time dazzle the eyes of the enemy, “Now,
now let God arise, and his enemies shall be scat-
tered ſ”* An exclamation so appropriate to the
excitement of the occasion, and which expressed
so strong a conviction on his own part of the pre-
sence and favour of the God of Battles, had an in-
stantaneous effect upon his men. Fully inspired
with the idea that the Deity had, both on the pre-
ceding evening, and at this moment, spoken his
favour through their general, they fell upon the
enemy with an impetuosity which nothing could
withstand. The Scottish regiments, from that
moment, to use another emphatic phrase of Crom-
well, became as stubble to their swords.
A flight then ensued, ten times more disastrous
to the Scots than the battle could possibly have
been, though they had continued to fight till sun-
set. The horse regiments, as they turned to fly
from the face of the enemy, broke and routed the
foot regiments which stood behind them. Once
effectually disordered, it was impossible to turn
these men, however fresh, to the least account.
It was in vain that their ministers stood amongst
them, assuring them of victory, and imploring
them to continue fighting. Struck with despair at
the moment they saw the horse give way, they
immediately threw away their arms, and fled from
the field. The sun, at his rising, had shone full in
the faces of seven and twenty thousand confident
men, who, in their unity of purpose and splendour of
array, formed an object, so to speak, of the most
terrible respectability. Three minutes afterwards,
his long level rays fell upon the backs of a con-
280 CHARLES II.'s RESIDENCE
fused and dismayed rabble, which had in a mo-
ment renounced its late noble character and power,
and become a thing the most helpless and con-
temptible that could be conceived. It almost ap-
peared to the eyes of their enemies, that the sun,
or the divinity which he might be supposed to re-
present, had obeyed the daring appeal of Crom-
well, and occasioned the sudden and miraculous
change which they now saw before them.
In the flight which ensued, the English dragoons,
to use the cruel language of Cromwell's own dis-
patches, had the eaecution and killing of the Scot-
tish foot for nearly fourteen miles. Whatever.
feelings of rancour the English had previously en-
tertained for the Scots, whether on the abstract
score of their religious differences, or on the more
immediate and exciting account of the taunts with
which the Scots had treated them in their late
day of distress,” were now amply revenged upon
the unhappy soldiers of the Covenant; three thou-
sand of whom, at a moderate calculation, were
soon stretched lifeless upon the harvest fields in
the direction of Edinburgh, while at least ten thou-
sand wounded and dejected wretches remained
prisoners on the field of battle. An extraordinary
degree of virulence seems, indeed, to have charac-
terised this terrible chase. In the words of Cla-
rendon, “no quarter was given till the pursuers
were weary of killing.” Peculiar severity was ex-
ercised upon the clergymen who composed so pro-
minent a body in the Scottish army. Many of
them were cut down while in the very act of
bawling out assurances of victory to their soldiers;
others were designedly slashed by the Sectarian
dragoons in the face, with the view of disfiguring
them,
IN SCOTLAN D. 281
The people resident on the tract of country
over which the chase extended, have many tradi-
tionary anecdotes, to show the persevering ran-
cour with which the English dragoons pursued their
bloody work. One of them is of so striking and
affecting a nature, as to be perhaps worthy of re-
lation. The Laird of Lawhouses, a small estate
about seven miles westward from Dunbar, was at
the battle, perhaps as much from affection to the
royal cause as to that of the Covenant. He fledacross
the Tyne, towards his own house, and he had just
reached that place, which he calculated would
be one of refuge, and was on the point of enter-
ing its open door-way, when a dragoon who had
followed hard behind him, alighted from his horse,
and, steadying his carabine along the trunk of a
large tree, which is still pointed out, shot the un-
fortunate gentleman dead upon his own threshold.
Many other men of distinction fell on this
dreadful day; in particular, Winram, Laird of
Libberton, one of the Committee of Estates, and
a gentleman who had figured more or less promi-
nently in all the transactions of the last twelve
years; Sir Robert Scott, Sir William Douglas of
Kirkness,” and Sir John Haldane of Gleneagles.
Two generations of the ancient family of Home
of Wedderburn were killed together; that is to say,
both the Laird and the Young Laird, (his son,)
one of whom was a colonel and the other a lieu-
tenant-colonel. There were in all eight colonels
killed, being the fourth part of the whole number
of colonels present.
Among the ten thousand prisoners taken by
Cromwell, were twelve lieutenant-colonels, six
majors, thirty-seven captains, seventy-five lieute-
2 A 2
282 cHARLES II.'s RESIDENCE
mants, seventeen cornets, two quarter-masters, a
hundred and ten ensigns, and fifteen sergeants. He
also took two hundred stands of colours, and thir-
ty-two pieces of ordnance, together with all their
arms, ammunition, tents, and baggage. In oppo-
sition to the enormous loss of the Scottish army,
Cromwell had only about thirty men killed.
The first of Cromwell's actions after the battle,
was to call his men together on the field, and
return public thanks to the Almighty for so glo-
rious an instance of his favour. His next care
was to provide for the relief of the wounded, and
the disposal of the prisoners. Not only did he
set all his surgeons to work upon the former, but
he permitted their relations to come to the field,
with carts, and transport them away to their own
homes. Being encumbered with the number of
his prisoners, he sent a thousand of such as were
wounded, in a compliment, to the Countess of
Winton, to be disposed of as she might think pro-
per; and he released four thousand more, chiefly
Qld men and boys, upon their parole. The rest
be sent under a guard into England; whither
they went, says Whitelocke, “cursing their king
and clergy for ensnaring them in misery.” A great
portion of these unhappy persons afterwards fell
victims to a disease which attacked them at Dur-
ham, in consequence of eating too freely of raw
cabbage. The rest were sold by the English par-
liament, as slaves, and sent to Barbadoes.
Cromwell spent the next day at Dunbar, in
writing letters to the House of Commons, and to
his own relations,” regarding his victory. The
parliament was so much overjoyed at the intelli-
gence, as to return him a public vote of thanks,
and to order that all the colours he had taken
IN SCOTLAND. 2S3
might be hung up beside those taken two years
before at Preston, in Westminster Hall. They
also ordered medals, with suitable devices, to be
distributed among the common soldiers, in token
of their approbation and gratitude.
284, CON CLUSION.
CHAPTER XIII.
CONCLUSION,
—“ Grievous has the expiation been.”
HOME.
THE wreck of the Scottish army, which, as
might be supposed, chiefly consisted of horse, fell
back upon Stirling, without attempting to defend
Edinburgh, which Cromwell therefore obtained
possession of, without striking another blow. Mil-
ton, in a panegyric which he wrote upon the re-
publican general, says, that the fame of his victory
at Dunbar, did more for him than the victory it-
self, as thunder is attended with more fatal effect,
in the terror which it produces, than what is even
experienced from the vivid and immediate light-
ning." A week, indeed, had not elapsed after
“the Tyesday's chase”—for so the battle was call-
ed by the Scots—before he had made himself
master of all that valuable part of Scotland which
lies to the east and south of Falkirk, including
Leith and the capital, and only excepting Edin-
burgh castle.
Severe, however, as the blow might be consider-
ed to the country, it was by no means a matter of
universal lament in Scotland. The destroyed army
had consisted almost exclusively of the rigid Pres-
CON CLUSION, 285
byterians, who proposed to admit Charles to his
government with the heavy restrictions, civil and
ecclesiastical, which have been described. By their
destruction, so long as the Engagers and loyalists
remained, Charles was rather relieved from thral-
dom than deprived of support. Accordingly, both
he and the loyalists secretly rejoiced in the affair.
They rightly anticipated, that, to defend the coun-
try from Cromwell, and to push the Royal and the
Covenant interests, recourse must be had to them.
By that means, he and his friends would naturally
become possessed of the chief power of the country;
and, in the event of a triumph over Cromwell,
would be able to mould the proposed reformation
of the British monarchy to their own will.
Cromwell would have pushed his conquest to
Stirling, and expelled the members of government
who resided there; but he was prevented by the
weather, and by the strength of their position. He
had to content himself, during what remained of
the season, with laying siege to Edinburgh castle.
Here, a most amusing affair took place. The mini-
sters of the district had, after the battle of Dunbar,
taken refuge in this castle. Cromwell, with a ge-
nerous and liberal wish to provide for the instruc-
tion of the people, sent up a simple note to the
Governor, engaging to protect his clerical guests,
provided that they would come out and resume
their ordinary duties. They returned a wordy
answer, through the Governor, professing a non-
reliance upon his promise, and farther treating him
and his religious party with much abusive lan-
guage. Cromwell received this letter with all the
surprise which men generally feel, when an in-
tended act of kindness is anticipated by a rude re-
fusal. It was the policy, however, of his consti-
286 CON CLUSION.
tuents, and it seems to have been consistent with
his own wishes, to endeavour by all possible
means to conciliate and reduce the unreason-
able spirit which had now got into the Scottish
Presbyterians; and he thought proper, in a reply
at greater length, which he wrote with his own
hand, to argue the point with them, and renew his
proffer. A controversy then took place between
the two parties, which scarcely any person now
living could read without a feeling of admiration
for the fair and straight-forward good sense of
Cromwell, and of pity for the mean and crooked
arguments of his adversaries. But the most re-
markable point about the whole affair, was the at-
tempt which each party made to convince the other,
that it was “the favoured of the Lord"—the Israel
of modern times. Cromwell, with a spirit of ma-
licious waggery, asked them whether the Lord had
not declared against them, by the issue which he
had seen fit to give to the late battle. They answer-
ed by pretending that that was only a trial of their
faith : the Lord, they said, had thought proper to
hide his face from the sons of Jacob for a time.
Cromwell, however, reminded them of some ex-
pressions they had used before the battle, by which
it appeared, that they were prepared to consider a
victory on their part, as an unequivocal indication
of Almighty favour; and he demanded, with great
reason, that they should now esteem their defeat
as a proof of the reverse. A regular appeal had
been made by the two contending parties to the
Almighty, for the purpose of discovering which he
was inclined to approve ; and he, by granting vic-
tory to the Independents, had fairly given the
world to understand, that they were henceforth
his chosen people.
CONCLUSION, 287
To say the truth, these unhappy enthusiasts
were wonderfully puzzled to account for their late
misfortune. Some of them, in their pulpits, did not
scruple to inform the divinity whom they thought
they worshipped, that it was little to them to lose
their lives and estates; but they really could not
conceive how he permitted himself to lose so much,
by the destruction of “his elect and chosen flock.”
At last, after a good deal of beating about for
reasons, they found an excellent one in the sins of
the king ; and him, of course, they immediately
made a scape-goat, for the vindication of his whole
people. At a fast which they held throughout
those parts of the kingdom still in their power,
they unscrupulously ascribed their defeat to the in-
dignation of the Deity, at their complying with
one who, in addition to his other sins, and those
of his relations, dead and alive, had been led into
the Covenanted work, not by real good-will or
godliness, but by mere lust for an earthly crown.
One of the most infuriate of the sect—Mr Guthry
of Stirling—openly asserted from the pulpit, that,
“even although the king's own heart were as up-
right as that of King David, God would no more
pardon the sins of his father's house for his sake,
than he did the sins of the house of Judah, on ac-
count of the goodness of the holy Josiah.” It is,
indeed, insinuated by an English gentleman who
attended the court at this period,” that, if these
men had now got their will, they would willingly
have surrendered the king to Cromwell, as “ the
cursed thing that troubled the peace of Israel.” It
is at least a certain fact, that the party now began to
have aleaning towards theinvader; finding, it would
appear, greater affinity in his political and religious
views to their own, than they found in those which
288 CON CLUSION.
the king was beginning to manifest. When the
question was agitated in the Committee of Estates
at Stirling, whether the Royalists should now be
admitted to the army, Sir John Chiesly, an en-
thusiast of the deepest dye, started from his seat,
clapped his hand upon his sword, and, protesting
that he would rather join with Cromwell than
with them, left the house in a transport of indig-
mation.
It was now, however, seen by the sensible part
of the nation, that the country could be no longer
defended upon the narrow principles of these un-
worldly zealots. There was also reason to appre-
hend that, if the malignants were not presently ad-
mitted, they would seize the power which the ri-
gid party withheld. Since the destruction of the
sacred army at Dunbar, the malignants had become
decidedly the strongest party in the kingdom ; and
it almost appeared that, in order to secure the go-
vernment, they only required to make a motion to-
wards its seat and its symbols.
Charles precipitated the conclusion by a singular
personal enterprise, which is known in Scottish
history by the epithet of “the Start.” In conse-
quence of an arrangement with some of the north-
ern cavaliers, he left Perth on the 4th of October,
without a single attendant, and riding with great
speed, reached an appointed place of rendezvous
in the braes of Angus, early next day. There he
was disappointed to find that, owing to a mistake
as to the day, none of his friends were assembled.
He spent the night in a wretched hut, attended by
only a few Highlanders, and next morning he was
overtaken by a troop of the Covenanting horse, the
leader of which solicited him to return. He con-
sented to do so, and he arrived at Perth on the Se-
CONCLUSION. 289
cond evening after he had left it. The insurrec-
tion contemplated by the loyalists was thus pre-
vented ; but the Presbyterians were, nevertheless,
impressed with so strong a notion of their danger,
that they saw fit, at once to admit him to their
councils, and the cavaliers into their army; only
requiring a subscription of the Covenant as a qua-
lification. For the same reason, they caused him
to be crowned at Scone, January 1, 1651 ; before
which period, Cromwell had succeeded in reducing
Edinburgh castle.
This revolution, so favourable to the king, was
achieved by what would now be called a mode-
rate party of the church, and was bitterly, though
ineffectually, opposed by one of a more infuriate
character. The former party, on account of their
having, in technical language, resolved upon the
measure, were termed Resolutioners ; the latter,
from their protesting against it, were called Pro-
testers ; and these two names, for many years, dis-
tinguished the opposite religious interests of the
kingdom. The protesters fairly seceded from any
concern in public affairs. They endeavoured to
erect themselves into a distinct army, under Stra-
chan, the officer who overthrew Montrose; and
for some time they paraded through the south-
west province of the country, professing to acknow-
ledge no interests but those of Christ and the na-
tion. At length, having imprudently fallen upon a
party of Cromwell's dragoons, at Hamilton, they
were worsted to such a degree, as never again to
make an appearance on the field. It is somewhat re-
markable, and might almost be held as justifying
Cromwell's interpretation of the decrees of Provi-
dence, that this party were almost the only suffer-
ers by the war which they themselves had contri-
VOL. II, 2 B 9
290 CONCLUSION.
buted so materially, by their fantastic enthusiasm,
to bring into the country. It is remarked by a
contemporary historian, that, “ at Musselburgh,
Dunbar, and Hamilton, the honest men, some how
or other, got all the saddest blows.”
During the winter, the two armies lay inactive,
Cromwell at Edinburgh and Linlithgow, and the
king at Stirling. There was still an extermal re-
verence for the Covenant maintained in the royal
camp. Yet the sentiment of malignancy seems to
have been also very predominant. Whitelocke, for
instance, gravely records, as a proof of the ram-
pancy of a cavalier spirit, that one of the Scottish
colonels had been heard to say, that he hoped to
see the day when their colours, instead of the
watch-words they had hitherto borne, would be
adorned with the inscription, more suitable to his
views in taking up arms, “For tobacco, strong wa-
ters, and p
No active proceedings took place till the sum-
mer was considerably advanced. At length, after
Cromwell had used every means to tempt the Scot-
tish army from its entrenchments at the Torwood,
he resolved upon the strange expedient of crossing
over the Forth at Queensferry, and falling between
Charles and the country from which he drew his
supplies. To meet a body of about four thousand,
which he threw into Fife, the Scots dispatched a
rather superior force, under the charge of Sir John
Brown; and a collision took place at Inverkeithing,
in the neighbourhood of the point where the Eng-
lish had landed. The Scots, for a long time, fought
with great resolution; the Highland portion of their
party displaying, what might be considered, an
extraordinary degree of courage even for them.
Yet all was unavailing against the steady disci-
CONCLUSION. 29
plined valour of the republican soldiers. Two thou-
sand of the Scots were killed; six hundred taken
prisoners, including their commander; and, amidst
the spoils of the field, were about sixty stands of
colours. Cromwell's party immediately posted on
to Perth, which surrendered to them upon sum-
mons; and thus he had by one blow destroyed the
value of the king's position at the Torwood.
Charles, however, took at this juncture a step
still more bold and decisive than his opponent's, and
which seemed, at first sight, calculated, in a great
measure, to neutralize his success. Leaving him
to enjoy the fruits of his victory at Perth, the young
king raised the Scottish army from its position, and
led it forward into England, which was now, by
reason of Cromwell's absence, quite unprotected.
Cromwell only learned what had taken place a day.
after the army had proceeded on its enterprise.
He immediately dispatched a message to quiet the
alarms of his own parliament, then sent off Lam-
bert with a large body of horse to harass the rear
of the Scottish army; and, lastly, followed him-
self, with all the strength he could muster, except
a small body which he left with General Monk, to
keep the country quiet behind him. Charles, who
was now generalissimo of the army, with the Duke
of Hamilton and David Leslie under him, march-
ed on, with astonishing rapidity, endeavouring
everywhere to rouse the English cavaliers and Pres-
byterians. -
The eyes of all men were turned with unusual
interest upon this expedition, the result of which
was for some time very uncertain. Never, at any
former period of the war, had the restoration of
monarchy been so near a consummation; never
had the republicans been so much at fault. Yet it
292 CON CLUSION.
proved, after all, that the loyalists were not yet
sufficiently consistent or united in spirit to achieve
their purpose. As they marched through Eng-
land, the Scots deserted in great numbers to re-
gain their native country, while the English were
everywhere prevented from joining by the vigo-
rous measures adopted by the parliament. After
a march of about a fortnight, they were obliged to
halt for refreshment at the city of Worcester; and
Cromwell thus got time to overtake them. With
an army of fifteen thousand men, the republican
general did not hesitate a moment to fall upon the
Scots, who were now diminished from eighteen to
eleven thousand. It was the third of Septem-
ber, the anniversary of the battle of Dunbar; and
Cromwell, to inspirit his men, had given out the
same word, and the same signal, as on that auspi-
cious occasion. For some time the royal army
defended their entrenchments with great spirit and
fortitude. Cromwell, according to his own con-
fession, had never found so vigorous a resistance ;
but the multitude of the assailants, which enabled
them to attack the town on more points than one,
proved in the end irresistible. The Scottish horse
eventually fled in the greatest disorder, carrying
the king along with them; and the foot had then
only the alternative of surrendering or being cut
down. Two thousand of the vanquished army
were slain, six thousand taken, and an immense
quantity of valuable stores and baggage fell into
the hands of Cromwell. The Duke of Hamilton
was mortally wounded ; the Earl of Lauderdale,
and many other noblemen, were among the prison-
ers; and very few of even the common soldiery
returned to tell the tale in their own country.
Charles himself, after a series of adventures and
CON CLUSION. 293
escapes which only find a parallel in those expe-
rienced by his grand-nephew in 1746, fortunately
got safe over to Holland. -
Cromwell, having thus successively destroyed
the military power of the two parties into which
Scotland was divided, found no longer any diffi-
culty in reducing the country under the obedience
of the English parliament. His delegate, Monk,
experienced not the least resistance throughout
the whole of the Lowland district, except at Dun-
dee, which held out for some time, in the hope of
being relieved. This town being taken after a
short siege, Monk, in obedience to the orders of
Cromwell, and to strike terror into the other
towns, put the garrison and a great number of the
inhabitants to the sword. It was only in the
Highlands that he found any considerable resist-
ance. The Marquis of Argyle, who had refused
to accompany Charles in his invasion of England,
held out a bold front at Inverary, where he had
assembled not only his own clansmen, but also
some political and religious allies. Upon different
views, the most of the other Highland chiefs re-
fused to yield to the English. Nor did it seem
probable, when the nature of their country was
considered, that they would be easily suppressed.
Argyle, however, was at length surprised at Inve-
rary. Some of the northern loyalists at the same
time capitulated, and others permitted themselves
to be overawed. It is a somewhat curious fact,
that many of both the cavalier and presbyterian
parties in Scotland yielded to Cromwell with a
kind of good-will, arising from the notion, that by
doing so they were helping to distress each other.
Scotland then became a mere province of Eng-
land. The parliament mocked it for some time
2 B 2
294, CON CLUSION,
with proposals for a federal union, and even af-
fected to receive commissioners from its counties
and burghs, to sit with themselves at Westmin-
ster; but to all intents and purposes it was used
as a conquered country. It was provided with
judges from England, for the management of its
courts of justice. Fortunately, the liberal views
of the Independents as to religious matters per-
mitted them to tolerate the church-government
and code of faith, to which the Scots were so
warmly attached. It was only seen fit to deprive
the Church of all that exorbitant external power,
which it had of late years arrogated to itself.
These measures, hard as they appear, were not
merely dictated by a desire on the part of Crom-
well to rule over Scotland. It would seem that
there was an absolute necessity for them. The
different parties into which the nation was divided,
were now so virulent against each other, and were
so nearly balanced in point of power, that, if left.
to govern themselves, they would have been im-
mediately precipitated into an intestine war, fatal
to themselves and dangerous to England. To
give an idea of the spirit of animosity which per-
vaded the people, it may be mentioned, that at the
first session of the English judges, no fewer than
four hundred cases were laid before them, chiefly
arising out of private quarrels. Some of these cases
referred to facts which had taken place twenty
years before, and for which there was no better
proof than a forced confession before the Kirk 1
It is also remarkable, that many of the cases were
for witchcraft. Sixty persons were accused of that
imaginary crime in one day. The judges found so
much malice in the charges, and so little proof to
support them, that they dismissed the whole. Af-
CON CLUSION, 295
terwards, however, the people themselves, thus
disappointed of vengeance in a legal way, subject-
ed the unfortunate objects of their resentment to
the most inhuman torments, insomuch as to pro-
duce death in several cases.”
There was precisely the same necessity for ta-
king the management of religion out of the hands
of the natives. The resolutioners and protesters
—in other words, those who were fierce for mode-
ration, and those who were fierce for extravagance
—were now so violently inflamed against each
other, as to be a perfect scandal to the very name
of religion. It may seem strange, yet it is per-
fectly true, that they now scarcely ever met with-
out ending their controversy by an appeal to fists.
The people themselves, whom they had so long
wrought upon, began at length to become disgust-
ed with their violence. In June 1652, on their
attempting to hold a meeting at Dalkeith, “the
women of the town,” says the contemporary his-
torian last quoted, rose tumultuously, and caused
them to dissolve. Nearly about the same time,
the Synod of Perth, having met at that ancient
city, to take the people to task for some symptoms
of a similar feeling, “the wives” came up to the
church, bearing good clubs in their hands; when, a
clergyman being sent out to threaten them with
excommunication if they did not disperse, they
seized and beat him most unmercifully. They
then entered the church, proceeded to administer
the same chastisement to his brethren ; and final-
ly, they put the whole Synod to rout. So terri-
fied were the ministers by this affray, that one of
them, meeting a soldier a little way out of town,
fell down on his knees before him, and implored
his mercy, every person appearing, to his affright-
296 CON CLUSION.
ed imagination, an enemy prepared to destroy him.
The rest of the members, when they had got to a
safe distance, turned round, and pronounced the
town, and especially its women, accursed unto all
time. In 1637, the same gentlemen had declared
the female sex above all praise for their activity in
stoning and mobbing the episcopal clergy; but they
now found that a bad weapon, ill employed, may
sometimes do more harm to him who uses it, than
to those against whom it is directed. -
At length, Cromwell resolved to put a stop to
these disgraceful scenes by utterly depriving the
clergy of all conventional power. In July 1653,
the very month when he dissolved the English
Parliament, he also dissolved the Scottish General
Assembly. There was something extremely me-
lancholy in this affair; and yet, perhaps, there
are many persons who will only consider it ridi-
culous. The assembly met at Edinburgh; and,
after two sermons by Dickson and Douglas, pro-
ceeded to its usual place of session. Scarcely had
it commenced business, when Lieutenant-colonel
Cottrel beset the house with a company of horse
and another of foot, and, entering in person, de-
manded to know if this assemblage was authorized
by the Commonwealth of England. Being an-
swered in the negative, he asked if it had the
sanction of the Commander-in-chief of the English
forces in Scotland. This also being answered in
the negative, he asked if it was permitted by the
English commissioners for the execution of justice
in Scotland. The moderator then informed the
intruder that this was an ecclesiastical body, com-
missioned by no less an authority than that of
Jesus Christ, and meeting for the sole purpose of
promoting his interest on earth, Cottrel, however,
CON CLUSION . 297
who was but ill able to appreciate a commission of
so spiritual a nature, immediately mounted a
bench, and proclaimed all judicatories unlawful
which had not authority from the parliament of
England. They sat still ; thunderstruck at what
appeared so impious an insult of their sacred di-
ploma. But Cottrel soon roused them to a sense
of their real situation, by telling them, that, if they
did not immediately depart of their own accord, he
would order his soldiers to drag them out of the
room. When they, accordingly, left the house, he
surrounded them with his troops, and led them
along the streets of the city, towards the West
Port, or gate, a spectacle of pity to the whole po-
pulation. Having conducted them about a mile
out of town, he caused them to gather into a circle
around him, and, having environed them with his
horse, addressed them in a speech which probably
expressed the precise wishes of Cromwell regard-
ing them. He blamed them for their audacity in
meeting, as they had done, to disturb, with their
dissensions, a country already too much divided by
other matters of dispute. He told them to depart
from Edinburgh, before eight o'clock next morn-
ing, under pain of imprisonment. And he forbade
them ever again to meet in a number exceeding
three, if they wished to escape the same penalty.
Thus did two companies of soldiers, at last break
up a body, for whose interests three kingdoms
had been agitated for sixteen years with unceasing
war, and which had, at various periods throughout
that space of time, seemed nearly the most influen-
tial judicatory in the whole empire.
Henceforth, and ever till the restoration of
King Charles II. in 1660, Scotland remained in
the tranquil condition of an appanage to England,
298 CoNCLUSI ON.
kept in check by about ten thousand men, who
were dispersed over the country in forts and
stations, and in all matters yielding obedience to
the great soldier who had subdued it. Its peace
was only disturbed, during that period, by an in-
surrection of the royalists in the Highlands, under
the Earl of Glencairn and General Middleton,
which was suppressed almost without bloodshed.
The country was never in a more prosperous, more
peaceful, or more happy condition, than during
these few years of bondage. Its manners and
manufactures were improved by the English sol-
diery; its wealth was increased by the large sums
(about L. 140,000 annually) which were sent
from England to pay the army; and the people
found a degree of humane justice in the English
judges, and even in the military commanders,
which they had never experienced under their for-
mer feudal masters, or under their tyrannical
priesthood. It almost appeared from this period
of its history, that Scotland had never needed any
thing to render it a happy country, but a govern-
ment sufficiently strong to repress the religious
and political factions by which it was torn; in
other words, it only required to be deprived of the
power of injuring itself.
N O T E S
TO
VOLUME SECOND.
CHAP. I.-RAVAGE OF ARGYLE, AND BATTLE OF
INVERLO CHY-
1 Red Book of Clanranald, MS. p. 28.
2 Red Book of Clanranald, MS. p. 29.
3 Montrose Redivivus, 52.
4 Guthry, on the contrary, remarks that no human blood
was shed ; “all the people,” he satirically adds, “follow-
ing the example of their lord, and flying also.”—Memoirs,
174.
5 Lieutenant-General Baillie's Narrative, Principal Bail-
lie’s Letters, ii. 255.
During his residence at Killcummin (now Fort-Au-
gustus,) Montrose drew up a Bond of Association in fa-
vour of the royal cause, to which all his principal adhe-
rents attached their names, either at the time or afterwards,
It was a counterpart of the Covenant, to which it was de-
signed as an antidote. The following copy of the original.
in the archives of his Grace the Duke of Montrose, is derived
more immediately from the copy printed in the “ Histo-
rical and Genealogical Account of the Family of MacDonald,
Edinburgh, 1819 ;” while the signatures are added from
another copy in the possession of a friend.
“Ane Band of unione amongst all his majesties faith-
ful subjects, as also of mutuall assistance and defence.
“Whereas his sacred majesty, for the vindication of
his own honour and just authority, and the happiness and
recovery of his thralled and oppressed subjects, has been,
from all reason and necessitie, constrained to owne himself
and their miseries, by declaring by open proclamation the
300 t NOTES,
horrid crimes of the rebellious faction that now so raigeth
within the kingdom, to be most wicked and traiterous, as
they are most unjust and unnatural, willing and requiring
all his majesty’s faithful subjects to yield by no means
their obedience thereto, but, on the contrary, to join them-
selves with Prince Maurice, his majesty's nephew, and
Captain-General ower the whole kingdome, or James Mar-
quis of Montrose, his majestie's Lieutenment-Generall of the
same, and to use all their best and most vigorous opposition
against the actors and instruments of all these abominable
and monstrous crimes : Witt ye us, therfor, under-sub-
scryuers, out of the deep sense of our deutie to God, our
consciences, king, and native country, yea to all laws and
justice divine and humane, by these presents, to bind and
obleige ourselfs, like as we are by God and nature tyed, with
our livis, fortunes, and estates, to stand to the maintenance
of the honour and authorities of our sacred and native Gene-
rall, contrary to this present perverse and infamous factione
of desperate Rebells, now in force against him; and that we
shall, upon all occasions, according as we are required by
his majesty, or any having his power, or as the opportuni-
ty shall offer, be ever ready to use all our best and most
active endeavours for that effect ; as also each and every
one of us do faithfully promise mutuallie to assist one an-
other herein, as we shall be desired, or the occasion require.
All which, before God and his Angells, we most solemn-
lie and upon our consciences and just sense, voluntarlie and
sincerelie vowe and promeis firmly to adhere to and never
to swerve from, as we would be reputed famous Men and
Christians, and expect the blessing of Almighty God in this
life, and his etermall happiness hereafter. In witness where-
if, we have subscryuit thir presents at Killiwherme, (sic
in MS.) the penult day is of January, the year of God, ane.
thousand sex hundreth and fourtie-fyve yeirs.
** Mors T ROSE
Airly
Seaforth (who did not join till April 1646.) -
Grahame (Lord, eldest son of Montrose, and who died in
March following at the Bog of Gicht, now Gordon Cas-
tie.)
Lo. Gordon (Lodovick 3d son of the Marquis of Huntly,
and afterward Marquis.)
Thom. Ogilvy (Sir Thomas, killed at Inverlochy, young-
er son of the Earl of Airlie.) -
|NOTES, 30 I
L. M“Lean of Dowart (Sir Lauchlan, Baronet.)
J. Macrronald of Eyellandtirrem, (fiar of Moydart, and
Captain of Clanronnald, father of Donald Moydartach.)
E. M*Donald apirand of Glengerry (Eneas, afterward,
by creation, Lord MacDonald and Arros. He was then
grandson of Glengarrie.)
Alexander MacDonnell (Col Kitoch's son, and major-
general in the expedition.)
Duncane Steuart fiar of Appin
J. Grant of Mioyne
Donald Camroune tutor of Lochiel (viz of Ewan, after-
wards Sir Ewan.)
Nat. Gordon (Colonel, surnamed Caoch.)
J. Gordon of Knokespic
Donald Robertson tutor of Strowan
D. M'Pheirsone (Colonel Donald, killed at Aberdcen in
1645.)
P. Campbell of Edinample (younger brother of Sir Ro-
bert Campbell of Glenurquhy, an active partizan on the
other side.)
P. Greme
Johnne Drummond (Sir, of Logiealmond, younger son of
Earl of Perth.)
J. Grame, (John, G. of Balgowan, or of Duchray, or of
Craigie, or of Catter, or of Gartur ; all of whom were in
Montrose’s army. Graham of Gartur was Montrose’s
Commissary.)
James Grant of Freuquhy (or Laird of Grant.)
Robert Gordone
D. Farcharson
J. Kynnard of Coulbyne
Wm. Dow of Orchardwall
Donald Macdonald of Ceippec [Keppoch] (commonly call-
ed Donald Glas M“Ronnald.)
A. Gordon, of Fyvie younger
J. Martine of Kempkairne
R. Gordone (Sir Robert G. of Gordonstoun Baronet,
younger son of Earl of Sutherland, did not declare till
1646.)
P. Gordonne of Kirkhill
Johne Innes of Leuthars
T. Mowat of Balquhal (killed at Alford, 2nd July, 1645.)
T. * * * * * * *
VQI., II, 2 C
302 - NOTES.
Murich M“Leane of Lochbuy
R. M“Gwir of Mountdow (Drumdow.)
F. Hay (Colonel Francis, brother, as would seem, of Wm.
Hay of Dalgety, who also was engaged in the royal
cause.)
J. Robertson fiar of Downie
L. M'Phersone
G. Innes younger of Leuthars
J. Gordon of Letterfurey
Wm. Gordon of Feyvie
Alexander Dunbar of Keilboik [Kilboyak.]
J. Abercromby
W. Innes (Captain W. Innes of the Guards, 3d son of
Sir Robert Innes of that ilk.)
T. M'Kenzie of Pluscardine (Sir Thomas, brother of the
Earl of Seaforth, seems not to have joined before April
1646.)
Hugh Innes
J. Gordon of Carnbarrow
Patrick M*Gregor of that ilk (surnamed Caoch.)
William Douglas of Glenberkie (Sir, Baronet.)
Wm. Chisholme fiar of Cromlia, (married a sister of Wil-
liam 9th Earl of Glencairn, now on the opposite side,
but who entered into the Engagement 1648, and led a force
for Charles II. in 1653-4.)
David Murray of Colquhalyie
J. M. {{ * * † 2 3
6 John, the Ilean or Poor.
7 Now Fort-Augustus.
8 Memoirs of the Sutherland family, 522.
9 Wishart's Memoirs, (edit. 1819,) p. 112.
10 Baillie's Letters, ii. 93. A letter from the committee
of parliament which accompanied Argyle, was read in the
house, at Edinburgh, on the 18th of January, stating that
“ the marques had gotten a fall and disjointit his shoulder,
but he would be weill.”—Balfour's Memorials of State,
Works, iii. 256. As the accident must thus have occurred
a few days before the 18th, and must consequently have been
at least three weeks old at the time of the battle (February
2,) it is to be supposed that there was more truth in the cava-
lier report, which ascribed the strange step he took to a de-
sire of escaping the dangers of battle, than in the plea which
his friends and himself set forward at the time, by which the
whole was attributed to his imability to engage in actual con-
NOTES. 303
flict. How strange would it now sound, were a general to
plead a broken or even a lost arm as a reason for retiring
from the head of his troops -
11 His lordship took with him on board the galley, the
Lairds of Niddry and Duncrub, Archibald Sydserf, bailie
of Edinburgh, and Mr Mungo Law, minister at the same
place, who had been deputed by the parliament at Edin-
burgh to accompany him on this expedition.
12 Remembered by Highland tradition to have been en-
titled the “Du Ludne.”
13 Persons specified in Parliamentary Record, under date
of February 11, 1645, as forfaulted “for the invasione of the
northe.”
“James, Erle of Montrose.
Alexr. M“Donald, alias Colkittoches Sone.
James, erle of Airlie.
Sr. Thomas, and
Sr. David, Ogilvies, his Sones.
Jon. Stewart of Auchannachen.
Donnald Glass MI*Ronnald of Keppoche.
David Graham of Gorthie.
Patrik Graham, fiar of Inchbrakie,
Johne M*Colmie.
Donald Roſber]tsone, tutor of Strowan.
Alexr. Ogilvie of Innerquharitie.
John Stewart of Shierglass.”
14 Balfour's Memorialls, iii. 272.
15 Guthry’s Memoirs, 180.
16 Tradition is here confirmed by history.—See Wishart's
Memoirs, Spalding's Troubles, &c.
17 The reason of Robertson having called himself a tinker
Sechns to have been, that, as these vagabonds, though a dis-
tinct race of people, practised the inferior departments of the
business of a blacksmith, that was the meanest and most
modest word by which he could designate his profession.
The descendants of this hero, many of whom live in the
Highlands of Athole and Rannoch, are to this day marked
out and distinguished from the rest of the vast population
of Robertsons inhabiting that district, by the additional
name or epithet of “Ngow chaird,” that is, the family of
the tinker smith.
18 To this list of prisoners, which is derived from the
minute and generally accurate Spalding, may be added,
upon the authority of the Red Book of Clanranald, two other
304 NOTES,
#. the young Laird of Caradale, and MacIver of
Pinginy Mor.
CHAP. II.--THE RETREAT of DUNDEE.
* Memoirs of the Sutherland Family, 522.
* Spalding, ii. 272.
3 Spalding, ii. 273. .
* “There came parties frae the regiments at Inverness,
to the place of Elchies, where the Laird of Grant was
dwelling, and plundered the samen, and left not the ladies
apparel, jewels, and goldsmith work, whereof she had store.
Thereafter they plundered the lands of Coxtown, because
the Goodman followed the Lord Gordon. They came to
Elgin, took the Laird of Pluscardine, and his brother
Lossyne, out of that strong house belonging to Pluscardine,
had them to Inverness, and kept them there, as they who
had come in to Montrose.”—Spalding's Troubles, ii. 276.
6 Laing for a moment disturbs the smooth flow of ge-
neral speculation, in which his “ History” consists, to re-
mark with bitter and peculiar sarcasm upon this circum-
stance ; which, however, is certainly after all a favourable
point in Montrose's history. Was it to have been expect-
cd that he would spare a house, merely because it was tem-
porarily inhabited by a lady ? That he did spare it on that
account, even for a composition, was certainly a stretch of
either gallantry or mercy. To say the least, he was more
to be commended for what he did, than the Earl of Finlater
was for leaving his wife unprotected in so exposed a situa-
tion, which Spalding informs us he had done just before
Montrose's approach. In the estimation of an unprejudi-
ced individual, there can be no comparison between the
gallantry of Montrose, and the unmanliness of Finlater.
6 It is worthy of remark, by the way, as tending to the
credit of the Scottish Highlanders, that, in none of the mi-
nute chroniclers of this period, as Spalding, &c., are they
ever mentioned as exciting fear in the country people for
either their lives or their property. There are innumerable
notices of the inhabitants of towns and cities flying, with
their infirm relatives and goods, at hearing of the approach
of “the wild Irish ;” but never once is there any such al-
lusion made to the other great component part of Mon-
trose's army. It would almost appear that our mountain-
eers conducted themselves throughout this campaign with
NOTES. 305
all the propriety and discretion, which distinguished them
so much as soldiers during the last war. -
Prom Spalding, it appears, that this was further neces-
sary, as some of the Covenanters in the north were already
drawing to a head, and beginning to retaliate the outrages
which they had lately suffered, upon the lands of the cava-
liers. Wishart has erroneously ascribed the withdrawal of
the Gordons to voluntary defection. -
8 Guthry, 183. -
9. In a report which King Charles caused to be drawn
up in 1639, regarding the ferries of the north of Scotland,
Dundee is termed “ the biggest town almost in Scotland.”
—See the paper at length in Burnet's Memoirs of the
Dukes of Hamilton, p. 128. -x
10 Montrose Redivivus, 65.
CHAP. III.--THE BATTLES OF AULDEARN
AND ALF ORIX.
I “ Montrose and Lord Gordon sat in the steeple of the
church of Auldearn ; others say they sat on the Castle-
hill.”—MS. Hist. Fraser Family. -
2 History of the Family of Fraser, MS. [Advocates'
Library, Jac. v. 7. 29, p. 348.
3 He was executed on the road betwixt Inverness and
Toam-ma-heurich, “standing on his feet,” says Spalding,
“ and not at a post.” The chief authorities consulted for
this account of the battle of Auldearn, are the Red Book
of Clanranald, the Manuscript History of the Fraser Fa-
mily, Gordon's History of the House of Gordon, Gordon's
History of the Family of Sutherland, Spalding’s Troubles,
Wishart's Memoirs of Montrose, and Guthry’s Memoirs.
4 Guthry’s Memoirs, 186,
5 History of England, iv. 533.
6 Spalding's Troubles, ii. 299.
7 History of the Sutherland Family, 526.
8 Spalding, ii. 301.
9 Narrative, Baillie's Letters, ii. 266.
10 Narrative, Baillie's Letters, ii. 266.
11 He complains in his narrative, that the meal, in which
consisted his only provision, was all done, and his troopers
had not had food for eight-and-forty hours.
12 Montrose Redivivus, 78.
13 Red Book of Clanranald, 43.
2 C 2
306 NOTES.
14 Wishart's Memoirs of Montrose, 8vo, 146.
15 Probably the old technical word for a volley.
16 History of the Sutherland Family, 528.
17 Baillie's Narrative, ut supra.
18 Red Book of Clanranald.
19. The writer of the Statistical Account of the parish of
Alford informs us, that about the middle of the last cen-
tury, “ some men, in casting peats near the village, dug
up the body of a man on horseback, and in complete ar-
mour, who had been drowned either in the pursuit or flight
from the engagement.” We are also informed by this wri-
ter, that a large stone is still pointed out by the country
people as marking the place where Lord Gordon fell.
20 Hist. Sutherland Family, 528.
CHAP. IV.-BATTLE of KILSYTH.
1 Hurry had deserted Baillie before the battle of Alford.
2 Red Book of Clanranald.
3 Baillie's Narrative, P. Baillie's Letters, ii. 269.
4 The following camp order, written by Montrose at
Little Dunkeld, and which I have copied from the original,
by favour of its proprietor, Mr Stewart of Dalguise, may
serve to show that, instead of being the unsparing tyrant
he is generally represented, he was on the contrary inspired
with an anxious wish to act with considerate moderation in
matters affecting the comfort of the people.
“Orders for John Robertson of Inver.
“Whereas we did direct ane speedie order for raising of
twa hundred cowes furth of the county of Atholl, and bring-
ing them to the camp for present supplie of the armie, and
to the effect that the countrymen may bear ane equall bund-
ing, and that they may be proportionally stented, where-
throw everie one may be burdened therewith according to
his abilitie: These are therefore to will and command, that,
immediatelie after sicht hereof, you lay ame proportionate
stent of the twa hundred cowes upon everie one within the
countrey, according to his quality and condition, that everie
one may have his share of the burding, and that you assure
the whole countrymen that at the first convenient occasion
they shall have the same repaid to them solemplie. Given
at our campe, at Little Dunkeld, the first day of August,
| 645. ** MONTROSE.”
The principal members of this body were, the Marquis of
NOTES. 307.
Argyle, the Earls of Crawford, Lanark, and Tulliebardine,
and the Lords Elcho, Burleigh, and Balcarras. r
6 Statistical Account of Scotland, xv. note, 159.
7 Guthry's Memoirs, 191.
8 Another instance of this strange reverence for church.
property on the part of Montrose's troops, is mentioned by
Spalding Ivol. ii, p. 300, ) as occurring at Elgin, after the
battle of Auldearn, when they “plundered the Friary of
Elgin, but would not burn it, being church lands.” It is
needless to observe that this respect was applied only to the
property of the Roman Catholic or Episcopalian church, and
did not at all extend to that of the Presbyterian divines,
many of whom, on the contrary, suffered very severely du-
ring this dreadful campaign.
9 Guthry, 191.
10 General Baillie's Narrative, Baillie's Letters, ii. 270,
271.
11 Nimmo's History of Stirlingshire, 2d edition, 533.
12 Baillie's Narrative, Baillie's Letters, ii. 273.
13 Red Book of Clanranald, 49.
14 Carte's History of England, iv. 538.
15 Red Book of Clanranald, 50.-Monteith's Troubles,
218.-Nimmo's History of Stirlingshire, 2d edition, 536.
16 Neil MacVourich.
17 Red Book of Clanranald, 5l.
18 Montrose Redivivus, 1652. In “a Breviary of the
History of the Parliament of England, by Thomas May,
Esq.” reprinted in a publication entitled, “Select Tracts Re-
lating to the Civil Wars of England,” [2 vols. London,
1815,1 it is stated that five thousand of the Covenanters were
killed at the battle of Kilsyth, and only those escaped whom
the wearied conquerors had not strength to kill : “ for the
cruel Montrose spared none ; crying out, They had no need
of prisoners.” Vol. i. p. 82.
19 1796.
20 Statistical Account of Scotland, xviii. 208; where we
are farther told that the names of places adjacent to the field
still indicate the extent of the carnage; as Slaughter Knowe,
Rill-many Butts, &c.
21 The late Sir John Sinclair of Longformacus, distin-
guished in his day for an intense feeling of Jacobitism, used
to tell, that he had heard the man make this remark, when
he himself was a very young man, about the beginning of
the last century.
308 NOTES.
22 During the battle of Kilsyth, a Covenanter rushed up
to the Earl of Airly, and earnestly beseeched to be admitted
to mercy. The venerable old mobleman kindly granted his
request, and desired him, for his own security, to attach him-
self to his stirrup, and so pass for his servant: But one of
the earl’s troop immediately after came up, suspected the
real quality of the pretended servant, and, only remarking
that it was too soon to take prisoners, cut him down with
one blow of his sword.—Episcopalian Tradition.
23 There was something very astonishing in the compari-
son between the numbers lost by the two different parties in
this war. It was computed that, in his six victorious battles,
Montrose slew at least sixteen thousand men, and lost on his
own part little more than a hundred.
CHAP. V.- BATTLE OF PIIILIPII AU GII.
I Baillie, ii. 159.
2 Baillie's Letters, ii. 150.
3 Baillie's Letters, ii. 164.
4 The invariable word in old Scottish writings for the
plague.
5 Guthry, 195. w
6 The following candid passage from Burnet's Memoirs
of the Dukes of Hamilton ought surely to be accepted as
strong exculpatory evidence, in favour of Montrose, against
the imputations which the modern Whig historians have
thrown out upon his personal character. “Many outrages
had been committed by his Irish and Highland souldiers,
which had been resisted by him as much as was possible;
but, having no pay to give them, he durst not exercise that
severity of martial discipline which had otherwise been me-
cessary. Yet all was imputed to his orders by his enemies
who knew him not.” P. 276.
7 The Earl of Leven, being upon the right wing of the
puritan army at Long Marston Moor, was driven out of the
field by the impetuous charge of Prince Rupert, and was
thirty miles distant, in full retreat, when he was overtaken
with the intelligence, (whether agreeable or disagreeable to
him it would be hard to say,) that Cromwell and his friend
David Leslie had gained a complete victory.
8 “The men of Athole and Maclean's men must needs
go home, to repair their buildings, which had been burnt;
nor could they be diverted from it, Sir Alexander Mac-
NOTES, 309
donald would needs go to Argyle, to revenge the injuries
done to his father and friends; he carried with him, besides
a strong party of Irish to be his life-guard, above 500 Scots
Highlanders, whom he had gained to desert the public ser-
vice and follow him. Montrose dealt most seriously with
him to have staid until they had been absolute conquerors,
promising them to go thither himself, and be concurring
with him in punishing them as they deserved; and withal
told him, that his separating at this time must be the occa-
sion of ruin to them both. But all was to no purpose. He
would needs be gone ; alleging, for a reason, Argyle's cruel-
ties against his friends ; that nobleman, he said, having four
years ago drawn his father and brother to Inverary upon
trust, and then made them prisoners; since which time, his
friends having retired to the isles of Jura and Rachlin for
shelter, Argyle had sent the Laird of Ardkinlass and the
Captain of Skipness, to the said isles, to murder them, which,
he said, they did without mercy, sparing neither women nor
children. With such discourses he justified his departure,
and would not be hindered.”—Guthry's Memoirs, 199.
9 History of the Family of Sutherland, 528.
10 September 4, 1645.
- 11 Guthry, 200.
12 Letter to Lord Digby, bearing date from the neigh-
bourhood of Kelso, September 10, found on the person of
Sir Robert Spottiswood, when he was made prisoner.—Ap-
pendia to Wishart's Memoirs,
13 Memoirs, 202.
14 Lord Somerville, writer of the curious family memoir,
entitled “ The Memorie of the Somervilles.”
15 Wishart's Memoirs, 8vo ed. 1819, p. 204. -
16 Breviary of May's Parliamentary History, apud “Se-
lect Tracts relating to the Civil Wars of England,” i. 82.
17 Gordon's History of the Noble Family of Gordon.
18 Montrose Redivivus, 117. –Monteith, 224.—Guthry,
203. -
The last-quoted author maintains that Leslie afterwards
attempted to justify his treacherous and cruel conduct, by
stating that, on receiving the royalists to quarter, he con-
ceived himself only engaging for the safety of Stuart, the
adjutant, who settled the terms of surrender with him.
Guthry also mentions that he was urged to order the mas-
sacre not by one clergyman, but by all who were present,
as also by several of the noblemen who accompanied him.
3 10 NOTES.
19 Baillie gives an oblique testimony to the truth of the
fact, by mentioning that, out of a thousand who were buried
after the battle, scarcely fifteen were of Leslie’s army. It
is impossible to suppose that nine hundred and eighty-five
persons were killed out of an army so small, and which
fought so little, unless there had been a massacre of a great
body of prisoners.
20 Montrose Redivivus, 119.
21 This fact, so honourable to the king, is acknowledged
by Baillie himself, ii. 165. -
22 This dreadful fact rests upon the authority of Sir
George Mackenzie, in his well-known “Vindication,” and
of Gordon, in his History of the family of Gordon. Wish-
art first related the incident; but having unfortunately mis-
taken the river Tweed for the Avon, some modern historians,
among the rest Laing, ignorant of the two above authorities,
have presumed to treat it as a falsehood, because, at the time
specified, there was not a bridge over the Tweed betwixt
Peebles and Berwick. As to the credit of Sir George Mac-
kenzie and Gordon, it may be presumed to be unquestion-
able, as they were men of honour, lived in the generation
immediately subsequent to the event, and could not have
ventured to publish an untruth which could be so easily de-
tected. r
23 Baillie, ii. 164.
CHAP. VI. —Su PPRESSION OF MONTROSE’s INSU R-
IRECTION,
1 The following letter, written by Montrose, at the Cas-
tleton of Braemar, to John Robertson of Inver, Captain of
the Castle of Blair, in Athole, [copied from the original, in
the possession of Mr Stuart of Dalguise,] betrays the an-
xiety which he felt, during his southward march at this pe-
riod, regarding the increase of his army, and, in particular,
regarding the return of MacCol to his standard :— º
“INVER,--I am glad of this good newes. I am ad-
vanced this length, and am, God willing, to be this night
in Glenshee; wherefore you will, immediately after sight
hereof, convene the whole countrymen, and direct them to
meit me towards Dunkeld with all possible diligence. And
let me be advertised what you can hear of Sir Alexander
M“Donald, or where he is, and of all occurrences in the
NOTES. 3] I
country, or what else intelligence you can learn. We
rest, - ** MONT ROSE.''
“Casteltoune of Braymar,
“ 23 October 1645.”
2 Guthry, 208.
3Balfour’s Annals, iii. 311.
4 December 4.—Balfour’s Annals, iii. 324.
5 This is the official record of the fact in Balfour’s Me-
morials of Parliament. The Whig historians, in their at-
tempts to palliate what is but too clearly an abomination in
the page of our history, have caught up the phrase, “ con-
forme to the treaty betwein the two kingdoms,” which they
seem to consider in itself a sufficient justification of the con-
duct of parliament. But how the Irish should have become
entitled to lose their lives in consequence of any diplomatic
arrangements which the self-constituted parliaments of Great
Britain-chose to make with each other, is to the understand-
ing of the present author perfectly inexplicable.
6 Guthry, 310.-Wishart, 8vo, 238.
7 See the Life of Sir Robert, prefixed to his “Practicks,”
folio, 1706. - -
8 January 20, 1646.
9 Guthry, 206.
10 Guthry, who, as a member of the Commission of the
Kirk, heard the report which the deputation immediately
after brought back from the Committee.
11 Balfour’s Annals, iii. 362.
12 He was only nineteen years of age.
13 Whitelocke records an amusing circumstance regarding
the methods which the Independents took in the Westmin-
ster Assembly for bamboozling the Presbyterians. When-
ever these gentlemen pushed the Independents rather hard
with quotations from Scripture, their champion, the celebrated
Selden, would rise up and say, “Perhaps in your little
pocket-bibles, with gilt leaves,” (which they would often
pull out and read,) “ the translation may be thus ; but the
Greek or the Hebrew signified thus and thus ;” which in-
variably silenced them.
14 Both of these yet form part of the Scottish Confession
of Faith. The last is still a regular class-book in all the
parochial schools of Scotland.
15 Guthry, 222.
16 Burnet's Memoirs of the Dukes of Hamilton, 280.
17 Memoirs of Montrose, 8vo, 263, 264, 265.
4
312 NOTES.
CHAP. VII.-concLUSION OF THE CIVIL WAR.
I Burnet's Dukes of Hamilton, 283.
2 The following extracts from a curious and rare pamph-
let, entitled, “The Scots Treacherous Designes Discover-
ed,” [London, 1647, testify the disgust in which the Eng-
lish at this period held their northern neighbours, and are,
moreover, worthy of a perusal, as containing some curious
notices regarding the modes of living and dressing which
then obtained among the Scots.
“As for the pulpit-clutching clergy, they (the people)
must needs hate them ; for, before the bishops began to rule,
there was a toleration of nonsense throughout the kingdom.
When now it was not stamping, knocking, and pronoun-
cing dreadful damnation, that procured Mass John a bene-
fice ; but now, before he can be trusted with a parsonage,
he must be capable of speaking mild sense, for fear of com-
mitting violence on the cushion ; and this was sufficient to
cause the clergy to convene. Then for the plaine, down-
right, cale-eating Blew-cap, judge you but his just cause
of convening ; for before bishops came in, then was the bug-
breeding Scotch cloth all in fashion, from the mightie Ma-
dam in the matted chamber, to Muckell Maggie on the
midden ; and then could Sandie's wife and three bearnes
eaddle their eighteen-pence a weeke at spinning ; but now,
since the prelates brought in idolatrous lawne sleeves, now
it is growne so common, that every gill-flirt must have a
gorget on’t, and hold the comely Scotch cloth in disdaine.
This reason I suppose sufficient for blue-breeked Jockie to
COIn Vene. -
- * º *
“And there [Ireland, whither the Scots sent an army to
assist the king] you complained that your men wanted
breeches and shoes. Why? It is not unknown to the world,
that most of your nation, till they came into England, did
scarce think there were any such things incident to nature;
for ye are not only born without breeches and shoes, but
bred without them, and being not used to them in your in-
fancy, I wonder how you have impudence to complain for
want of them in your age 1
{{ ł § &
“A guard he had, [that is the king, when the Scots ar-
my kept him at Newcastle,) but no devourers of bull-beef;
7
NOTES. 3 13
for since their first existence they never tasted any flesh be-
yond tripe and livers; instead of the honourable badges of
York and Lancaster upon their back and breasts, they wore
the lively achievements of Aberdeen and Dundee, with Je-
gions of puissant lice traversing their scab-bemountained
bodies.
(This refers to the dress of the attendants imposed on the
king, in place of beef-eaters.)
º * {
“On this occasion, the Scotch Leards were at the charge
of putting themselves in boots and hats, which thing neither
they nor their predecessors ever knew since the time of Ju-
das Iscarict, who was the patriarke of the nation.”
{{ tº * *
3 Such is actually the sum mentioned by Guthry, (Me-
moirs, 212,) as what was charged by England for this ar-
ticle.
* Guthry, 238.
5 Saturday, January 18, 1647.
6 Memoirs of the Dukes of Hamilton, 311.
7 Bishop Guthry’s account of the disbanding of the army,
and subsequent disposal of the money, is drawn with the sa-
tirical pen of a partizan, but is probably near the truth.-
See his Memoirs.
8 Genealogical History of the Family of Sutherland, b
Sir Robert Gordon of Gordonstoun, Bart. Edin. 1813.
9 1646—just as the negotiations for the vendition of the
king were drawing to a close.
10 History of the Sutherland Family, 537.
11 Guthry, 242.
12 Of Neaves, who was nephew to Andrew Cant, and one
of the most furious zealots of his time, Wodrow gives the
following account:—“ This excellent man was the Earl of
Lowdon's minister, and very much valued by his lordship,
and therefore must be attacked now. He was a person of
very considerable parts and bright piety. There is a hand-
some paraphrase of his upon the Song of Solomon, in Latin
verse, printed ; and I have seen some accurate sermons of
his upon Christ's temptations, which I wish were printed.”
He was minister of Newmills, in Ayrshire, the parish in
which Lord Loudoun resided.
13 See Extract from Sir James Turner's Manuscript Me-
moirs, in 8vo edition of Wishart's Montrose, [Edin, 1919),
pp. 59, 70, 71, 72, 73.
W 0 L, II, 2 D
3.14 - NOTES,
14 Extract from Sir James Turner's MS. printed in notes
to Kirkton's Secret and True History, p. 45. Sir James is
here, I am disposed to suspect, unnecessarily severe in his
censure of the Chief of Maclean ; as, in all probability, the
sixteen Irish were only sacrificed for the purpose of saving
a greater number of his own clan, or, more probably still,
could not be preserved by any means. It must also be hint-
ed, as a palliation of the cruelty which the clan Campbell
displayed in this expedition, that they had suffered most se-
verely from the Irish and other adherents of MacCol; even,
it is probable, to the extent of their having had many friends
and vassals killed in cold blood by the former at least, if no
by the MacCouls and MacDonalds also. -
CHAP. VIII.-AscENDENCY of TIIE INDEPEND.
ENTS, AND EXECUTION OF THE KING.
I Guthry, 261.
2 Balfour's Annales, iii. 305.
3 Baillie, ii. 284.
1 Baillie, ii. 295.
5 Memoirs of the Dukes of Hamilton, 355.
6 Rushworth’s Collections, vii. 1193.
7 Carte's History of England, iv. 589.
8 Guthry, 295.
CHAP. IX.—cHARACTER OF ARGYLE's GOVERN-
MENT.
1 Salmasius, in one of the controversial pamphlets which
he wrote against Milton, in favour of the royal cause, says,
with quaintness, but also with truth, “Presbyteriani ligā-
runt, Independentes trucidarunt.”
2 [t should be mentioned that, on the 6th of February,
(namely, on the Monday succeeding the Tuesday on which
the king was executed,) Charles the Second was proclaimed
King of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, at the Cross of
Edinburgh. The news of the king's execution was brought
to Edinburgh by one Lieutenant Gowan, (an officer in Stra-
chan's troop of horse, and therefore probably of Independent
principles,) whom the Tory historians assert to have been
present on the scaffold, and who was even said by many to
have acted as the royal executioner.—See Father Hay's MS.
Adv. Lib, ii. 380.
NOTES. 3 I 5
3 That, even before this period, a degree of insanity had
overtaken at least the clergy, seems to be clearly indicated
by the following specimen of a sermon preached by one of
them, in St Giles's Church, at Edinburgh, 1642. N.B. The
minister was a Highlander ; and the publication is there-
fore entitled “The Redshanks’ Sermon.”—[London, print-
ed for J. Bates.]
Text—“ Zion is wounded, and I will heal her, saith the
Lord.”—Jeremiah, v. 30.
“I need not trouble you to set forth who is meant by
Zion; ye all know very well that it is the poor Church of
Scotland, who is now wounded in her head, her heart, in
her hands, and in her feet.
“In her head by government, in her heart by doctrine,
in her hands by discipline, and in her feet by worship.
“First, she is wounded in her head, when she hath got
such a clash as hath made all her braines clatter again, and
slmost put her beside her five senses.
“First, in her seeing ; for she could once have seen as
well as any Christian kirk, but now she cannot discern be-
tween that and true religion.
“Secondly, she is wounded in her hearing ; she could
have distinguished the sound of the Gospel and the reign
of the Law, but now, since the organs came in, she is grown
as deaf as a door-naile.
“Thirdly, she could have smelled as well as any other
kirk ; but now, having smelled the whore of Babylon, she
is so senseless, that, bring the stinking Popish trash under
her nose, it will seem as sweet as a rose.
“Fourthly, she could have tasted as well as the best ;
but now she hath tasted the Pope's idolatry, she cannot re-
lish her former food.
“Lastly, she was so pure and tender, that she would not
touch any thing which had been corrupted ; but now she
hath touched some Popish pitch, and how can she be but
defiled 2 The application follows.
“You see how she hath almost lost her senses; and you
that are old men have seen her ministers going in good old
short cloaks, with round black velvet caps, which little
cloaks turned more souls to God than ever the old gowns
did.
{{ # º 1.
“Now I come to tell you how she is wounded in her feet;
that is in the worship of the Kirk. The office of the feet
316 • NOTES.
is to travel withal; and they have made a very hackney of
Religion. The Kirk was once a bonny nag, and so pretty,
that many thought it pity to ride her ; till at last the Bish-
ops, those rank riding louns, got on her back, and then she
trotted so hard that they could hardly at first well ride her;
yet at last they so cross-legged and hopshackled her, that
she became a pretty pacing beast, and so easy, that they
took great pleasure to ride upon her. But now, what with
their riding her up and down between Edinburgh and Lon-
don, (and one journey to Rome too,) they had given her sic
a sore heat, that we have been this twelvemonth walking
her up and down to keep her from foundring.
“Nay, they have not only made a horse, but an ass also,
of the Kirk of Scotland, yea an ass worse than Balaam’s
was. Balaam, ye ken, was ganging a great way, and the
errand, ye ken too, to curse where the Lord had blessed.
And the angel first met him in a broad way, and the ass
boggled and startled. But Balaam beat the ass, and got by
the angel ; and so was our Kirk beaten unreasonably, when
Episcopacy came on her ass riding amongst us.
“Afterwards, Balaam met the angel again in a straiter
way, and then the ass startled more than before. Balaam
beat her again worse than he did before ; so was our Kirk
kickit, and very shrewdly wounded, when the bishops
brought in the five articles of Perth amongst us. i
“The third time, the angel met Balaam in so strait a
lane, that the ass could not pass by ; and Balaam beat the
ass again. But the Lord made the ass to speak, and reprove
him for beating her; and then God opened Balaam’s eyes.
So the bishops, being blind as Balaam, have ridden and
beaten our Kirk so long, and taken us at such a strait, that
we were even ready to be destroyed. But God hath heard
our cry, and we pray him also to open the eyes of our ad-
versaries, who were even as blind as Balaam, and were going
as unlucky a way as he , for they were posting to Rome with
a pockmanty behind them ; and what was in the pockmanty,
trow ye 2 marry, even the Book of Common Prayer, the
book of Canons, and orders of the High Commission. Now,
as soon as the ass saw the angel, she falls to flinging, and
over goes the pockmanty, and it hung on one side of the
ass by one string, and the bishops hang by the hamme on
the other side ; so they hang across the ass, like a pair of
panniers, full of Popish trash and trimkets. Fain would the
blind carle have been on the saddle again, but he could not :

NOTES. 3 || 7
nay, so he might be set right again, he would be content to
leave the pockmanty amongst us. But let me exhort ye,
dear brethren, do not let such a swinger ride any horse upon
your Religion ; for if ye do, he will be sure, one time or
other, to get the pockmanty behind him again.”
In addition to this outrageous nonsense, may be quoted
the peroration of a pamphlet, published by one of the same
party in 1640 :—
“This (namely, the destruction of Catholicism and Epis-
copacy) would make the Lord of heaven and earth to say,
Drop down, ye heavens, from above, and let the skies pour
down righteousness: let the earth open, and let them bring
forth salvation ; and let righteousness spring up together :
I, the Lord, have created it.”
3 It is but too glaringly observable, from “Lamont's
Diary,” a chronicle of familiar incidents, written about this
period, that, by attempting to refine the people to a degree
of purity which nature does not allow of, the clergy had only
plunged them into the opposite extreme of excessive and
unnatural vice. A glance at the volume will be sufficient
to explain, what can here be only hinted at in this delicate
IIlanller.
According to Nichol, in his Diary, “ Much falset and
cheitting was daylie deteckit at this time by the Lordis of
Sessioune ; for the whilk there was daylie hanging, skur-
ging, nailling of luggis (ears), and binding of pepill to the
trone, and boring of tongues; so that it was ane fatal yeir
for fals notaris and witnesses, as daylie experience did wit-
ness. And as for adulterie, fornicatioun, incest, bigamie,
and uther uncleannes and filthines, it did nevir abound moir
nor at this tyme.”
“At this tyme also,” says Nichol at another place, “my
Lord Lintoun was excommunicat and wardit (imprisoned),
for taking in marriage the Lord Seytounes relict, dochter to
the late Marquis of Huntly, scho being excommunicat for
Poperie.”
4 The pride and insolence to which this body had been
raised by the adulation of the people, and the courtship of
men of rank, is said to have been now far beyond any thing
of the kind ever exhibited by bishops. “At one of their
meetings,” says Father Hay, “where I happened to be in-
cognito, a gentleman who had been in the engagement came
forward, and desired to be again received into the good
graces of the kirk, declaring that he could hardly get lived
2 D 2
3 || 8 NOTES,
in the country till he did so. But the Moderator's answer
was, they would not hear any such desires—they behoved
to be supplicated. Such pride was never in prelates.”—
Memoirs, Adv. Lib. ii. 380.
5. It is curious to observe the Whig historians talking
with complacent respect of this government, as one founded
in the consent of the people, and therefore the best of all
possible governments. It may be sufficient here to observe,
hat, in consequence of the proscription of all persons of a
contrary way of thinking, the pretended parliament itself
did not contain a fifth part of the nobility of the country.
On one occasion, (May 23, 1640,) it sat down with only four
lords, and fewer than twenty barons and burgesses.—Bal-
four's Annales, iii. 407.
6 Lest the picture given in the text of the tyranny now
exercised in Scotland by Argyle and the Church may be
hardly credited in this age of scepticism, the sentiments of
a friend of the Church of Scotland regarding it, may be
given as a proof. Spang, the author of “ Historia Mor-
tuum,” (resident abroad,) in a letter to his friend Baillie,
thus speaks of their proceedings regarding the Engagers:–
“Neither shall ye ever have sure peace without rescinding
the last acts, in which you rank those whom you are pleased
to call malignants into four classes. Passion has been too
great in that act; for it is judged a greater sin not to protest
against the engagement than to be an ordinary drunkard,
since it is declared punishable with a more severe punish-
ment. Both friends and enemies have told me that this sa-
voured much of the Romish severity, where eating of flesh,
qeing a transgression of men's law, is more heartily punished
than notorious transgressions of God’s.” Speaking of the
moderate clergy, whom the fanatics had deposed in great
numbers, for suspected loyalty, the same author uses the
following most remarkable and too truly prophetic expression.
“It will be better to let your sails fall somewhat lower in
time, before a storm compel you ; or ye, who think God so
highly glorified by casting out your brethren, and putting
so many to beggary, making room by such depositions for
young youths, who are oft miscarried by ignorant zeal, may
be made, through your own experience, to feel what it is,
which now, without pity, is eaccuted upon others. Gene-
rally,” he adds, “the great power which the commission of
the Kirk exercises, displeaseth all.”
At the same time, to vindicate the picture given of Ar-
NOTES. 3.19
gyle's government, one circumstance may be mentioned.
* As to the Act of Judicial Robbery, [that is, the act for
the fining of the Engagers, it was so strictly put to execu-
tion, that Argyle's creatures, commanded by him, had their
espials at public inns, private lodgings, stables, and where-
ever strangers did alight at their coming to Edinburgh for
their affairs; and presently, albeit they had not whereon to
subsist, they must be charged with horning to lend money
to the public, as it was called ; else present imprisonment,
Now, what soumes were by this judicial robbery exacted,
let any rational man judge, when none in this part of the
kingdom escaped the lash.”—Hay's Memoirs, MS. Adv.
Lib. ii. 378. -
The testimony of another writer of the day, and of one
who was originally a Presbyterian, may be added. The
following amusing passage occurs in Sir James Balfour’s
Annals, under the appellation of “ a Merry Jeste :"—
“August, 1649. The present governors of the kingdom
have many excellent wayes and avenues to get money :
insomuch, when the cow slacks, they have a way to press
the nipples. Like Prospero Colonna's goose, they plucke
the old feathers of the oppressed gentrey, burgers, and com-
mons, that the new ones may grow the faster. In these pil-
fering devices, the Chancellor, (the Earl of Lowdoun,) the
Register, Johnston, and some of the leading ministers, and
others of their accomplices, excelles.
“About the latter end of this past winter, Mr Robert
Farquhar, in Aberdeine, being fallin in dislyke with the
Campbells, and the present governors, for his agility in the
late expedition to England, being then commissary for the
north shires, was now called to ane accompte, and summon-
ed to Edinburgh for that end. He was grately perplexed,
fearing that if he came in their handes, without some holy
recommendation, per expressum, notwithstanding the natu-
rall dryness of his lank leane body, yet they wolde so squisse
him with their screwes, so long as they coulde perceive any
acomfortble juice in him, that hereafter he woulde look more
like ane thunder-slaine, than a living creature. But he, a
subtle crafty fellow, having vexed himself a long time what
course to take, to evite the racke and gins laid for him, at
last bethinks himselfe of one way of addresse, as the most
assured of all others, which was thus : –
“The time of his compeirance at Edinburgh drawing
near, (for he beloved to take journey on Monday,) he caused
320 N O'FES.
his wife against Sunday night make good chiere, and sends
a particular conſidant of his to Mr Androw Cant, the mi-
nister of Aberdein, (one whose northerly motion had a great
influence on the south, he knowing arcana imperii,) to in-
vite him to supper. He refuses to come once, twice; at last
Mr Robert resolves with himselfe to have him at aney rate,
and forthwith goes to his house himselfe, and very earnestly
in submissive and humble terms, intreats him to let him be
honoured with his company at supper. The minister re-
fuses, in respect of the coldness of the night. He still urges
him to go, promising that he should find ane sure antidote
for aney colde. At last, being overcome by Mr Robert's
importunity, he goes home with him, (all this time it is ob-
servable how he called him no other but still Mr Robert,)
and being sett by the fyre, and made verey welcome, Mr
Robert goes to his closet, and brings to the hall a goune of
black velvett, lyned with mastriches, and wold have Mr
Androw put it on, which, with small intreaty, he did.
(Thereafter, in all his discourses, he calls him either Pro-
vost or Commissary, and not Mr Robert.) So, having supt
and made a plentiful meall, and being againe set by the fyre,
Mr Robert asks the minister, if he had any service to com-
mand to Edinburgh, for he was cited to appear there before
the parliament to make his accounts, and therefore besought
Mr Androw that he wold recommend him to some of his
most confident friends, which he promised to do. At last,
bed-time drawing near, Mr Androw rises to be gone, and
wolde have castin off the gowne ; but Mr Robert intreated
him not to do so, nor wrong him that far, in respect he had
brought him from his owne house in so cold and rigid a
night, to partake of a homely fare, for no other end but to
bestow that chamber gowne upon him, as befitting his age
and gravity, wishing it had been better for his cause ; but
such as it was, he humbly intreated him to accept of it, as
ane assurance and token of his love and affection to him ;
which Mr Androw did without more ceremonies. So Mr
Robert did accompany him home, with his gowne on his
shoulders, and at pairting, Mr Androw told him he should
not do weal to go without his letters. He said he wold not.
To-morrow, he got his letters, one to Argyle, ane uther to
Lothian, and the third to the Register Warriston, with two
more to some ministers ; which made him welcome to Edin-
burgh, and afterwards to dance about that fyre which, as
he feared, was so nigh, if not to burn him, at least to scald
NOTES. 321
him very sore. This history I had from a very confidant
and intrinsic friend of Mr Robert’s, who had it from his
awen mouth, and told it me the 10th of September 1649.”
–Balfour's Annales, iii. 428, et seq.
7 This is evident from the letter he addressed to Mon-
trose, Sept. 19, 1659, from St Germain's. Appendiv to
JVishart's Memoirs, No. XV. *
CHAP. X.—MoMTRos E’s SEcoRD CAMPAIGN.
1 Hume's History of England, chap. lx.
2 When in France, where he spent two years, he had
the offer of the appointments of General of the Scotch in
France, Lieutenant-General of the French army, and Cap-
tain of the gens-d’armes, with an annual pension of 12,000
crowns, and a promise of being promoted to the rank of
Mareschal, and to the Captaincy of the King's Guards ;
all of which preferments he declined, in the prospect of
serving his own king.—Letter of Archibald Napier, 14th
June, 1648, in possession of D. Napier.
3 These verses appear set to music, in a work entitled,
“Songs for one, two, and three Voices, with some short
Symphonies, collected out of the Select Poems of the in-
comparable Mr Cowley, and others, and composed by
Henry Bowman, Philo-Musicus.” 2d edition, printed at
Oxford, l079.
4 Balfour’s Annales, iii. 440.
5 The answers of the Estates and Kirk to the “scanda-
lous pamphlet of James Graham,” was “solemplie pro-
clamit and publist at the Mercat-croce of Edinburgh, (Feb.
9, 1650,) by ane macer, with the sound of many trum-
pettis. For the publishing thereof, ane scaffold was erectit,
with ane fire thereon, set up in a chimnay, whereat the
commoun hangman of Edinburgh and tour-officeris did
stand in thair ordinarie apparell usit at such a business.
And there, after reading of this answer of the kirk and
state fullie and at length, and after sounding of four trum-
pittis on the Croce, the hangman threw that forsaid James
Graham his declaratioun in the midst of the fyre, set thair
on a scaffold, on the eist side of the croce, as worthy of
newes being publist by that excommunicat traitor.”—Ni-
chol's Diary, A1S. Adv. Lib. - 3
6 Nichol's Diary, MIS. Adv. Lib.
7 Memoirs of the Sutherland Family, 552.
322 NOTES,
8 Memoirs of the Sutherland Family, 552, 553.
9 Balfour's Annales, iv. 9.
10 Balfour's Annales, iv. 9.
11 Letter, dated July 28, 1707, from a man of the name
of Robert Gordon, resident in the parish of Parton, in
Galloway, whose father rode in Colonel Strachan's troop.
12 The rocky hill where the fighting, such as it was,
chiefly took place, is called Craigcoynichan, (i. e. the Rock
of Lamentation,) in consequence of the slaughter.—Statis-
tical Account of the Parish of Kincardine.
13 Father Hay’s Memoirs, ii. 383.
14 Nichol's Diary, MS. Adv. Libr. Montrose's own
men, on this occasion, were clad in buff-coats, which reach-
ed to their knees.—Letter quoted, ut supra.
15 Sutherland Memoirs, 555.
16 Peterkin's Notes on Orkney, Appendix.
CHAP. XI.-Mont Rose’s CAPTURE AND
EXECUTION,
Common's War of England, 100.
2 Sutherland Memoirs, 555.
3 Wishart's Memoirs, 8vo ed. 377.
4 Macleod of Assynt got four hundred bolls of meal
from General Leslie, in reward for his service.—(See his
Indictment, Criminal Records, 1674.) He was tried at
Edinburgh after the Restoration for his treachery ; but the
unpopularity of Montrose's son with the cavaliers, with
some other circumstances, saved him from condemnation.
3 Letter quoted, ut supra.
6 Nichol's Diary, MS.
7 Memorie of the Somervilles.
8 Wishart's Memoirs, 8vo ed. 382. It ought also to be
mentioned, to the honour of this ancient and distinguished
burgh, that it afterwards refused the horrible honour of
having a limb of Montrose stuck up at its ports.--Father
Hay's Memoirs, ii. 388.
9. It might almost be said to have rather commenced at
Leith ; for Heath, in his “ Chronicle of the Late lntestine
War,” relates, that he was not allowed any better convey-
ance between that town and the capital, than a miserable
cart-horse.
10 Nichol's Diary, MS.
* Sentence of Parliament, Balfour's Annales, iv. 12.
NOTES, 323
12 Monteith's History of the Troubles, 512.
13 Monteith, who records this circumstance.—See Hist.
of the Troubles, 512.
14 This fact, which will hardly be credited in the pre-
sent age, and which is hardly credible, I state upon the
authority of a Tory pamphlet published since the Revolu-
tion.
15 Monteith, 512.
16 Wishart, 386.
17 Wishart, 386.
18 Balfour's Annales, iv. 14.
19 Wishart, 387.
20 Ravaillac Redivivus, apud Kirkton's Church His-
tory, note, 123.
21 Balfour's Annales, iv. 16. Relation of the Execution
of James Graham, London, 4to, 1650.-Account of the
Condemnation and Execution of the Marquis of Montrose,
apud Kirkton's Church History, note, 124. -
22 Wishart, 389.
23 Monteith, 514.
24 Balfour’s Annales, iv. 15.
25 Monteith, 514.
26 Whitelocke’s Memorials.
27 Balfour's Annales, iv. 13; where it is afterwards
added, that “he (Montrose) behaved all this time in the
house with a great deal of courage and modesty, unmoved
and undaunted, only he sighed two several times, and roll-
ed his eyes along all the corners of the house. At the read-
ing of his sentence he lifted up his face, without any word
speaking. He looked somewhat pale, lank-faced, and
hairy.”—P. 16.
28 Cardinal point.
29 The Whig historians think it not beneath them to
depreciate these impromptu verses ; and also the still su-
perior stanza on the death of the king ; but the opinion of
Voltaire may perhaps be allowed some weight in opposi-
tion to such distempered critics.-“Ce brave homme,”
says the philosopher of Geneva, “ dit à ses juges, qu'il
n’etait faché que de n'avoir pas assez de membres pour
etre attachés à toutes les portes des villes de l’Europe,
comme des monumens de sa fidelité pour son roi. Il nuit
même cette pensée en asseg beaua vers, en allant au sup-
plice.”—Essai sur l’Histoire Générale. - *
Whatever may be the poetical merit of Montrose's com-
i.
9
3.24. NOTES.
positions, it must be at least allowed that they are ex-
tremely characteristic of his own ardent and aspiring mind.
The following little poem, which, I believe, was never be-
fore printed, is perhaps the most characteristic of all his
compositions. It is copied from a Manuscript Collec-
tion of Scottish Poems and Pasquils, collected, about the
end of the seventeenth century, by Dr David Gregory, Sa-
vilian Professor at Oxford, and now in the possession of
John Gregory, Esq. Advocate, Edinburgh.
MONT ROSE ON HIS OWN CONDITION.
I would be high, but that the cedar tree
Is blustred down whilst smaller shrubs go frce.
I would be low, but that the lowly grass
Is trampled down by each unworthy ass.
For to be high, my means they will not doe;
And to be low, my mind it will not bow.
O Heavens ! O Fate when will you once agree,
To reconcile my means, my mind, and me 3
30 One of these persons being asked if nothing would
satisfy him but that he must torment the last hours of an
unfortunate man in the way he did, answered, that he knew
no other way to humble his proud spirit, and bring him to
God.—IIeath's Chronicle of the late Intestine War, folio,
263. -
51 Relation of the Execution of James Graham, Lon-
don, 1650.
32 Balfour's Annales, iv. 19, 20, 21, 22.
33 Montrose Redivivus, 182.
After hanging the three full hours decreed by parlia-
ment, Montrose's body was cut down, when, according to
Nichol, he fell upon his face, “mane being there to coun-
tenance him but the executioner and his men. His heid,
twa leggis, and twa armes,” continues the diarist, “ were
taken fra his body with ane aix, and sent away and fixed
at the places foresaid. His body cussen into ane little strait
kist, and taken to the burrowmure of Edinburgh, and bu-
ryet amang malefactors.”
“'Tis said that Argyle wept at the recital of his death
(for he was not present at the execution.) Howsoever, they
were by many called crocodile tears, how worthily I leave to
others' judgment. I am at least sure no such sign appeared
in his son Lord Lorn, who, having neither so much tender-
ness of heart as to be sorry, nor so much paternal wit as to
N OTES, 325
dissemble, entertained his new-made bride with this spec-
tacle, and mocked and laughed in the midst of that weeping
assembly. He even stayed to see him hewen in pieces, and
triumphed at every stroke which was bestowed upon his
mangled body.”—Montrose Redivivus.
The history of Montrose's various members is extremely
curious. His head was stuck, in obedience to the decree of
parliament, upon the pinnacle of what was then called the
New, but latterly the Old Tolbooth of Edinburgh ; and,
what was certainly remarkable, it was in immediate juxta-
position with the head of his mother's brother, the Earl of
Gowrie, which had been bleaching there for fifty years,
Some few days after it was put up, it was found necessary
to take some precautions for its security. “Because it was
rumoured among the pepill, that James Graham’s freindes
were secretlie intending to convey his heid off the prick
whereon it was set, on the Tolbuith of Edinburgh ; there-
fore, within sex dayis after his execution, there was ane new
croce prick appointit of yrne (iron), to croce the former
prick, whilk was speedilie done, that his heid might not be
removit nor taken away.”—Nichol's Diary.
His trunk, which was buried in the place where only the
most infamous criminals were executed, was afterwards
“digged up by night, and the linen in which it was wrapt
stolen away.”—Montrose Redivīvus. Lady Napier, the
wife of his near relation and dear friend, had contrived on
this occasion, by dint of a large sum of money, to procure
possession of his heart, which she enshrined in an urn, and
kept by her as a mournful memorial of affection and respect.
There is a portrait of her ladyship in the possession of her
descendant, the present Lord Napier, where she is repre-
sented with this interesting object by her side.—Note in
Mr Sharpe's edition of Kirkton’s Church History.
Nothing can be recorded regarding the other fragments
of his body, except that Charles the Second, on coming to
the country two months after, was frequently shocked by
the sight of these ghastly relics of his lieutenant-general and
faithful servant; which, however, no more than many other
personal annoyances, would his relentless governors suffer
him to evade. Sir Edward Walker tells us, in his “Jour-
mal of Transactions in Scotland during the year 1650,” that
When his Majesty stopt for a night at Aberdeen, on his way
from Speymouth (where he landed) to Edinburgh, he had
the pleasure of seeing next morning from his windows, a
VOL. II. 2 E \ 0
326 NOTES.
hand of Montrose sticking upon the front of the Tolbooth.
or Town-house, which happened to be directly opposite. It
was only when Scotland became subjected by a party which
had little interest in the matter—that of Cromwell—that the
various limbs stuck up throughout the country were per-
mitted to be taken down.
The gallows upon which Montrose had suffered was per-
mitted to stand in the public street for several weeks after
his execution, to frighten the malignants; [Father Hay's
Memoirs, iii. 388, and, within that time, several of his
most distinguished adherents perished beneath its fatal
beam; as Sir John Hurry, Captain Spottiswood, (grandson to
the Archbishop,) Sir Francis Hay of Dalgetty, Colonel Sib-
bald, and Captain Charteris, (a younger son of the ancient
family of Amisfield in Dumfries-shire.) These gentlemen,
however, were not put to death by suspension from the gal-
lows; it was the wish of the Estates, that Montrose should
be the only criminal of his time, whom history could point
out as having suffered that peculiarly ignominious death.
They were executed by the strange guillotine-like engine,
which the Regent Earl of Morton had introduced into Scot-
land, and which is still remembered by the epithet of “the
Maiden ;” an instrument, it may be mentioned, which, du-
ring the period of the civil war, was used for the punishment
of all sorts of capital offences, except witchcraft, and some
others of a peculiarly infamous nature, which were punished
by burning. It is related of Sir Francis Hay of Dalgetty,
who was a Roman Catholic, that, on approaching this dread
engine, he embraced and kissed it, with a gay allusion to its
curious metaphorical name.—Nichol's Diary. All the rest
of these unfortunate cavaliers submitted to their fate with
a similar degree of cheerfulness : like their illustrious ſel-
low-sufferer Montrose, they seemed inspired with a wish to
obtain, by the scorn with which they viewed the malicious
revenge of their enemies, a sort of counter-triumph over then
—to carry off, by the boldness and gallantry of their car-
riage, the merit which their condemnators calculated upon
obtaining from the crowd for their superior sanctity and pav
triotism. It is related of Captain Spottiswood, that, when
on his knees before the axe, he used the following brief but
emphatic prayer, “Oh Lord, who hath been graciously
pleased to bring me through the wilderness of this world, I
trust that you will now waft me over this sea of blood to
thy heavenly Canaan;” on which a minister, who stood be-
R
NOTES. 327
side him, judged it his duty to give him this admonitory
hint: “Tak tent, tak tent, sir, that ye droun not by the
gate (way) l’” Spottiswood, with the utmost coolness, Të-
plied, “I hope, sir, I am not an Egyptian ;” and his tor-
mentor shrunk abashed into the crowd.—Relation of the Fu-
neral of Montrose.
The dispersed fragments of Montrose's body were collect-
ed together, after the Restoration, and honoured with a
grand public funeral, at the expense of King Charles the
Second. It was remarked of this affair, as a thing unex-
ampled at any former funeral, that the relations of the de-
ceased and other mourners wore faces radiant with joy and
triumph, while many of the attendant crowd viewed the
procession with feelings precisely the reverse. Argyle, who
was confined in Edinburgh castle at the time, in expecta-
tion of the fate he so richly merited, had his ears lacerated
by the shots which proclaimed from around his dungeon,
the honours done in the town below to the remains of his
rival. The funeral procession, which was more splendid
than any former procession had ever been in Scotland, even
at the riding of its parliaments, or at the coronation of its
kings, extended from the chapel-royal at Holyrood-house,
where the fragments of the body had been collected, to the
Old Church of St Giles, where it was deposited in the se-
pulchral aisle of the Montrose family, beside the grave of
the Marquis's grandfather, who had at one time been Vice-
roy of Scotland.
34 Wishart, 400.
35 Sutherland Memoirs, 556.
36 Montrose Redivivus, 185.
CHAP. XII.—CHARLEs II.'s RESIDENCE IN
SCOT LAND.
1 Burton's History of the Wars in England, Scotland,
and Ireland. Quarto edition, p. 180.
* Sir Edward Walker's Journal of Affairs in Scotland,
1650, p. 160.
& Clarendon, folio, iii.286.
* Burnet's History of his own Times, i. 52.
* Sir Edward Walker's Journal, 161.
6 Sir Edward Walker, 195.
7 History of his own Times, i. 53.
* Dugdale's short View of the Troubles, folio, 401.
328 - NOTES.
Jockey was still the slang phrase in England for Scotland
and its people. :
9 Ludlow's Memoirs, 125.
10 Whitehocke, 450.
Il Perfect Weekly Account, July 10 to 17.
1% Whitelocke, 451 ; where it is added, that all inhabi-
tants of the country over which Cromwell passed, had car-
ried away all their goods and household stuff, except a few
oats and meal, and a little beer, hid under the coals, which
the soldiers made use of.
13 Perfect Diurnal, July 22 to 29.
14 Whitelocke, 451.
15 Memoirs, MS. ii. 391.
16 Sir Edward Walker's Journal, 165.
17 Whitelocke, 451.
18 Whitelocke, 451.
º Sev. Proc. in Parl. Aug. 1 to 8. Apud Cromwelliana,
. 87. .
p 20 Annales, iv. 87.
21 Whitelocke, 483. This author further informs us,
that Cromwell was so generous as to distribute pease and
wheat to the value of two hundred and forty pounds among
the starving inhabitants of Dunbar. This author also
gives a fact, which may well strike a Scotsman of the
present day with surprise. “The women of Dunbar,” he
says, “are so sluttish, that they do not wash their linen
above once a-month, nor their hands and faces above once
a-twelvemonth !” Nothing, perhaps, could attest in a live-
lier manner to the senses of a stranger, the difference be-
tween Scotland in 1650 and Scotland in 1828, than the
strong contrast between this shocking picture of a former
generation of the ladies of Dunbar, and what he would see
if he were to visit this interesting and thriving old burgh
at the present day. i
22 True Relation of the Transactions of the Army in
Scotland, published by authority. London, 1650.
23 Somerville, in his “Memorie of the Somervilles.”
24 Burnet's Own Times, i. 54.
25 Whitelocke, 455.
26 Ibid. 456.
27 Letter from himself to Lenthall, the speaker, dated
from Dunbar, the day after the battle—apud “Cromwel-
liana,” p. 89.
28 Burmet's Own Times, i. 54.
NOTES. - 329
29 A small mound, called Cromwell's Mount, is shown
about fifty yards to the west of Broxmouth House, as the
place where he stood when surveying the descent of the
Scots from Doon Hill. -
30 Burnet, i. 54.
31 Cromwell’s Letter to Lenthall.
32 Stapleton's Letter, descriptive of the battle of Wor-
cester.—Cromwelliana.
55 Whitelocke, 455.
34 Burnet’s Own Times, i. 55.
5 Psalm lxviii. 1.
50 “The day before we fought, they did express so
much insolency and contempt of us to some soldiers they
took, as was beyond apprehension.”—Letter of Cromwell
to the Lord President of the Council of State, Cromwel-
liana, 91. Whitelocke adds, that it was the ministers who
chiefly taunted the English prisoners.
37 This gentleman seems to have been killed at Brox-
mouth, as a stone is still shown in the shrubbery around
that house, bearing his name in very legible letters, and
said to mark his grave.
38 The following letter, written to his wife, although it
contains no historical information, is worthy of being print-
ed, as some of its expressions are extremely characteristic
of the writer. It is copied from the manuscript collections
in the British Museum :—
“ Dunbar, 4th September, 1650.
“My Dearest,
“I have not leasure to write much, but I could chide
thee, that in many of thy letters thou writest to me, that I
should not be unmindful of thee and my little ones. Truly,
if I love you not too well, I think I err not on the other
hand much. Thou art dearer to me than any creature;
let that suffice. The Lord hath showed us an exceeding
mercy. Who can tell how great it is ? My weak faith hath
been upheld. I have been in my inward man miracu-
lously supported. I assure thee I grow an old man, and
feel infirmities of age marvellously stealing upon me.
Would my corruptions did as fast decrease. Pray on my
behalf in the latter respect. The particulars of our late
success, Henry Vane or Gil. Pickering will impart to thee.
My love to all our dear friends.
“Thine,
“ O. CROM W ELL.”
3.
330 NOTES.
*
CHAP. XIII.-concLUSION.
See Peck’s Memoirs of Cromwell, 4to, 1733.
Sir Edward Walker's Journal, 182, 183.
Sir Edward Walker. -
See “A Word of Advertisement and Advice to the
Godly in Scotland,” 4to. Edinburgh, 1651.
Whitelocke, 512.
THE END.
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