X I ."• '.'// 13(3/. / JAICES GKAHAM.MARQUrS OF MONTROSE. HISTORY OF .^COTX.AIfI]). VOli , I FM JSr T1B]D J^-O^iL T¥ M J3 X^itL ©IK § S , IBW TALES OF A GRANDFATHER, BEING STORIES TAKEN FROM SCOTTISH HISTORY. HUMBLY INSCRIBED TO HUGH LITTLEJOHN, Es^. IN TWO VOLS. VOL. I. BY SIR WALTER SCOTT, AUTHOR OP " WAVERLEY," &C. &C. PUBLISHED BY J. & B. WILLIAMS. 1833. DEDICATION. TO HUGH I.ITTI.EJOHJV, ES^. My dear Child, I NOW address to you two volumes of Scottish Stories, v/liich brings down the His- tory of that Country, from the period when England and Scotland became subject to the same King, until that of the Union, when they were finally united mto one Kingdom. That you, and children of your age, may read these little books with pleasure and improvement, is the desire and hope of. My dearest Child, Your very affectionate Grandfather, WALTER SCOTT. AUotsford, 15iA October, 1828. *^ -JL. -*^ v_* -iJ CONTENTS. Page Dedication^ 3 CHAP. I. Progress of Civilization in Society, - - - 9 CHAP, H. Infirmities and ill tempei of Elizabeth in her latter years — Accession of James VI. acceptable on that account to the English — Resort of Scotsmen to the Court at London — Quarrels between them and the English — Duelling — Duel of Stewart and Whar- ton — Attempt by Sir Jolin Ayros to assassinate Lord Herbert — Murder of Turner, a Fencing- Master, by two Pages of Lord Sanquhar, and Execution of the three Murderers — Statute against Stabbing, 29 CHAP. HL Attempt of James to reduce the Institutions of Scot- land to a state of Uniformity with those of Eng- land — Commissioners appointed to effect this — the Project fails — Distinctions between the Forms of Church Government in the two Countries — Intro- duction of Episcopacy into the Scottish Church — Five Articles of Perth — Dissatisfaction of the Peo- ple with these Innovations, - - - - 51 CHAP. IV. Disorderly State of the Borders — Characteristic Example of Border Match-making — Deadly Feud between the Maxwells and Johnstones — Battle of 1* CONTENTS. Page DryfFe Sands — James's power of enforcing the Laws increased after his accession to the English Throne — Measures for restraining the Border Marauders — The Clan Graham removed from the Debateable Land to Ulster in Ireland — Levies of Soldiers to serve i)i Foreign Parts — Mutual Bonds among the Chiefs for the Preservation of good order — Severe Prosecution of offenders — The Town of Bervi'ick-upon-Tweed an Independent Jurisdiction, 06 CHAP. V. Wild state of the Western Lslands — Suffocation of the Inhabitants of Eigg, by filling a cave, in which they had concealed themselves, with smoke — Story of Ailan-a-Sop — Dreadful Death by Thirst — Massacre of Lovvlanders, who had made a Settlement in Lewis and Harris — The whole Western Isles, excepting Skye and Lev/is, offered for SOOI. to the Marqiiis of Huntly, who refuses to purchase them at that sum, • - 81 CHAP. VI. Contempt of the Highlanders for the Arts of Peace — Story of Donald of the Hammer — Execution of the Laird of Macintosh by order of the Marchion- ess of Huntly — Massacre of the Farquharsons — Race of the Trough — Execution of the Earl of Orkney, 97 CHAP. VII. Injurious Effects to Scotland of the Removal of the Court to London — Numerous Scotsmen employed in Foreign Military Service — and as Travelling Merchants, or Packmen, in Germany — Exertions of the Presbyterian Clergy to put an end to Fa- mily Feuds, and to extend Education — Establish- ment, by their means, of Parochial Schools — James VI.'s Visit to Scotland in 1017— his Death— his Children, 115 CONTENTS. Page CHAP. VTII. Discontents excited during James's Reign — in- creased under Charles — Introduction of the Eng- lish Liturgy into the Scottish Church — National Covenant — The Scottish Army enters England — Concessions of the King to the Long Parliament, upon which the Scottish Army returns home — Charles visits Scotland, and gains over the Mar- quis of Montrose to the Royal Cause — The Two Parties of Cavaliers and Roundheads — Arrest of the Five Members of the House of Commons — Civil War in England, 128 CHAP. IX. A Scottish Army sent to assist that of the English Parliament — Montrose takes advantage of their Absence, and, being joined by a Body of Irishmen, raises the Royal Standard in Scotland — Battle of Tippermuir, and Surrender of Perth — Affair at the Bridge of Dee, and Sack of Perth — Close of the Campaign, ...... 158 CHAP. X. Invasion of Argyle's Country by Montrose — Battles of Inverlochy, Aulderne, Alford, and Kilsyth, gained by Montrose, who, by the Victory at Kil- Bjth, becomes Master of Scotland — He is appoint- ed Captain-General and Lieutenant-Governor of Scotland — marches upon the Borders — is defeated by Lesley at Philiphaugh — retires to the High- lands, and leaves Scotland, .... 180 CHAP. XI. Interference of the Presbyterian Clergy to procure the Execution of the Prisoners taken at Philip- haugh — Reflections on the Unhappy Effects of Religious Persecution — Respective Views of the Independents and Presbyterians — Cromwell's Suc- cess — King Charles's Surrender to the Scottish Army — Their Surrender of him to the English Parliament, 201 Vlll (ONTKNTS. Page CHAP. XII. The King taken Prisoner by the English Army and placed in the Palace of Hampton Court — His Es- cape to the Isle of Wight, and Imprisonment in Carisbrook Castle — Treaty with the Scots, known by the name of The Enoagement — The Engagers enter England with an Army, and are Defeated — High Court of Justice appointed to try the King — the Trial — Execution of Charles I. - - 224 CHAP. XIII. Montrose makes a Descent upon the Highlands, is taken Prisoner, and Executed — Charles II. being declared King, arrives in Scotland — Cromwell's Invasion of Scotland — Battle of Dunbar — Corona- tion of Charles II. — He takes the Command of the Army, marches into England, is Defeated at Worcester, and Escapes abroad — War in Scotland under General Monk — Cromwell makes himself Lord Protector of the Republics of Great Britain and Ireland — Glencairn"^ Rising — Exploits of Evan Dhu, of Lochiel, Chief of the Camerons, 244 CHAP. XIV. Administration of Public .Tustice in Scotland, under Cromwell — Heavy Taxes imposed by him — Church AfFairs-^Resolutionists and Remonstra- tors— Trials for Witchcraft, - - - 290 CHAP. XV. Cromwell's System of Government — his Death — Richard Cromwell's Ascension to the Protectorate, and Retirement from it — Anecdotes of him — Ge- neral Monk's Advance to London — Dissolution of the Long Parliament — Sir John Grenville's Inter- view with Monk, and Proposal for the Recall of the Exiled Stewarts — The Restoration — Arrival of Charles II. at Dover, - - - - 310 TALES OF A GRANDFATHER, SECOND SERIES. CHAP. I. Progress of Civilization in Society. The kind reception which the former Tales, written for your amusement and edification, have met with, induces me, my dear little boy, to make an attempt to bring down my histori- ' cal narrative to a period, when the union of England and Scotland became as complete, in the intimacy of feelings and interests, as law had declared and intended them to be, and as the mutual advantage of both countries had long, though in vain, required. We left off, you may recollect, when James, the sixth of that name who reigned in Scotland, succeeded, by the death of Queen Elizabeth, to the throne of England, and thus became Sovereign of the whole Island of Britain. Ire- land also belonged to his dominions, having been partly subdued by the arms of the English, and partly surrendered to them by the submis- sion of the natives. There had been, during 10 PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION. Elizabeth's time, many wars with the native Lords and Chiefs of the country ; but the EngUsh finally obtained the undisturbed and undisputed possession of that rich and beautiful island. Thus the three kingdoms, formed by the Bri- tannic Islands, came into the possession of one Sovereign, who was thus fixed in a situation of strength and security, which was at that time the lot of few monarchs in Europe. King James's power was the greater, that the progress of human society had greatly aug- mented the wisdom of his statesmen and coun- sellors, and given strength and stability to those laws which preserve the poor and helpless against the encroachments of the wealthy and the powerful. But Master Littlejohn may ask me what I mean by the Progress of Human Society; and it is my duty to explain it as intelligibly as I can. If you consider the lower order of animals, such as birds, dogs, cattle, or any class of the brute creation, you will find that they are, to every useful purpose, deprived of the means of communicating their ideas to each other. They have cries indeed, by which they express plea- sure or pain — fear or hope — but they have no formed speech by which, like men, they can converse together. God Almighty, who called all creatures into existence in such manner as best pleased him, has imparted to those inferior animals no power of improving their situation, or of commmunicating with each other. PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION. H There is, no doubt, a difference in the capa- city of these inferior classes of creation. But though one bird may build her nest more neat- ly than one of a different class, or one dog may be more clever and more capable of learning tricks than another, yet, as it v/ants langiiage to explain to its comrades the advantages which it may possess, its knowledge dies with it; thus birds and dogs continue to use the same general habits proper to the species, which they have done since the creation of the world. In other words, animals have a certain degree of sense which is termed instinct, which teaches them to seek their food, and provide for their safety and comfort, in nearly the same manner as their parents did before them since the beginning of time, but does not enable them to communicate to their successors any improvements, or to derive any increase of knowledge. Thus you may remark, that the example of the swallow, the wren, and other birds, which cover their nests with a roof to protect them against the rain, is never imitated by other classes, who .have continued to construct theirs in the same exposed and imperfect manner since the begin- ning of the world. Another circumstance, which is calculated to prevent the inferior animals from rising above the rank which they are designed to hold, is the short time during which they remain under the care of their parents. A few weeks gives the young nestlings of every season, strength and inclination to leave the protection of the parents ; the tender attachment which has sub- 12 PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION. sisted while the young bird was unable to pro- vide for itself without assistance is entirely broken off, and in a week or two more they probably do not know each other. The young of the sheep, the cow, and the horse, attend and feed by the mother's side for a certain short period, during which they are protected by her care, and supported by her milk ; but they have no sooner attained the strength necessary to defend themselves, and the sense to provide for their wants, than they separate from the mother, and all intercourse between the parent and her offspring is closed for ever. Thus each separate tribe of animals retains exactly the same station in the general order of the universe which was occupied by its pre- decessors ; and no existing generation either is, or can be, either much better instructed, or more ignorant, than that which preceded or that which is to come after it. It is widely different with mankind. God, as we are told in Scripture, was pleased to make man after his own image. By this you are not to understand that the Creator of heaven and earth has any visible form or shape, to which the human body bears a resemblance ; but the meaning is, that as the God who created the world is a spirit invisible and incomprehensible, so he joined to the human frame some portion of an essence resembling his own, which is call- ed the human soul, and which, while the body lives, continues to animate and direct its mo- tions, and on the dissolution of the bodily form PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION'. 13 which it has occupied, returns to the spiritual world, to be answerable for the good and evil of its works upon earth. It is therefore impossible, that man, possess- ing this knowledge of right and wrong, proper to a spiritual essence resembling those higher orders of creation whom we call angels, and having some affinity, though at an incalculable distance, to the essence of the Deity himself, should have been placed under the same limita- tions in point of progressive improvement with the inferior tribes, who are neither responsible for the actions which they perform under direc- tion of their instinct, nor capable, by any exer- tion of their own, of altering or improving their condition in the scale of creation. So far is this from being the case with man, that the bodily organs of the human frame bear such a corres- pondence with the properties of his soul as to give him the means, when they are properly used, of enlarging his powers, and becoming wiser and more skilful from hour to hour, as long as his life permits ; and not only is this the case, but tribes and nations of men, assembled together for the purpose of mutual protection and defence, have the same power of alteration and improvement, and may, if circumstances are favourable, go on by gradual steps from being a wild horde of naked barbarians till they be- come a powerful and civilized people. The capacity of amending our condition by increase of knowledge, which, in fact, affords the means by which man rises to be the lord of creation, is grounded on the human race pos- VOL I. 2 11 PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATIOX. sessing those advantages which he alone enjoys. Let us look somewhat closely mto this, my dear boy, for it involves some truths equally curious and important. If man, though possessed of the same immor tal essence or soul, which enables him to choose and refuse, to judge and condemn, to reason and conclude, were to be void of the power of communicating the conclusions to which his reasoning had conducted him, it is clear that the progress of each individual in knoAvledge, could be only in proportion to his own observa- tion and his own powers of reasoning. But the gift of speech enables any one to communicate to others whatever idea of im- provement occurs to him, which, instead of dying in the bosom of the individual by whom it was first thought of, becomes a part of the stock of knowledge proper to the whole com- munity, which is increased and rendered gene- rally and effectually useful by the accession of further information, as opportunities occur, or men of reflecting and inventive minds arise in the state. This use of spoken language, there- fore, which so gloriously distinguishes man from the beasts that perish, is the primary means of introducing and increasing knowledge in infant communities. Another early cause of the improvement of human society is the incapacity of children to act for themselves, rendering the attention and protection of parents to their ofispring neces- sary for so long a period. Even where the food which the earth affords without cultivation. PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION. 15 such as fruits and herbs, is most plentifully supplied, children remain too helpless for many years to be capable of gathering it, and provid- ing for their own support. This is still more the case where food has to be procured by hunt- ing, fishing, or cultivating the soil, occupations requiring a degree of skill and personal strength, which children cannot possess until they are twelve or fourteen years old. It follows, as a law of nature, that instead of leaving their parents at an early age, like the young birds or quadrupeds, the youth of the human species necessarily remain under the protection of their father and mother for many years, during which they acquire all the know- ledge the parents have to teach. It arises also from this wise arrangement, that the love and affection between the offspring and the parents, which am^ong the brute creation is the produce of mere instinct, and continues for a very short time, becomes in the human raqe a deep and permanent feeling, founded on the attachment of the parents, the gratitude of the children, and the eflect of long habit on both. For these reasons, it usually happens, that children feel no desire to desert their parents, but remain inhabitants of the same huts in which they were born, and take up the task of labour- ing for subsistence in their turn. One or two such families gradually unite together, and avail themselves of each otlier's company for mutual defence and assistance. This is the earliest stage of human society, and some sa- ILages have been found in this condition so very 10 PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION. rude and ignorant, that they may be said to be little Aviser or better than a herd of animals. The natives of New South Wales, for exam- ple, are, even at present, in the very lowest scale of humanity, and ignorant of every art which can add comfort or decency to human life. These unfortunate savages use no clothes, construct no cabins or huts, and are ignorant even of the manner of chasing animals or catch- ing fish, unless such of the latter as are left by the tide, or which are found on the rocks ; they feed upon the most disgusting substances, snakes, worms, maggots, and whatever trash falls in their way. They know indeed how to kindle a fire — in that respect only they have stepped beyond the deepest ignorance to which man can be subjected — but they have not learn- ed how to boil water ; and when they see Eu- ropeans perform this ordinary operation, they have been known to run away in great terror. Voyagers tell us of other savages who do not even know the use of fire, and who maintain a miserable existence by subsisting on shell-fish eaten raw. And yet, my dear boy, out of this miserable and degraded state, which seems worse than that of the animals, man has the means and power to rise into the high place for which Pro- vidence hath destined him. In proportion as opportunities occur, these savage tribes ac- quire the arts of civilized life ; they construct huts to shelter them against the weather ; they invent arms for destroying the wild beasts by which they are annoyed, and for kilMntr thos«» PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION. 17 whose flesh is adapted for food ; and they plant fruit-trees and sow grain as soon as they disco- ver that the productions of nature most neces- sary for their comfort may be increased by la- bour and industry. Thus, the progress of human society, unless it is interrupted by some unfortunate circumstances, continues to advance, and every new genera- tion, without losing any of the advantages al- ready attained, goes on to acquire others which were unknown to the preceding one. For instance, when three or four wandering families of savages have settled in one place, and begun to cultivate the ground, and collect their huts into a hamlet or village, they usually agree in choosing sorrie chief to be their judge and the arbiter of their disputes in time of peace, their leader and captain when they go to war with other tribes. This is the foundation of a monarchial government. Or, perhaps, their public affairs are directed by a council or se- nate, of the oldest and wisest of the tribe — this is the origin of a republican state. At all events, in one w^ay or other, they put themselves under something resembling a regular government, and obtain the protection of such laws as may prevent them from quarrelling with one another. Other important alterations are introduced by time. At first, no doubt, the members of the community store their fruits and the pro- duce of the chase in common. But shortly af- ter, reason teaches them that the individual who has bestowed labour and trouble upon any 2* l!!^ PKOCKESS OF CIVILIZATION. thing SO as to render it productive, acquires a right of property, as it is called, in the produce, which his eflbrts have in a manner called into existence. Thus, it is soon acknowledged, that he who has planted a tree has the sole right of consuming its fruit ; and that he who has sown a lield of corn has the exclusive title to gather in the grain. Without the labour of the planter and husbandman, there would have been no ap- ples or wheat, and therefore these are justly- entitled to the fruit of their labour. In like manner, the state itself is conceived to acquire a right of property in the fields cul- tivated by its members, and in the forests where they have of old practised the rights of hunting and fishing. If men of a different tribe enter on the territory of a neighbouring nation, war ensues between them, and peace is made by agreeing on both sides to reasonable conditions. Thus a young state extends its possessions; and by its communications with other tribes lays the foundation of public laws for the regulation of their behaviour to each other in peace and in war. Other arrangements no less important are produced, tending to increase the difference be- tween mankind in their wild and original state, and that which they assume in the progress of civilization. One of the most remarkable is the se[)aration of the citizens into different classes of society, and the introduction of the use of money. I will try to render these great changes intelUgible to you. in the earlier stages of society, every member PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION. 19 of the community may be said to supply all his wants by his own personal labour. He acquires his food by the chase — he sows and reaps his own grain — lie gathers his own fruit — he cuts the skin which forms his dress so as to fit his own person — he makes the sandals or buskins which protect his feet. He is, therefore, better or worse accommodated exactly in proportion to the personal skill and industry which he can apply to that purpose. But it is discovered, in process of time, that one man has particular dexterity in hunting, be- ing, we shall suppose, young, active, and enter- prising; another, older and of a more staid cha- racter, has peculiar skill in tilling the ground, or in managing cattle and flocks ; a third, lame perhaps, or infirm, has a happy talent for cutting out and stitching together garments, or for shaping and sewing such shoes as are worn. It becomes, therefore, for the advantage of all, that the first shall attend to nothing but hunt- ing, the second confine himself to the cultiva- tion of the land, and the third remain at home to make clothes and shoes. But then it follows, as a necessary conse- quence, that the huntsman must give to the man who cultivates the land a part of his venison and skins, if he desires to have grain of which to make bread, or a cow to furnish his family with milk ; and tliat both the hunter and the agriculturist must give a share of the produce of the chase, and a proportion of the grain, to the third man, to obtain from him clothes and shoes. Each is thus accommodated with what 20 PROGRESS 01" CIVILIZATION. he wants, a great deal better, and more easily, by every one folloAving a separate occupation, than they could possibly have been, had each of the three been hunter, farmer, and tailor, in his own person, practising tv/o of the trades awkwardly and unwillingly, instead of confining himself to that which he perfectly understands, and pursues with success. This mode of ac- commodation is called barter, and is the earliest kind of traffic by which men exchange their property with each other, and satisfy their wants by parting with their superfluities. But in process of time, barter is found incon- venient. The husbandman, perhaps, has no use for shoes when the shoemaker is in need of corn, or the shoemaker may not want furs or venison when the hunter desires to have shoes. To remedy this, almost all nations have intro- duced the use of what is called money; that is to say, they have fixed on some particular sub- stance capable of being divided into small por- tions, which, ha^ ing itself no intrinsic value, is nevertheless received as a representative of the value of all commodities. Particular kinds of shells are used as money in some countries ; in others, leather, cloth, or iron, are employed ; but gold and silver, divided into small portions, are used for this important purpose almost all over the world. That you may understand the use of this circulating representative of the value of com- modities, and comprehend the convenience which it afibrds, let us suppose that the hunter, as we formerly said, wanted a pair of shoes, and PKOCKESJS OF CIVILIZATION. 21 the shoemaker had no occasion for venison, but wanted some corn, while the husbandman, not desiring to have shoes, was in need of some other commodity. Here are three men, each desirous of some article of necessity, or convenience, which he cannot obtain by barter, because the party whom he has to deal with does not want the commodity which he has to offer. But sup- posing the use of money introduced, and its va- lue acknowledged, these three persons are ac- commodated by means of it in the amplest man- ner possible. The shoemaker does not want the venison which the hunter offers for sale, but some other man in the village is willing to purchase it for five pieces of silver — the hunter sells his com- modity, and goes to the shoemaker, who, though he would not barter the shoes for the venison, which he did not want, readily sells them for the money, and, going with it to the farmer, buys from him the quantity of corn he needs ; while the farmer, in his turn, purchases what- ever he is in want of, or if he requires nothing at the time, lays the pieces of money aside, to use when he has occasion. The invention of money is followed by the gradual rise of trade. There are men who make it their business to buy various articles, and sell them again for profit, that is, they sell them somewhat dearer than they bought them. This is convenient for all parties, since the ori- ginal proprietors are willing to sell their commo- dities to those store-keepers, or shop-keepers, at 22 PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION. *'-' a low rate, to be saved the trouble of hawking them about in search of a customer ; while the public in general are equally willing to buy from such intermediate dealers, because they are sure to be immediately supplied with what they want. The numerous transactions occasioned by the introduction of money, together with other circumstances, soon destroy the equality of ranks which prevails in an early stage of so- ciety. Some men become rich, and hire the assistance of others to do their work ; some are poor, and sink into the capacity of servants. Some men are wise and skilful, and, distin- guishing themselves by their exploits in battle and their counsels in peace, rise to the manage- ment of public affairs. Others, and much greater numbers, have no more valour than to follow where they are led, and no more talent than to <;ct as they are commanded. These last sink, as a matter of course, into obscurity, while the others become generals and states- men. The attainment of learning tends also to in- crease the difference of ranks. Those who receive a good education by the care of their parents, or possess so much strength of mind and readiness of talent as to educate them- selves, become separated from the more igno- rant of the community, and form a distinct class and condition of their own ; and hold no more communication with the others than is absolutely necessary. In this way the whole order of society is changed, and instead of pre- senting the uniform appearance of one large PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION. 23 family, each member of which has nearly the same rights, it seems to resemble a confederacy or association of different ranks, classes, and conditions of men, each rank filling up a cer- tain department in society, and discharging a class of duties totally distinct from those of the others. The steps by which a nation advances fro,m the natural and simple state which we have just described, into the more complicated system in which ranks are distinguished from each other, are called the progress of society, or of civiliza- tion. It is attended, like all things human, with much of evil as well as good; but it seems to be a law of our moral nature, that, faster or slower, such alterations must take place, in consequence of the inventions and improve- ments of succeeding generations of mankind. Another alteration, .productive of conse- quences not less important, arises out of the gradual progress towards civilization. In the early state of society, every man in the tribe is a warrior, and liable to serve as such when the country requires his assistance ; but in pro- gress of time the pursuit of the military art is, at least on all ordinary occasions, confined to bands of professional soldiers, whose business it is to fight the battles of the state, when re- quired, in consideration of which they are paid by the community, the other members of which are thus left to the uninterrupted pursuit of their own peaceful occupations. This alteration is attended with more important consequences than we can at present pause to enumerate. ^ PROGRTSS OF CIVILIZATION. We have said that those mighty changes which bring men to dwell in castles and cities instead of huts and caves, and enable them to cultivate the sciences and subdue the elements, instead of being plunged in ignorance and su- perstition, are owing primarily to the reason with which God has graciously endowed the human race ; and in a second degree to the power of speech, by which we can communicate to each other the result of our own reflections. But it is evident that society, when its ad- vance is dependent on oral tradition alone, must be liable to many interruptions. The imagination of the speaker, and the dulness or want of comprehension of the hearer, may lead to many errors ; and it is generally found that knowledge makes but very slow progress imtil the art of writing is discovered, by which a fixed, accurate, and substantial form can be given to the wisdom of past ages. When this noble art is attained, there is a sure foundation laid for the preservation and increase of know- ledge. The record is removed from the inac- curate recollection of the aged, and placed in a safe, tangible, and imperishable form, which may be subjected to the inspection of various persons, until the sense is completely explain- ed and comprehended, with the least possible chance of doubt or uncertainty. By the art of writing, a barrier is fixed against those violent changes so apt to take place in the early stages of society, by wliich all the fruits of knowledge are frequently destroyed, as those of the earth are by a hurricane. Sup- PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATIOX. 25 pose, for example, a case which frequently happens in the early history of mankind, that some nation which has made considerable pro- gress in the arts, is invaded and subdued by another which is more powerful and numerous, though more ignorant than themselves. It is clear that in this case, as the rude and ignorant victors would set no value on the knowledge of the vanquished, it would, if intrusted only to the memory of the individuals of the con- quered people, be gradually lost and forgotten. But if their useful discoveries were recorded in writing, the manuscripts in which they were described, though they might be neglected for a season, would, if preserved at all, probably attract attention at some more fortunate period. It was thus that, when the empire of Rome, having reached the utmost period of its gran- deur, was broken down and conquered by nu- merous tribes of ignorant though brave barba- rians, those admirable works of classical learning, on which such value is justly placed in the present day, were rescued from total de- struction and oblivion by manuscript copies preserved by chance in the old libraries of churches and convents. It may indeed be taken as an almost infallible maxim, that no nation can make any great progress in useful knowledge or civilization, until their improve- ment can be rendered stable and permanent by the invention of writing. Another discovery, however, almost as im portant as that of writing, was made during the fifteenth century. I mean the invention of VOL. I. 3 26 PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION. printing. Writing with the hand must be al- ways a slow, difficult, and expensive operation ; and when the manuscript is finished, it is per- haps laid aside among the stores of some great library, where it may be neglected by students, and must, at any rate, be accessible to very few persons, and subject to be destroyed by nume- rous accidents. But the admirable invention of printing enables the artist to make a thou- sand copies from the original manuscript, by having them stamped upon paper, in far less time and with less expense than it would cost to make half a dozen such copies with a pen. From the period of this glorious discovery, knowledge of every kind might be said to be brought out of the darkness of cloisters and universities, where it was known only to a few scholars, into the broad light of day, where its treasures were accessible to all men. The Bible itself, in which we find the rules of eternal life, as well as a thousand lessons for our conduct in this world, was, before the invention of printing, totally inaccessible to all, save the priests of Rosne, who found it their interest to discourage the perusal of the Scrip- tures by any save their own order, and thus screened from discovery those alterations and corruptions, which the inventions of ignorant and designing men had introduced into the beautiful simplicity of the gospel. But when, by means of printing, the copies of the Bible became so numerous, that every one, above the most wretched poverty, could, at a cheap price, possess himself of a copy of the blessed rule PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION. 27 ' ■ ' ^ of life, there was a general appeal from the errors and encroachments of the Church of Rome, to the Divine Word on which they pro- fessed to be founded ; a treasure formerly con- cealed from the public, but now placed within the reach of every man, whether of the clergy or laity. The consequence of these inquiries, which printing alone could have rendered prac- ticable, was the rise of the happy Reformation of the Christian church. The same noble art rnaue knowledge of a temporal kind as accessible as that which con- cerned religion. Whatever works of history, science, morality, or entertainment, seemed likely to instruct or amuse the reader, were pi[^ted ^nd distributed among the people at large by printers and booksellers, who had a proiit by doing so. Thus the possibility of im portant discoveries being forgotten in the course* of years, or of the destruction of useful arts, or elegant literature, by the loss of the re- cords in which they are preserved, was in a great measure removed. In a word, the printing-press is a contri- vance which enables any one individual to ad- dress his whole fellovr-subjects on any topic v/hicli he thinks important, and Avhich enables a v/iiole nation to listen to the voice of such in- dividual, however obscure, with the same ease and greater certainty of understanding what he says, tlian if a chief of Indians were haranguing the tribe at his council-fire. Nar is the import- ant difierence to be forgotten, that the orator >, 1^ which it was not his good fortune to leave it. With this view he proposed, that the Legisla- ture of both nations should appoint Commis- sioners, to consider the terms on M'hich it might be possible to unite them under the same con- stitution. With some difficulty on both sides. AT THE ACCESSION OF JAMES. 57 the Parliament of England was prevailed on to name forty-four Commissioners, while the Scottish Parliament apj^ointed thirty-six, to consider this important subject. The very first conference showed how im- possible* it was to accomplish the desired ob- ject, until time should have removed or soften- ed those prejudices on both sides, which had long existed during the state of separation and hostility betwixt the two nations. The English Commissioners demanded, as a preliminary sti- pulation, that the whole system of English law should be at once extended to Scotland. The Scots rejected the proposal with disdain, justly alleging, that nothing less than absolute con- quest by force of arms could authorize the sub- jection of an independent nation to the customs and laws of a foreign country. The treaty, therefore, was in a great degree shipwrecked at the very commencement — the proposal for the union was suffered to fall asleep, and the King had the disadvantage of having excited the suspicions and fears of the Scottish lawyers, who had been threatened with the total de struction of their profession. And the profes- sion of the law, which must be influential in every government, was particularly so in Scot land, as it was chiefly practised by the sons of the higher class of gentry. Though in a great measure disappointed in his measures for eflecting a general union and correspondence of laws between the two na- tions, James remained extremely desirous to obtain at least an ecclesiastical co-nf{)rnriidc of the Sound." Having said thus much, the STORY OF ALLAN-A-SOP. 91 pirate got on board, and commanding his men to unmoor the galleys, sailed back to Torloisk, and prepared to land in arms. His father-in- law hastened to meet him, in expectation to hear of the death of his enemy, Mac-Kinnon. But Allan greeted him in a very different man- ner from what he expected. " You hoary old traitor," he said, " you instigated my simple good-nature to murder a better man than your- self. But have you forgotten how you scorch- ed my fingers twenty years ago, with a burn- ing cake ? The day is come that that break- fast must be paid for." So saying, he dashed out his father-in-law's brains with a battle-axe, took possession of his castle and property, and established there a distinguished branch of the clan of MacLean. It is told of another of these western chiefs, who is said, upon the whole, to have been a kind and good-natured man, that he was sub- jected to repeated risk and injury by the treach- ery of an ungrateful nephew, who attempted to surprise his castle, in order to put his uncle to death, and obtain for himself the command of the tribe. Being detected on the first occasion, and brought before his uncle as a prisoner, the chief dismissed him unharmed ; with a warn- ing, however, not to repeat the offence, since, if he did so, he would cause him to be put to a death so fearful that all Scotland should ring with it. The wicked young man persevered, and re- newed his attempts against his uncle's castle and life. Falling a second time into the hands 92 DREADFUL DEATH BY THIRST. of the offended chieftain, the prisoner had rea- son to term him as good as his word. He was confined in the pit, or dungeon of the castle, a deep vault, to which there was no access, save through a hole in the roof. He was left with- out food, till his appetite grew voracious ; the more so, as he had reason to apprehend that it was intended to starve him to death. But the vengeance of his uncle was of a more refined character. The stone which covered the aperture in the roof was opened, and a quantity of salted beef let down to the prisoner, who devoured it eagerly. When he had glut- ted himself with this food, and expected to be supplied with liquor, to quench the raging thirst which the diet had excited, a cup was lowered down, which, Avhen he eagerly grasped it, he found to be empty ! They then rolled the stone on the opening in the vault, and left the captive to perish by thirst, the most dreadful of all deaths. Many similar stories could be told you of the wild wars of the islanders ; but these may suf- fice at present to give you some idea of the fierceness of their manners, the low value at which they held human life, and the manner in which wrongs were revenged, and property ac- quired. They seem to have been accounted by King James a race whom it was impossible to subdue, conciliate, or improve by civiliza- tion ; and the only remedy which occurred to him, was to settle Lowlanders in the islands, and drive away or extirpate the people by whom they were inhabited. * LOWLAND SETTLERS AT STORXOWAY. 93 For this purpose, the king authorized an as- sociation of many gentlemen in the county of Fife, then the wealthiest and most civilized part of Scotland, who undertook to make a settle- ment in the isles of LeAvis and Harris. These undertakers, as they were called, levied money, assembled soldiers, and manned a fleet, with which they landed on the Lewis, and effect- ed a settlement at Stornoway in that coun- try. At this time the property of the Lewis was disputed between the sons of Rory MacLeod, the last lord, who had two fami- lies by separate wives. The undertakers find- ing the natives thus quarrelling among them- selves, had little difficulty in building a small town and fortifying it ; and their enterprise in the beginning assumed a promising ap- pearance. But the Lord of Kintail, chief of the nume- rous and powerful clan of MacKenzie, was little disposed to let this fair island fall into the pos- session of a company of Lowland adventurers. He had himself some views of obtaining it in the name of Torquil Connaldagh MacLeod, one of the claimants, who was closely connect- ed Avith the family of MacKenzie, and disposed to act as his powerful ally desired. Thus pri- vately encouraged, the islanders united them- selves against the undertakers; and, after a war of various fortune, attacked their camp of Stornoway, took it by storm, burnt the fort, slew many of them, and made the rest prison- ers. They were not expelled, you may be sure, without bloodshed and m.assacre. Some of the 94 LOWLAND SETTLERS AT STORNOWAY old persons still alive in the Lewis, talk of a very old woman, living in their youth, who used to say, that she had held the light while her countrymen were cutting the throats of the adventurers. A lady, the wife of one of the principal gen- tlemen in the expedition, fled from the scene of violence into a wild and pathless desert of rock and morass, called the Forest of Fannig. In this wilderness she became the mother of a child. A Hebridean, who chanced to pass on one of the ponies of the country, saw the mother and infant in the act of perishing with cold, and being struck with the misery of their condition, contrived a strange manner of pre- serving them. He killed his pony, and opening its belly, and removing the entrails, he put the new born infant and the helpless mother into the inside of the carcass, to have the advantage of the warmth which this strange and shocking receptacle afforded. In this manner, 'with or without assistance, he contrived to bear them to some place of security, where the lady remained till she could get back in safety to her own country. She became, after this wonderful escape, the wife of a person of consequence and influence in Edinburgh, a Judge, I believe, of the Court of Session. One evening, while she looked from the win- dow of her house in the Canongate, just as a heavy storm was coming on, ahe heard a man in the Highland dress say to another with whom he was walking, " This would be a rough night for the Forest of Fannig." The lady's atten- MASSACRED BY THE NATIVES. 95 tion was immediately attracted by the name of a place which she had such awful reasons for remembering, and, on looking attentively at the man who spoke, she recognized her preserver. She called him into the house, received him in the most cordial manner, and finding that he was come from the Western Islands on some business of great importance to his family, she interested her husband in his favour, by whose influence it was speedily and successfully set- tled ; and the Hebridean, loaded with kindness and presents, returned to his native island, with reason to congratulate himself on the hu- manity which he had shown in so singular a manner. After the surprise of their fort, and the mas- sacre of the defenders, the Fife gentlemen tired of their undertaking ; and the Lord of Kintail had the whole advantage of the dispute, for he contrived to get possession of the Lev/is for himself, and transmitted it to his family, with whom it still remains. It appears, however, that King James did not utterly despair of improving the Hebrides, by means of colonization. It was supposed that the powerful Marquis of Huntly might have had strength to acquire the property, and wealth enough to pay the Crown something for the grant. The whole archipelago was offered to him, with the exception of Skye, and Lewis, at the cheap price of ten thousand pounds Scots, or about 800Z. ; but the Marquis would not give more than half the sum demanded, for what he justly considered as a permission to OG WESTERN ISLES OrFERED TO IIUNTLY. conquer a sterile region, inhabited by a war- like race. Such was the result of the efforts to introduce some civilization into these islands. In the next chapter we shall show that the improvement of the Highlanders on the mainland was not much more satisfactory. [ 07 ] CHAP. VI. Contempt vf the Highlanders for the Arts of Peace — Story of Donald of the Hammer — Execution of the Laird of Mac Intosh by order of the Marchioness of Huntly — Mas- sacre of the Farquharsons — Race of the Trough — Execution of the Earl of Orkney The size and position of the Highlands of Scotland rendered them much less susceptible of improvement than the Border districts, which, far less extensive, and less difficult of access, were now placed between two civilized and peaceful countries, instead of being the frontier of two hostile lands. The Highlanders, on the contrary, continued the same series of wars among themselves, and incursions upon their Lowland neighbours, which had distinguished them ever since the dawn of their history. Military adventure, in one form or other, was their delight as well as their employment, and all works of industry were considered as unworthy the dignity of a mountaineer. Even the necessary task of raising a scanty crop of barley was assigned to the aged, and to the women and children. The men minded nothing but hunting and war. I will give you an account of a Highland chieftain, in character and practice not very different from that of Allan-a-Sop, the Hebridean. The Stewarts, who inhabited the district of Vol. I. 9 98 THE STORY OP Appin in the West Highlands, were a numerous and warlike clan. Appin is the title of the chief of the clan. The second branch of the family was that of Invernahyle. The founder, a second son of the House of Appin, was called by the uncommon epithet of Saoileach, or the Peace- ful. One of his neighbours was the Lord of Dunstaffnage, called Cailen Unine, or Green Colin, from the green colour which predomina- ted in his tartans. This Green Colin surprised the peaceful Laird of Invernahyle, assassinated him, Ixirnt his house, and destroyed his whole family, excepting an infant at the breast. This infant did not owe its safety to the mercy of Green Colin, but to the actiA-ity and presence of mind of his nurse. Finding she could not escape the pursuit of that chief's at- tendants, the faithful nurse determined to pro- vide for the safety of her foster-child, whose life she knew was aimed at,in the only manner which remained. She therefore hid the infant in a small fissure, or cave, of a rock, and as the only means she had of supplying him with subsistence, hung by a string round his neck a large piece of lard. The poor woman had only time to get a little way from the place where she had con- cealed her charge, when she was made prisoner by the pursuers. As she denied any know- ledge where the child was, they dismissed her as a person of no consequence, but not until they had kept her two or three days in close confinement, menacing her with death unless she would discover what she had done with the infant. DONALD OF THE HAMMER. 09 When she found herself at liberty and unob- served, she went to the hole in which she had concealed her charge, with little hope save of finding such relics as wolves, wild cats, or birds of prey, might have left after feasting upon its flesh, but still with the pious wish to consign the remains of her dault, or foster-child, to some place of Christian burial. But her joy and surprise were extreme to find the child still alive and well, having lived during her absence by sucking tlie lard, which it had reduced to a very small morsel, scarce larger than a hazel nut. The delighted nurse made all haste to escape with her charge to the neighbouring dis- trict of Moidart, of which she was a native, be- ing the ^\dfe of the smith of the clan of Mac- Donald, to whom that country belonged ; the mother of the infant thus miraculously rescued had also been a daughter of this tribe. To ensure the safety of her foster-child, the nurse persuaded her husband to bring it up as their own son. The smith, you must remark, of a Highland tribe, was a person of considera- ble consequence. His skill in forging armour and weapons was usually united with dexterity in using them, and with the strength of body which his profession required. If I recollect right, the smith usually ranked as third officer in the chief's household. The young Donald Stewart, as he grew up, was distinguished for great personal strength. He became skilful in his foster-father's art, and so powerful, that he could, it is said, wield two fore-hammers, one in each hand, for hours together. From this 100 THE STORY OF circumstance, he gained the name of Donuil nan Ord, that is, Donald of the Hammer, by which he was all his life distinguished. When he attained the age of twenty-one, Donald's foster-father, the smith, observing that his courage and enterprise equalled his personal strength, thought fit to discover to him the secret of his birth, the injuries which he had received from Green Colin of DunstafT- nage, and the pretensions which he had to the property of Invernahyle, now in the possession of the man who had slain his father, and usurp- ed his inheritance. He concluded his discovery by presenting to his beloved foster-child his own six sons to be his followers and defenders for life and death, and his assistants in the re- covery of his patrimony. Law of every description was unknown in the Highlands. Young Donald proceeded in his enterprise by hostile measures. In addition to his six foster-brethren, he got some assist- ance from his mother's kindred, and levied among the old adherents of his father, and his kinsmen of the-house of Appin, such additional force, that he was able to give battle to Green Colin, whom he defeated and slew, regaining at the same time his father's house and estate of Invernahyle. This success had its dangers ; for it placed the young chief in feud with all the families of the powerful clan of Campbell, to which the slain Dunstaffnagc belonged by alliance at least, for Green Colin and his ances- tors had assumed the name, and placed them- selves under the banner, of this formidable clan, DONALD OF THE HAMMER. 101 although originally they were chieftains of a different and independent race. The feud be- came more deadly, when, not satisfied with re- venging himself on the immediate authors of his early misfortune, Donald made inroads on the Campbells in their own dominions ; in evi- dence of which his historian quotes a verse to this purpose — Donald of the Smithy, the Son of the Hammer, Fill'd the banks of Lochawe with mourning and clamour. At length the powerful Earl of Argyle re- sented the injuries which were offered to his clansmen and kindred. The Stewarts of Appin refused to support their kinsman against an enemy so formidable, and insisted that he should seek for peace with the Earl. So that Donald, left to himself, and sensible that he was unable to withstand the force which might be brought against him by this mighty chief, endeavoured to propitiate his favour by placing himself in his hands. He went, accordingly, with only a single at- tendant, towards Inverary, the castle of the Earl of Argyle, who met him at some distance in the open fields. Donald of the Hammer showed on this occasion that it was not fear which had induced him to this step. He was a man of ready wit and a poet, which was an accom- plishment high in the estimation of the High- landers. He opened the conference with an extempore verse, which intimated a sort of de- fiance, rather like the language of a man that 9* 102 THE STORY OF cared not what might befall him, than one who craved mercy or asked forgiveness. Son of dark Colin, thou dangerous Earl, Small is the boon that I crave at thy hand; Enough if in safety from bondage and peril, Thou lett'st me return to my kindred and land. The Earl was too generous to avail himself of the advantage which Invernahyle's confi- dence had afforded him, but he could not ab- stain from maintaining the conversation thus begun, in a gibing tone. Donuil nan Ord was harsh-featured, and had a custom, allied to his mode of education, and the haughtiness of his character, of throwing back his head, and laughing loudly with his mouth wide open. In ridicule of this peculiarity, Argyle, or one of his attendants, pointed out to his observation, a rock in the neighbourhood, which bore a sin- gular resemblance to a human face, with a large mouth much thrown back, and open as if laughing a horse laugh. " Do you see yonder crag?" they said to Donald of the Hammer, "it is called Gaire Granda, or the Ugly Laugh.^' Donald felt the intended gibe, and as Argyle's lady was a plain and haughty wo- man, he replied, without hesitation, in a verse like the following : Ugly the sneer of yon cliiFof the hill, Nature has stamp'd the grim laugh on the place: Seek for a grimmer and uglier still, You will find it at home in your countess's face. Argyle took the raillery of Donald in good part, but would not make peace with him, until DONALD OF THE HAMMER. 103 lie agreed to make two creaghs, or inroads, one upon Moidart, and one upon Athole. It seems probable that the purpose of Argyle was to en- gage his t»roublesome neighbour in a feud with other clans to whom he bore no good- will ; for whether he of the Hammer fell or was success- ful, the Earl, in either event, would gain a cer- tain advantage. Donald accepted peace with the Campbells on these terms. On his return home, Donald communicated to MacDonald of Moidart the engagement he had come under; and that chieftain, his mother's kinsman and ally, concerted that Invernahyle and his band should plunder certain villages in Moidart, the inhabitants of %vhich had oflended him, and on whom he desired chastisement should be inflicted. The incursion of Donald the Hammerer punished them to some purpose, and so far he fulfilled his engagement to Argyle, without making an enemy of his own kinsman. With the Athole men, as more distant and un- connected with him, Donald stood on less ce- remony, and made more than one successful creagh upon them. His name was now esta- blished as one of the most formidable marau- ders known in the Highlands, and a very bloody action which he sustained against the family of the Grahams of Monteith, made him more dreaded. The Earls of Monteith, you must know, had a castle situated upon an island in the lake, or loch, as it is called, of the same name. But though this residence, which occupied almost the whole of the islet upon which its ruins etill 104 THE STORY OF exist, was a strong and safe place of abode, and adapted accordingly to such perilous times, it had this inconvenience, that the stables, co\\'- houses, poultry-yard, and other domestic offices, were necessarily separated from the castle, and situated on. the mainland, as it would have been impossible to be constantly tran- sporting the animals belonging to the esta- blishment to and fro from the shore to the island. These offices, therefore, were constructed on the banks of the lake, and in some sort de- fenceless. It happened on one occasion that there was to be a great~entertainment in the castle, and a number of the Grahams were assembled. The occasion, it is said, was a marriage in the family. To prepare for this feast, much pro- vision was got ready, and in particular a great deal of poultry had been collected. While the feast was preparing, an unhappy chance brought Donald of the Hammer to the side of the lake, returning at the head of a band of hun^y followers, whom he was conducting .homewards to the West Highlands, after some of his usual excursions into Stirlingshire. See- ing so much good victuals ready, and being possessed of an excellent apetite, the western Highlanders neither asked questions, or waited for an invitation, but devoured all the provi- sions that had been prepared for the Grahams, and then went on their Avay rejoicing, tlirough the difficult and dangerous path which leads from the banks of the lochof Monteith, through the mountains, to the side of Loch Katrine. DONALD OF THE HAMMER. 105 The Grahams were filled with the highest indignation. Nothing in those fierce times was so contemptible as an individual who would suffer himself to be plundered without exacting satisfaction and revenge, and the loss of their dinner probably aggravated their sense of the insult. The company who were assembled at the castle of Monteith, headed by the Earl him- self, hastily took to their boats, and, disembark- ing on the northern side of the lake, pursued with all speed the marauders and their leader. They came up with Donald's party in the gorge of a pass, near a rock, called Craig-Vad, or the Wolf's clifi'. Here the Grahams called, with loud insults, on the Appin men to stand, and one of them, in allusion to the execution which had been done amongst the poultry, exclaimed in verse — They're brave gallants, these Appin men, To twist the throat of cock and hen ! Donald instantly replied to the reproach — And if we be of Appin's line, We'll twist a goose's neck in thine. So saying, he shot the unlucky scoffer vriih an arrow. The battle then began, and was continued with much fury till night came. The Earl of Monteith and many of his noble kins- men fell, while Donald, favoured by darkness, escaped with a single attendant. The Grahams obtained from the cause of quarrel the nickname of Gramoch and Garrigh, or Grahams of the hens ; although they certainly lost no honour 106 THE STORY OF in the encounter, having fought like game- cocks. Donald of the Hammer was twice married. His second marriage was highly displeasing to his eldest son, whom he had by his first wife. This young man, whose name was Duncan, seems to have partaken rather of the disposition of his grandfather, Alister Saoileach, or the Peaceful, than of the turbulent spirit of his father the Hammerer. He quitted the family mansion in displeasure, and passed to a farm called Inverfalla, which his father bad bestowed upon his nurse in reward for her eminent ser- vices. Duncan lived with this valued connex- ion of the family, who was now in the extremity of old age, and amused himself with attempting to improve the cultivation of tlie farm ; a task which not only was considered as far below the dignity of a highland gentleman, but even re- garded as the last degree of degradation. The idea of his son's occupying himself witli agi'i cultural operations struck so much shame and anger into the heapt of Donald the Ham- merer, that his resentment against him became ungovernable. At length, as he walked by his own side of the river, and looked towards In- verfalla, he saw, to his extreme displeasure, a number of men employed in digging and level- ling the soil for some intended crop. Soon af- ter, he had the additional mortification to see his son come out and mingle with the workmen, as if giving them directions ; and, finally, be- held him take the spade out of an awkward fel- low's hand, and dig a little himself, to show DONALD OF THE HAMMER. lO? him how to use it. This last act of degeneracy- drove the Hammerer frantic ; he seized a ciir- rah, or boat covered with hides, which was near, jumped into it, and pushed across the stream, with the determination of destroying the son, Avho had, in his opinion, brought such unutterable disgrace upon his family. The poor agriculturist, seeing his father approach in such haste, and having a shrewd guess of the nature of his paternal intentions, fled into the house and hid himself. Donald followed with his drawn weapon ; but, deceived by passion and darkness, he plunged his sword into the body of one whom he saw lying on the bed- clothes. Instead of his son, for whom the blow was intended, it lighted on the old foster-mo- ther, to whom he owed his life in infancy and education in youth, and slew her on the spot. After this misfortune, Donald became deeply aflfected with remorse ; and, giving up all his estates to his children, he retired to the Abbey of Saint Columbus, in lona, and passed the remainder of his days as a monk. It may easily be believed, that there was lit- tle peace and quiet in a country abounding with such men as the Hammerer, who thought the practice of honest industry on the part of a gentleman was an act of degeneracy, for which nothing short of death was an adequate punishment ; so that the disorderly state of the Highlands was little short of that of the Isles. Still, however, many of the principal chiefs at- tended occasionally at the court of Scotland ; others were frequently obliged to send their 1Q8 EXECUTION OF THE sons to be educated there, who were retained as hostages for the peaceful behaviour of the clan ; so that by degrees they came to improve with the increasing civilization of the times. The authority also of the great nobles, who held estates in or adjacent to the Highlands, was a means, though a rough one, of making the district over which they exercised their pow- er, submit, in a certain degree, to the occasional influence of the laws. It is true, that the great Earls of Huntly, Arg^yle, Sutherland, and other nobles, did not enfiprce the Lowland in- stitutions upon their Highland vassals out of mere zeal for their civilization, but rather be- cause, by taking care to secure the power of the sovereign and the laws on their own side, Tthey could make the infraction of them by the smaller independent chiefs the pretext for breaking down entire clans, and binding them to their own authority. I will give you an example of the manner in which a noble lady chastised a Highland chief in the reign of James the Sixth. The head of the House of Gordon, then Marquis of Hunt- ly, was by far the most powerful lord in the northern counties, and exercised great influ- ence over the Highland clans who inhabited the mountains of Badenoch, which lay behind his extensive domains. One of the most ancient is that of Macintosh, a word which means Child of the Thane, as they boast their descent from Mac'Dufl", the celebrated Thane of Fife. This haughty race having ftillcn at variance with the Gordons, William Macintosh, their LAIRD OF MACINTOSH. 109 chief, carried his enmity to so great a pitch, as to surprise and burn the Castle of Auchin- down, belonging to the Gordon family. The Marquis of Huntly vowed the severest ven- geance. He moved against the Macintoshes with his own chivalry ; and he let loose upon the devoted tribe, all such neighbouring clans as would do any thing, as the old phrase was, for his love or for his fear. Macintosh, after a short struggle, found him- self unequal to sustain the conflict, and saw that he must either behold his clan totally ex- terminated, or contrive some mode of pacify- ing Huntley's resentment. Of the last he saw no chance, save by surrendering himself into the power of the Marquis, and thus personally atoning for the offence which he had commit- ted. To perform this act of generous devo- tion with as much chance of safety as possible, he chose a time when the Marquis himself was absent, and asking for the lady, whom he judged likely to prove less inexorable than her husband, he presented himself as the unhappy Laird of Macintosh, who came to deliver him- self up to the Gordon, to answer for his burn- ing of Auchindown, and only desired that Huntly would spare his clan. The Marchioness, a stern and haughty wo- man, had shared deeply in her husband's re- sentment. She regarded Macintosh with a stern eye, as the hawk or eagle contemplates the prey within its clutch, and having spoken a word aside to her attendants, replied to the suppliant chief in this manner : — " Macintosh, vou have Vol. I. 10 110 RACE OF THE TROUGH. offended the Gordon so deeply, that Huntly has sworn by his father's soul, that he will never pardon you, till he has brought your neck to the block." — " I will stoop even to that humiliation, to secure the safety of my father's house," said Macintosh. And as this inter- view passed in the kitchen of the Castle at Bog of Gicht, he undid the collar of his doub- let, and kneeling down before the huge block on which, in the rude hospitality of the time, the slain bullocks and sheep were broken up for use, he laid his neck upon it, expecting, doubtless, that the lady would be satisfied with this token of unreserved submission. But the inexorable Marchioness made a sign to the cook, who stepped forward with his hatchet raised, and struck Macintosh's head from his body. Another story, and I will change the subject. It is also of the family of Gordon ; not that they were by any means more hard-hearted than other Scottish barons, who had feuds with the Highlanders, but because it is the readiest which occurs to my recollection. The Far- quharsons of Dee side, a bold and warlike people, inhabiting the dales of Brae-mar, had taken offence at, and slain, a gentleman of con- sequence, named Gordon of Brackley. The Marquis of Huntly summoned his forces, to take a bloody vengeance for the death of a Gordon ; and that none of the guilty tribe might escape, communicated with the Laird of Grant, a very powerful chief, who was an ally of Huntly, and a relation, I believe, to the RACE OF THE TROUGH. Ill slain Baron of Brackley. They agreed, that, on a day appointed, Grafiii with his clan in arms, should occupy the upper end of the vale of Dee, while the Gordons should ascend the river from beneath, each party killing, burning, and destroying, without mercy, whatever and whomsoever they found before them. A terri- ble massacre was made among the Farquhar- sons, taken at unawares, and placed betwixt two enemies. Almost all the men and women of the race were slain, and when the day was done, Huntly found himself encumbered with about two hundred orphan children, whose pa- rents had been killed. What became of them, you shall presently hear. About a year after this foray, the Laird of Grant chanced to dine at the Marquis's castle. He was, of course, received with kindness, and entertained with magnificence. After dinner was over, Huntly said to his guest, that he would show him some rare sport. According- ly, he conducted Grant to a balcony, which, as was frequent in old mansions,, overlooked the kitchen, perhaps to permit the lady to give an occasional eye to the operations there. The numerous servants of the Marquis and his vi- siters had already dined, and Grant beheld all the remains of the victuals flung at random into a large trough, like that out of which swine feed. While Graat was wondering what this could mean, the master cook gave a signal with his silver whistle ; on which a hatch, like that of a dog-kennel, was raised, and there rushed into the kitchen, some shriek- 112 RACE OF THE TROUGH. ing, some shouting, some yelling — not a pack of hounds, which, in number, noise, and tu- mult, they greatly resembled, but a huge mob of children, half naked, and totally wild in their manners, who threw themselves on the contents of the trough, and fought, strug- gled, and clamoured, each to get the largest share. Grant was a man of humanity, and did not see in that degrading scene all the amusement which his noble host had intended to afford him. "In the name of Heaven," he said, "who are these unfortunate creatures that are fed like so many pigs?" — " They are the children of those Farquharsons whom we slew last year on Dee side," answered Huntly. The Laird felt more shocked than it would have been prudent or polite to express. " My lord," he said, " my sword helped to make these poor children or- phans, and it is not fair that your lordship should be burdened with all the expense of maintaining them. You have supported them for a year and day — allow me now to take them to Castle-Grant, and keep them for the same time at my cost." Huntly was tired of the joke of the pig- trough, and willingly consented to have the un- disciplined rabble of children taken off his hands. He troubled himself no more about them ; and the Laird of Grant, carrying them to his castle, had them dispersed among his clan, and brought up decently, giving them his own name of Grant; but it is said their descend- ants are still called the Race of the Trough, to EXECUTION OF THE EARL OF ORKNEY. 113 distinguish them from the families of the tribe into which they were adopted. These are instances of the severe authority- exercised by the great barons over their High- land neighbours and vassals. Still that autho- rity produced a regard to the laws, which they would not otherwise have received. These mighty lords, though possessed of great power in their jurisdictions, never affected entire inde- pendence, as had been done by the old Lords of the Isles, Ayho made peace and war with England, without the consent of the King of Scotland ; whereas, Argyle, Huntly, and others, always used at least the pretext of the king's name and authority, and were, from habit and education, less apt to practise wild stretches of arbitrary power than the native chiefs of the Highlands. In proportion, therefore, as the influence of the nobles increased, the country approached more nearly to civilization. It must not here be forgotten, that the in- crease of power acquired by the sovereign, had been felt severely by one of his great feudal lords, for exercising violence and oppression, even in the most distant extremity of the em- pire. The Earl of Orkney, descended from a natural son of James V., and of course a cousin- german of the reigning monarch, had indulged himself in extravagant excesses of arbitrary authority amongst the wild recesses of the Ork- ney and Zetland islands. He had also, it was alleged, shown some token of a Vv ish to assume sovereign power, and had caused his natural son to defend the Castle of Kirkwall, by force 10* 114 EXECUTION OF THE EARL OF ORKNEY. of arms, against the King's troops. For these offences the earl was tried and executed at Edinburgh ; and his punishment struck such terror among the aristocracy, as made even those great lords, whose power lay in the most distant and inaccessible places of Scotland, dis- posed to be amenable to the royal authority. Having thus discussed the changes effected by the union of the crowns on the Borders, Highlands, and Isles, it remains to notice the effects produced in the Lowlands, or more civi- lized parts of the kingdom. I I n& 1 CHAP. VII Injurious Effects to Scotland of the Removal of the Court to London — Numerous Scots- men employed in Foreign Military Service — and as Travelling Merchants, or Pack- men, in Germany — Exertions of the Preshy terian Clergy to put an end to Family Feuds^ and to extend Education — Establishment^ by their means, of Parochial Schools — . James Ws Visit to Scotland in 1617 — his Death — his Children. The Scottish people were soon made sensi- ble, that if their courtiers and great men made fortunes by King James's favour, the nation at large was not enriched by the union of th« crowns. Edinburgh was no longer the resi- dence of a Court, whose expenditure, though very moderate, was diffused among her mer- chants and citizens, and v/as so far of import- ance. The sons of the gentry and better class- es, whose sole trade had been war and battle, were deprived of employment by the general peace with England, and the nation was likely to feel all the distress arising from an excess of population. The wars on the Continent afford- ed a resource peculiarly fitted to the genius of the Scots, who have always had a disposition for visiting foreign parts. The celebrated Thirty Years* War, as it was ealled. was now raging in Germany, and a large 116 SCOTSMEN IN FOREIGN SERVICE. national brigade of Scots were engaged in the service of Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden, one of the most successful generals of the age. Their total numbers may be guessed from those of the superior officers, which amounted to thirty-four colonels, and fifty lieutenant-colo- nels. The similarity of the religion of the Scots with that of the Swedes, and some congenial resemblances betwixt the two na- tions, as well as the high fame of Gustavus, made most of the Scots prefer the service of Sweden ; but there were others who went into that of the Emperor of Austria, of France, of the Italian States, — in short, they were dis- persed as soldiers throughout all Europe. It was not uncommon, when a party of Scots were mounting a breach, for them to hear some of the defenders call out in the Scottish language, " Come on, gentlemen ; this is not like gallant- ing it at the Cross of Edinburgh," and thus learn that they were opposed to some of their countrymen engaged on the opposite side. The taste for foreign service was so univer- sal, that young gentlemen of family, who "wish- ed to see the world, used to travel on the Con- tinent from place to place, and from state to state, and defray their expenses by engaging for a few weeks or months in military service in the garrison or guards of the state in which they made their temporary residence. It is but doing the Scots justice to say, that while thus acting as mercenary soldiers, they ac- quired a high character for courage, military fcikill, and a faithful adherence to their engage- SCOTSMEN IN FOREIGN SERVICE. 11? >^ • ments. The Scots regiments in the Swedish service were the first troops Avho employed platoon firing, by which they contributed greatly to achieve the decisive battle of Lutzen. Besides the many thousand Scottish emi- grants Avho pursued the trade of war on the Continent, there was another numerous class who undertook the toilsome and precarious task of travelling merchants, or to speak plain- ly, of pedlers, and were employed in conducting the petty inlanu commerce, which gave the in- habitants of Germany, Poland, and the north- ern parts of Europe in general, opportunities of purchasing articles of domestic convenience. There were at that time few towns, and in these tov/ns there were few shops regularly open. When an inhabitant of the country, of high or low degree, had to purchase any article of dress or domestic convenience which he did not manufacture himself, he was obliged to at- tend at the next fair, to which the travelling merchants flocked, in order to expose their goods to sale. Or if the buyer did not choose to take that trouble, he must wait till some pedler, who carried his goods on horseback, in a small wain, or perhaps in a pack upon his shoulders, made his wandering journey through the country. It has been made matter of ridicule against the Scots, that this traffic fell into their hands, as a frugal, patient, provident, and laborious people, possessing some share of education, which we shall presently see was now be- coming general amongst them. But we cannot 118 IMPERFECT ENTORCEMEAT think that the business which required such attributes to succeed in it, could be dishonoura- ble to those who pursued it ; and we believe that those Scots who, in honest commerce, supplied foreigners with the goods they re quired, were at least as well employed as those who assisted them in killing each other. While the Scots thus continued to improve their condition by enterprise abroad, they gra- dually sunk into peaceful habits at home. In the wars of Queen Mary's time, and those of King James's minority, we have the autho- rity of a great lawyer, the first Earl of Had- dington, generally known by the name of Tom of the Cowgate, to assure us, that " the whole country was so miserably distracted, not only by the accustomed barbarity of the High- lands and Borders, which was greatly increas- ed, but by the cruel dissensions arising from public factions and private feuds, that men of every rank daily wore steel-jacks, knapscaps or head-pieces, plate-sleeves, and pistols and po- niards, being as necessary parts of their apparel as their doublets and breeches." Their dispo- sition was, of course, as warlike as their dress ; and the same authority informs us, that what- ever was the cause of their assemblies or meet- ings, fights and afiVays were the necessary consequence before they^ separated ; and this not at parliaments, conventions, trysts, and markets only, but likewise in churchyards, churches, and places appointed for the exer- cise of religion. This universal state of disorder was not ow- OF TIIK LAWS. 110 ing- to any want of laws against such enormi- ties ; on the contrary, the Scottish legislature was more severe than that of England, ac- counting a slaughter taking place on a sudden quarrel, without previous malice, as murder, which the law of England rated under the milder denomination of manslaughter. And this seve- rity was introduced into the law, expressly to restrain the peculiar furious temper of the Scottis-h nation. It was not, therefore, laws w^hich Avere wanting to restrain violence, but the regular and due execution of such as existed. An ancient Scottish statesman and judge, who "was also a poet, has alluded to the means used to save the guilty from deserved punishment. " We are allowed some skill," he says, " in making good laws, but God knows how ill they are kept and enforced ; since a man accused of a crime will frequently appear at the bar of a court to which he is summoned, with such a company of armed friends at his back, as if it were his purpose to defy and intimidate both judge and jury." The interest of great men, moreover, obtained often by bribes, interposed between a criminal and justice, and saved by court favour the life which was forfeited to the laws. James made great reformation in these parti- culars, as soon as his power, increased by the union of the two kingdoms, gave him the means of doing so. The laws, as we have seen in more cases than one, were enforced with greater severity ; and the assistance of power- ful friends, nay, the interposition of courtiers 120 HEREDITARY JL'RISDICTIONS. and favourites, was less successful in interfering with the course of justice, or obtaining remis- sions and pardons for condemned criminals. Thus the wholesome terror of justice gradually imposed a restraint on the general violence and disorder which had followed the civil wars of Scotland. Still, however, as the barons held, by means of their hereditary jurisdictions, the exclusive right to try and to punish such crimes as were committed on their own estates ; and as they often did not choose to do so, either because the action had been committed by the baron's own direction ; or that the malefactor was a strong and active partizan, of whose service the lord might have need; or because the judge and criminal stood in some degree of relation- ship to each other ; in all such cases, the cul- prit's escape from justice was a necessary consequence. Nevertheless, viewing Scotland generally, the progress of public justice at the commencement of the seventeenth century, was much purer, and less liable to interruption, than in former ages, and the disorders of the country were fewer in proportion. The law and its terrors had its effect in pre- venting the frequency of crime ; but it could not have been in the power of mere human laws, and the punishments which they enacted, to eradicate from the national feelings the proncnrss to violence, and the thirst of revenge, which had been so long a general characteristic of the Scottish people. The heathenish and accursed custom of deadly feud, or the duty, as INFLUENCE OF THE REFORMERS. 121 it was thought, of exacting blood for blood, and perpetuating a chance quarrel, by handing it down to future generations, could only give place to those pure religious doctrines which teach men to practise, not the revenge, but the forgiveness of injuries, as the only means of acquiring the favour of Heaven. The Presbyterian preachers, in throwing away the external pomp and ceremonial of reli- gious worship, had inculcated, in its place, the most severe observation of morality. It was objected to them, indeed, that, as in their mo del of church government, the Scottish clergy claimed an undue influence over state affairs, so, in their professions of doctrine and prac- tice, they verged towards an ascetic system, in which too much weight was laid on ve- nial transgressions, and the opinions of other Christian churches were treated with too little liberality. But no one who considers their works, and their history, can deny to those respectable men, the merit of practising, in the most rigid extent, the strict doctrines of morality which they taught. They despised wealth, shunned even harmless pleasures, and acquired the love of their flocks, by attending to their temporal as well as spiritual diseases. They preached what they themselves seriously believed, and they w'ere believed because they spoke with all the earnestness of conviction. They spared neither example nor precept to improve the more ignorant of their hearers, and often endangered their own lives in attempting to Vol. I. n 122 INFLUENCE OF THE REFOrvMEKS. put a stop to the feuds and frays which daily occurred in their bounds. It is recorded of a worthy clergyman, whose parish was peculiarly distracted by the brawls of tlie quarrelsome inhabitants, that he used constantly to wear a stout steel headpiece, which bore an odd appearance contrasted with his clerical dress. The purpose was, that when he saw swords drawn in the street, which was almost daily, he might run between, the combatants, and thus separate them, with less risk of being killed by a chance blow. So that his venturous and dauntless humanity was perpetually placing his life in danger. The clergy of that day were frequently re- spectable from their birth and connexions, often from their learning, and at all times from their character. These qualities enabled them to interfere with effect, even in the feuds of the barons and gentry ; and they often brought to milder and more peaceful thoughts, men who would not have listened to any other interces- sors. There is no doubt, that these good men, and the Christianity which they taught, were one of the principal means of correcting the furious temper and revengeful habits of the Scottish nation, in whose eyes bloodshed and deadly vengeance had been till then a virtue. Besides the precepts and examples of reli- gion and morality, the encouragement of gene- ral information and knowledge is also an elfect- ual mode of taming and subduing the wild habits of a military and barbarous people. For this also the Lowlands of Scotland were indebted 1o tlio Presbyterian ministers. SPREAD OF EDUCATION. 123 The Catholic clergy had been especially in- strumental in the foundation of three univer- sities in Scotland, namely, those of Glasgow, St. Andrews, and Aberdeen ; but these places of education, from the very nature of their in- stitutions, were only calculated for the educa- tion of students desi-gned for the church, or of those youths from among the higher classes of the laity, whom their parents might wish to re- ceive such information as might qualify them for lawyers and statesmen. The more noble view of the Reformed Church, was to extend the blessings of knowledge to the lower, as well as the higher, classes of society. The preachers of the reformation had ap- pealed to the Scriptures as the rule of their doctrine, and it was their honourable and libe- ral desire, that the poorest, as well as the rich- est man, should have an opportunity of judg- ing, by his own perusal of the sacred volume, whether they had interpreted the text truly and faithfully. The invention of printing had made the Scriptures accessible to every one, and the clergy desired that the meanest peasant should have the skill necessary to peruse them. John Knox, and other leaders of the Congre- gation, had, from the very era of the Reforma- tion, pressed the duty of reserving from the confiscated revenues of the Romish Church the means of providing for the clergy with decen- cy, and of establishing colleges and schools for the education of youth ; but their wishes were for a long time disappointed by the avarice of the nobility and gentry, who were determijied 124 PAROCHIAL SCHOOLS. . ■ ■ » to retain for their own use the spoils of the Catholic Church, and by the stormy complex- ion of the times, in which little was regarded save what belonged to politics and war. At length the legislature, chiefly by the influ- ence of the clergy, was induced to authorize the noble enactment, which appoints a school to be kept in every parish of Scotland, at a low rate of endowment indeed, but such as enables every poor man within the parish to procure for his children the knowledge of reading and writing ; and aflfords an opportunity for those who show a decided taste for learning, to ob- tain such progress in classical knowledge, as may fit them for college studies. There can be no doubt, that the opportunity afforded, of procuring instruction thus easily, tended, in the course of a generation, greatly to civilize and humanize the character of the Scottish na- tion ; and it is equally certain, that this gene- ral access to useful knowledge, has not only given rise to the success of many men of genius, who otherwise would never have as- pired above the humble rank in which they were born, but has raised the common people of Scotland in general, in knowledge, sagacity, and intelligence many degrees above those of most other countries. The Highlands and islands did not share the influence of religion and education, which so essentially benefited their Lowland country- men, owing to their speaking a language differ- ent from tlic rest of Scotland, as well as to the diflficulty, or rather at that time the impossibil- JAMES S VISIT TO SCOTLAND. 125 ity, of establishing churches or schools in such a remote country, and amongst natives of sucli wild manners. To the reign of James VI. it is only neces- sary to add, that in 1617 he revisited his an- cient kingdom of Scotland, from the same in- stinct, as his Majesty was pleased to express it, which induces salmon, after they have visited the sea, to return to the river in which they have been bred. He was received with every appearance of affection by his Scottish subjects ; and the only subject of suspicion, doubt, or quarrel, be- twixt the King and them, arose from the par- tiality he evinced to the form and ritual of the Church of England. The true Presbyterians groaned heavily at seeing choristers and sing- ing boys arrayed in white surplices, and at hearing them chant the service of the Church of England ; and they were in despair when they saw his Majesty's private chapel adorned with pictures representing scriptural subjects. All this, and every thing like an established and prescribed form in prayer, in garb or de- coration, was, in their idea, a greater or less approximation to the practices of the Church of Rome. This was, indeed, mere prejudice, but it was a prejudice of little consequence in itself, and James ought to have rather respected than combated feelings connected with much that was both moral and religious, and honoured the right which his Scottish subjects might justly claim to worship God after their own 11* 126 DEATH Oi JAMEri VI. manner, and not according to the rules and ceremonies of a foreign country. His obsti- nacy on this point was, however, satisfied with carrying through the Articles of Perth, al- ready mentioned, which were finally admitted in the year after his visit to Scotland. He left to his successor the task of accomplishing a complete conformity, in ritual and doctrine, between the churches of South and North Britain — and very dear the attempt cost him. In the year 1625, James died. He was the least dignified and accomplished of all his fa- mily ; but, at the same time, the most fortu- nate. Robert II., the first of the Stewart fami- ly, died, it is true, in peajce ; but Robert III. had sunk under the family losses which he had sustained ; James I. was murdered ; James II. killed by the bursting of a cannon ; James III. (whom James VI. chiefly resembled) was pri- vately slain after the battle of Sauchie-Burn ; James IV. fell at Flodden ; James V. died of a broken heart ; Henry Darnley, the father of James VI. was treacherously murdered ; and his mother. Queen Mary, was tyrannically be- headed. He himself alone, without courage, without sound sagacity, without that feeling of dignity which should restrain a prince from foolish indulgences, became King of the great nation which had for ages threatened to subdue that of which he was born monarch ; and the good fortune of the Stewart family, which seems lo have existed in his person alone, de- rlined and totally decayed in those of his suc- ressors CHARLES I. SUCCEEDS JAMES VI. 127 James had lost his eldest son Henry, a youth of extraordinary promise. His second, Charles I., succeeded him in the throne. He left also one daughter, Elizabeth, married to Frederick, the Elector Palatine of the German empire. He was an unfortunate prince, and with a view of obtaining the kingdom of Bohemia, engaged in a ruinous war with the Emperor, by which he lost his hereditary dominions. But the Elec- tor's evil fortune was redeemed in the person of his descendants, from whom sprung the royal family which now possess the British throne, in right of the Princess Elizabeth. [ 138 ] CHAP. VIII. Discontents excited during Jameses reign — in- creased under Charles — Introduction of the English Liturgy into the Scottish Church — National Covenant — The Scottish Army en- ters England — Concessions of the King to the Long Parliament, upon which the Scot- tish Army returns home — Charles visits Scotland, and gains over the Marquis of Montrose to the Royal Cause — The two Par- ties of Cavaliers and Roundheads — Arrest of five Members of the House of Commons — Civil War in England. Charles I., who succeeded his father James, was a Prince whose personal qualities were ex- cellent. It was said of him justly, that, consi- dered as a private gentleman, there was not a more honourable, virtuous, and religious man, in his dominions. He was a kind father, mas- ter, and even too aflectionate husband, permit- ting the Queen Henrietta Maria, the beautiful daughter of Henry IV. of France, to influence his government too much. Charles had also the dignity which his father totally wanted; and there is no just occasion to question thai so good a man as we have described him, had the intention to rule his people justly and mer- cifully, in place of enforcing the ancient feudal thraldom. But on the other hand, he enter- tained extravagant ideas of the regal power, DISCONTENTS DURING JAMEs's REIGN. ] 29 feelings which, being peculiarly unsuitable to the times in which he lived, uccasioned his own total ruin, and, for a time, that of his posterity. The English people had been now, for a cen- tury and more, relieved from the severe yoke of the nobles, and had forgotten how it had pressed upon their forefathers. What had galled them in the late reign, were the exactions of King James, who, to indulge his prodigal liberality to worthless favourites, had extorted from Parliament large supplies, and having mis- applied these, had endeavoured to obtain others by granting to indiWduals, for sums of money, exclusive rights to sell certain commodities, which the monopolists immediately raised to a high rate, and made a large fortune, while the king got little by the bribe which he had re- ceived, and the subjects suffered extremely by the price of articles, necessaries perhaps of life, being unduly raised. Yet James, finding that a spirit of opposition had arisen within the House of Commons, and that grants of money were obtained with diffi- culty, would not refrain from such indirect practices to obtain money from the people without the consent of their representatives in Parliament. It was his object also to support the royal power in the full authority, which, by gradual encroachments, it attained during the reign of the Tudors ; and he was disposed to talk high of his prerogative, for which he stated himself to be accountable to God alone; where- as it was the just principle of the House of 130 THE STAR-CHAMBER. Commons, that the power of the king, like every other power in the constitution, was limited by the laws, and was legally to be re- sisted when it trespassed beyond them. Such were the disputes which James held with his subjects. His timidity prevented him from pushing his claims to extremity, and al- though courtly divines and ambitious lawyers were ready to have proved, as they pretended, his absolute and indefeasible right to obedi- ence, even in unconstitutional commands, he shrunk from the contest, and left to his son much discontent which his conduct had ex- cited, but which did not immediately break into a flame. Charles held the same opinions of his own rights as a monarch, which had been infused into him by his father's instructions, and he was obstinate and persevering where James had been timid and flexible. Arbitrary courts of justice, particularly one termed the Star- chamber, aflbrded the King the means of punishing those who opposed themselves to the royal will : but the violence of authority only increased the sense of the evil, and a general discontent against the King's person and prerogative began to prevail throughout England. These menacing appearances were much in- creased by religious motives. The church of England had been since the Reformation gra- dually dividing into two parties, one of which, warmly apj)rovcd of by King James, and yet more keenly patronised by Charles, was pecu- TIIK PURITANS. 131 liarly attached to the rites and ceremonies of the church, the strict observance of particular forms, and the use of certain pontifical dresses when divine service was performed. A numer- ous party called the Puritans, although they complied with the model of the Church of En- gland, considered these peculiar rites and for- malities, on which the High Churchmen, as the opposite party began to be called, laid such stress, as remains of Popery, and things there- fore to be abolished. The Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Laud, a man of talents and learning, was devotedly at- tached to the High Church interest, and coun- tenanced by Charles, he resolved to use all the poAvers, both of the civil and spiritual courts, to subdue the refractory spirit of the Puritans, and enforce their compliance with the ceremonies which he thought so essential to the well-being of the church. If men had been left to enter- tain calm and quiet thoughts on these points, they would in time have discovered that, having chosen what was esteemed the most suitable rules for the national church, it would have been more wise and prudent to leave the con- sciences of the hearers to determine whether they would conform to them, or assemble for worship elsewhere. But prosecutions, fines, pillories, and impri- sonments, employed to restrain religious opi- nions, only make them burn the more fiercely ; and those who submitted to such sufferings with patience rather than renounce the doc- trines they had espoused, were counted as mar- 132 riTirr:''. tyrs, and followed accordingly. These dissen- sions in church and state continued to agi- tate England from year to year ; but it was the disturbances of Scotland which brought them to a crisis. The King had kept firmly in view his father's favourite project of bringing the Church of Scotland, in point of church government and church ceremonies, to the same model with that of England. But to settle a national church, with a gradation of dignified clergy, required large funds, which Scotland could not afford for such a purpose. In this dilemma, the King and his counsellors resolved, by one sweeping act of revocation, to resume to the Crown all the tithes and benefices which had been conferred upon laymen at the Reformation, and thus ob- tain the funds necessary to endow the projected bishoprics. I must try to explain to you what tithes are: By the law delivered to the Jews, the tithes, that is, the tenth part of the yearly produce of the land ; whether in animals born on the soil, or in corn, fruit, and vegetable productions, were destined to the support of the priests. The same rule was adopted by the Christian Church, and the tithes were levied from the farmer or possessor of the land, for the main- tenance of the ecclesiastical establishments. When the reformation took place, the great nobles and gentry of Scotland got grants of these tithes from the crown, engaging to take upon themselves the support of the clergy, whom they paid at as low a rate as possible. TITIIE8. 133 Those nobles and gentry who heJd such gifts, were called Titulars of dthes, answering to the English phrase of Impropriators. They used the privileges which tliey had acquired M-ith great rigour. They would not suffer the farmer to lead a sheaf of corn from the fif^ld until the tithe had been selected and removed, and in this wa^f exercised their right with far more severity than had been done by the Roman Catholic clergy, v/ho usually accepted a certain reason^ able sum of money, and thus left the proprietot of the crop to manage it as he would, instead of actually taking the tithes in kind. But the titu- lars, as they used their privilege with rigour and to the utmost, were equally tenacious in retaining it. When assembled in Parliament, or as it was termed, the Convention of Estates, the lords who w^ere possessed of grants of tithes deter- mined that, rather than yield to the revocation proposed by the Earl of Nithisdale, who was the royal commissioner, they would massacre him and his adherents in the face of the assem- bly. This purpose was so decidedly entertain- ed, that Lord Belhaven, an old blind man, placed himself close to the Earl of Dumfries, a supporter of the intended revocation, and keep- ing hold of, his neighbour with one hand, for which he apologized, as being necessary to en- able him to support himself, he held in the other the hilt of a dagger concealed in his bosom, that as soon as the general signal should be given, he might play his part in the tragedy by plunging it into Lord Dumfries's heart. Nithis- VoL. 1 12 134 TITHES. dale, learning something of this desperate reso- lution, gave the revocation up for the time, and returned to court. The King, however, was at length able, by the assistance of a convention of the clergy summoned together by the bishops, and by the general clamour of the land-owners, who com- plained of the rigorous exactions of the titulars, to obtain a partial surrender of the tithes into the power of the crown. The power of levying them in kind was suppressed ; the land- holder was invested with a right to have the tithe upon paying a modified sum, and to pur- chase the entire right from the titular (if he had the means to do so) at a rate of purchase re- stricted to seven years' rent. These alterations were attended with the greatest advantages to the country in process of time, but they were very offensive to the Scottish nobility. Charles also made an attempt to reverse some of the attainders which had taken place in his father's time, particularly that of Stewart, Earl of Bothwell. Much of this turbulent nobleman's forfeited property had fallen to the lot of the Lords of Buccleuch and Cessford, who were compelled to surrender a part of their spoils. These proceedings, as well as the revocation of the grants of tithes, highly irritated the Scottish nobility, and some wild proposals were held among tliem for dethroning Charles, and pla- cing the Marquis of Hamilton on the throne. The only remarkable consequence of this intrigue, was a trial in the long forgotten Court COURT OF CHIVALIIY. 135 V. of Chivalry, the last, it may be supposed, that will ever take place. Donald Lord Reay affirm- ed, that Mr. David Ramsay had used certain treasonable expressions in his, the said Donald's, hearing. Both were summoned to appear be- fore the High Constable of England. They appeared accordingly, in great pomp, attended by their friends. " Lord Reay," says an eye-witness, " was clothed in black velvet, embroidered with silver, carried his sword in a silver embroidered belt, and wore around his neck his badge as a Baronet of Nova Scotia. He was a tall, black, swarthy man, of a portly and stout demeanour." The defemler was next ushered in, a fair man, and having a head of ruddy hair so bushy and long, that he was usually termed Ramsay Redhead. He was dressed in scarlet, so richly embroidered with gold, that the cloth could scarcely be dis- cerned, but he was totally unarmed. While they fixed their eyes on each other sternly, the charge was read, stating that Ram- say, the defendant, had urged him. Lord Reay, to engage in a conspiracy for dethroning the King, and placing the Marquis of Hamilton upon the throne. He added, that if Ramsay should deny this, he Avould prove him a villain and traitor by dint of sword. Ramsay, for answer, called Reay " a liar and a barbarous villain, and protested he should die for it." They exchanged gloves. After many delays, the Court named a day of combat, assigning as the weapons to be used, a spear, a long sword, and a short sword or a dagger. The most minute circumstances 136 INTRODUCTION OF THE LITDROY were arranged, and provision was even mado at what time the parties might have the assist- ance of armourers and tailors, Avith hammers, nails, files, scissors, bodkins, needles, and thread. But now, when you are perhaps ex- pecting, with curiosity, a tale of a bloody fight, I have to acquaint you that the King forbade the combat, and the affair was put to sleep. Times were greatly changed since the days when almost every species of accusation might be tried by duel. Charles visited his native country in 1633, for the purpose of being crowned. He was received by the people at first with great appa- rent affection, but discontent arose on its being observed, that he omitted no opportunity of pressing upon the bishops, who had hitherto only worn plain black gowns, the use of the more splendid vestments of the English Church. This alteration of habit grievously oflended the Presbyterians, who saw in it a farther approxi- mation to the Romish ritual; while tlie nobility, remembering that they had been partly de- prived of their tithes, and that their possession of the church lands was in danger, saw with great pleasure the obnoxious prelates, for whose sake the revocation had been made, in cur the odium of the people at large. It was left for Archbishop Laud to bring alt this slumbering discontent into action, by an attempt to introduce into the divine service of the Church of Scotland a Form of Common Prayer and Liturgy similar to that used in Eng^land This, however reasonable an insti* INTO THE SCOTTISH CHURCH. 137 tution in itself, was at variance with the charac- ter of Presbyterian worship, in which the cler- gyman always addressed the Deity in extem- poraneous prayer, and in no prescribed, or re- gular form of words. King James himself, when courting the fa- vour of the Presbyterian party, had called the English service an ill-mumbled mass ; forget- ting that the objection to that ceremony applies, not to the prayers, which must be excellent, since they are chiefly extracted from Scrip- ture, but to the worship of the Eucharist, which Protestants think idolatrous, and to the service, as being couched in a foreign language. Neither of these objections applies to the English form of prayer ; but the expression of the King was not forgotten. Upon the whole, this new and most obnox- ious change in the form of public worship, throughout Scotland, where the nobility were known to be in a state of great discontent, was very ill-timed. Right or wrong, the people in genea-al were prejudiced against the innova- tion, and yet it was to be attempted, without any other authority than that of the King and the Bishops ; while both the Parliament, and a General Assembly of the Church of Scotland, had a right to be consulted in a matter so im- portant. The rash and fatal experiment was made, 23d July, 1637, in the High Church of St. Giles, Edinburgh, where the dean of the city prepared to read the new service before a numerous con- course of persons, none of whom seem to have 12* 138 OPPOSITION TO THE LITURGY. been favourably disposed to its reception. As the reader of the prayers announced the Col- lect for the day, an old woman, named Jenny Geddes, who kept a green-stall in the High Street, bawled out — " The deil colick in the wame of thee, thou false thief! dost thou say the mass at my lug ?" With that she flung at the dean's head the stool upon which she had ^been sitting, and a wild tumult instantly com- menced. The women of lower condition flew at the dean, tore the surplice from his shoul- ders, and drove him out of the church. The Bishop of Edinburgh mounted the pulpit, but was also assailed with missiles, and the win- dows were broken with stones flung by a disor- derly multitude from without. This was not all : the prelates were assaulted in the street, and misused by the mob. The life of the Bishop of Argyle was with difficulty saved by Lord Roxburgh, who carried him home in his car- riage, surrounded by his retinue with drawn swords. This tumult, which has noAV something ludi- crous in its details, was the signal for a general resistance to the reception of the Service-book throughout the whole country. The Privy Council of Scotland were lukewarm, or rather cold, in the cause. They wrote to Charles a detailed account of the tumults, and did not conceal, that the opposition to the measure was spreading far and wide. Charles was inflexible, and showed his dis- pleasure even in trifles. It was the ancient cus- tom, that a fool, or jester, was maintained at OPPOSITION TO THE LITURGY. 139 court, privileged to break his satirical jests at random. The post was then held by one Archie Armstrong, who, as he saw the Arch- bishop oiX^anterbury posting to f.oiirt, in conse- quence of the mortifying tidings from Scotland, could not help whispering the sly question, *' Who's fool now, my lord ?" For this jest, poor Archie, having been first severely whip- ped, was disgraced and dismissed from court, where no fool has again been admitted, at least in an avowed and official capacity. But Archie was a more accessible object of punishment than the malcontents in Scotland. It was in vain that Charles sent down repeated and severe messages, blaming the Privy Coun- cil, the Magistrates, and all who did not punish the rioters, and enforce the reading of the Ser- vice-book. The resistance to the measure, which was at first tumultuous, and ihe work of the low^est order, had now assumed quality and consistence. More than thirty peers, and a very great proportion of the gentry of Scotland, to- gether with the greater part of the royal burghs, had, before the month of Decem.ber, agreed not merely to oppose the Service-book, but to act together in resistance to the further intrusions of Prelacy. They were kept in union and directed by representatives appointed from among themselves, and forming separate Com- mittees, or, as they were termed. Tables or Boards of managr-ment. Under the auspices of these Tables, or Com- mittees, a species of engagement, or declara- tion, was drawn up, the principal object of liO NATIONAL COVENANT. which was, the eradication of Prelacy in all its modifications, and the establishment of Presby- tery on its purest and most simple basis. This engagement was called the National Covenant, as resembling those covenants which, in the Old Testament, God is said to have made with the people of Israel. The terms of this memo- rable league professed the Reformed faith, and abjured the rites and doctrines of the Romish Church, with which were classed the newly im- posed Liturgy and Canons. This Covenant, which had for its object to annul all of Prela- tic innovation that James's policy, and his son's violeiice, had been able to introduce into the Presbyterian Church, v/as sworn to by hun- dreds, thousands, and hundreds of thousands, of every age and description, vowing, with up- lifted hands and weeping eyes, that, with the Divine assistance, they would dedicate life and fortune to maintain the object of their solemn engagement. Undoubtedly, many persons wlio thus sub- scribed tlie National Covenant, did not serious- ly feel any apprehension that Prelacy would in- troduce Popery, or that the Book of Common Prayer was in itself a grievance which the country of Scotland did well or wisely to op- pose; but they were convinced, that in thus forcing a matter of conscience upon a whole nation, the King disregarded the rights and liber- ties of his subjects, and foresaw, that if not now withstood, he was most likely to make Iiimself absolute master of their rights and privileges in pecular as well as religious affairs, lliey tliere- COVENANTERS TAKE UP ARMS. 141 fore joined in such measures as procured a ge- neral resistance to the arbitrary power so rash- ly assumed by King Charles. Meantime, while the King negotiated and procrastinated, Scotland, though still declaring attachment to his person, was nearly in a state of general resistance. The Covenanters, as they began to be called, held a General Assembly of the Church, at which the Marquis of Hamilton attended as Lord Commissioner for the King. This im- portant meeting was held at Glasgow. There all measures pointed at by the Covenant were carried fully into effect. Episcopacy was abo- lished, the existing bishops were deprived of their power, and eight of them excommunicated for divers alleged irregularities. The Covenanters took arms to support these bold m.easures. They recalled to Scotland the numerous officers who had been trained in the wars of Germany, and committed the command of the whole to Alexander Lesley, a veteran general of skill and experience, who had pos- sessed the friendship of Gustavus Adolphus. They soon made great progress ; for the castles of Edinburgh, Dalkeith, and other national for- tresses, were treacherously surrendered, or daringly surprised, by the Covenanters. King Charles, meantime, was preparing for the invasion of Scotland with a powerful army by land and sea. The fleet was commanded by the Marquis of Hamilton, who, unwilling to commence a civil war, or, as some supposed, not being on this occasion peculiarly zealoua 142 SKIRMISH AT DUNSE LAW. in the King's service, made no attempt to pro- secute the enterprise. The fleet lay idle in the frith of Forth, while Charles in person, at the head of an army of twenty-three thousand men, gallantly equipped by the English nobility, seemed as much determined on the subjugation of his ancient kingdom of Scotland, as ever any of the Edwards or Henries of England had been. But the Scottish Covenanters showed the same determined spirit of resistance, which, displayed by their ancestors, had frustrated so many invasions. A great degree of military discipline had been introduced into their new levies, consider- ing how short time they had been on foot. They lay encamped on Dunse law, a gently sloping hill, very favourable for a military dis- play. Their camp was defended by forty field- pieces, and their army consisted of twenty-four or twenty-five thousand men. The highest Scottish nobles, as Argyle, Rothes, Cassilis, Eglinton, Dalhousie, Lindsay, Loudon, Bal- carras, and others, acted as colonels ; their captains were gentlemen of high rank and for- tune ; and the inferior commissions were chief- ly filled with veteran ofiicers who had served abroad. The utmost order was observed in their camp, while the presence of numerous clergymen kept up the general enthusiasm, and seemed to give a religious character to the war. In this crisis, when a decisive battle was to have been expected, only one very slight action took place, when a few English cavalry, re TREATY WITH THE COVENANTERS. 143 treating hastily, and in disorder, from a still smaller number of Scots, seemed to show that the invaders had not their heart in the combat. The King was surrounded by many counsel- lors, who had no interest to encourage the war; and the whole body of English Puritans consi- dered the resistance of Scotland as the triumph of the good cause over Popery and Prelacy. Charles's own courage seems to have failed him, at the idea of encountering a force so well provided, and so willing, as that of the Cove- nanters, with a dispirited army acting under divided councils. A treaty was entered into, though of an insecure character. The King granted a declaration, in which, without con- firming the acts of the Assembly of Glasgow, which he would not acknowledge as a lawful one, he agreed that all matters concerning the regulation of church government should be left to a new Convocation of the Church. Such an agreement could not be lasting. The Covenanting Lords did, indeed, disband their forces, and restore to the King's troops the strong places which they had occupied ; but they held themselves ready to take arms, and seize upon them again at the slightest, notice ; neither was the King able to introduce any considerable degree of disunion into so formi- dable a league. The General Assembly of the Church con- vened according to the treaty, failed not to con- firm all that had been done by their predeces- sors at Glasgow ; the National Covenant was renewed, and the whole conclusions of the 144 HENEWAL OP HOSTILITIES. r- TI B body were in /avour of pure and unmingled Presbytery. The Scottish Parliament, on their part, demanded several privileges, necessary, it was said, to freedom of debate, and required that the Estates of the Kingdom should be convened at least once every three years. On receiving these demands, Charles thought he beheld a formed scheme for undermining his royal authority, and prepared to renew the war. His determination involved, however, some more important consequences than even the war with Scotland. His private economy had enabled the King to support, from the crown lands and other funds, independent of parlia- mentary grants, the ordinary expenses of the state, and he had been able even to sustain the charges of the first army raised to invade Scotland, without having recourse to the House of Commons. But his treasures were now exhausted, and it became indispensable to con- voke a parliament, and obtain from it a grant of money to support the war. The Parliament met, but were too much occupied by their own grievances, to take an immediate interest in the Scottish war. They refused the supplies de- manded. The Kipg was obhged to dissolve them, and have recourse to the aid of Ireland, to the Convocation of the Church, to compul- sory loans, and other indirect methods of rais- ing money, so that his resources were exhausted by the effort. On hearing that the King was again collect- ing hi« army, and had placed himself ni its RENEWAL OF HOSTILITIES. 145 head, the Parliament of Scotland resolved on again assembling theirs. It was done with such facility, and so speedily, that it was plain they had been, during the short suspension of arms, occupied in preparing for a new rupture. They did not now wait till the King should invade Scotland, but boldly crossed the Tweed, entered England, and, advancing to the banks of the Tyne, found Lord Conway posted at Newburn, with six thousand men, having batte- ries of cannon in his front, and prepared to dis- pute the passage of the river. On 28th August, 1640, the battle of Newburn was fought. The Scots entered the ford, girdle deep, and after silencing the artillery by their superior fire, made their way across the river, and the Eng- lish fled with a speed and disorder unworthy of their national reputation. The King, surprised at this defeat, and justly distrusting the faith of many who were in his army and near his person, retreated with all his forces into Yorkshire ; and again, with more serious intentions of abiding by it, commenced a negotiation with his insurgent subjects. At the same time, to appease the growing discon- tent of the English nation, he resolved again to call a Parliament. There were, no doubt, in the royal camp, many persons to whom the presence of a Scottish army was acceptable, as serving to overawe the more violent royalists ; and the Scots were easily induced to pro- tract their stay, when it was proposed to them to receive pay and provisions at the expense of England. Vol. I. 13 146 THE LONG PARLIAMENT. The meeting of that celebrated body, called, in English history, the Long Parliament, took place on 3d November, 1640. The majority of the members were disaffected with the King's government, on account of his severity in mat- ters of religion, and his tendency to despotism in state affairs. These malcontents formed a strong party, determined to diminish the royal authority, and reduce, if they did not destroy, the hierarchy of the church. The negotiations for peace being transferred from Rippon to London, the presence of the Scottish commis- sioners was highly acceptable to those states- men who opposed the King, and the preaching of the clergymen by whom they were accompa- nied, appeared equally instructive to the citi- 'zens of London and their wives. In this favourable situation, and completely successful over the royal will, (for Charles I. could not propose to contend at once with the English Parliament and with the Scottish ar- my,) the peremptory demands of the Scots were neither light, nor easily gratilied. They required that the King should confirm every act of the Scottish Convention of Estates with whom he had been at war, recall all the procla- mations which he had sent out against them, place the fortresses of Scotland in the hands of such officers as the Convention should approve of, pay all the expenses of the war, and, last and bitterest, they stipulated, that those of the king's counsellors who had advised the late hostilities, should be punished as incendiaries. While the Scots were discussing these severe conditions CONCESSIONS OF CHARLES. 147 they remained in their quarters much at their own ease, overawing by their presence the King, and those who might be disposed to join him, and affording to the opposition party in the EngUsh Parliament an opportunity of ob- taining redress for the grievances of which they, in their turn, complained. The King, thus circumstanced, was com- pelled to give way. The oppressive courts in which arbitrary proceedings had taken place, were abolished ; every species of contrivance by which the King had endeavoured to levy money without consent of Parliament, a sub- ject on which the people of England were justly jealous, was declared unlawful ; and it was provided, that Parliaments should be sum- moned every three years. Thus the power of the King was reduced within the boundaries of the constitution : but the Parliament were not satisfied with this ge- neral redress of grievances, though including all that had hitherto been openly complained of. A strong party among the members was determined to be satisfied with nothing short of the abolition of Episcopacy in England as well as in Scotland ; and many, who did not aim at that favourite point, entertained fears, that if the King v*^ere left in possession of such powers as the constitution allowed him, he would find means of re-establishing and perpe- tuating the grievances which, for the time, he had consented to abolish. Gratified with a donation of three hundred thousand pounds, given under the delicate 148 CHARLEs'd SECOND VISIT name of brotherly assistance, the Scottish army at length retired homeward, and left the King and Parliament of England* to settle their own affairs. The troops were scarcely retm-ned to Scotland and disbanded, when Charles pro- posed to himself a visit to his native kingdom. There can be little doubt that the purpose of this royal progress was to inquire closely into the causes which had enabled the Scottish na- tion, usually divided into factions and quarrels, to act with such unanimity, and to try whether it might not be possible for the King to attach to his royal interest and person some of the principal leaders, and thus form a party who might not only prevent his English dominions from being again invaded by an army from Scotland, but might be disposed to serve him, in case he should come to an open rupture with his English Parliament. For this purpose he dispensed dignities and gifts in Scotland with an unsparing hand ; made General Lesley Earl of Leven, raised the Lords Loudon and Lyndsay to the same rank, and received into his adminis- tration several nobles who had been active in the late invasion of England. On most of these persons, the king's benefits produced little ef- fect. They considered him only as giving what, if he had dared, he would have withheld. But Charles made a convert to his interests of one nobleman, whose character and actions have rendered him a memorable person in Scottish history. This was .Tames Graham, Earl of Montrose ; a man of high genius, glowing with the ambi- TO SCOTLAND. 149 tion which prompts great actions, and conscious of courage and talents which enabled him to aspire to much by small and inadequate means. He was a poet and scholar, deeply skilled in the art of war, and possessed of a strength of con- stitution and activity of mind, by which he could sustain every hardship, and find a remedy in every reverse of fortune. It was remarked of him by Cardinal du Retz, an unquestionable iudge, that he resembled more nearly than any man of his age those great heroes, whose names and history are handed down to us by the Greek and Roman historians. As a quali- fication to this high praise, it must be added, that Montrose's courage sometimes approached to rashness, and that some of his actions arose more from the dictates of private revenge, than became his nobler qualities. The young Earl had attended the court of Charles when he came home from his travels, but not meeting with the attention or distinc- tion which he was conscious of deserving, he withdrew into Scotland, and took a zealous share in forming and forwarding the National Covenant. A man of such talent could not fail to be employed and distinguished. Mon- trose was sent by the confederated Lords of the Covenant to chastise the prelatic town of Aberdeen, and to disperse the Gordons, who were taking arms for the King under the Mar- quis of Huntly, and succeeded in both com- missions. At the battle of Newburn, he was the first man who forded the Tyne. He passed alone 13* IBO IMPRISONMENT OF MONTROSE. under the fire of the English, to ascertain the depth of the water, and returned to lead over the regiment which he commanded. Notwith- standing these services to the cause of the Covenant, Montrose had the mortification to see the Earl of Argyle, (the ancient feudal ene- my of his house,) was preferred to him by the heads of the party, and chiefly by the clergy. There was something in the fiery ambition, and unyielding purpose of Montrose, which startled inferior minds; while Argyle, dark, close, and crafty, — a man well qualified to af- fect a complete devotion to the ends of others, when he was, in fact, bent on forwarding his own, — stooped lower to court popularity, and was more successful in gaining it. The King had long observed that Montrose was dissatisfied with the party to which he had hitherto adhered, and found no difficulty in en- gaging his services for the future in the royal cause. The noble convert set so actively about inducing others to follow his example, that even during the course of the treaty at Rippon, he had procured the subscription of nineteen noblemen to a bond, engaging them- selves to unite in support of Charles. This act of defection being discovered by the Cove- nanters, Montrose was imprisoned ; and the King, on coming to Scotland, had the mortifi- cation to find himself deprived of the assist- ance of this invaluable adherent. Montrose contrived, however, to communi- cate with the King from his prison in the Cas- tle of Edinburgh, and disclosed so many cir- THE INCIDENT. 161 cumstances respecting the purposes of the Marquis of Hamilton and the Earl of Argyle, that Charles had resolved to arrest them both at one moment, and had assembled soldiers for that purpose. They escaped, however, and re- tired to their houses, where they could not have been seized, but by open violence, and at the risk of a civil war. These noblemen were recalled to Court ; and to show that the King's confidence in them was unchanged, Argyle was raised to the rank of Marquis. This ob- scure affair was called the Incident; it was never well explained ; it excited much suspi- cion of the Ring's purposes both in England and Scotland, and aggravated the disinclina- tion of the English Parliament to leave his royal power on the present unreduced footing. There can be little doubt that Montrose's disclosures to the King concerned the private correspondence which passed between the Scottish Covenanters and the opposition party in the Parliament of England, and which Charles might hope to convert into an accusa- tion of high treason against both. But as he did not feel that he possessed a party in Scot- land strong enough to contend with the great majority of the nobles of that country, he judged it best to pass over all further notice of the Incident for the time, and to leave^Scotland at least under the outward appearance of mu- tual concord. He was formally congratulated on departing a contented King from a con- tented people — a state of things which did not last long. 152 Charles's return to England. It was, indeed, impossible that Scotland should remain long tranquil, while England, with whom she was now so closely connected, was in such dreadful disorder. The King had no sooner returned from Scotland, than the quarrel betwixt him and his Parliament was renewed with more violence than ever. If either party could have reposed confidence in the other's sincerity, the concessions made by the King were such as ought to have gratified the Parliament. But the strongest suspicions were entertained by the prevailing party, that the King considered the grants which he had made, as having been extorted from him by vi- olence, and that he retained the steady purpose of reassumingthe obnoxious and arbitrary pow- er of which he had been deprived for a season, but which he still considered as part of his royal right. They therefore resolved not to quit the ascendancy which they had attained, until they had deprived the King of a large portion of his remaining power, although be- stowed on him by the constitution, that they might thus prevent his employing it for the re- covery of those arbitrary privileges which had been usurped by the throne during the reign of the Tudors. While the Parliamentary leaders argued thus, the King, on his side, complained that no con- cession, however large, was able to satisfy the demands of his discontented subjects. " He had already," he urged, " resigned all the points which had been disputed between them," and his partisans were alarmed with the idea RENEWED DEMANDS OF PARLIAMENT. 153 that it was the purpose of Parliament alto- gether to abrogate the royal authority, and, probably, to depose the reigning King. On the return of Charles to London, the Par- liament greeted him with a remonstrance, in which he was upbraided with all the real and supposed errors of his reign. At the same time, a general disposition to tumult showed itself throughout the City. Great mobs of appren- tices and citizens, not always of the lowest rank, came in tv.mult to Winchester, under the pretence of petitioning the Houses of Parlia- ment ; and as they passed Whitehall, they in- sulted, with loud shouts, the guards and ser- vants of the King. The parties soon came to blows, and blood w^as spilt between them. Party names, too, were assumed, to distin- guish the friends of the King from those who favoured the Parliament. The former were chielEly gay young men, w^ho, according to the fashion of the times, wore showy dresses, and cultivated the growth of long hair, which, ar- ranged in ringlets, fell over their shoulders. They were called Cavaliers. In distinction, those who adhered to the Parliament, assumed in their garb and deportment, a seriousness and gravity W'hich rejected all ornament ; they wore their hair, in particular, cropped short around the head, and thence gained the name of Round- heads. But it was the difference in their ideas of re- ligion, or rather of church government, whicli chiefly widened the division betwixt the two parties. The King had been bred up lo consi- 154 FIVE me:,ibers arrested. ■ '■"-■ der the preservation of the Church of England and her hierarchy, as a sacred point of duty. The Presbyterian system, on the contrary, was espoused by a large proportion of the Parlia- ment ; and they were, for the time, seconded by the other numerous classes of Dissenters, all of whom desired to see the destruction of the Church of England, however unwilling they might be that a Presbyterian Church govern- ment should be set up in its stead. The enemies of the Church of England greatly predominat- ing within the Houses of Parliament, the lords spiritual, or bishops, were finally expelled from their seats in the House of Lords, and their removal was celebrated as a triumph by the London citizens. While matters were in this state, the King committed a great imprudence. Having con- ceived that he had acquired from Montrose's discovery, or otherwise, certain information that five of the leading members of the House of Commons had been guilty of communicating with the Scots when in arms, which might authorize a charge of high treason, he formed the highly rash and culpable intention of going to the House of Commons in person, with an armed train of attendants, and causing the accused members to be arrested. By tliis ill-advised measure, Charles doubtless expected to strike terror into the opposite party ; but it proved altogether ineffectual. The five members had received private in- formation of the blow to be aimed at them, and had fled into the city, where they found num- CIVIL WATl IN" KN'CLAND. 155 bers willing to conceal and defend them. The King-, by his visit to the House of Commons, only showed that he could stoop to act almost in tlie capacity of a common constable, or catchpoll ; and that he disregarded the respect due to the representatives of the British people, in meditating such an arrest in the presence of that body. After this step on the part of the King, every chance of reconciliation seemed at an end. The Commons rejected all amicable proposals, un- less the King would surrender to them the com- mand of the militia ; and that would have been equivalent to laying his crown at their feet. The King refused to surrender the command of the militia, even for an instant ; and both par- ties prepared to take up arms. Charles left London, where the power of the Parliament was predominant, assembled what friends he could gather at Nottingham, and- hoisted the royal standard there, as the signal of civil war, on the 25th August, 1642. The hostilities which ensued, over almost all England, were of a singular character. Long accustomed to peace, the English had but little knowledge of the art of war. The friends of the contending parties assembled their follow- ers, and marched against each other, without much idea of taking strong positions, or avail- ing themselves of able mancEuvres, but with the simple and downright purpose of meeting, fighting with, and defeating those who were in arms on the other side. These battles were contested with great man- 156 CIVIL WAR IN ENGLAND. — -a hood and gallantry, but with little military skill or discipline. It was no uncommon thing, for one wing or division of the contending armies, when they found themselves victorious over the body opposed to them, to amuse them- selves with chasing the vanquished party for leagues off the field of battle, where the victory was in the mean while lost for want of their sup- port. This repeatedly happened through the precipitation of the King's cavalry, a fine body of men, consisting of the flower of the English nobility and gentry ; but as ungovernable as they were brave, and usually commanded by Prince Rupert, the King's nephew, a young man of fiery courage, not gifted with prudence corresponding to his bravery and activity. In these unhappy civil contentions, the an- cient nobility and gentry of England were chief- ly disposed to the service of the King ; and the farmers and cultivators of the soil followed them as the natural leaders. The cause of the Parliament was supported by London, with all its wealth and its numbers, and by the other large towns, sea-ports, and manufacturing dis- tricts, throughout the country. At the com- mencement of the war, the Parliament, being in possession of most of the fortified places in England, with the magazines of arms and am- munition which they contained, having also numbers of men prepared to obey their sum- mons, and with pbwer to raise large sums of money to pay them, seemed to possess great advantages over the party of Charles. But the gallantry of the King's followers was able to NEGOTIATIONS WITH THE SCOTS. 157 restore the balance, and proposals were made for peace on equal terms, which, had all parties been as sincere in seeking it, as the good and wise of each side certainly were, might then have been satisfactorily concluded. A treaty was set on foot at Oxford in the winter and spring of 1643, and the Scottish Parliament sent to England a committee of the persons employed as conservators of the peace between the kingdoms, to negotiate, if pos- sible, a pacification between the King and his Parliament, honourable for the crown, satis- factory for the liberty of the subject, and se- cure for both. But the King listened to the warmer and more passionate counsellors, who pointed out to him that the Scots would, to a certainty, do their utmost to root out Pre- lacy in a system of accommodation which they might assist in framing ; and that hav- ing, in fact, been the first who had set the example of a successful resistance to the Crown, they could not now be expected to act sincerely in any negotiation in which its inte- rests were concerned. The result was, that the Scottish Commissioners, finding themselves treated with coldness by the King, and with menace and scorn by the more vehement of his followers, left Oxford, still more displeased with the Royal cause than when they had come thither. Vol. I. 14 [ 158 CHAP. IX. A Scottish Army sent to assist that of the English Parliament — Montrose takes ad- vantage of their Absence, and, being joined by a body of Irishmen, raises the Royal Stan- dard in Scotland — Battle of Tippermuir, and Surrender of Perth— Affair at the Bridge of Dee, and Sack of Perth — Close of the . Campaign. In 1643, when the advance of spring permit- ted the resumption of hostilities, it was found that the state of the King's party was decidedly superior to that of the Parliament, and it was believed that the event of the war would be decided in the Royal favour, could the co-ope- ration of the Scots be obtained. The King privately made great offers to the Scottish na- tion, to induce them to declare in his favour, or at least remain neuter in the struggle. He called upon them to remember that he had gra- tified all their wishes, without exception, and reminded them that the late peace between England and Scotland provided, that neither country should declare war against the other without due provocation, and the consent of Parliament. But the Scottisli Convention of Estates were sensible, that if they should assist the King to conquer the English Parliament, for imitating their example of insurrection, it would be naturally followed by their undergoing THE SCOTS ARMY ASSIST THE ENGLISH. l.^'> punishment themselves for the example which they had set. They feared for the Presbyte- rian system, — some of them, no doubt, feared for themselves, — and all turned a deaf ear to the King's proposals. On the other hand a deputation from Par- liament pressed upon the Scottish Convention another clause in the treaty of peace made in 1641, namely, that the Parliament of either country should send aid to each other to repel invasion or suppress internal disturbances. In compliance with these articles, the English Commissioners desired the assistance of a body of Scottish auxiliaries. The country beingatthis time filled with disbanded officers and soldiers who were eager for employment, the oppor- tunity and the invitation were extremely tempt- ing to them, for they remembered the free- quarters and good pay which they had enjoyed while in England. Nevertheless, the leading members of the Convention of Estates were aware, that to embrace the party of the Parlia- ment of England, and despatch to their assist- ance a large body of auxiliary forces, selected, as they must be, from their best levies, would necessarily expose their authority in Scotland to considerable danger ; for the King's friends who had joined in the bond with Montrose, were menof povrer and influence, and having the will, only M'aited for the opportunity, to act in his behalf; and might raise, perhaps a formi- dable insurrection in Scotland itself, when re- lieved from the superiority of force which at present was so great on the side of the Conven- 100 NEGOTIATION OF THE ENGLISH fion. But the English Commissioners held out a bait which the Convention found it impossible to resist. From the success which the ruling party had experienced in establishing the Church of Scot- land on a Presbyterian model, and from the great influence which the clergy of that per- suasion had acquired in the councils of the na- tion by the late course of events, they were in- duced to form the ambitious desire of totally destroying the hierarchy of the Church of En- gland, and of introducing into that kingdom a form of church government on the Presbyte- rian model. To accomplish this favourite ob- ject, the leading Presbyterians in Scotland were willing to run every risk, and to make every exertion. The Commissioners of England were most ready to join with this idea of destroying Pre- lacy ; but they knew that the English Parlia- ment party were greatly divided among them- selves on the subject of substituting the Pres- byterian system in its place. The whole body of Sectarians, or independents, were totally opposed to the introduction of any national church government whatever, and were averse to that of Presbytery in particular, the Scottish clergy having, in their opinion, shown them- selves disposed to be as absolute as tlie bishops I Kid been while in power. But, with a crafty policy, the Commissioners conducted tJie nego- tiation ill such a manner as to give the Scottish Convention reason to believe, that they Avould accomplish their favourite desire of seeing the PARLIAMENT WITH THE SCOTS. 101 system which they so much admired acknow- ledged and adopted in England, while, in fact, they bound their constituents, the English Par- liament, to nothing specific on the subject. The Commissioners proposed to join with the Scottish nation in a new edition of the Covenant, which had before proved such a happy bond of union among the Scots them- selves. In this new bond of religious associa- tion, which was called the Solemn League and Covenant, it was provided, that the church go- vernment of Scotland should be supported and maintained on its present footing ; but with regard to England, the agreement was express- ed with studied ambiguity — the religious system of England, it was provided, should be reformed " according to the word of God, and the exam- ple of the best reformed churches." The Scots, usually more cautious in their transactions, never allowed themselves to doubt for a moment, that the rule and example to be adopted under this clause must necessarily be that of Presbytery, and under this conviction, both the nobles and the clergy hastened with raptures, and even with tears of joy, to sub- scribe the proposed League. But several of the English Commissioners enjoyed in secret the reserved power of interpreting the clause otherwise, and of explaining the phrase in a sense applicable to their own ideas of eman- cipation from church government of every kind. The Solemn League and Covenant was sworn to in Scotland with general acclamation, and 14* 102 SCOTTISH ARBIY ENTERS EXGLAND. was received and adopted by theEiigiisliPariia- ment with the same applause, all discussion of the dubious article being cautiously avoided. The Scots proceeded, with eager haste, to send to the assistance of the Parliament of England a well-disciplined army of upwards of twenty thousand men, under the command of Alexander Lesley, Earl of Leven. An officer of character, named Baillie, was Leven's Lieu- tenant, and David Lesley, a man of greater military talents than either, was his Major- General. Their presence contributed greatly to a decisive victory which the Parliament forces gained at Marston Moor ; and indeed, as was to be expected from their numbers and discipline, quickly served to give that party the preponderance in the field. But v/hile the Scottish auxiliaries were ac- tively serving the common cause of the Parlia- ment in England, the courageous and romantic enterprise of the Earl of Montrose broke out in a train of success, which threatened to throw Scotland itself into the hands of the King and his friends. This nobleman's bold genius, when the royalist party in Scotland seemed totally crushed and dispersed, devised the means of assembling them together, and of menacing the Convention of Estates with the destruction of their power at home, even at the moment when they hoped to establish the Presbyterian Church in both kingdoms, by the success of the .'•rniy whicli they had despatched into England. After obtaining his liberation from imprison- ment, Montrose had repaired to England, and I STATE OF PARTIES IX SCOTLAND. 103 suggested to the King a plan of operations to be executed by a body of Irish, to be despatched by the Earl of Antrim from the county of Ulster, and landed in the West Highlands. With these he proposed to unite a force col- lected from the Highland clans, who were dis- inclined to the Presbyterian government, great enemies to the Earl of Argyle, and attached to the Royal cause, because they regarded the King as a chieftain whose clan was in rebellion against him, and who, therefore, deserved the support of every faithful mountaineer. The promise of pay, to which they had never been accustomed, and the certainty of booty, would, as Montrose judiciously calculated, readily bring many chieftains and clans to the Royal standard. The powerful family of the Gordons, in Aber- deenshire, who, besides enjoying almost prince- ly authority over the numerous gentlemen of their family, had extensive influence among the mountain tribes in their neighbourhood, or, in the Scottish phrase, could command a great Highland following, might also be reckoned upon with certainty ; as they had been repeat- edly in arms for the King, had not been put down without a stout resistance, and were still warmly disposed towards the Royal cause. The support of many of the nobility and gentry in the north, might also be regarded as probable, should Montrose be able to collect a considerable force. The Episcopal establish- ment, so odious to the lords and barons of the -nuthcrn and western parts of Scotland, vras 104 STATE OF PARTIES IN SCOTLAND. popular in the north. The northern barons were displeased with the extreme strictness of the Presbyterian clergy, and dissatisfied with the power they had often assumed of interfering with the domestic arrangements of families, under pretext of maintaining moral discipline. Finally, there were in all parts of Scotland active and daring men disappointed of obtaining employment or preferment under the existing government, and therefore willing to join in any enterprise, however desperate, w^hich pro- mised a change. All this was known to the Convention of Estates ; but they had not fully estimated the magnitude of the danger. Montrose's personal talents were, to a certain extent, admitted; but ordinary men were incapable of estimating such a character as his ; and he was generally es- teemed a vain, though able young man, whose remarkable ambition was capable of urging him into undertakings which were impracticable. The great power of the Earl of Argyle was re- lied upon as a sufficient safeguard against any attempt on the West Highlands ; and his nume- rous, brave, and powerful clan, had long kept all the tribes of that country in a species of awe, if not subjection. But the character of the Highlanders was estimated according to a sort of calculation, which time had rendered very erroneous. In the former days of Scotland, when the Low- lands were inhabited by men as brave, and much better armed and disciplined than the moun- taineers, the latter had indeed often shown STATE OF PARTIES IN SCOTLAND. 1G5 themselves alert as light troops, unwearied in predatory excursions ; but had been generally, from their tumultuary charge, liable to defeat, either from a steady body of spearmen, who re- ceived their onset with lowered lances, or from an attack of the feudal chivalry of the Low- lands, completely armed and well mounted. At Harlaw, Corrichie, Glenlivat, and on many other occasions, tlie irregular forces of the Highlands had been defeated by an inferior number of their Lowland opponents. These recollections might lead the governors jf Scotland, during the civil war, to hold a Highland army in low estimation. ^ But it was without considering that half a century of unin- terrupted peace had rendered the Lowlanders much more unwarlike, while the Highlander, who always went armed, was familiar with the use of weapons which he constantly wore, and far superior in that particular, as well as in the alacrity and love of fight, to the Lowland pea- sant, called from the peaceful occupations of the farm, and only prepared, by a fev/ days' drilling, to encounter the unwonted dangers of a field of battle. The burghers, who made a forrnidable part of the array of the Scottish- army in former times, were now still more un- warlike than the peasant, being not only Mdth- out skill in arms and Aimiliarity with danger, but also the personal habits o^ exercise V\'hich the rustic mijxht have preserved. This great and essential difierence between the Highlander and Lowlander of modern days, could scarcely be estimated in tlic middle of the seventeenth 106 MONTROSE PROCEEDS TO THE century, the causes by which it was brought about being recent, and attracting Uttle attention. Montrose's first plan was to collect a body of Royalist horse on the frontiers of England, to burst at once into the centre of Scotland at their head, and force his way to Stirling, where a body of cavaliers had promised to assemble and join him. The expedition was discon- certed by a sort of mutiny among the English horse who had joined him ; in consequence of which, Montrose disbanded his handful of fol- lowers, and exhorted them to make their way to the King, or to join the nearest body of men in arms for the Royal cause, while he himself adopted a new and more desperate plan. He took with him only two friends, and disguised himself as the groom of one of them, whom he followed, ill mounted and worse dressed, and leading a spare horse. They called them- selves gentlemen belonging to Leven's army ; for, of course, if Montrose had been discovered by the Covenanting party, a rigorous captivity was the least he might expect. At one time he seemed on the point of being detected ; a straggling soldier passed his two companions, and coming up to the Earl of Montrose, saluted him respectfully by his name and title. Montrose tried to persuade him that he was mistaken; but tlie man persisted, though with tlie utmost respect and liumility of deport- ment. " Do I not know my noble Lord of Montrose ?" he said ; " But go your way, and (t(k1 be with you." The circumstance alarmed Montrose and his companions; but the poor NORTH IN DISGUISE. 167 fellow was faithful, and never betrayed his old leader. In this disguise he reached the verge of the Highlands, and lay concealed in the house of his relation, Graham of Inchbraco, and after- wards, for still greater safety, in an obscure hut on the Highland frontier, while he despatched spies in every direction, to bring him intelli- gence of the state of the Royalist party. Bad news came from all quarters. The Marquis of Huntly had taken arms hastily and impru- dently, and had been defeated and compelled to fly ; while Gordon of Haddow, one of the most active and gallant of the name, became prisoner to the Covenanters, and, to strike ter- ror into the rest of the clan, was publicly exe- cuted by order of the Scottish Parliament. Montrose's spirit was not to be broken even by this disappointment ; and, while anxiously waiting further intelligence, an indistinct ru- mour reached him that a body of soldiers from Ireland had landed in the West Highlands, and were wandering in the mountains, followed and watched by Argyle with a strong party of his clan. Shortly after, he learned, by a messen- ger despatched on purpose, that this was the body of auxiliaries sent to him from Ulster by the Earl of Antrim. Their commander was Alaster of MacDonald, a Scoto-Irishman, I be- lieve, of the Antrim family. He was called Col Kittoch, or Colkitto, from his being left-hand- ed ; a very brave and daring man, but vain and opinionative, and not understanding any thing of regular warfare. 108 BODY OF ITilc] Montrose sent orders to him to march with all speed into the district of Athole, and des- patched emissaries to raise the gentlemen of tliat country in arms, as they were generally well affected to the King's cause. He himself set out to join this little band, attired in an ordinary Highland garb, and accompanied only by Inchbraco as his guide. The Irish were surprised and disappointed to see their expected General appear so poorly dressed and attended; nor had Montrose greater reason to congratu- late himself on the appearance of his army. The force which was assembled did not exceed fifteen hundred Irish, instead of the thousands promised, and these were but indifferently armed and appointed, while only a few High- landers from Badenoch were yet come to the appointed rendezvous. These active mountain warriors, however, had, a day or two before, been at blows with the Covenanters. Macpherson of Cluny, chief of his name, had sent out a party of men to look out for Montrose, who was looked for every minute. They beheld the approach of a de- tached body of horse, which they concluded was the escort of their expected General. But when they approached nearer, the MacPher- sons found it to be several troops of the Cove- nanters' cavalry, commanded by Colonel Her- ries, and quartered in Glencairn, for the sake of bridling the Highlanders. Wliile tin; troops were coming on in formi- dable superiority of numbers, MacPherson of Invereshie, who was drawing up his Highland- ASSISTANCE OF MONTROSE. 1(59 crs for action, observed one of them in the act of stooping; and as he lifted his stick to strike him for such conduct in the face of the enemy, the Highlander arose, and showed him the countenance of MacPherson of Dalifour, one of the boldest men of the clan. Highly sur- prised, Invereshie demanded how he, of all men, could think of stooping before an enemy. " I was only fastening a spur on the heel of my brogue," said Dalifour, with perfect com- posure. "A spur! and for what purpose, at such a time and place as this ?" asked Invere- shie. " I intend to have a good horse before the day is over," answered the clansman, with the same coolness. Dalifour kept his 'vvord ; for the Lowland horse being v/orsted in the first onset, he got possession of a charger, on which he followed the pursuit, and brought in two prisoners. The report of this skirmish gave a good specimen to Montrose of the mettle of the mountaineers, while the subsequent appear- ance of the Athole men, eight hundred strong, and the enthusiastic shouts with which they received their General, soon gave confidence to the light-hearted Irishmen. He instantly commenced his march upon Strathern, and crossed the Tay. He had scarce done so, when he discovered on the hill of Buchanty a body of about four hundred men, who, he had the satisfaction to learn by his scouts, were commanded by two of his own particular friends, Lord Kilpont and Sir John Drum- mond. They had taken arms, on hearing that Vol. I. 15 1*70 BATTLE OF TIPPERMUIR. a body of Irish were traversing the country ; and learning that they were there under Mont- rose's command, for the King's service, they immediately placed themselves and their fol- lowers under his orders. Montrose received these succours in good time, for while Argyle pursued him with a large body of his adherents, who had followed the track of the Irish, Lord Elcho, the Earl of Tullibardin, and Lord Drummond, had collect- ed an army of Lowlanders to protect the city of Perth, and to fight Montrose, in case he should descend from the hills. Montrose was aware, that siich an enterprise as he had un- dertaken, could only be supported by an excess of activity and decision. He therefore advanced upon the Lowland forces of Elcho, whom he found, on 1st September, 1644, drawn up in good order in a large plain called Tippermuir, within three miles of Perth. They were nearly double Montrose's army in number, and much encouraged by numerous ministers, who ex- horted them to fight valiantly, and promised them certain victory. They had cannon also, and cavalry, whereas Montrose had no artillery, and only three horses in his army. After a skirmish with the Covenanters' ca- valry, in which they were beaten off, Montrose charged with the Highlanders, under a heavy fire from his Irish musketeers. They burst into the ranks of the enemy with irresistible fury, and compelled them to fly. Once broken, the superiority of numbers became useless, as the means of supporting a main body by re- SURRENDEIi OF PERTH. 171 serves was not then known or practised. The Covenanters fled in the utmost terror and con- fusion, but the light-footed Highlanders did great execution in the pursuit. Many honest burghers, distressed by the extraordinary speed which they were compelled to exert, broke their wind, and died in consequence. Mon- trose sustained little or no loss. The town of Perth surrendered, and for this act a long string of reasons were given, which are rather a:r.iT:ir!gly stated in a letter from the ministers of that town; but we have only space to mention a few of them. First, it is alleged, that out of Elcho's defeated army, only about twelve of the Fifeshire men off'ered themselves to the magistrates in defence of the town, and most of them were pot-valiant from liquor. Secondly, the citizens had concealed them- selves in cellars and vaults, where they lay panting in vain endeavours to recover the breath which they had wasted in their retreat, scarcely finding words enough to tell the Pro- vost, " that their hearts were away, and that they would fight no more though they should be killed." Thirdly, the letter states, that if the citizens had had the inclination to stand out, they had no means, most of them having flung away their weapons in their flight. Fourthly, the enemy were, it is said, drawn up like so many hellhounds before the gates of the town, their hands deeply dyed in the blood recently shed, and demanding, with hideous cries, to be led to further slaughter. 'I'he magistrates perhaps deserve no blame, 172 SURRENDER OF PERTH. if they capitulated in such circumstances, to avoid the horrors of a storm. But their con- duct shows, at the same time, how much tlic people of the Lowlands had degenerated in point of military courage. Perth consequently opened its gates to the victor. But Argyle, whose northern army had been augmented by a considerable body of ca- valry, was now approaching with a force, against which Montrose could not pretend to defend an open town. He abandoned Perth, therefore, and marched into Angus-shire, hoping he might find adherents in that county. Ac- cordingly, he was there joined by the old Earl of Airlie and two of his sons, who never forsook him in success or disaster. This accession of strength was counterba- lanced by a shocking event. There was a High- land gentleman in Montrose's camp, named James Stewart of Ardvoirlich, whose birtli had been attended with some peculiar circum- stances, which, though they lead me from my present subject, I cannot refrain from noticing. While his mother was pregnant, there came to the house of Ardvoirlich a band of outlaws, called Children of the Mist, MacGregors, some say, others call them MacDonalds of Ardna- murchan. They demanded food, and the lady caused bread and cheese to be placed on the table, and went into the kitchen to order a better meal to be made ready, such being the unvarying process of Highland hospitality, Wlien the poor lady returned, she saw upon the U\h](\ with its moulh stutVed full of food, the MURDER OF LORD KILPOXT. 173 bloody head of her brother, Drummond of Drummondernoch, whom the outlaws had met and murdered in the wood. The poor woman shrieked, ran wildly into the forest, where, notwithstanding strict search, she could not be found for many weeks. At length she was secured, but in a state of insanity, which doubt- less was partly communicated to the infant of whom she was shortly after delivered. The lad, however, grew up. He was an uncertain and dangerous character, but distinguished for his muscular strength, which was so great, that he could, in grasping the hand of another person, force the blood from under the nails. This man was much favoured by the Lord Kilpont, M'hose accession to the King's party we lately mentioned; indeed, he was admitted to share that young nobleman's tent and bed. It appears that Ardvoirlich had disapproved of the step which his friend had taken in joining Montrose, and that he had solicited the young lord to join him in deserting from the Royal army, and, it is even said, in murdering the General. Lord Kilpont rejected these 'pro- posals with disdain, w^hen, either offended at his expressions, or fearful of his exposing his treacherous purpose, Ardvoirlich stabbed Kil- pont mortally with his dagger. He then kill- ed the sentinel, and escaped to the camp of Argyle, where he received preferment. Mon- trose was awakened by the tumult which this melancholy event excited in the camp, and rushing into the crowd of soldiers, had the mortification to see the bleeding corpse of his 15* 174 MARCH ON ABERDEEN. noble friend, thus basely and treacherously murdered. The death of this young nobleman was a great loss to the Royal cause. Montrose, so much inferior in numbers to his enemies, could not well form any fixed plan of operations. He resolved to make up for this, by moving with the most extraordina- ry celerity from one part of the country to another, so as to strike severe blows where they were least expected, and take the chance of awakening the drooping spirit of the Roy- alists. He therefore marched suddenly to Aberdeen, to endeavour to arouse the Gor- dons to arms, and defeat any body of Cove- nanters which might overawe the King's friends in that country. His army was now, however, greatly re- duced in numbers ; for the Highlanders, who had no idea of serving for a whole campaign, had gone home to their own districts, to lodge their booty in safety, and get in their harvest. It was, on all occasions, the greatest inconveni- ence attending a Highland army, that after a battle, whether they won the day or lost it, they were certain to leave their standard in great numbers, and held it their undoubted right to do so ; insomuch, that a victory thin- ned their ranks as much as a defeat is apt to do those of other armies. It is true, that they could be gathered again with equal celerity ; but this humour, of deserting at their pleasure, was a principal reason why the brilliant victo- ries of Montrose were productive of few de- cided results. DEFEAT OF LORD LEWIS GORDON. 175 On reaching Aberdeen, Montrose hastened to take possession of the Bridge of Dee, the principal approach to that town, and having made good this important point, he found him- self in front of an army commanded by Lord Burleigh. He had the mortification also to find, that part of a large body of horse in the Covenanting army were Gordons, who had been compelled to take arms in that cause by Lord Lewis Gordon, the second son of the Marquis of Huntly, a wild and wilful young man, whose politics differed from those of his father and family. Finding himself greatly inferior in horse, of which he had not fifty, Montrose intermingled with his cavalry some of his musketeers, who, for breath and speed, could keep up with the movements of such horse as he possessed. The Gordons, not perhaps very favourable to the side on which they ranked, made an ineffect- ual attack upon the horse of Moijtrose, which was repelled. When the mingled musketeers and cavalry advanced on them, Lord Lewis's men fled, in spite of his own personal exer- tions ; and Montrose, we are informed, found it possible to move his handful of cavalry to the other wing of his army, and to encounter and defeat the horse of the Covenanters on both flanks successively with the same wearied party of riders. The terror struck into his opponents by the novelty of mixing mus- keteers with cavalry, contributed not a little to this extraordinary success. While this vras passing, ihe iv.o l>;) . hill, and it was said that the cautious Baillie would have avoided the encounter, had it not been that, having crossed the river Don, in the belief that Montrose was in full retreat, he only discovered his purpose of giving battle when it was too late to decline it. The number of in- fantry was about two thousand in each army. But Baillie had more than double his opponent's number of cavalry. Montrose's, indeed, were gentlemen, and therefore in the day of battle were more to be relied on than mere hire- lings. The Gordons dispersed the Covenanting horse on the first shock ; and the musketeers, throwing down their muskets, and mingling in the tumult with their swords drawn, prevented the cavalry from rallying. But as Lord Gordon threw himself for the second time, into the heat of the fight, he fell from his horse, mortally wounded by a shot from one of the fugitives. This accident, which gave the greatest distress to Montrose, suspended the exertions of the cavalry, who, chiefly friends, kinsmen, and vassals of the deceased, flocked around him to lament the general loss. But the veterans of Montrose, charging in columns of six and ten men deep, along a line of three men only, broke that of the Covenanters on various points, and utterly destroyed the remnant of Baillie's army though they defended themselves bravely. These repeated victories gave such lustre to Montrose's arms, that he was now joined by the Highland clans in great numbers, and by many of the Lowland anti-covenanters, who had be- PLAGUE IN EDINBURGH. 189 fore held back, from doubt of his success in so unequal a contest. On the other hand, the Convention of Es- tates, supported by the counsels of Argyle,who was bold in council though timid in battle, per- severed in raising new troops, notwithstanding their repeated misfortunes and defeats. It seemed, indeed, as if Heaven had at this disas- trous period an especial controversy with the kingdom of Scotland. To the efforts necessary to keep up and supply their auxiliary army in England, were added the desolation occasioned by a destructive civil war, maintained in the north with equal fury and success, and con- ducted on both sides with deplorable devasta- tion. To- these evils, as if not sufficient to exhaust the resources of a poor country, were now added those of a wide-wasting plague, or pesti- lence, which raged through all the kingdom, but especially in Edinburgh, the metropolis. The Convention of Estates were driven from the capital by this dreadful infliction, and re- treated to Perth, where they assembled a large force under General Baillie, while they or- dered a levy of ten thousand men throughout the kingdom. While Lanark, Cassilis, Eglin- ton, and other lords of the western shires, went to their respective counties to expedite the measure, Montrose, with his usual activity, de- scended from the mountains at the head of an army augmented in numbers, and flushed with success. He first approached the shores of the Forth, 190 DESTRUCTION OF CASTLE-CAMPBELL. by occupying the shire of Kinross. And here I cannot help mentioning the destruction of a noble castle belonging to the House of Argyle. Its majestic ruins are situated on an eminence occupying a narrow glen of the Ochil chain of hills. In former days, it was called, from the character of its situation perhaps, the Castle of Gloom ; and the names of the parish, and the stream by which its banks are washed, had also an ominous sound. The Castle of Gloom was situated on the brook of Grief or Gryfe, and in the parish of Dollar or Dolour. In the sixteenth century, the Earl of Argyle, the owner of this noble fortress, obtained an act of parliament, for changing its name to Castle Campbell. The feudal hatred of Montrose, and of the clans composing the strength of his army, the vindictive resent- ment also of the Ogilvies, for the destruction of " the Bonnie House of Airlie," and that of the Stirlingshire cavaliers for that of Menstrie, doomed this magnificent pile to flames and ruin. The destruction of many a meaner habi- tation by the same unscrupulous spirit of ven- geance has been long forgotten, but the majes- tic remains of Castle Campbell still excite a sigh in those that view them, over the miseries of civil war. After similar acts of ravage not to be justified, though not unprovoked, Montrose marched westward along the northern margin of the Forth, insulting Perth, where the army of the Covenanters remained in their entrenchments, and even menacing the Castle of Stirling, BATTLE OF KILSYTH. 191 wliich, well garrisoned and strongly situated, defied his means of attack. About six miles above Stirling, he crossed the Forth, by the deep and precarious ford which the river pre- sents before its junction with the Teith. Hav- ing attained the southern bank, he directed his course westward, with the purpose of di?pers- ing the levies which the western lords were collecting, and doubtless with the view of plun- dering the country, which had attached itself chiefly to the Covenant. Montrose had, how- ever, scarcely reached Kilsyth, when he re- ceived the news that Baillie's army, departing from Perth, had also crossed the Forth, at the Bridge of Stirling, and was close at hand. With his usual alacrity, Montrose prepared for battle, which Baillie, had he been left to his own judgment, would have avoided ; for that skilful though unfortunate General knew by experience the talents of Montrose, and that the character of his troops was admirably qualified for a day of combat ; while he also considered that an army so composed might be tired out by cautious operations, and expected that the Highlanders and Lowland Cavaliers would alike desert their leader in the course of a protracted and indecisive warfare. But Baillie w^as no longer the sole com- mander of the Covenanting army. A Com- mittee of the Estates, consisting of Argyle, Lanark, and Crawford-Lindsay, had been nominated to attend his army, and control his motions ; and these, especially the Earl of Lindsay, insisted that the veteran General 192 Montrose's PLAN should risk the last regular army which the Covenanters possessed in Scotland, in the perils of a decisive battle. They marched against Montrose, accordingly, at break of day on the 15th August, 1645. When Montrose beheld them advance, he exclaimed that it was what he had most earn- estly desired. He caused his men to strip to their shirts, in token of their resolution to fight to the death. Meantime the Covenanters approached. Their vanguard attacked an ad- vanced post of Montrose which occupied a strong position among cottages and enclosures. They were beaten off with loss. A thousand Highlanders, with their natural impetuosity, rushed, without orders, to pursue the fugitives, and to assault the troops who were advancing to support them. Two regiments of horse, against whom this mountain torrent directed its fury, became disordered and fell back. Montrose saw the decisive moment, and or- dered his whole army to attack the enemy, who had not yet got into line, their rearguard and centre coming up too slowly to the support of their vanguard. The hideous shout with which the Highlanders charged, their wild appear- ance, and the extraordinary speed with which they advanced, nearly naked, broadsword in hand, struck a panic into their opponents, who dispersed without any spirited effort to get into line of battle, or maintain their ground. The Covenanters were beaten off the field, and pur- sued with indiscriminate slaughter for more than ten miles. Four or five thousand men TO marc;- IXiO ENGLAXD. 193 Were slain iiiihe lield and in the flight; and the force of the Convention was for the time entirely broken. Montrose was now master, for the moment, of the kingdom of Scotland. Edinburgh sur- rendered ; Glasgow paid a heavy contribution; the noblemen and other individuals of distinc- tion who had been imprisoned as royalists in Edinburgh, and elsewhere throughout the kingdom, were set at liberty ; and so many persons of quality now declared for Montrose, either from attachment to the royal cause, which they had hitherto concealed, or from the probability of its being ultimately successful, that he felt himself in force sufficient to call a Parliament at Glasgow in the King's name. Still, however, the success of this heroic leader had only given him possession of the open country ; all the strong fortresses were still in possession of the Covenanters ; and it would have required a length of time, and the services of an army regularly disciplined and supplied with heavy artillery, to have reduced the Castles of Edinburgh, Stirling, Dumbarton, and other places of great strength. But if Montrose had had the forces necessary for such a work, he had neither leisure nor inclination to undertake it. From the beginning of his extraordinary, and hitherto successful career, he had secretly entertained the dazzling hope of leading a victorious army into England, and replacing King Charles in possession of his disputed authority. It was a daring scheme ; yet if the King's affairs in England had re- VoL. I 17 I;)! MONTR0M-: AT' niained in any tolerable condition, especially if there h;id been any considerable army of Roy- alists in the north of England to join or co- operate with Montrose, there is no calculating what the talents and genius of such an enter- prising general might have ultimately done in support of the Royal cause. But King Charles, as I shall presently tell you more particularly, had suffered so many and such fatal losses, that it may be justly doubted whether the assistance of Montrose, unless at the head of much larger forces than he could be expected to gather, would have af- forded any material assistance against the nu- merous and well-disciplined army of the Par- liament. The result of a contest which was never tried can only be guessed at. Mon- trose's own hopes and confidence were as lofty as his ambition ; and he did not permit him- self to doubt the predictions of those who as- sured him, that he was doomed to support the tottering throne, and reinstate in safety the falling monarch. Impressed with such proud convictions, he wrote to the King, urging him to advance to the northern border, and form a junction with his victorious army ; and concluding his re- quest with the words which Joab, the lieute- nant of King David, is recorded in Scripture to have used to the King of Israel,—" I have fought against Rabbah, and have taken the city of waters. Now therefore gather the rest of the people together, and encamp against the city, and take it ; lest I take the city, and it be called after my name." CAPTAIN-GENERAL. 195 While Montrose was thus urging King Charles, by the brilliant prospects which he held out, to throw himself on his protection, his own army mouldered away and dispersed, even in a greater degree than had been the case after his less distinguished success. The Highland clans went home to get in their har- vest, and place their spoil in safety. It was needless and useless to refuse them leave, for they were determined to take it. The north- country gentlemen also, wearied of the toils of the campaign, left him in numbers ; so that when Montrose received, by the hands of Sir Robert Spottiswood, the King's commission under the Great Seal, naming him Captain- General and Lieutenant-Governor of Scotland, he commanded a force scarcely more effective than when he was wandering through Athole and Badenoch. The King's orders, however, and his own indomitable spirit of enterprise, determined his march towards the Borders. About fifty years before, these districts would have supplied him, even upon the light- ing of their beacons, with ten thousand caval- ry, as fond of fighting and plunder as any Highlander in his army. But that period, as I have told you, had passed away. The inhabi- tants of the Borderland had become peaceful, and the chiefs and lords, whose influence might still have called them out to arms, were hostile to the Crown, or, at best, lukewarm in its cause. The Earl of Buccleuch, and his friends of the name of Scott, who had never forgot- ten the oflfence given by the revocation of 19(5 BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH. James's donations to their chief, were violent Covenanters, and had sent a strong clan-regi- ment with the Earl of Leven and the Scottish auxiliaries. Traquair, Roxbiirghe, and Hume, all entertained, or aflected, regard to the King, but made no effectual effort in raising men. The once formidable name of Douglas, and the exertions of the Earl of Annandale, could only assemble some few troops of horse, whom the historian, Bishop Guthrie, describes as truthless trained bands. Montrose expected to meet a body of more regular cavalry, who were to be despatched from England ; but the King's continued misfortunes prevented him from making such a diversion. Meanwhile the Scottish army in England re- ceived an account of the despair to which the battle of Kilsyth had reduced the Convention of Estates, and learned that several of its most distinguished members were already ex- iles, having fled to Berwick and other strong places on the Border, which were garrisoned by the Parliamentary forces. The importance of the crisis was felt, and David Lesley was despatched, at the head of five or six thousand men, chiefly cavalry, and the flower of the Scottish auxiliary army, with the charge of checking the triumphs of Montrose. Lesley crossed the Border at Berwick, and proceeded on his march, as if it had been his view to get between Montrose and the High- lands, and to prevent his again receiving as- sistance from his faitliful mountaineers. But that sagacious general's intentions were of a BATTLE OF PHILIPHAUGH. 1P7 more decisive character ; for learning that Montrose, with his little army, lay quartered in profound security near Selkirk, he suddenly altered his march, left the Edinburgh road when he came to Edgebucklingbrae, crossed the country to Middleton, and then turning southward, descended the vale of the Gala to Melrose, in which place, and the adjacent ham- lets, he quartered his army for the night. Montrose's infantry, meanwhile, lay encamp- ed on an elevated place, called Philiphaugh, on the left bank of the Ettrick, while his cavalry, with their distinguished general in person, were quartered in the town of Selkirk ; a con- siderable stream being thus interposed betwixt the two parts of his army, which should have been so stationed as to be ready to support each other on a sudden alarm. But Montrose had no information of the vicinity of Lesley, though the Covenanters had passed the night within five miles of his camp. This indicates that he must have been very ill served by his own patrols, and that his cause must have been unpopular in that part of the country, since a single horseman, at the expense of half an hour's gallop, might have put him fully on his guard. On the morning of the 13th September, 1645, Lesley, under cover of a thick mist, approach- ed Montrose's camp, and had the merit, by his dexterity and vigilance, of surprising him Avhom his enemies had never before found unpre- pared. The Covenanting general divided his troops into two divisions, and attacked both 17* 198 MONTROSE DEFEATED. flanks of Uie enemy at the same time. Those on the left made but a tmiiultiiary and imper- fect resistance ; the right wing, supported by a vrood, fought in a manner worthy of their ge- neral's fame. Montrose himself, roused by the firing and noise of the action, hastily assembled his cavalry, crossed the Ettrick, and made a desperate attempt to recover the victory, omit- ting nothing which courage or skill could achieve, to rally his followers. But when at length left with only thirty horse, he was com- pelled to fly, and, retreating up the Yarrow, crossed into the vale of Tweed, and reached Peebles, where some of his followers joined him. The defeated army suffered severely. The prisoners taken by the Covenanters were mas- sacred without mercy, and in cold blood. They were shot in the court-yard of Newark Castle, upon Yarrow, and their bodies hastily interred at a place, called, from that circumstance, Slain- men's-lec. The ground being, about twenty years since, opened for the foundation of a school-house, the bones and skulls, which were dug up in great quantity, plainly showed the truth of the country tradition. Many cavaliers, both officers and others, men of birth and cha- racter, the companions of Montrose's many tri- umphs, fell into the hands of the victors, and were, as we shall afterwards see, put to an ig- nominious death. The prisoners, both of high and low degree, would have been more numer- ous, but for the neighbourhood of the Hare- head-wood, into which the fugitives escaped MONTROSE LEAVES SCOTLAND. 199 Such were the immediate consequences of this battle ; concerning which, the country people often quote the following lines : — At Philiphaugh the fray begu'd ; At Harehead-wood it ended. The Scots out owre the Grahams they rode, Sae merrily they bended. Montrose, after this disastrous action, re- treated again into the Highlands, where he once more assembled an army of mountaineers. But his motions ceased to be of the consequence which they had acquired, before he had expe- rienced defeat. General Middleton, a man of military talents, but a soldier of fortune, was despatched against him by the Convention of Estates, who were eager to recover the same power in the Highlands, in which David Les- ley's victory had repossessed them throughout the Lowlands. While thus engaged in an obscure mountain warfare, the King, in total despair of Mon- trose's safety, sent orders to him to dissolve his army, and to provide for his personal secu- rity, by leaving the kingdom. He would -not obey the first order, concluding it had been ex- torted from the monarch. To a second, and more peremptory injunction, he yielded obedi- ence, and, disbanding his army, embarked in a brig bound for Bergen, in Norway, with a few adherents, who were too obnoxious to the Co- venanters to permit of their remaining in Scot- land. Lest their little vessel should be search- ed by an English ship of war, Montrose wore 200 MONTROSE LEAVES SCOTLAND. the disguise of a domestic, and passed for the servant of his chaplain and biographer, Dr. George Wishart. You may remember that he wore a similar disguise on entering Scotland, in order to commence his undertaking. This, and the preceding chapter, give an ac- count of the brief, but brilliant period of Mon- trose's success. A future one will contain the melancholy conclusion of his exertions, and of his life. I [ 201 ] CHAP. XL Interference of the Presbyterian Clergy to pro- cure the execution of the Prisoners taken at Philiphaugh — Reflections on the unhappy effects of Religious Persecution — Respective views of the Independents and Presbyteri- ans — CromwelVs success — King Charleses surrender to the Scottish Army — Their sur- render of him to the English Parliament. I MUST now tell you the fate of the unfortu- nate cavaliers who had been made prisoners at Philiphaugh. The barbarous treatment of the common men you are already acquainted with. Argyle, the leader of the Convention of Es- tates, had to resent the devastation of his coun- try, and the destruction of his castles ; and his desire of vengeance was so common to the age, that it would have been accounted neglect of his duty to his slain kinsmen and plundered clan, if he had let slip the favourable opportu- nity of exacting blood for blood. Other noble- men of the Convention had similar motives ; and, besides, they had all been heartily alarm- ed at Montrose's success ; and nothing makes men more pitiless tha.n the recollection of re- cent fears. It ought partly to have assuaged these vin- dictive feelings, that Montrose's ravages^ al- though they were sufficiently Wasting, were less encouraged by the officers, than arising from 302 EXECUTION OF PRISONERS the uncontrollable license of an unpaid soldiery. The prisoners had always been treated with honour and humanity, and frequently dismissed on parole. So that, if the fate of Montrose's companions had depended on the Convention alone, it is possible, that almost all might have been set at liberty upon moderate conditions. But unfortunately, the Presbyterian clergy thought proper to interfere strenuously be- tween the prisoners, and the mercy which they might otherwise have experienced. And here it must be owned, that the Presby- terian ministers of that period were in some respects a different kind of men from their pre- decessors, in the reign of James VI. Malice cannot, indeed, accuse them of abusing the power which they had acquired since their suc- cess in 1640, for the purpose of increasing ei- ther their own individual revenues, or those of the church ; nor had the system of strict mora- lity, by which they were distinguished, been in any degree slackened. They remained in tri- umph, as they had been in suffering, honourably poor, and rigidly moral. But yet, though inaccessible to the tempta- tions of avarice or worldly pleasure, the Pres- byterian clergy of this period cannot be said to have been superior to ambition and the desire of power ; and as they were naturally apt to think that the advancement of religion was best secured by the influence of the church, they were disposed to extend that influence by the strictest exertion of domestic discipline. Inquiry into the conduct of individual? wan i TAKEN AT PHILIPHAUGH. 203 carried on by the Church-courts with indecent eagerness ; and faults or follies, much fitter for private censure and admonition, were brought forward in the face of the public congre- gation. The hearers were charged every Sab- bath-day, that each individual should com- municate to the Kirk-Session (a court com- posed of the clergyman and certain selected laymen of the parish) whatever matter of scan- dal or offence against religion and morality should come to their ears ; and thus an inquisi- torial power was exercised by one half of the parish over the other. This was well meant, but had ill consequences. Every idle story being made the subject of anxious investiga- tion, the private happiness of families was dis- turbed, and discord and suspicion were sown where mutual confidence is most necessary. This love of exercising authority in families, was naturally connected with a desire to main tain the high influence in the state, which the Presbyterian church had acquired since the downfall of prelacy. The clergy had become used to consider their peculiar form of church government, which unquestionably has many excellencies, as something almost as essential as religion itself; and it was but one step farther, to censure any who manifested a design to de- stroy the system, or limit the power, of the Presbyterian discipline, as an enemy to religion of every kind, nay, even to the Deity himself. Such opinions were particularly strong amongst those of the clergy who attended the armies in the field, seconded them by encouragement 204 i<:xEciTTi()N or prison krs tVom the pulpits, or aided them by actually as- suming arms themselves. The ardom* of such men grew naturally more enthusiastic in proportion to the opposition they met with, and the dangers they encoun- tered. The sights and sentiments which attend civil conflict, are of a kind to reconcile the human heart, however generous and hu- mane by nature, to severe language and cruel actions. Accordingly, we cannot be surprised to find that some of the clergy forgot that a malignant^ so they called a Royalist, was still a countryman and fellow Christian, born under the same government, and hoping to be saved by the power of the same creed, with themselves ; or that they directed against such persons those texts of Scripture, in which the Jews were, by especial commission, commanded to extirpate the heathen inhabi tants of the Promised Land. One of these preachers enlarged on such a topic after Lesley's victory, and chose his text from the 15th chapter of 1st Samuel, where the prophet rebukes Saul for sparing the King of the Amalekites, and for having saved &ome part of the flocks and herds of that peo- ple, which Heaven had devoted to utte]> de- struction, — "What meaneth this bleating of sheep in mine ears ?" In his sermon, he said that Heaven demanded the blood of the prison- ers taken at Philiphaugh, as devoted by the Di- vine command to destruction ; nor could the sins of the people be otherwise atoned for, or the wrath of Heaven averted from the land. It tap: EN AT PHILIPHArOH. 305 is probable, that the preacher was himself sati.-?- , lied with the doctrine which he promulg-ated ; for it is wonderful how people's judgment is blinded by their passions, and how apt we are to find plausible, and even satisfactory rea- sons, for doing what our interest, or that of the party we have embraced, strongly recommends. The Parliament, consisting entirely of Cove- nanters, instigated by the importunity of the clergy, condemned eight of the most distin- guished cavaliers to execution. Four were ap- pointed to suffer at St. Andrews, that their blood might be an atonement, as the phrase went, for the number of men (said to exceed five thousand) whom the county of Fife had lost during Montrose's wars. Lord Ogilvy was the first of these ; but that young nobleman escaped from prison and death in his sister's clothes. Colonel Nathaniel Gordon, one of the bravest men and best soldiers in Europe, and six other cavaliers of the first distinction, were actually executed. We may particularly distinguish the fate of Sir Robert Spottiswood, who, when the wars broke out, was Lord President of the Court of Session, and acciounted a judge of great talent and learning. He had never borne arms ; but the crime of having brought to Montrose his commission as Captain-General of Scotland, was thought quite worthy of death, without any further act of treason against the Estates. When on the scaffold, he vindicated his con- duct with the dignity of a judge, and the talents of a lawyer. He was silenced by the Provost Vol. L 18 206 EXECUTION OF PRISONERS of St. Andrews, who had formerly been a ser- vant of his father's when Prelate of that city. The victim submitted to this indignity with calmness, and betook himself to his private de- votions. He was even in this task interrupted by the Presbyterian minister in attendance, who demanded of him whether he desired the benefit of his prayers, and those of the assem- bled people. Sir Robert replied, that he ear- nestly demanded the prayers of the people, but rejected those of the speaker ; for that, in his opinion, God had expressed his displeasure against Scotland, by sending a lying spirit into the mouth of the prophets, — a far greater curse, he said, than those of sword, fire, and pesti- lence. An old servant of his family took care of his body, and buried him privately ; and it is said that this faithful domestic, passing through the market-place a day or two after- wards, and seeing the scaffold on which his' master had suflfered still unremoved, and stained with his blood, was so greatly affected, that he sunk down in a swoon, and died as they were lifting him over his own threshold. Such are the terrible scenes which civil dis- cord gives occasion to ; and, my dear child, you will judge very wrong if you suppose them pe- culiar to one side or the other of the contending parties in the present case. You will learn hereafter, that the same disposition to abuse power, which is common, I fear, to all who possess it in an unlimited degree, was exer- cised by the Episcopalian party over the Pres- byterians, when their hour of authority revived. TAKEN AT PHILIPHAUGH. 207 We must now turn our thoughts to England, the very stage on which the most important scenes were acting, to which those in Scot- land can only be termed very subordinate. And here I may remark, that, greatly to the ho- nour of the English nation, owing, perhaps, to the natural generosity and good humour of the people, or to the superior influence of civiliza- tion, their civil war, though contested with the utmost fury in the open field, was not marked by any thing approaching to the violent atrocities of the Irish, or the fierce and ruth- less devastation exercised by the Scottish com- batants. The days of deadly feud had been long past, if the English ever knew that infernal custom, and the spirit of malice and hatred which it fostered had no existence in that country. The English parties contended manfully in battle, but unless in the storming of towns, when all evil passions are afloat, they seem seldom to have been guilty of cruelty or wasteful ravage. They combated like men who have quarrelled on some special point, but, having had no ill-will against each other before, are resolved to fight it out fairly, without bearing malice. On the contrary, the cause of Prelacy or Presbytery, King or Parliament, was often what was least in the thoughts of the Scottish barons, who made such phrases indeed the pretext for the war, but in fact looked forward to indulging, at the expense of some rival family, the treasured vengeance of a hundred years. But though the English spirit did not intro- 208 RELIGIOUS PERSECUTION. (luce into their civil war the savage aspect of the Scottish feuds, they were not free from the religious dissensions, which formed another curse of the age. I have already said, that the party which opposed itself to the King and the Church of England, was, with the followers of the Parliament, and the Parliament itself, di- vided into two factions, that of the Presbyteri- ans, and that of the Independents. I have slso generally mentioned the points on which these two parties differed. I must now notice them more particularly. The Presbyterian establishment, as I have often stated, differs from that of the Church of England, in the same manner as a republic, all the members of which are on a footing of equality, differs from a monarchical constitu- tion. In the Kirk of Scotland, all the ministers are on an equality ; in the Church of England, there is a gradation of ranks, ascending from the lowest order of clergymen to the rank of bishop. But each system is alike founded upon the institution of a body of men, qualified by studies of a peculiar nature to become preach- ers of the gospel, and obliged to show they are so qualified, by undergoing trials and examinations of their learning and capacity, before they can take holy orders, that is to say, become clergymen. It is also the rule alike of Episcopalians and Presbyterians, that the National Church, as existing in its courts and judicatories, has power to censure, suspend from their func- tions, and depose from their clerical character RELIGIOUS PERSECUTION. 209 and clerical charge, such of its members as, either by immoral and wicked conduct, or by preaching and teaching doctrines inconsistent with the public creed, shall render themselves unfit to execute the trust reposed in them. And further, both these national churches maintain, that such courts and judicatories have power over their hearers, and those who live in com- munion with them, to rebuke transgressors of every kind, and to admonish them to repent- ance ; and if such admonitions are neglected, to expel them from the congregation by the sen- tence of excommunication. Thus far most Christian churches agree; and thus far the claims and rights of a national church are highly favourable to the existence of a regular government ; since reason, as well as the general usage of the religious world, sanctions the establishment of the clergy as a body of men separated from the general class of society, that they may set an example of regularity of life by the purity of their morals. Thus set apart from the rest of the community, they are supported at the expense of the state, in order that the reverence due to them may not be lessened by their being compelled, for the sake of subsistence, to mingle in the ordi- nary business of life, and share the cares and solicitudes incidental to those who must labour for their daily bread. How far the civil magistrate can be wisely intrusted with the power of enforcing spiritual censures, or seconding the efforts of the church to obtain general conformity, bv inflicting the 18» 210 RELIGIOUS PERSECUTION. penalties of fines, imprisonment, bodily punish- ment, and death itself, upon those who differ in doctrinal points from the established reli- gion, is a very different question. It is no doubt true, that wild sects have sometimes started up, whose doctrines have involved direct danger to the state. But such offenders ought to be punished, not as offenders against the church, but as transgressors against the laws of the kingdom. While their opinions remain merely speculative, they may deserve expulsion from the national church, with which indeed they could consistently desire no com- munion. But while they do not carry these opinions into execution, by any treasonable act, it does not appear the province of the civil magistrate to punish them for opinions only. And if the zeal of such sectaries should drive them into action, they deserve punish- ment, not for holding unchristian doctrines, but for transgressing the civil laws of the realm. This distinction was little understood in the days we write of, and neither the English nor the Scottish church can be vindicated from the charge of attempting to force men's con- sciences, by criminal persecutions for acts of non-conformity, though not accompanied by any civil trespass. % Experience and increasing knowledge have taught the present generation, that such se- verities have always increased the evil they were intended to cure ; and that mild admoni- tion, patient instruction, and a good example, may gain many a convert to the established RELIGIOUS PERSECUTION 211 churches, whom persecution and violence would have only confirmed in his peculiar opi- nions. You have read the fable of the travel- ler, who wrapped his cloak the faster about him when the storm blew loud, but threw it aside in the serene beams of the sunshine. It applies to the subject I have been speaking of, as much as to the advantages of gentleness and mild persuasion in social life. I return to the distinction between the Inde- pendents and Presbyterians during the civil wars of the reign of Charles I. The latter, as you already know, stood strongly out for a national church and an established clergy, with full power to bind and loose, and maintained by the support of the civil government. This had been fully established in Scotland, and it was the ardent wish of its professors that the English should adopt the same system. Indeed, it was in the hope of attaining this grand object that the consent of the Scottish Convention of Estates was given, to sending the auxiliary army to England ; and they thought the ac- ceptance of the Presbyterian discipline in that country was secured by the terms of the So- lemn League and Covenant. But the Inde- pendents had, from the beginning, entertained the secret resolution of opposing the establish- ment of a national church of any kind in England. The opinions of these sectaries stood thus on matters of church government. Everyone, they said, had a right to read the Scriptures, and draw such conclusions respecting the doctrines which are there inculcated, as his own private 21Q DISTINCTIONS BETWEEN judgment should hold most conformable to them. They went farther, and said, that every man who felt himself called upon to communi- cate to others the conclusions which he had de- rived from reading the Bible, and meditating on its contents, had a right, and a call from Heaven, to preach and teach the peculiar belief which he had thus adopted. It was no matter what was the individual's condition in life, or what had been the course of his education ; he was equally entitled, in their opinion, to act as a minister, as if he had studied for twenty years, and taken orders from a bishop, or from a pres- bytery. If he could prevail on six persons to admit his doctrine, these six persons made a Christian congregation ; and, as far as religious instruction was concerned, he became their spiritual head and teacher. Be his hearers many or few, they were thenceforward his sheep, and he their spiritual shepherd. But to all the rest of the world, except his own congregation, the Independents held, that every preacher remained an ordinary layman, having no claim on the state for revenue or sub- sistence. If he could persuade his congrega- tion to contribute to his support, he was the more fortunate. If not, he lived by his ordinary calling, of a baker, a tailor, or a shoemaker, and consoled himself that he resembled St. Paul, who wrought with his hands for his livelihood. Of the congregations or sects thus formed, there were in England hundreds, perhaps tbou- etinds^ most of them disagreeing from each INDEPENDENTS AND PRESBYTERIANS. 213 Other in doctrine, and only united by the com- mon opinion, that each private Christian had a right to teach or to listen to whatever doctrines he thought fit ; that there ought to exist no church courts of any kind ; that the character of a preacher was only to be recognised by those who chose to be taught ; and that, in any more extensive point of view, there ought not to ex- ist any body of priests or clergymen by pro- fession, any church government, or church ju- dicatories, or any other mode of enforcing re- ligious doctrine, save by teaching it from thfe pulpit, and admonishing the sinner, or, if neces- sary, expeUing him from the congregation This last, indeed, could be no great infliction where there were so many churches ready to receive him, or where, if he pleased, he might set up a church for himself. The Sectaries, as the Independents were termed, entertained, as may be supposed, very wild doctrines. Men of an enthusiastic spirit, and sometimes a crazed imagination, as opinion- ative as they were ignorant, and many of them as ignorant as the lowest vulgar, broached an endless variety of heresies, some of them scan- dalous, some even blasphemous ; others, ex- cept on account of the serious subject they re- ferred to, extremely ludicrous. But the preachers and hearers of these strange doctrines were not confined to the vul- gar and ignorant. Too much learning made gome men mad. Sir Henry Vane, one of the subtlest politicians in England, and Milton one of the greatest poets ever born, caught the 214 CROMWELL. spirit of the times, and became Independents. But above all, Oliver Cromwell, destined to rise to the supreme power in England, was of that form of religion. This remarkable person was of honourable descent, but, inheriting a small fortune, had practised at one time the occupation of a brew- er. After a course of gaiety and profligacy during early youth, he caught a strong taint of the enthusiasm of the times, and distinguished himself by his aversion to Prelacy, and his zea- lous opposition to the arbitrary measures of the King. He became a member of Parliament, but as he spoke indifferently, made no figure in that body. — When, however, the Parliament raised their army, the military talents of Cromwell made him early distinguished. It was remarked that he was uniformly successful in every con- test in which he was personally engaged, and that he was the first officer who could train and bring to the field a body of cavalry capable of meeting the shock of the Cavaliers, notwith- standing their high birth, lofty courage, and chivalrous bravery. His regiment of Ironsides, as they were call- ed, from the cuirasses which the men wore, w ere carefully exercised, and accustomed to strict military discipline, while their courage was exalted by the enthusiasm which their commander contrived to inspire. He preached to them himself, prayed for them and with them, and attended with an air of edification to any who chose to preach or pray in return. INDEPENDENTS. 21& The attention of these military fanatics was so fixed upon the mysteries of the next world, that death w^as no terror to them ; and the fiery va- lour of the Cavaliers was encountered and re- pelled, by men who fought for their own ideas of religion as determinedly as their enemies did for honour and loyalty. The spirit of the In- dependent sectaries spread generally through the army, and the Parliament possessed no troops so excellent as those who followed these doctrines. The great difference betwixt the Presbyterians and Independents consisted, as I have told you, in the desire of the former to establish their form of religion and church government as na- tional, and compel a general acquiescence in their articles of faith. For this, a convention of the most learned and able divines was assem- bled at Westminister, who settled the religious creed of the intended church according to the utmost rigour of the Presbyterian creed. This assumption of exclusive power over the conscience alarmed the Independents, and in the dispute which ensued, the consciousness of their own interest with the army gave them new courage and new pretensions. At first the Independent sectaries had been contented to let the Presbyterians of England, a numerous and wealthy body, take the lead in public measures. But as their own numbers increased, and their leaders became formidable from their interest with the army, they resisted the intention which the Presbyterians showed of establishing their own faith in England as 216 SELF-DENYING ORDINANCE. well as Scotland. Sir Henry Vane persuaded them to temporize a little longer, since to resist Presbytery was to disgust the Scottish auxilia- ries, enamoured as they were of their national system. " We cannot yet dispense with the Scots," he said ; " the sons of Zeruiah are still too many for us." But the progress of the war gradually dimi- nished the strength of the Presbyterian party, and increased that of the Independents. The Earls of Essex and Manchester, generals cho- sen from the former party, had sustained many looses, which were referred to incapacity ; and they were accused of having let slip advantages, from which it was supposed they had no wish to drive the King to extremity. People began to murmur against the various high offices in the army and state being occupied by members of Parliament, chiefly Presbyterians ; and the protracted length of the civil hostilities was imputed to the desire of such persons to hold in their possession the authority which the war gave them. The Parliament felt that their popularity was in danger of being lost, and looked about for means of recovering it. While their minds were thus troubled, Cromwell suggested a very artful proposal. To recover the confidence of the nation, the Members of Parliament, he said, ought to resign all situations of trust or power which they possessed, and confine themselves exclusively to the discharge of their legislative duty. The Parliament fell into the snare. They enacted what was called the Self-denying Ordi SELF-DENYING ORDINANCE. 217 nance ; by which, in order to show their disin- terested patriotism, the members laid down all their offices, civil and military, and rendered themselves incapable of resuming them. This act of self-deprivation proved in the event a death-blow to the power of the Presbyterians ; the places which were thus simply resigned, being instantly filled up by the ablest men in the Independent party. Two members of Parliament, however, were allowed to retain command. The one was Sir Thomas Fairfax, a Presbyterian, whose mili- tary talents had been highly distinguished during the war, but who was much under the influence of Oliver Cromwell. The other was Cromwell himself, who had the title of Lieute- nant-General only, but in fact enjoyed, through his influence over the soldiers, all the advan- tages of supreme command. The success of Cromwell in this grand mea- sure led to remodelling the army after his own plan, in which he took care their numbers should be recruited, their discipline improved, and, above all, their ranks filled up with Inde- pendents. The influence of these changes was soon felt in the progress of the war. The troops of the King sustained various checks, and at length a total defeat in the battle of Naseby, from the effect of which the affairs of Charles could never recover. Loss after loss succeeded ; the strong places which the Royalists possessed were taken one after another ; the King's cause was totally ruined. The successes of Montrose had excited Vol. I. 19 218 SURRENDER OF KING CHARLES a gleam of hope, which disappeared after his defeat at Philiphaugh. Finally, King Charles was shut up in the city of Oxford, which ha'd adhered to his cause with the most devoted loy- alty ; the last army which lie had in the field was destroyed ; and he had no alternative save to remain in Oxford till he should be taken pri- soner, to surrender himself to his enemies, or to escape abroad. In circumstances so desperate, it was difficult to make a choice. A frank surrender to the Parliament, or an escape abroad, would have perhaps been the most advisable conduct. But the Parliament and their own independent army were now on the brink of quarrelling. The establishment of the Presbyterian Church was resolved upon, though only for a time and in a limited form, and both parties were alike dissatisfied ; the zealous Presbyterians, be- cause it gave the Church courts too little pow- er ; the Independents, because it invested them with any control whatever over persons of a different communion. Amidst the disputes of his opponents, the King hoped to find his way back to the throne. For this purpose, and to place himself in a situation, as he hoped, from whence to negotiate with safety, Charles determined to surrender himself to that Scottish army which had been sent into England, under the Earl of Leven, as auxiliaries of the English Parliament. The King concluded that he might expect personal protec- tion, if not assistance, from an army composed of his own countrymen. Besides, the Scottish TO THE SCOTTISH AR.MV. 219 army had lately been on indifferent terms with the English. The Independent troops, who now equalled or even excelled them in discip- line, and were actuated by an enthusiasm which the Scots did not possess, looked with an evil eye on an army composed of foreigners and Pres- byterians. The English in general, as soon as their assistance was no longer necessary, began to regard their Scottish brethren as an incum- brance ; and the Parliament, while they sup- plied the independent forces liberally with money and provisions, neglected the Scots in both these essentials, whose honour and inte- rest were affected in proportion. A perfect acquaintance with the discontent of the Scot- tish army, induced Charles to throw himself upon their protection in his misfortunes. He left Oxford in disguise, on 27th April, having only two attendants. Nine days after his departure, he surprised the old Earl of Leven and the Scottish camp, who were then forming the siege of Newark, by delivering himself into their hands. The Scots received the unfortunate monarch with great outward respect, but guarded his person with vigilance. They immediately broke up the siege, and marched with great speed to the north, carrying the person of the King along with them, and observing the strictest discipline on their re- treat. When their army arrived at Newcastle, a strong town Avhich they themselves had taken, and where they had a garrison, they halted to await the progress of negotiations at this sin- gular crisis. 220 UNSUCCESSFUL NEGOTIATIONS FOR Upon surrendering himself to the Scottish army, King Charles had despatched a message to the Parliament, expressing his having done so, desiring that they would send him such arti- cles of pacification as they should agree upon, and offering to surrender Oxford, Newark, and whatever other garrisons or strong places he might still possess, and order the troops he had on foot to lay down their arms. The places were surrendered accordingly, honourable terms being allowed ; and the army of Mon- trose in the Highlands, and such other forces as the Royalists still maintained throughout England, were disbanded, as I have already told you, by the King's command. The Parliament showed great moderation, and the civil war seemed to be ended. The articles of pacification which they offered were not more rigorous than the desperate condition of the King must have taught him to expect. But questions of religion interfered to prevent the conclusion of the treaty. In proportion as the great majority of the Parliament were attached to the Presbyterian forms, Charles was devoted to the system of Episcopacy. He deemed himself bound by his coronation oath to support the Church of En- gland, and he would not purchase his own resto- ration to the throne by consenting to its being set aside. Here, therefore, the negotiation be- twixt the King and his Parliament was broken off; but another was opened between the En- glish Parliament and the Scottish army, con cerning the disposal of the King's person. A SETTLEMENT OF AFFAIRS. 221 If Charles could have brought his miifid to consent to the acceptance ofthe Solemn League and Covenant, it is probable that he would have gained all Scotland to his side. This, however, would have been granting to the Scots what he had refused to the Parliament ; for the support of Presbytery was the essential object of the Scottish invasion. On the other hand, it could hardly be expected that the Scottish Conven- tion of Estates should resign the very point on which they had begun and continued the war. The Church of Scotland sent forth a solemn warning, that all engagement with the King was unlawful. The question, therefore, was, what should be done with the person of Charles. The generous course would have been, to have suffered the King to leave the Scottish army as freely as he came there. In that case he might have embarked at Tynemouth, and found refuge in foreign countries. And even if the Scots had determined that the exigencies of the times, and the necessity of preserving the peace betwixt England and Scotland, to- gether with their engagements with the Parlia- ment of England, demanded that they should surrender the person of their King to that body, the honour of Scotland was intimately concern- ed in so conducting the transaction, that there should be no room for alleging that any selfish advantage was stipulated by the Scots as a con- sequence of giving him up. I am almost ashamed to write, that this honourable consi- deration had no weight. 19 * 222 CHARLES DELIVERED TO THE ENGLISH. The Scottish army had a long arrear of pay due to them from the Enghsh Parliament, which the latter had refused, or at least delay- ed, to make forthcoming. A treaty for the settlement of these arrears had been set on foot ; and it had been agreed that the Scottish forces should retreat into their own country, upon payment of two hundred thousand pounds, which was one half of the debt finally admit- ted. Now, it is true that these two treaties, concerning the delivery of the King's person to England, and the payment by Parliament of their pecuniary arrears to Scotland, were kept separate, for the sake of decency ; but it is certain, that they not only coincided in point of time, but bore upon and influenced each other. No man of candour will pretend to believe that the Parliament of England would ever have paid this considerable sum, unless to faci- litate their obtaining possession of the King's person ; and this sordid and base transaction, though the work exclusively of a mercenary army, stamped the whole nation of Scotland with infamy. In foreign countries they were upbraided with the shame of having made their unfortunate and confiding Sovereign a hostage, whose liberty or surrender was to depend on their obtaining payment of a paltry sum of ar- rears ; and the English nation reproached them with their greed and treachery, in the popular rhyme, — Traitor Scot Sold hiB King for a groat. CHARLES DELIVERED TO THE ENGLISH. 223 The Scottish army surrendered the person of Charles to the Commissioners for the En- gUsh Parliament, on receiving security for their arrears of pay, and immediately evacuated Newcastle, and marched for their own country. I am sorry to conclude the chapter with this mercenary and dishonourable transaction ; but the limits of the work require me to bring it thus to a close. [ 324 ] CHAP, xa The King taken Prisoner by the EnglishArmy and placed in the Palace of Hampton Court — His escape to the Isle of Wighty and im- prisonment in Carisbrook Castle — Treaty with the Scots, known by the name of The Engagement — The Engagers enter En- gland with an Army, and are defeated — High Court of Justice appointed to try the King — the Trial — Execution of Charles L Our last chapter concluded with the disho- nourable transaction by which the Scottish army- surrendered Charles I. into the hands of the Parliament of England, on receiving security for a sum of arrears due to them by that body. The Commissioners of Parliament, thus pos- sessed of the King's person, conducted him as a state prisoner to Holdenby House, in North- umberland, which had been assigned as his temporary residence ; but from which a power different from theirs was soon about to with- draw him. The Independents, as I have said, highly re- sented as a tyranny the establishment of Pres- bytery, however temporary, or however miti- gated, in the form of a national church ; and were no less displeased, tliat the army, whose ranks were chiefly filled with these military saints, as they called themselves, was, iu the :JkM^ POWER OF THE ENGLISH ARIVIY. 225 event of peace, which seemed close at hand, threatened either to be sent to Ireland, or dis- banded. The discontent among the English soldiery became general ; they saw that the use made of the victories, which their valour had chiefly contributed to gain, would be to reduce and disarm them, and send out of the kingdom such as might be suffered to retain their arms and military character. And besides the loss of pay, profession, and importance, the secta- ries had every reason to apprehend the imposi- tion of the Presbyterian yoke, as they termed the discipline of that church. These mutinous dispositions were secretly encouraged by Cromwell, Ireton, and Fleet- wood, officers of high rank and influence, to| whom the Parliament had intrusted the charge of pacifying them. At length the army assumed the appearance of a separate body in the state, whose affairs were managed by a council of su- perior officers, with assistance from a commit- tee of persons, called Agitators, being two pri- vates chosen from each company. These bold and unscrupulous men determined to get pos- session of the person of the King, and to with- draw him from the power of the Parliament. In pursuance of this resolution, Joice, ori- ginally a tailor, now a cornet, and a furious ad vocate for the cause of the army, on the 4th June, 1647, appeared suddenly at midnight be- fore Holdenby House. The troops employed by the Commissioners to guard the King's per- .son, being infected, it may be supposed, with the general feeling of the army, offered no re- 226 THE KING TAKEN PRISONER BY THE ARMY sistance. Joice, with little ceremony, intruded himself, armed with his pistols, into the King's sleeping apartment, and informed his Majesty that he must please to attend him. " Where is your commission?" said the unfortunate King. " Yonder it is," answered the rude soldier, pointing to his troop of horse, which, by the early dawning, was seen drawn up in the court yard of the palace. — "It is written in legible characters," replied Charles ; and without fur- ther remonstrance, he prepared to attend the escort. The King w^as conducted to Newmarket, and from thence to the palace of Hampton Court ; and though in the hands of a body which had no lawful authority or responsible character, he was at first treated with more respect, and even kindness, than he had experienced either from the Scottish army, or from the English Commissioners. The officers distrusted, per- haps, the security of their own power, for they offered a pacification on easy terms. They asked an equal national representation, freely chosen : stipulated that the two Houses of Par- liament should enjoy the command of the mi- litia for fourteen years ; and even agreed that the order of Bishops should be re-established, but without any temporal power or coercive jurisdiction. So far the terms were more moderate than, from sucli men and in such a moment, the King could have expected. But on one point the council of officers were rigidly determined ; they insisted, that seven of the adherents of AND PLACED IN HAMPTON COTTRT. 227 Charles, chosen from those who had, with wis- dom or with valour, best supported the sinking cause of royalty, should be declared incapable of pardon. Charles was equally resolute in resisting- this point ; his conscience had suffer- ed too deeply upon the occasion of Strafford's execution, to which he had yielded in the be- ginning of these troubles, to permit him ever to be tempted again to abandon a friend. In the meantime the Parliament were pre- paring to exert their authority in opposing and checking the unconstitutional power assumed by the army ; and the city of London, chiefly composed of Presbyterians, showed a general disposition to stand by the Houses of Legisla- ture. But when that formidable army drew near to London, both Parliament and citizens became intimidated ; and the former expelled from their seats the leading Presbyterian mem- bers, and sufl^ered the independents to dictate to the dispirited remainder what measures they judged necessary. Prudence would, at this moment, have strongly recommended to Charles an agree- ment with the army. But the Presbyterians of England had not resigned hopes ; and the whole kingdom of Scotland, incensed at the triumph of the Sectaries, and the contumely oflfered to the Solemn League and Covenant, which had been stigmatized, in the House of Commons, as an Almanack out of date, their Commissioners made, in private, liberal offers to restore the King by force of arras. In listen- ing to these proposals, Charles flattered him- 228 DISPOSITION OF THE DIFFERENT self that he should be able to hold the balance betwixt the Presbyterians and Independents ; but he mistook the spirit of the latter party, from whom this private negotiation did not long remain a secret, and who were highly in- censed by the discovery. The Presbyterians had undertaken the war with professions of profound respect towards the King's person and dignity. They had al- ways protested that they made war against the evil counsellors of the King, but not against his person ; and their ordinances, while they were directed against the Malignants, as they termed the Royalists, ran in the King's own name, as well as in that of the two Houses of Parliament, by whose sole authority they were sent forth. The Independents, on the contra- ry, boldly declared themselves at war with the Man Charles, as the abuser of the regal pow- er, and the oppressor of the saints. Cromwell himself avouched such doctrines in open Par- liament. He said it was childish to talk of there being no war with the King's person, when Charles appeared in armour, and at the head of his troops in open battle ; and that he himself was so far from feeling any scruple on the subject, that he would fire his pistol at the King as readily as at any of his adherents, should he meet him in the fight. After the discovery of the King's treaty with the Scottish Commissioners, Cromwell admit- ting Charles's powers of understanding and reasoning, denounced him as a man of the deepest dissimulation, who had broken faith, PARTIES TOWARDS THE KING. 229 by professing an entire reliance on the wisdom of the Parliament, while, by a separate negoti- ation with the Scottish Commissioners, he was endeavouring to rekindle the flames of civil war between the sister kingdoms. He re- quired, and by the now irresistible interest of the Independents he obtained, a declaration from the House, that the Parliament would re- ceive no further applications from Charles, and make no addresses to him in future. The unfortunate King, ^vhiic in the power of this uncompromising faction, by whom his authority seemed to be suspended, if not abo- lished, ought to have been aware, that if he w^as to succeed in any accommodation with them at all, it could only be by accepting, without delay or hesitation, such terms as they were disposed to allow him. If he could have succeeded in gratifying their principal ofllicers by promises of wealth, rank, and distinction, which were liberally tendered to them, it was probable that their influence might have in- duced their followers to acquiesce in his resto- ration, especially if it afibrded the means of disconcerting the plans of the Presbyterians. But Charles ought, at the same time, to have reflected, that any appearance of procrastina- tion on his part, must give rise to suspicions of his sincerity ; and that the Independents, having once adopted an idea that he was tri- fling with, or deceiving them, had none of that sanctimonious respect for his title, or person, that could prevent his experiencing the utmost rigour. Vol. I. 20 230 CHARLES !b IMP'UieONMENT IN The Independents and their military coun- cil, accordingly, distrusting- the sincerity of Charles, and feeling every day the increase of their power, began to think of establishing it on an entirely ditlerent basis from that of mo- narchy. They withdrew from the King the solemn marks of respect with which he had been hitherto indulged, treated him with ne- glect and incivility, confined his person more closely, and permitted none to have access to him, but such as had their confidence. Alarmed at these ominous severities, Charles now resolved to escape by flight, and left Hampton Court accordingly. Unhappily, ei- ther misled by his attendant or by his own indiscretion, he took refuge in the Isle of Wight, where the governor of Carisbrook Castle was the friend of Cromwell, and a fierce Independent. Here the unfortunate monarch only fell into a captivity more solitary, more severe, and more comfortless, than any which he had yet experienced. He himself j)ointed out to Sir Philip Warwick an old greyheaded do- mestic who brought in wood to the lire, and observed, that the conversation of that menial was the best that he had been suffered to enjoy for months. There is even reason to think his life was aimed at, and that he was encouraged to make an effort to escape from a window in the castle, while a person was placed in readiness to shoot him as he was engaged in the attempt. The council of war renounced all further communication with Charles ; the Parliament, CARISEROOK CASTLE. 231 now under the Independent influence, sent down Commissioners to treat, but with preli- minary conditions harder than any yet ofiered to him. Two resources remained to him — the services of the disbanded loyaUsts, whom his faithful adherents might again summon to arms — but they were dispersed, disarmed, and heart-broken ; or the assistance of the Scots — but they were distant and disunited. Yet Charles resolved to try his fortunes on this perilous cast, rather than treat with the Par- liament, influenced as it was by the army. The presence of two Scottish Commission- ers, who had accompanied those of the Parlia- ment to Carisbrook, enabled Charles to execute a secret treaty with them, by which he agreed to confirm the Solemn League and Covenant, establish Presbytery, at least for a season, and concur in the extirpation of the Sectaries. These articles, if they had been granted while Charles was at Newcastle, would have been sufficient to have prevented the surrender of his person by the Scottish army ; but it was the King's unfortunate lot,- on this, as on all former occasions, to delay his concessions until they came too late. When this treaty (v/hicli was called the En- gagement, because the Commissioners engaged to restore the King by force of arm.s) was presented to the Scottish Parliament, it was approved by the more moderate part of the Presbyterians, wlio were led by the Duke of Hamilton, together with his brother the Earl of Lanark, the Lord Chancellor Loudon, and 232 THE ENGAGEMENT. the Earl of Lauderdale ; this last being destined to make a remarkable figure in the next reign. But the majority of the Presbyterian clergy, headed by the more zealous among their hear- ers, declared that the concessions of the King were totally insufficient to engage Scotland in a new war, as affording no adequate cause for a quarrel with England. This party was headed by the Marquis of Argyle. I may here mention respecting this noble- man, that after Montrose's army was disbanded, he had taken severe vengeance on the MacDo- nalds, and other clans who had assisted in the desolation of Argyleshire. Having the aid of David Lesley, with a body of regular troops, he reduced successively some forts into which Alaster Macdonald (Colkitto) had thrown gar- risons, and uniformly put the prisoners to the sword. The MacDougals were almost exter- minated in one indiscriminate slaughter, and the Lamonts were put to death in another act of massacre. Sir James Turner, an officer who served under Lesley, lays the blame of these inhumanities on a hard-hearted clergy- man called Neaves. David Lesley was dis- gusted at it, and when, after some such sangui- nary execution, he saw his chaplain with his shoes stained with blood, he asked him re- proachfully, " Have you enough of it now, Master .fohn?" These atrocities, by whomsoever committed, must have been perpetrated in revenge of the sufferings of Argyle and his clan ; and to these must be added the death of old Colkitto, who, CRUELTIES OF ARGYLE. 233 taken in one of these Highland forts, was tried by a jury convened by authority of George Campbell, the Sheriff Substitute of Argyle, from whose sentence we are told very few- escaped, and was executed of course. All these grounds of offence having been given to the Royalists, in a corner of the coun- try where revenge was considered as a duty and a virtue, it is not extraordinary that Argyle should have objected most earnestly to the Engagement, which was an enterprise in which the King's interest was to be defended, with more slender precautions against the Malig- nants, than seemed consistent with the safety of those who had been most violent against them. Many of the best officers of the late army declined to serve with the new levies, until the Church should approve the cause of quarrel. The Parliament, however, moved by compassion for their native monarch, and willing to obliterate the disgrace which at- tached to the surrender of the King at New- castle, appointed an army to be levied. The kingdom was thus thrown into the utmost confusion between the various factions of the Engagers and their opponents. The civil ma- gistrates, obeying the commands of the Parlia- ment, ordered the subjects to assume arms under pain of temporal punighrnent ; while the clergy, from the pulpit, denounced tiie ven- geance of Heaven against those who obeyed he summons. The Engagers prevailed so far as to raise a «miultiiarv and ill-disciplined armv of about 20* 234 THE ENGAGERS ENTER ENGLAND, fifteen thousand men, which was commanded by the Duke of Hamilton. This ill-fated no- bleman deserved the praise of being a moderate man during all the previous struggles ; and, though loving his King, had always endea- voured to reconcile his administration with the rights, and even the prejudices, of his country- men. But he had little decision of character, and less military skill. While the Scots were preparing their succours slowly, and with hesi- tation, the English cavaliers, impatient at the danger and captivity of the King, took arms. But their insurrections were so ill connected with each other, that they were crushed suc- cessively, save in two cases, where the insur- gents made themselves masters of Colchester and Pembroke, in which towns they were in- stantly besieged. Hamilton ought to have advanced with all speed to raise the siege of these places ; but instead of this, he loitered away more than forty days in Lancashire, until Cromwell came upon him near Warrington, where head and heart seem alike to have failed him. Without even an attempt at resistance, he abandoned his enterprise, and made a disorderly retreat, leaving his artillery and baggage. Baillie, with the infantry, being deserted by his General, surrendered to the enemy at Uttoxeter; and Hamilton himself, with the cavalry, took the same deplorable course. None escaped save a resolute body of men under the Earl of Ca- lender, who broke through the enemy, and forced their way back to their own country. AND ARE DEFEATED. 235 The news of this disaster flew to Scotland. The refractory clergy took the merit of having prophesied the downfall of the Engagers, and stirred up the more zealous Presbyterians to take possession of the government. Argyle drew to arms in the Highlands, whilst the western peasantry assembling, and headed by their divines, repaired to Edinburgh. This in- surrection was called the Whigamores' Raid, from the word, whig, whig, that is, get on, get on, which is used by the western peasants in driving their horses, — a name destined to become the distinction of a powerful party in British history. The Earl of Lanark was at the head of some troops on the side of the Engagement, but, afraid of provoking the English, in whose hands his brother Hamilton was a prisoner, he made no material opposition. Argyle became once more the head of the government. It was owing to this revolution that Cromwell ad- vanced to the Borders, and, instead of finding any enemies to fight with, was received by the victorious Whigamores as a friend and brother. Their horror at an army of Sectaries had been entirely overpowered by their far more violent repugnance to unite with Cavaliers and Malig- nants. Cromwell, on that occasion, held much intimate correspondence with Argyle ; which made it generally believed that the Marquis acquiesced in the violent measures which were to be adopted by the successful General against the captive King, whose fate was now decided upon. 236 THE king's death resolved on. During these military* transactions, Charles had been engaged in a new treaty with the Par- liament, which was conducted at Newport. It was set on foot in consequence of Cromwell's absence with his army, which restored the Par- liament to some freedom of debate, and the Presbyterian members to a portion of their influence. If any thing could have saved that unfortunate Prince, it might have been by ac- complisliing an agreement with the House of Commons, while Hamilton's army was yet entire, and before the insurrections of the Royalists had been entirely suppressed. But he delayed closing the treaty until the army returned, flushed with victory over the English Cavaliers and Scottish Engagers, and de- nouncing vengeance on the head of the King, whom they accused of being the sole author of the civil war, and liable to punishment as such. This became the language of the whole party. The pulpits rung with the exhortations of the military preachers, demanding that the King should be given over, as a public enemy, to a public trial. It was in vain that Charles had at length, with lingering reluctance, yielded every re- quest which the Parliament could demand of him. It was equally in vain that the Parlia- ment had publicly declared that the concessions made by the King were sufficient to form the basis of a satisfactory peace. The army, stirred up by their ambitious officers and fanatic preachers, were resolved that Charles should be put to an open and ignominious death ; and THE HIGH COURT OF JUSTICE. 237 a sufficient force of soldiery was stationed in and around London to make resistance impossi- ble, either on the part of the Presbyterians or the Royalists. In order to secure a majority in the House of Commons, Colonel Pride, a man who had been a brewer, drew up his regiment at the doors of the House of Parliament, and in the streets adjacent, and secured the persons of upwards of one hundred and fifty members, who, being supposed favourable to reconcilia- tion with the King, were arrested and thrown into prison. This act of violence was called Pride's Purge. At the same time, the House of Lords was shut up. The remainder of the House of Commons, who alone were peiTnitted to sit and vote, were all of the Independent party, and ready to do whatever should be required by the soldiers. This remnant of a Parliament, under the influence of the swords of their own soldiers, proceeded to nominate what was called a High Court of Justice for the trial of King Charles, charged with treason, as they termed it, against the people of England. The Court consisted of one hundred and thirty persons, chosen from the army, the Parliament, and from such of the citizens of London as were affected to the pro- posed change of government. Many of the judges so nominated refused, notwithstanding, to act upon such a commission. Meantime, the great body of the English people beheld these strange preparations with grief and ter- ror. The Scots, broken by the defeat of Hamil- 238 CHARACTER OF THE ■' J rm ton and the success of the Whigamores' Raid) had no means of giving assistance. Those who drove this procedure forward were of different classes, urged by different motives. The higher officers of the army, Cromwell, Ireton, and others, seeing they could not rise by means of a treaty with Charles, had resolved to dethrone and put him to death, in order to establish a military government in their own persons. These men had a distinct aim, and they in some degree attained it. There were others among the Independent party, who thought they had offended the King so far beyond for- giveness, that his deposition and death were necessary for their own safety. But there were also among the Independent members of Parliament men of a nobler character. There were statesmen who had bewildered themselves with meditating upon theoretical schemes, till they had fancied the possibility of erecting a system of republican government on the foundation of the ancient monarchy of England. Such men, imposed on by a splendid dream of unattainable freedom, imagined that the violence put upon the Parliament by the soldiery, and the death of the King, when it should take place, were but necessary steps to the establishment of this visionary fabric, like the pulling down of an old edifice to make room for a new building. After this fimciful class of politicians, came enthusiasts of another and coarser description, influenced by the wild harangues of their ENGLIr^II REVOLUTIONISTS. 239 crack-brained preachers, who saw in Charles not only the head of the enemies with whom they had been contending for four years with various fortune, but also a wicked King of Amalekites, delivered up to them to be hewn in pieces in the name of Heaven. Such were the various motives which urged the actors in this extraordinary scene. The pretext by which they coloured these proceedings was, that the King had levied war against his people, to extend over them an un- lawful authority. If this had been true in point of fact, it was no ground of charge in point of law ; for the constitution of England declares that the King can do no wrong, that it<, cannot be made responsible for any wrong which he does. The vengeance of the laws, Avhen such wrong is committed, is most justly directed against those wicked ministers by whom the culpable measure is contrived, and the agents by w^hom it is executed. The constitution of England wisely rests on the principle, that if the counsellors and instruments of a prince's pleasure are kept under wholesome terror of the laws, there is no risk of the monarch, in his own unassisted person, transgressing the limits of his authority. But in fact the King had not taken arms against the Parliament to gain any neio and ex- traordinary extent of power. It is no doubt true, that the Parliament, when summoned to- gether, had many just grievances to complain of; but these were not, in general, innovations of Charles, but such exertions of po^ver as had 240 THE king's ARRAIGNMEiCT. been customary in the four last reigns, when the crown of England had been freed from the restraint of the Barons, without being suffi- ciently subjected to the control of the House of Commons, representing the people at large. They were, however, very bad precedents ; and, since the King had shown a desire to fol- low them, the Parliament were most justly called upon to resist the repetition of old en- croachments upon their liberty. But before the war broke out, the King had relinquished in favour of the Commons all they had demanded. The ultimate cause of quarrel was, which party should have the command of the militia or public force of the kingdom. This Avas.a constitutional part of the King's prerogative ; for the executive power cannot be sai4 to exist unless united with the power of the sword. Violence on each side heightened the general want of confidence. The Parlia- ment, as has been before stated, garrisoned, and held out the town of Hull ngainst Charles ; and the King infringed the privileges of the Commons, by coming with an armed train to arrest five of their members during the sitting of Parliament. So that the war must be justly imputed to a train of long-protracted quarrels, in which neither party could be termed wholly right, and still less entirely wrong, but which created so much jealousy on both sides as could scarcely terminate otherwise than in civil war. The High Court of Justice, nevertheless, was opened, and the King was brought to the TRIAL OF CHARLES I. 241 bar on 19th January, 1649. The soldiers, who crowded tlie avenues, were taught to cry out for justice upon the royal prisoner. When a by- stander, aftected by the contrast betwixt the King's present and former condition, could not refrain from saying aloud, " God save your Majesty," he was struck and beaten by the guards around him — " A rude chastisement," said the King, " for so slight an offence." Charles behaved throughout the wliole of the trying scene with the utmost dignity. He bore, without complaining, the reproaches of mur- derer and tyrant, which were showered on him by the riotous soldiery ; and when a ruffian spit in his face, the captive monarch wiped it off with his handkerchief, and only said, "Poor creatures ! for half a crown they would do the same to their father." When the deed of accusation, stated to he in the name of the people of England, was read, a voice from one of the galleries exclaimed, "Not the tenth part of them?" Again, as the names of the judges were called over, when that of General Fairfax occurred, the same voice replied, " He has more sense than to be here." Upon the officer who commanded the guard ordering the musketeers to fire into the gallery from which the interruption came, the speaker was discovered to be Lady Fairfax, wife of Sir Thomas, the General of the forces, and a daughter of the noble house Vere, who in this manner declared her resentment at the ex- traordinary scene. The King, when placed at the bar, looked Vol. I. 21 242 EXECUTION OF CHARLES I. around on the awful preparations for trial, on the bench, crowded with avowed enemies, and displaying what was still more painful, the faces of one or two ungrateful friends, without losing his steady composure. When the public accuser began to speak, he touched him with his staff, and sternly admonished him to for- bear. He afterwards displayed both talent and boldness in his own defence. He disowned the authority of the novel and incompetent court before which he was placed ; reminded those who sat as his judges, that he was their lawful King, answerable indeed to God for the use of his power, but declared by the constitu- tion incapable of doing wrong. Even if the authority of the people were sufficient to place him before the bar, he denied that it had been obtained. The act of violence, he justly stated, was the deed of a few daring men, who had violated, by military force, the freedom of the House of Commons, and altogether destroyed the House of Peers. He declared that he spoke not for himself, but for the sake of the laws and liberties of England. Though repeatedly interrupted by Bradshaw, a lawyer, president of the pretended High Court of Justice, Charles pronounced his de- fence in a manly, yet temperate manner. Being then three times called on to answer to the charge, he as often declined the jurisdiction of the Court. Sentence of death was then pro- nounced, to be executed in front of the royal palace, lately his own. On the 30th January, 1649 Charles I. was EXECUTION Oi CHARLES I. 243 brought forth through one of the windows in front of the Banqueting House at Whitehall, upon a large scaffold hung witli black, and closely surrounded with guards. Two exe- cutioners in masks attended, (one wearing a long grey beard,) beside a block and cushion. Juxon, a bishop of the Church of England, assisted the King's devotions. As Charles laid his head on the block, he addressed to the bishop, emphatically, the word, remember, and then gave the ^i^^al for the fatal stroke. The one executioner struck the head from the shoulders at a single blow; the other held it up, and proclaimed it the head of a traitor. The soldiers shouted in triumph, but the mul- titude generally burst out into tears and lament- ations. This tragic spectacle was far from accom- plishing the purpose intended by those who had designed it. On the contrary, the King's serene and religious behaviour at his trial and execution excited the sympathy and sorrow of many who had been his enemies when in power; the injustice and brutality which he bore with so much dignity, overpowered the remembrance of the errors of which he had been guilty ; and the almost universal sense of the iniquity of his sentence, was a principal cause of the subsequent restoration of his family to the throne. [ 244 ] CHAP. XITI. J\Iontrose makes a Descent upon the Highlands, is taken Prisoner j and Executed — Charles II. being declared King^ arrives in Scotland — CromweWs Invasion of Scotland — Battle of Dunbar — Coronation of Charles II. — He takes the Command of the Army, marches into E7igland, is defeated at Worcester, and escapes abroad — War in Scotland under General JMonk — Cromwell makes himself Lord Protector of the Republics of Great Britain and Ireland — Glencairn^s Rising — Exploits of Evan Dhu, of Lochiel, Chi^ of the Camerons. The death of Charles I. was nowhere more deeply resented than in his native country of Scotland ; and their national pride was the more hurt,, that they could not but be conscious that the surrender of his person by the Scottish army at Newcastle, was the event which contributed immediately to place him in the hands of his enemies. The government, since the Whigamores' Raid, had continued in the hands of Argyle and the more rigid Presbyterians ; but even they, no friends to the House of Stewart, were bound by the Covenant which was their rule in all things, to acknowledge the hereditary descent of their ancient Kings, and call to the throne Charles, the eldest son of the deceased mo- Montrose's descent. 245 narch, providing he would consent to unite with his subjects in taking the Solemn League and Covenant, for the support of Presbytery, and the putting down of all other forms of religion. The Scottish Parliament met, and resolved accordingly to proclaim Charles II. their law- ful sovereign ; but, at the same time, not to admit him to the actual power as such, until he should give security for the religion, unity, and peace of the kingdoms. Commissioners were sent to wait upon Charles, who had retreated to the continent, in order to offer him the throne of Scotland on these terms. The young Prince had already around him counsellors of a different character. The cele- brated Marquis of Montrose, and other Scottish nobles, few in number, but animated by their leader's courage and zeal, advised him to reject the proposal of the Presbyterians to recall him to the royal dignity on such conditions, and offered their swords and lives to place him on the throne by force of arms. It appears that Charles II., who never had any deep sense of integrity, was willing to treat with each of these parties at one and the same time, and that he granted a commission to the Marquis to attempt a descent on Scotland, tak- ing the chance of what might be accomplished by his far-famed fortune and dauntless enter- prise, while he kept a negotiation afloat with the Presbyterian commissioners, in case of Montrose's failure. That intrepid but rash enthusiast embarked at Hamburgh with some arms and treasure, 246 MONTROSE TAKEN PRISONER, supplied by the northern courts of Europe. His fame drew around him a few of the emigrant Royalists, chiefly Scottish, and he recruited about six hundred German mercenaries. His first descent was on the Orkney Islands, where he forced to arms a few hundred unwarlike fishermen. He next disembarked on the main- land ; but the natives fled from him, remember- ing the former excesses of his army. Strachan, an ofiicer under Lesley, came upon the Mar- quis by surprise, near a pass called Inverchar- ron, on the confines of Ross-shire. The Ork- ney men made but little resistance ; the Ger- mans retired to a wood, and there surrendered; the few Scottish companions of Montrose fought bravely, but in vain. Many gallant cavaliers were made prisoners. Montrose, when the day was irretrievably lost, threw off his cloak bearing the star, and afterwards changed clothes with an ordinary Highland kern, that he might endeavour to ef- fect his escape. Exhausted with fatigue and hunger, he was at length taken by a Ross-shire chief, Mac-Leod of Assint, who happened to be out with a party of his men in arms. The Marquis discovered himself to this man, think- ing himself secure of favour, since Assint had been once his own follower. But tempted by a reward of four hundred bolls of meal, this wretched laird delivered his old commander to the unfriendly hands of David Lesley. The Covenanters, when he who had so often made them tremble, was at length delivered into their hands, celebrated their victory with AND PLACED IN CONFINEMENT. 347 all the exultation of mean, timid, and sullen spirits, suddenly released from apprehension ot* imminent danger. Montrose was dragged in a sort of triumph from town to town, in the mean garb in which he had disguised himself for flight. To the honour of the town of Dundee, which, you will recollect, had been partly plundered, and partly burnt by his forces, during his eventful progress in 1645, the citi- zens of that town were the first who supplied their fallen foe with clothes befitting his rank, with money, and with necessaries. The Mar- quis himself must have felt this as a severe re- buke for the wasteful mode in which he had carried on his warfare ; and it was a still more piercing reproach to the unworthy victors, who now triumphed over an heroic enemy in the same manner as they would have done over a detected felon. While Montrose was confined in the house of the Laird of Grange, he had almost made his escape through the bold stratagem of the Laird's wife, a descendant of the house of So- merville. This lady's address had drenched the guards with liquor ; and the Marquis, dis- guised in a female dress, with which she had furnished him, had already passed the sleeping sentinels, Avhen he was challeng,ed and stopped by a half-drunken soldier, who had been ram- bling about without any duty or purpose. The alarm being given, he was again secured, and the lady's plot was of no avail. She escaped punishment only by her husband's connexion with the ruling party. 248 ]>fONTROSE's SENTENCE. Before Montrose reached Edinburgh, he had been condemned by the Parliament to tlie death of a traitor. The sentence was pro- nounced, without further trial, upon an act of attainder passed whilst he Avas plundering Ar- gyle in the winter of 1644; and it was studious- ly aggravated by every species of infamy. The Marquis was, according to the special order of Parliament, met at the gates by the magistrates, attended by the common hangman, who was clad for the time in his own livery. He was appointed, as the most infamous mode of execution, to be hanged on a gibbet thirty feet high, his head to be planted on the tol- booth, or prison of Edinburgh, his body to be quartered, and his limbs to be placed over the gates of the principal towns of Scotland. Ac- cording to the sentence, he was conducted to jail on a cart, bound and bareheaded, the horse led by the executioner, wearing his bonnet, and the noble prisoner exposed to the scorn of the people, who were expected to hoot at him and revile him. But the rabble, who came out with the rudest purposes, relented when they saw the dignity of his bearing ; and silence, accom- panied by the sighs and tears of the crowd, at- tended the progress, which his enemies had de- signed should excite other emotions. The only observation he made was, that " the ceremonial of his entrance had been somewhat fatiguing and tedious." He appeared before the Parliament, to hear the terms of his sentence, with the same manly indifference. He gazed around on his asseni- Montrose's sentence. 249 bled enemies with as miicli composure as the most unconcerned spectator ; heard Loudon, the Chancellor, upbraid him, in a long and vio- lent declamation, with the breach of both the first and second Covenant ; Avith his cruel wars at the head of the savage Irish and Highland- men ; and with the murders, treasons, and con- flagrations, which they had occasioned. When the Chancellor had finished, Montrose with difliiculty got permission to reply. He told the Parliament, with his usual boldness, that if he appeared before them uncovered, and ad- dressed them with respect, it was only because the King had acknowledged their assembly, by entering into a treaty with them. He admitted he had taken the first, or National Covenant, and had acted upon it so long as it was confined to its proper purposes, but had dissented from and opposed those who had used it as a covert for assailing the royal authority. " The second, or Solemn League and Covenant," he said, *' he had never taken, and was in no respect bound by it. He had made war by the King's express commission ; and although it was im- possible, in the course of hostilities, absolutely to prevent acts of military violence, he had al- ways disowned and punished such irregulari- ties. He had never," he said, " spilt the blood of a prisoner, even in retaliation of the cold- blooded murder of his officers and friends — nay, he had spared the lives of thousands in the very shock of battle. His last undertaking," he continued, " was carried on at the express command of Charles IL, whom they had pro- 250 EXECUTION OF MONTROSE. claimed their sovereign, and with whom they were treating as such. Therefore, he desired to be used by them as a man and a Christian, to whom many of them had been indebted for life and property, when the fate of war had placed both in his power. He required them, in con- clusion, to proceed with him according to the laws of nature and nations, but especially ac- cording to those of Scotland, as they themselves would expect to be judged when they stood at the bar of Almighty God." The sentence already mentioned was then read to the undaunted prisoner, on which he observed, he v/as more honoured in having his head set on the prison, for the cause in which he died, than he would have been in having his picture in the King's bed-chamber. As to the distribution of his limbs, he said he wished he had flesh enough to send some to each city of Europe, in memory of the cause in which he died. He spent the night in reducing these ideas into poetry. Early on the morning of the next day he was awakened by the drums and trumpets calling out the guards, by order of Parliament, to at- tend on his execution. "Alas!" he said, "I have given these good folks much trouble while alive, and do I continue to be a terror to them on the day I am to die ?" The clergy importuned him, urging repent- ance of his sins, and offering, on his expressing such compunction, to relieve him from the sen- tence of excommunication, under which he la- boured. He calmly replied, that though the EXECUTION OF MONTROSE. 251 excommunication had been rashly pronounced, yet it gave him pain, and he desired to be freed from it, if a relaxation could be obtained, by expressing- penitence for his offences as a man ; but that he had committed none in his duty to his prince and country, and had none to ac- knowledge or repent of. Johnstone of Wariston, an eminent Cove- nanter, intruded himself on the noble prisoner, while he was combing the long curled hair, which he wore as a cavalier. Wariston, a gloomy fanatic, hinted as if it were but an idle employment at so solemn a time. " I will ar- range my head as I please to-day, while it is still my own," answered Montrose ; " to-mor- row it will be yours, and you may deal with it as you list." The Marquis walked on foot from the prison to the Grassmarket, the common place of exe- cution for the basest felons, where a gibbet of extraordinary height, with a scaffold covered with black cloth, were erected. Here he was again pressed by the Presbyterian clergy to own his guilt. Their cruel and illiberal offi- ciousness, could not disturb the serenity of his temper. To exaggerate the infamy of his punishment, or rather to show the mean spite of his ene- mies, a book, containing the printed history of his exploits, was hung around his neck by the hangman. This insult, likewise, he treated with contempt, saying he accounted such a re- cord of his services to his prince as a symbol equally honourable with the badge of the Gar- 252 EXECUTION OF MONTROSE. ter, which the King had bestowed on him. In all other particulars, Montrose bore himself with the same calm dignity, and finally submit- ted to execution with such resolved courage, that many, even of his bitterest enemies, wept on the occasion. He suffered on the 21st May, 1650. Argyle, the mortal foe of Montrose, exulted in private over the death of his enemy, but ab- stained from appearing in Parliament when he was condemned, and from witnessing his exe- cution. He is even said to have shed tears when he heard the scene rehearsed. His son, Lord Lorn, was less scrupulous ; he looked on his feudal enemy's last moments, and even watched the blows of the executioner's axe, while he dissevered the head from the body. His cruelty was requited in the subsequent reign ; and indeed Heaven soon after made manifest the folly, as well as guilt, which de- stroyed this celebrated commander, at a time when approaching war might have rendered his talents invaluable to his country. Other noble Scottish blood was spilt at the same time, both at home and in England. The Marquis of Huntly, who had always acted for the King, though he had injured his affairs by his hesitation to co-operate with Montrose, was beheaded at Edinburgh ; and Urry, who had been sometimes the enemy, sometimes the follower of Montrose, was executed with others of the Marquis's principal followers. The unfortunate Duke of Hamilton, a man of a gentle but indecisive character, was taken, EXECUTION OF OTHER ROYALISTS. 253 as I have told you, in his attempt to invade England and deliver the King, whom he seems to have served with fidelity, though he fell under his suspicion, and even suffered a long imprisonment by the royal order. While he was confined at Windsor, Charles, previous to his trial, was brought there by the soldiers. The dethroned King was permitted a momen- tary interview with the subject, who had lost fortune and liberty in his cause. Hamilton burst into tears, and flung himself at the King*9 feet, exclaiming, " My dear master !" — " I have been a dear master to you indeed," said Charles, kindly raising him. After the execution of the King, Hamilton, with the Earl of Holland, Lord Capel, and others, who had promoted the rising of the royalists on different points, were condemned to be beheaded. A stout old cavalier. Sir John Owen, was one of the number. When the sentence was pronounced, he exclaimed it was a great honour to a poor W^elsh knight to be beheaded with so many nobles, adding, with an oath, " I thought they would have hanged me." This gallant old man's life was spared, when his companions in misfortune were executed. While these bloody scenes were proceeding, the Commissioners of the Scottish Parliament continued to carry on the treaty with King Charles. He had nearly broken it off, when Montrose's execution was reported to him ; but a sense of his own duplicity in maintaining a treaty with the Parliament, while he gave Moii- VoL. I. 23 254 STATE OF PARTIES IN SCOTLAND. trose a commission to invade and make war on them, smothered his complaints on the subject. At length Charles, seeing no other resource, agreed to accept the crown of Scotland on the terms offered, which were those of the most absolute compliance with the will of the Scot- tish Parliament in civil affairs, and with the pleasure of the General Assembly of the Kirk in ecclesiastical concerns. Above all, the young King promised to take upon him the obligations of the Solemn League and Cove- nant, and to further them by every means in his power. On these conditions the treaty was concluded ; Charles sailed from Holland, and arriving on the coast of Scotland, landed near the "mouth of the river Spey, and advanced to Stirling. Scotland was at this time divided into three parties, highly unfriendly to each other. There were first, the rigid Presbyterians, of whom Argyle was the leader. This was the faction which had since the Whigamores' Raid been in possession of the supreme power of govern- ment, and with their leaders the King had made his treaty in Holland. Secondly, the moderate Presbyterians, called the Engagers, who had joined with Hamilton in his incursion into England. These were headed by the Earl of Lanark, who succeeded to the dukedom of Hamilton on the execution of his brother ; by Lauderdale, a man of very considerable ta- lents ; Dunfermline, and others. Thirdly, there were the absolute Loyalists, friends and foliowers of ;>Jontrose ; such as the Marquis of RECEPTION OF CHARLES II. 255 Himtly, Lord Ogilvy, a few other nobles and gentlemen, and perhaps some Highland chiefs, too ignorant and too distant to have any influ- ence in state affairs. As all these three parties acknowledged, with more or less warmth, the sovereignty of King Charles, it might have seemed no very difficult matter to have united them in the same patri- otic purpose of maintaining the national inde- pendence of the kingdom. But successful re- sistance to the English was a task to which the ruling party thought themselves perfectly com- petent ; they entertained the most presumptu- ous confidence in tlieir own strength, and their clergy assured them, that so far from the aid of either Engagers or Malignants being profit- able to them in the common defence, the pre- sence of any such profane assistants would draw doAvn the curse of Heaven on the cause, which, trusted to the hands of true Covenanters only, could not fail to prosper. Argyle, therefore, and his friends, received the young King with all the outward gestures of profound respect. But they took care to give him his will in no one particular. They exclu- ded from attendance on his person all his Eng- lish adherents, suspicious of their attachment to Prelacy and malignant opinions. The minis- ters beset him with exhortations and sermons of immoderate length, introduced on all occa- sions, and exhausting the patience of a young prince, whose strong sense of the ridiculous, and impatience of serious subjects, led him to receive with heartfelt contempt and disgust the 256 PRESBYTERIAN CLERGY. homely eloquence of the long-winded orators. The preachers also gave him offence hy choos- ing frequently for their themes the sins of his father, the idolatry of his mother, who was a Catholic, and his own ill-disguised dispo- sition to malignity. They numbered up the judgments which, they affirmed, these sins had brought on his father's house, and they prayed that they might not be followed by similar punishments upon Charles himself. These ill- timed and ill-judged admonitions were so often repeated, as to impress on the young King's mind a sensation of dislike and disgust, with which he remembered the Presbyterian preach- ers as long as he lived. Sometimes their fanaticism and want of judgment led to ridiculous scenes. It is said, that upon one occasion a devout lady, who lived opposite to the royal lodgings, saw from her window the young King engaged in a game at cards, or some other frivolous amusement, which the rigour of the Covenanters denounced as sinful. The lady communicated this import- ant discovery to her minister, and it reached the ears of the Commission of the Kirk, who named a venerable member of their body to re- buke the monarch personally for this act of backsliding. The clergyman to whom this delicate commission was intrusted, was a shrewd old man, who saw no great wisdom in the proceeding of liis brethren, but executed their commands with courtly dexterity, and summed up his ghostly admonition with a re- quest, that when his Majesty indulged in simi- Cromwell's invasion of Ireland. 257 lar recreations, he would be pleased to take the precaution of shutting the windows. The King laughed, and was glad to escape so well from the apprehended lecture. But events were fast approaching which had no jesting aspect. England, to which you must now turn your attention, had totally changed its outward con- stitution since the death of the king. Crom- well, who, using the victorious army as his tools, w^as already in the real possession of the supreme power, had still more tasks than one to accomplish, before he dared venture to as- sume the external appearance of it. He suf- fered, therefore, the diminished and mutilated House of Commons to exist for a season, du- ring which the philosophical Republicans of the party passed resolutions that monarchy should never be again established in England ; that the power of the Executive Government should be lodged in a Council of State ; and that the House of Lords should be abolished. Meantime, Cromwell led in person a part of his victorious army to Ireland, which had been the scene of more frightful disorders than Eng- land, or even Scotland. These had begun by the Catholic inhabitants rising upon the Pro- testants, and murdering many thousands of them in what was termed the Irish Massacre. This had been followed by a general war be- tween the religions ; but at length the address of the Duke of Ormond, as devoted a loyalist as Montrose, contrived to engage a large por- tion of the Catholics on the side of Charles ; and Ireland became the place of refuge to all 22* 258 Cromwell's INVASION the Cavaliers, or remains of the royal party, who began to assume a formidable appearance in that island. The arrival of Cromwell suddenly changed this gleam of fortune into cloud and storm. Wherever this fated General appeared he was victorious, and in Ireland, in order perhaps to strike terror into a fierce people, for Oliver Cromwell was not blood-thirsty by disposition, he made dreadful execution among the van- quished, particularly at the storming of the town of Drogheda, where his victorious troops spared neither sex nor age. He now returned to England, with even greater terror attached to his name than before. The new Commonwealth of England had no purpose that the son of the King whom they had put to death, should be sufibred to estab- lish himself quietly in the sister kingdom of Scotland, and enjoy the power when opportu- nity offered of again calling to arms his nume- rous adherents in England, and disturbing or perhaps destroying their new-modelled repub- lic. They were resolved to prevent this dan- ger by making war on Scotland, whilst still weakened by her domestic dissensions ; and compelling her to adopt the constitution of a re- public, to become confederated with their own. This proposal was of course haughtily rejected by the Scots, as it implied a renunciation at once of King and Kirk, and a total alteration of the Scottish constitution in civil and ecclesi- astical government. The ruling parties of both nations, therefore, prepared for the contest. OF SCOTLAND. 259 The rigid Presbyterians in Scotland showed now a double anxiety to exclude from their army all, however otherwise well qualified to assist in such a crisis, whom they regarded as suspicious in point of doctrine, whether as ab- solute Malignants, or as approaching nearer to their own doctrines, by professing a moderate and tolerant attachment to Presbytery. Yet even without the assistance of these ex- cluded parties, the Convention of Estates as- sembled a line army, full of men enthusiastic in the cause in which they were about to fight ; and feeling all the impulse which could be given by the rude eloquence of their favourite ministers. Unfortunately the preachers were not disposed to limit themselves to the task of animating the courage of the soldiers ; but were so presumptuous as to interfere with, and control the plans of the General, and move- ments of the army. The army of England, consisting almost en- tirely of Independents, amongst whom any man who chose might exert the office of a cler- gyman, had a resemblance to the Presbyterian troops of Scotland, for both armies professed to appeal to Heaven for the justice of their cause ; and both resounded with psalms, pray- ers, exhortations, and religious exercises, to confirm the faith, and animate the zeal of the soldiers. Both used the same language in their pro- clamations against each other, and it was such as implied a war rather on account of religion than of temporal interests. The Scottish pro It&O Cromwell's invasion clamations declared the army commanded by Cromwell to be an union of the most perverse heretical sectaries, of every different persua- sion, agreeing in nothing, saving their desire to effect the ruin of the unity and discipline of the Christian Church, and the destruction of the Covenant, to which most of their leaders had sworn fidelity. The army of Cromwell replied to them in the same style. They de- clared that they valued the Christian Churches ten thousand times more than their own lives. They protested that they were not only a rod of iron to dash asunder the common enemies, but a hedge (though unworthy) about the di- vine vineyard. As for the Covenant, they protested that, would it not seem to make it an object of idolatry, they would be content, if called upon to encounter the Scots in this quar- rel, to place the Covenant on the point of their pikes, and let God himself judge whether they or their of)ponents had best observed the ob- ligations of that national engagement. Although the contending nations thus nearly resembled each other in their ideas and lan- guage, there was betwixt the Scottish and Eng- lish soldiers one difference, and it proved a material one. In the English army the offi- cers insisted upon being preachers, and though their doctrine was wild enough, their igno- rance of theology had no effect on military events. But with the Scots, the Presbyterian clergy were unhappily seized Mdth the opposite rage of acting as officers and generals, and their skill in their own profession of divinity OF SCOTLAND. 261 could not redeem the errors which they com* mitted in the art of war. Fairfax having declined the command of the English army, his conscience (for he was a Presbyterian) not permitting him to engage in the war, Cromwell accepted with joy the su- preme military authority, and prepared for the invasion of Scotland. The wars between the sister kingdoms seem- ed now about to be rekindled, after the interval of two ihixdt. Cx a century ; and notwithstand- ing the greatly superior power of England, there was no room for absolute confidence in her ultimate success. The Scots, though di- vided into parties, so far as church government was concerned, were unanimous in acknow- ledging the right of King Charles, whereas the English were far from making common cause against his claims. On the contrary, if the stern army of Sectaries, now about to take the field, should sustain any great disaster, the Ca- valiers of England, with great part of the Presbyterians in that country, were alike disposed to put the King once more at the head of the government ; so that the fate not of Scotland alone, but of England also, was committed to the event of the present war. Neither were the armies and generals op- posed to each other unworthy of the struggle. If the army of Cromwell consisted of veteran soldiers, inured to constant victory, that of Scotland was fresh, numerous, and masters of their own strong country, which was the des- tined scene of action. If Cromwell had defeated 262 Cromwell's invasion the most celebrated generals of the Cavaliers, David Lesley, the effective commander-in-chief in Scotland, had been victor over Montrose, more renowned perhaps than any of them. If Cromwell was a general of the most decisive character, celebrated for the battles which he liad won, Lesley was, by early education, a trained soldier, more skilful than his antagonist in taking positions, defending passes, and all the previous arrangements of a campaign. With these advantages on the different sides, the eventual struggle commenced. Early in the summer of 1650, Cromwell in- vaded Scotland at the head of his veteran and well-disciplined troops. But, on marching through Berwickshire and East-Lothian, he found that the country was abandoned by the population, and stripped of every thing which could supply the hostile army. Nothing was to be seen save old spectre-looking women, clothed in white flannel, who told the English officers that all tlie men had taken arms, under command of the Barons. Subsisting chiefly on the provisions .supplied by a fleet, which, sailing along the coast, accompanied his movements, the English Ge- neral approached the capital, where Lesley had settled Iiis head-quarters. The right wing of the Scottish army rested upon the high grounds at the rise of Arthur's Seat, and the left wing was posted at Lcith, while the high bank, for- merly called Lcith Walk, made a part of his lines, which, defend(;d by a numerous artillery, completely protected the metropolis. Crom- OF SCOTLAND. 263 well skirmished with the Scottish advanced posts near to Restalrig, but his cuirassiers were so warmly encountered, that they gained no advantage, and their General was obliged to withdraw to Musselburgh. His next effort was made from the westward. The English army made a circuit to Collin- ton, Redhall, and other places near to the east- ern extremity of the Pentland Hills, from which Cromwell hoped to advance on Edinburgh. But Lesley was immediately on his guard. He left his position betwixt Edinburgh and Leith, and took one which covered the city to the west- ward, and was protected by the Water of Leith, and the several cuts, drains, and mill-leads, at Saughton, Coltbridge, and the houses and vil- lages in that quarter. Here Cromwell again found the S(!ots in order of battle, and again was obliged to withdraw after a distant cannonade. The necessity of returning to the neighbour- hood of his fleet, obliged Cromv/ell to march back to his encampment at Musselburgh. Nor was he permitted to remain there in quiet. At the dead of night, a strong body of cavalry, called the regiment of the Kirk, well armed at all points, broke into the English lines, with loud cries of, " God and the Kirk ! all is ours." It was with some difiiculty that Cromwell ral- lied his soldiers upon this sudden alarm, in which he sustained considerable loss, though the assailants were finally compelled to retreat. The situation of the English army now be- came critical ; — their provisions were like to be exhausted, the communication with the fleet 264 Cromwell's invasion of Scotland. grew daily more precarious, while Lesley, with the same prudence which had hitherto guided his defence, baffled all the schemes of the Eng- lish leader, without exposing his army to the risk of a general action, until Cromwell, fairly outgeneralled by the address of his enemy, was compelled to retire towards England. Lesley, on his part, left his lines without delay, for the purpose of intercepting the re- treat of the English. Moving by a shorter line, he took possession with his army of the skirts of Lammermoor, a ridge of hills terminating on the sea near the town of Dunbar, abounding with difficult passes, all of which he occupied strongly. Here he proposed to await the at- tack of the English, with every chance, nay, almost with the certainty, of gaining a great and decisive victory. Cromwell was reduced to much perplexity. To force his way, ifc was necessary to attack a tremendous pass called Cockburn's path, where, according to Cromwell's own description, one man might do more to defend, than ten to make way. And if he engaged in this desperate en- terprise, he was liable to be attacked by the nu- merous forces of Lesley in flank and rear. He saw all the danger, and entertained thoughts of embarking his foot on board of his ships, and cutting his own way as he best could, at the head of his cavalry. At this moment, the interference of the Pres- byterian preachers, and the influence which they possessed over the Scottish army and General, ruined this fair promise of successw CATTLE OF DUNBAR. 265 In spite of all the prudent remonstrances of Lesley, they insisted that the Scottish army should be led from their strong position, to attack the English upon equal ground. This, in the language of Scripture, they called going doAvn against the Philistines at Gilgal. Cromwell had slept at the Duke of Rox- burghe's house, called Broxmouth, and his army were stationed in the park there, when he received news that the Scots were leaving their fastnesses, and about to hazard battle. He exclaimed, " that God had delivered them into his hands ;" and calling for his horse, placed himself at the head of his troops. Coming to the head of a regiment of Lanca- shire men, he found one of their oihcers, while they Avere in the act of marching to battle, in a lit of sudden enthusiasm holding forth or preaching to his men. Cromwell also listened, and seemed affected by his discourse. At this moment the sun showed his broad orb on the level surface of the sea, which is close to the scene of action. " Let the Lord arise," he said, " and let his enemies be scattered ;" and presently after, looking upon the field where the battle had noAv commenced, he added, " I profess they flee." Cromwell's hopes did not deceive him. The hasty Scottish levies, thus presumptuously op- posed to the veteran soldiers of Cromwell, proved unequal to standing the shock. Two regiments fought bravely, and were almost all cut off; but the greater part of Lesley's army fell into confusion without much resistance. Vol. I. 23 266 Cromwell's invasion Great slaughter ensued, and many prisoners were made, v/hom the cruelty of the English government destined to a fate liitherto un- know^n in Christian warfare. They transport- ed to the English settlements in America those unfortunate captives, subjects of an indepen- dent kingdom, who bore arms by order of their iDwn lawful government, and there sold them for slaves. The decisive defeat at Dunbar opened the whole of the south of Scotland to Cromwell. The Independents found a fev/ friends and bro- ther sectaries among the gentry, who had been hitherto deterred, by the fear of the Presbyte- rians, from making their opinions public. Al- most all the strong places on the south side of the Forth were won by the arms of the English, or yielded by the timidity of their defenders- Edinburgh Castle was surrendered, not without suspicion of gross treachery ; and Tantallon, Hume, Roslin, and Borthwick, with other fort- resses, fell into their hands. Internal dissension added to the calamitous state of Scotland. The Committee of Estates, with the King, and the remainder of Lesley's army, retreated to Stirling, where they still hoped to make a stand, by defending the passes of the Forth. A Parliament, held at Perth, were in this extremity disposed to relax in the extreme rigour of their exclusive doctrines, and to admit into the army, which they labour- ed to reinforce, such of the moderate Presby- terians, or Engagers, and even of the Royalists OF SCOTLAND. 267 and Malignants, as inclined to make a formal confession of their former errors. The Royalists readily enough complied with this requisition ; but as their pretended repent- ance was generally regarded as a mere farce, submitted to that they might obtain leave to bear arms for the King, the stricter Presbyteri- ans regarded this compromise with Malignants as a sinful seeking for help from Egypt. The Presbyterians of the western countries, in parti- cular, carried this oj^inion so far, as to think this period of national distress an auspicious time for disclaiming the King's interest and ti- tle. Refusing to allow that the victory of Dun- bar was owing to the military skill of Cromwell, and the disciplined valour of his troops, they set it down as a chastisement justly inflicted on the Scottish nation for espousing the Royal cause. Under this separate banner there as- sembled an army of about four thousand men, commanded by Kerr and Strachan. They were resolved, at the same time, to oppose the En- glish invasion, and to fight w'ith the King's forces, and thus embroil the kingdom in a threefold war. The leaders of this third party, who were called Remonstrators, made a smart attack on a large body of English troops, sta- tioned in Hamilton, under General Lambert, and were at first successful; but falling into disorder, owing to their very success, they were ultimately defeated. Kerr, one of their leaders, was wounded, and made prisoner; and Stra- chan soon afterwards revolted and joined the English army. 268 Cromwell's invasion Cromwell, in the meanwhile, made the fair- est promises to ail who would listen to him, and laboured, not altogether in vain, to impress the Presbyterian party with a belief, that they had better join with the Independents, although disallowing of church government, and thus obtain peace and a close alliance with England, than adhere to the cause of the King, who, with his father's house, had, he said, been so long the troublers of Israel. And here I may in- terrupt the course of public events, to tell you an anecdote not generally known, but curious as illustrating the character of Cromwell. Shortly after the battle of Dunbar, Cromwell visited Glasgow ; and upon Sunday attended the Presbyterian service in the principal church of that city. The preacher, a rigid Presbyte- rian, was nothing intimidated by the presence of the English General ; but entering freely upon state affairs, which were then a common topic in the pulpit, he preached boldly on the errors and heresies of the independent secta- ries, insisted on the duty of resisting their doc- trines, and even spoke with little respect of the person of Cromwell himself. An officer who sat behind Cromwell, whis- pered something in his ear more than once, and the General as often seemed to impose silence upon him. The curiosity of the congregation was strongly excited. At length the service was ended, and Cromwell was in the act of leaving the church, when he cast his eyes on one Wilson, a mechanic, who had long resided at Glasgow, and called on him by name. The OF SCOTLAND. 269 man no sooner saw the General take notice of him than he ran away. Cromwell directed that he should be followed, and brought before him, but without injury. At the same time he sent a civil message to the clergyman who had preached, desiring to see him at his quarters. These things augmented the curiosity of the town's people ; and when they saw Wilson led as prisoner to the General's apartments, many remained about the door, watching the result. Wilson soon returned, and joyfully showed his acquaintances some money which the English General had given him to drink his health. His business with Cromwell was easily ex- plained. This man had been son of a footman who had attended James VI. to England. By some accident Yfilson had served his appren- ticeship to a shoemaker in the same town where Cromwell's father lived, had often played with Master Oliver while they were both children, and had obliged him by making balls and other playthings for him. When Vt^IIsou saw that his old companion recognised him, he ran away, because, recollecting his father had been a ser- vant of the royal family, he thought the Gene- ral, who was known to have brought the late King to the block, might nourish ill-will against all who were connected with him. But Crom- well had received him kindly, spoken of their childish acquaintance, and gave him some mo- ney. The familiarity with which he seemed to treat him, encouraged Wilson to ask his former friend what it was that passed betwixt the offi- 23^ 270 CORONATION OF CHARLES II. cer and him, when the preacher was thundering from the pulpit against the sectaries and their General. " He called the minister an insolent rascal," said Cromwell, not unwilling, perhaps, that his forbearance should be made public, " and asked my leave to pull him out of the pulpit by the ears ; and I commanded him to sit still, telling him the minister was one fool, and he another." This anecdote serves to show Cromwell's recollection of persons and faces. He next gave audience to the preacher, and used arguments with him which did not reach the public ; but were so convincing, that he pronounced a second discourse in the evening, in a tone much mitigated towards Independency and its professors. While the south of Scotland was overawed, and the Western Remonstrators were dispersed by Cromwell, the Scottish Parliament, though retired beyond the Forth, still maintained a show of decided opposition. They resolved upon the coronation of Charles, a ceremony hitherto deferred, but which they determined now to perform, as a solemn pledge of their resolution to support the constitution and reli- gion of Scotland to the last. But the melancholy solemnity had been nearly prevented by the absence of the princi- pal personage. Charles, disgusted with the in- vectives of the Presbyterian clergy, and perhaps remembering the fate of his father at Newcas- tle, formed a hasty purpose of flying from the Presbyterian camp. He had not been suffi- rientiy aware of the weakness of the Royalists, MANffiUVRING OF THE ARMIES. 271 who recommended this wild step, and he actu- ally went off to the hills. But he found only a few Highlanders at Clova, without the appear- ance of an army, which he had promised him- self, and was easily induced to return to the camp with a party who had been despatched in pursuit of him. This excursion, which was called the Start, did not greatly tend to increase confidence be- twixt the young King and his Presbyterian counsellors. The ceremony of the coronation was performed with such solemnities as the time admitted, but mingled with circumstances which must have been highly disgusting to Charles. The confirmation of the Covenant was introduced as an essential part of the so- lemnity ; and the coronation was preceded by a national fast and humiliation, expressly held on account of the sins of the Royal Family. A suspected hand, that of the Marquis of Argyle, placed an insecure crown on the head of the son, whose father he had been one of the prin- cipal instruments in dethroning. These were bad omens. But, on the other hand, the King enjoyed more liberty than be- fore ; most of the Engagers had resumed their seats in Parliament ; and many Royalist officers were received into tlie army. Determined at this time not to be tempted to a disadvantageous battle, the King, who assu- med the command of the army in person, took up a line in front of Stirling, having in his front the river of Carron. Cromwell approach- ed, but could neither with prudence attack the 272 MANCEUVRINO OF THE ARMIES. Scots in their lines, nor find means of inducing them to hazard a battle, unless upon great ad- vantage. After the armies had confronted each other for more than a month, Cromwell des- patched Colonel Overton into Fife, to turn the left flank of the Scottish army, and intercept their supplies. He was encountered near the town of Inverkeithing by the Scots, command- ed by Holborn and Brown. The first of these officers behaved basely, and perhaps treache- rously. Brown fought well and bravely, but finally sustaining a total defeat, was made pri- soner, and afterwards died of grief. The situation of the main Scottish army, under Charles in person, became hazardous af- ter this defeat, for their position w^s rendered precarious, by the footing which t e English obtained in the counties of Fife an.. Kinross, which enabled them to intercept the King's supplies and communications from the north. In this distressed situation Charles adopted a bold and decisive measure. He resolved to transfer the war from Scotland to England, and, suddenly raising his camp, he moved to the south-westward by rapid marches, hoping to rouse his friends in England to arms, before Cromwell could overtake him. But the Cava- liers of England were now broken and dis- pirited, and were, besides, altogether unpre- pared for this hasty invasion, which seemed rather the effect of despair than the result of dcli1)erate and settled resolution. The Presby- terians, though rather inclined to the Royal cause, were still less disposed to hazard a June- WAR IN SCOTLAND. tian with him, until terms of mutual accommo- dation could be settled. They were divided and uncertain, while the republicans were re- solved and active. The English militia assembled under Lam- bert to oppose Charles in front, and Cromwell followed close in his rear, to take every advan- tage that could offer. The Scots reached with- out much opposition the City of Worcester, where, 3d September, 1651, the militia, com- manded by Lambert, and the regular forces un- der Cromwell, attacked the Royalists with dou ble the number of their forces. Clarendon and other English authors represent the Scottish army as making little resistance. Cromwell, on the contrary, talks of the battle of Worces- ter, in his peculiar phraseology, as "a stiff busi- ness — a very glorious mercy — as stiff a contest as he had ever beheld." But, well or ill dispu- ted, the day was totally lost. Three thousand men were slain in the field, ten thousand were taken, and such of them as survived their wounds, and the horrors of overcrowded jails, were shipped off as slaves for the plantations. Charles escaped from the field, and concealed himself in obscure retreats, under various dis- guises. At one time he was obliged to hide himself in the boughs of a spreading oak tree ; hence called the Royal Oak. At another time he rode before a lady, Mrs. Lane, in the quality of a groom ; and in this disguise passed through a part of the Parliament forces. After infinite fatigue, many romantic adventures, and the most imminent risk of discoverv, he at 274 WAR IN SCOTLAND. length escaped by sea, and for eight years con- tinued to wander from one foreign court to another, a poor, neglected, and insulted adven- turer, claimant of thrones which he seemed destined never to possess. The defeat at Worcester, was a death-blow to the resistance of the King's party in Scotland. The Parliament, driven from Stirling to the Highlands, endeavoured in vain to assemble new forces. The English troops, after Crom- well's departure, were placed under the com- mand of General Monk, who now began to make a remarkable figure in those times. He was a gentleman of good birth, had been in arms for the King's service, but being made prisoner, had finally embraced the party of the Parliament, and fought for them in Ireland. He was accounted a brave and skilful comman- der, totally free from the spirit of fanaticism so general in the army of Cromwell, and a man of deep sagacity, and a cold reserved temper. Under Monk's conduct, seconded by that of Overton, Alured, and other parliamentary offi- cers, the cities, castles, and fortresses of Scot- land were reduced one after another. The par- tial resistance of the wealthy seaport of Durtdee, in particular, was punished with the extremi- ties of fire and sword, so that other towns be- came terrified, and surrendered without oppo- sition. The castle of Dunottar, in Kincardineshire, the hereditary fortress of the Earls Marischal, made an honourable defence under .Jolm Ogil- vy of Barras. It is situated upon a rock, al- PRESERVATION OF THE SCOTTISH REGALIA. 275 most separated from the land by a deep ravine on the one side, and overhanging the ocean on the other. In this strong fortress the Honours of Scotland, as they were called, had been de- posited after the battle of Dunbar. These were the crown, sceptre, and sword of state, the symbols of Scottish sovereignty, which were regarded by the nation with peculiar venera- tion. The terror was great lest pledges, with which the national honour was so intimately connected, should fall into the hands of foreign schismatics and republicans. On the other hand, the English, ardently desirous to possess themselves of these trophies, (the rather that they had formed a disproportioned idea of their intrinsic value,) besieged the castle closely, and blockaded it by sea and land. As their provisions began to fail, the Gover- nor foresaw that farther defence must speedily become impossible ; and, with the assistance of Mr. Granger, minister of KinnefF, he formed a stratagem for securing the ancient and vene- rable regalia from the dishonour which threat- ened them. The first preparation was to spread a report, that these national treasures had been carried abroad by Sir John Keith, a younger son of the Earl Marischal, ancestor of the family of Kintore. Mrs. Granger, the ministers wife, was the principal agent in the subsequent part of the scheme. Having obtained of the English gene- ral the permission to bring out of the castle some hards (or bundles) oflint, which she said was her property, she had the courage and ad- 276 PRESERVATION OF THE fSCOTTISH REGALIA. dress to conceal the regalia witliin the hards of lint, and carried them boldly through the English camp, at the risk of much ill usage, had she been discovered in an attempt to de- prive the greedy soldiery of their prey. She played her part so boldly, that she imposed on the general himself, who courteously saluted her, and helped her to mount on horseback as she left the encampment, little guessing with what a valuable part of his expected booty she was loaded at the moment. Arriving with her precious charge at KinnefF, the minister buried the relics of royalty under the pulpit of his church, and visited them from time to time, in order to wrap them in fresh packages, and pre- serve them from injury. Suspicion attached to the Governor of Du' nottar ; and when the castle was finally surren- dered, for want of provisions, he was rigorous- ly dealt with, imprisoned, and even tortured, to make him discover where the regalia were concealed. His lady, who had been active in the stratagem, was subjected to similar severi- ties, as vvcrc also the minister of Kinneff and his courageous spouse. All, hoAvever, per- sisted in keeping the secret. Rewards were distribulcd, after the Restoration, to those who had been concerned in saving the Honours, but they do not appear to have been very accu- rately accommodated to the merits of the par- ties. " Sir John Keith, whose name had only been used in the transaction as a blind, was created Earl of Kintore, and Ogilvy was made a baronet : but the courageous minister, with RESISTANCE TO TIIK ENGLISH. 2T7 his heroic wife, were only rewarded with a pen- sion in money. The towns and castles of Scotland being thus reduced, the national resistance of the natiA'es was confined to a petty warfare, which small bands carried on, who lurked among the moun- tains and morasses, and took every advantage which these aflforded to annoy the English troops, and cut ofi' small parties, or straggling soldiers. These were called Moss-troopers, from a word formerly appropriated to the free- booters of the Border. But the English, who observed a most rigid discipline, Avere not much in danger of suffer- ing from such desultory efforts ; and as they seldom spared the prisoners taken in the skir- mishes, the Scots found themselves obliged to submit, for the first time, to an invader more fortunate than all the preceding sovereigns of England. Their resistance ceased, but their hatred watched for a safer opportunity of vengeance. The Highlanders, however, being strong in the character of the country and its inhabitants, continued refractory to the English authority, and if the soldiery ventured to go through the country alone, or in small parties, they were sure to be surprised and slain, without its being possible to discover the actors. The English officers endeavoured to obtain from the neigh- bouring chiefs, who pretended complete igno- rance of these transactions, such redress as the case admitted of, but iheir endeavours were in general ingeniously eluded. Vol. I. 24" 278 THE PROTECTORATE. For example, an English garrison had lost cattle, horses, and even men, by the incm-sion of a Highland clan who had their residence in the neighbouring mountains, so that the in- censed governor demanded peremptorily, that the actors of these depredations should be de- livered up to him to suffer punishment. The Chief was in no condition to resist, but was not the less unwilling to deliver up the men actu- ally concerned in the creagh, who were proba- bly the boldest, or, as it was then termed, the prettiest, men of his name. To get easily out of the dilemma, he is said to have picked up two or three old creatures, past all exertion, whom he sent down to the English command- ant, as if they had been the caterans or plun- derers whom he wanted. The English officer caused them instantly to be hanged in terrO' rem, which was done accordingly, no protesta- tions which they might have made of their inno- cence being understood or attended to. It is to be hoped that other refractory chiefs found more justifiable means of preserving their authority. In the mean time, Oliver Cromwell accom- plished an extraordinary revolution in Eng- land, which I can here but barely touch upon. He and his Council of Officers, who had so often offered violence to the Parliament, by ex- cluding from the sittings such members as were obnoxious to them, now resolved alto- gether to destroy the very remnant of its ex-' istence. For tliis purpose, Cromwell came to tlie House while it was sitting, told them, in a violent manner, that they were no longer a Par- THE PROTECTORATE. 279 liament, and upbraiding several individuals with injurious names, he called in a body of soldiers, and commanded one of them to "take away that bauble," meaning the silver mace, which is an emblem of the authority of the House. Then turning the members forcibly out of the hall, he locked the doors, and thus dissolved that memorable body, which had made war against the Piling, defeated, de- throned, and beheaded him, yet sunk at once under the autlxorily of one of their own mem- bers, and an officer of their own naming, who had, in the beginning of these struggles, been regarded as a man of very mean consideration. Oliver Cromwell now seized the supreme power into his hands, with the title of Protector of the Republics of Great Britain and Ireland, under which he governed these islands till his death, with' authority more ample than was ever possessed by any of their lawful monarchs. The confusion which the usurpation of Cromwell was expected to have occasioned in England, determined the Royalists to attempt a general rising, in which it was expected that great part of the Highland chieftains would join. The successes of Montrose were remembered, although it seems to have been forgotten that it was more his own genius, than his means, that enabled him to attain them. The Earl of Glencairn v/as placed by the King's commission at the head of the insurrec- tion ; he Vv'as joined by the Earl of Athole, by tlic son of the Iieroic 3iontro3c, bv Lord Lorn, 280 glencairn's rising. the son of the Marquis of Argyle, and other nobles. A romantic young English cavalier, named Wogan, joined this insurgent army at the head of a body of eighty horse, whom he brought by a toilsome and dangerous march through England and the Low Countries of Scotland. This gallant troop was frequently engaged with the Republican forces, and parti- cularly with a horse regiment, called " the Brazen Wall," from their never having been broken. Wogan defeated, however, a party of these invincibles, but received several wounds, which, though not of themselves mortal, be- came so for want of good surgeons ; and thus, in an obscure skirmish, ended the singular ca- reer of an enthusiastic Royalist. The army under Glencairn increased to five thousand men, numbers much greater than Montrose usually commanded. Their com- mander, however, though a brave and accom- plished nobleman, seems to have been deficient in military skill, or, at any rate, in the art of securing the good-will and obedience of the various chiefs and nobles who acted under him. It was in vain that Charles, to reconcile their feuds, sent over, as their commander-in-chief. General Middleton, who, after having fought against Montrose in the cause of the Covenant, had at length become an entire Royalist, and was trusted as such. But his military talents were not adequate to surmount the objections which were made to his obscure origin, and the ditfi- culties annexed to his situation. General Middleton had but an indifferent glencairn's rising. 281 welcome to the Highland army, by the follow- ing scene which took place at an entertainment given by him on taking the command. Glen- cairn had spoken something in praise of the men he had assembled for the King's service, especially the Highlanders. In reply, up start- ed Sir George Munro, who, having been trained in the wars of Germany, despised all irregular troops, and flatly swore that the men of whom the Earl thus boasted, were a pack of thieves and robbers, whose place he hoped to supply with very different soldiers. Glengary, a High- land chief, who was present, arose to resent this insolent language ; but Glencairn, prevent- ing him, replied to Munro, " You are a base liar ! — these men are neither thieves nor rob- bers, but gallant gentlemen, and brave sol- diers." In spite of Middleton's attempts to preserve peace, this altercation led to a duel. They fought on horseback, first with pistols, and then with broadswords. Sir George Munro, having received a wound on the bridle-hand, called to the Earl that he was unable to com- mand his horse, and therefore desired to conti- nue the contest on foot. " You base churl," answered Glencairn, ^* I will match you on foot or on horseback." Both dismounted, and en- countered fiercely on foot, with their broad- swords, when Munro received a wound across his forehead, from which the blood flowed so fast into his eyes, that he could not see to con- tinue the combat. Glencairn was about to thrust his enemy through the bodv, when the 24* 283 EXPLOITS OF EVAN DHU, Earl's servant struck up the point of his mas- ter's sword, saying, " You have enough of him, my lord — you have gained the day." Glen- cairn, still in great anger, struck the intrusive peace-maker over the shoulders, but returned to his quarters, where he was shortly after laid under arrest, by order of the General. Ere this quarrel was composed, one Captain Livingstone, a friend of Munro, debated the justice of the question so keenly with a gentle- man, named Lindsay, that they must needs light a duel also, in which Lindsay killed Li- vingstone on the spot. General Middleton, in spite of Glencairn's intercessions, ordered Lindsay to be executed by martial law, on which Glencairn left the army with his own immediate followers, and soon after returning to the Lowlands, made peace with the English. His example was followed by most of the Low- land nobles, who grew impatient of long marches, Highland quarters, and obscure skir- mishes, which were followed by no important result., Middleton still endeavoured to keep the war alive, although Cromwell had sent additional forces into the Highlands. At length he sus- tained a defeat at Loch-Gary, 26th July, 1654, after which his army dispersed, and he himself retired abroad. The English forces then marched through the Highlands, and compelled the principal clans to submit to the authority of the Protector. And here I may give you an account of one individual chieftain, of great celebrity at that time, since you will learn bet- CHIEF OF THE CAMERONS. HS'S ter the character of that primitive race of men from personal anecdotes, than from details of obscm-e and petty contests, fought at places with unpronounceable names. Evan Cameron of Lochiel, chief of the nu- merous and powerful clan of Cameron, was born in 1629. He was called MacConnuill Dhu, (the son of Black Donald,) from the pa- tronymic that marked his descent, and Evan Dhu, or Black Evan, a personal epithet derived from his own complexion. Young Lochiel was bred up under the directions of the Marquis of Argyle, and was in attendance on that noble- man, who regarded him as a hostage for the peaceable behaviour of his clan. It is said^ that in the civil war the young chief was con- verted to the side of the King by the exhorta- tions of Sir Robert Spottiswood, then in prison at St. Andrews, and shortly afterwards exe- cuted, as we have elsewhere noticed, for his adherence to Montrose. Evan Dhu, having embraced these principles, was one of the first to join in the insurrection of 1652, of which I have just given a short account. During the best part of two years he was always with his clan, in the very front of battle, and behaved gallantly in the various skirmishes which took place. He was com- pelled, however, on one occasion, to withdraw from the main body, from learning that the English were approaching Lochaber, with the purpose of laying waste the country of Lochiel. He hastened thither to protect his own pos- sessions, and those of his clan. 284 EXPLOITS OF EVAN DHU, On returning to his estates, Locliiel had the mortification to find that the English had es- tablished a garrison at Inverlochy, with the purpose of reducing to submission the Royalist clans in the neighbourhood, particularly his own, and the MacDonalds of Glengary and Keppoch. He resolved to keep a strict watch on their proceedings, and, dismissing the rest of his followers, whom he had not means of maintaining without attracting attention to his motions, he lay in the woods with about fifty chosen men, within a few miles of Inverlochy. It was the constant policy of Cromwell and his officers, both in Ireland and Scotland, to cut down and destroy the forests in which the insurgent natives found places of defence and concealment. In conformity with this general rule, the commandant of Inverlochy embarked three hundred men in two light-armed vessels, with directions to disembark at a place called Achdalew, for the purpose of destroying Lo- chiel's cattle and felling his woods. Lochiel, who watched their motions closely, saw the English soldiers come ashore, one half having hatchets and other tools as a working party, the otlijer half under arms, to protect their operations. Though the difference of numbers was so great, the chieftain vowed that he would make the red soldier (so the English were called from their uniform) pay dear for every bullock or tree which he should destroy on the black soldier's property, (alluding to the dark colour of the tartan, and perhaps to his own complexion.) He then demanded of CHIEF OF THE CAMERON'S. 285 some of his followers, who had served under Montrose, whether they had ever seen the Great Marquis encounter with such unequal numbers. They answered, they could recollect no instance of such temerity. " We will fight, nevertheless," said Evan Dhu, " and if each of us kill a man, which is no mighty matter, I will answer for the event. That his family might not be. destroyed in so doubtful an enterprise, he ordered his brother Allan to be bound to a tree, meaning to prevent his interference in the conflict. But Allan prevailed on a little boy, who was left to attend him, to unloose the cords, and was soon as deep in the fight as Evan himself. The Camerons, concealed by the trees, ad- vanced so close on the enemy as to pour on them an unexpected and destructive shower of shot and arrows, which slew thirty men ; and ere they could recover themselves from their surprise, the Highlanders were in the midst of them, laying about them with incredible fury with their ponderous swords and axes. After a gallant resistance, the mass of the English began to retire towards their vessels, when Evan Dhu commanded a piper and a small party to go betwixt the enemy and their barks, and there sound his pibroch and war-cry, till their clamour made it seem there was another body of Highlanders in ambush to cut off their retreat. The English, driven to fury and despair b^^ this new alarm, turned back, like brave men, upon the first assailants, and, if the working party had possessed military weapons, 286 EXPLOITS OF EVAN DHU, Lochiel might have had little reason to con- gratulate himself on the result of this audacious stratagem. He himself had a personal rencontre, strongly- characteristic of the ferocity of the times. The chief was singled out by an English officer of great personal strength, and, as they were sepa- rated from the general strife, they fought in single combat for some time. Lochiel was dexterous enough to disarm the Englishman ; but his gigantic adversary suddenly closed on him, and in the struggle which ensued both fell to the ground, the officer uppermost. He was in the act of grasping at his sword, which lay near the place where they lay in deadly struggle, and was naturally extending his neck in the same direction, when the Highland chief, making a desperate effijrt, grasped his enemy by the collar, and snatching with his teeth at the bare and out-stretched throat, he seized it as a wild-cat might have done, and kept his hold so fast as to tear out the windpipe. The officer died in this singular manner. Lochiel was eo far from disowning, or being ashamed of this extraordinary mode of defence, that he was afterwards heard to say, it was the sweetest morsel he had ever tasted. When Lochiel, thus extricated from the most imminent danger, was able to rejoin his men, he found they had not only pursued the English to the beach, but even into the sea, cutting and stabbing wliomsocver they could overtake. He himself advanced till he was chin-deep, and observing a man on board one CHIEF OF THE CAMERONS. 287 of the armed vessels take aim at him with a musket, he dived his head under the water, escaping so narrowly that the bullet grazed his head. Another marksman was foiled by the affection of the chief's foster-brother, who threw himself betwixt the Englishman and the object of his aim, and was killed by the ball de- signed for his lord. Having cut off a second party, who ventured to sally from the fort, and thus, as he thought, sufficiently chastised the garrison of Inver- lochy, Lochiel again joined Middleton, but was soon recalled to Lochaber by new acts of de- vastation. Leaving most of his men with the Royalist General, Evan Dhu returned with such speed and secrecy,that he again surprised a strong party when in the act of felling his woods, and assaulting them suddenly, killed on the spot a hundred men, and all the officers, driving the rest up to the very walls of the garrison. IVIiddleton's army being disbanded, it was long fere Lochiel could bring himself to accept of peace from the hands of the English. He continued to harass them by attacks on de- tached parties who straggled from the fort, — on the officers who went out into the woods in hunting-parties, — on the engineer officers, who were sent to survey the Highlands, of whom he made a large party prisoners, and confined them in a desolate island, on a small lake, called Loch Ortuigg. By such exploits he rendered himself so troublesome, that the English v/ere desirous to have peace with him on any moderate terms. 288 EXPLOITS OF EVAN DHU, Their overtures were at first rejbcted, Evan Dhu returning for answer, that he would not abjure the King's authority, even though the al- ternative was to be his living in the condition of an exile and outlaw. But when it was hint- ed to him that this would not be required, but that he ^vas only desired to live in peace under the existing government, he made his submis- sion to the existing powers with much solemnity. Lochiel came down at the head of his whole clan in arms, to the garrison of Inverlochy. The English forces being drawn up in a line opposite to them, the Camerons laid down their arms in the name of King Charles, and took them up again in that of the States, without any mention of Cromwell. In conse- quence of this honourable treaty, the last Scotsman who maintained the cause of Charles Stewart submitted to the authority of the re- public. It is related of this remarkable chieftain, that he slew with his own hand the last wolf that was ever seen in the Highlands of Scot- land. Another anecdote is recorded of him by tradition. Being benighted, on some party for the battle or the chase, Evan Dhu laid him- self down with his followers to sleep in the snow. As he composed himself to rest, he ob- served that one of his sons, or nephews, had rolled together a great snow-ball, on which he deposited his head. Indignant at what he con- sidered as a mark of elleminacy, he started up and kicked the snow-ball from under the sleep- er's head, exclaiming, — " Are you become so CHIEr OF THE CAMERON'S. 299 luxurious that you cannot sleep without a pillow ?" After the accession of James II., Lochiel came to court to obtain pardon for one of his clan, who fired by mistake on a body of Athole men, and killed several. He was received with the most honourable distinction, and his request granted. The King desiring to make him a knight, asked of the chieftain for his own sword, in order to render the ceremony still more peculiar. Lochiel had ridden up from Scotland, being then the only mode of travelling, and a constant rain had so rusted his trusty broadsword, that at the moment no man could have unsheathed it. Lochiel, af- fronted at the idea which the courtiers might conceive from his not being able to draw his own sword, burst into tears. " Do not regard it, my faithful friend," said King James, with ready courtesy — " your sword would have left the scabbard of itself, had the Royal cause required it." "With that he bestowed the intended honour with his own sword, which he presented to the new knight as soon as the ceremony was per- formed. Sir Evan Dhu supported, for the last time, the cause of the Stewart family in the battle of Killiecrankie. After that civil strife was end- ed, he grew old in peace, and survived until 1719, aged about ninety, and so much deprived of his strength and faculties, that this once formidable warrior was fed like an infant, and like an infant rocked in a cradle. Vol. I 26 [ 290 ] CHAP. XIV. Administration of Public Justice in Scotland, under Cromwell — Heavy Taxes imposed by him — Church affairs — Resolutionists and Remonstrators — Tria Is for Witchcraft. We will now take a general glance of Scot- land, reduced as the country was to temporary submission under Cromwell, whose power there and elsewhere was founded upon military usurpation only. He built strong citadels at Leith, Air, Inverness, and Glasgow. Eighteen garrisons were maintained through the king- dom at large, and a standing army of ten thou- sand men kept the natives in subjection. — Monk, so often mentioned, commanded this army, and was, besides, member of a Council of State, to whom the executive government was committed. Lord Broghill was President of this body, and out of nine members, two only, Swinton and Lockhart, were natives of Scotland. To regulate the administration of public jus- tice, four English, and three Scottish judges, were appointed to hear causes, and to make circuits for that purpose. The English judges, it may be supposed, were indifferent lawyers ; but they distributed justice with an impartiali- ty, to which the Scottish nation had been en- tirely a stranger, and which ceased to be expe- rienced when the native judges were again re- •tored after the Restoration. The peculiar ADMINISTRATION OF JU3TICB. 291 rectitude of the men employed by Cromwell being pointed out to a learned judge, in the beginning of the next century, his lordship composedly answered, " Devil thank them for their impartiality ! a pack of kinless loons — for my part, I can never see a cousin or friend in the wrong." This shameful partiality in the Scottish courts of justice revived, as just noticed, with the Restoration, when the judges were to be gained, not only by the solicitation of private friends, and by the influence of kinsfolks, but by the interference of persons in power, and the application of downright bribery. In point of taxation, Oliver Cromwell's Scottish government was intolerably oppres- sive, since he appears to have screwed out of that miserable country an assessment of 10,O0OZ. per month, which, even when gradually dimin- ished to 72,000 pounds yearly, was paid with the utmost difficulty. Some alleviation was in- deed introduced by the circulation of the mo- ney with which England paid her soldiers and civil establishment, which Avas at one time cal- culated at half a million yearly, and was never beneath the moiety of that sum. With regard to the church, Cromwell pru- dently foresaw, that the consequence of the preachers would gradually diminish if they were permitted to abuse each other, but pre- vented from stirring up their congregations to arras. They continued to be rent asunder by the recent discord which had followed upon the King's death. The majority were Reso- 293 CHURCH AFFAIRS. lutionists, who owned the King's title, and would not be prohibited from praying for him at any risk. The Remonstrants, who had never been able to see any sufficient reason for embracing the cause, or acknowledging the title, of Charles the Second, yielded obedience to the English government, and disowned all notice of the King in their public devotions. The Independents treated both with contempt- uous indifference, and only imposed on them the necessity of observing toleration towards each other. But though divided into different classes, Presbyterianism continued on the whole pre- dominant. The temper of the Scottish nation seemed altogether indisposed to receive any of the various sects which had proved so prolific in England. The quiet and harmless Quakers were the only sectaries who gained some prose- lytes of distinction. Independents of other deneminations made small progress, owing to the vigilance with which the Presbyterian cler- gy maintained the unity of the Church. Even Cromwell was compelled to show de- ference to the prevailing opinions. He named a commission of about thirty ministers from the class of Remonstrators, and declared that with- out certificates from three or four of these se- lect persons, no minister, though he might be called to a church, should enjoy a stipend. This put the keys of the Church (so far as emolu- ment was concerned) entirely into the hand« of the Presbyterians; and it may be presumed, fiiat such of the Commissioners as acted (for STATE OF THE COUNTRY. 293 many declined the office, thinking the duties of the Ecclesiastical Commission too much resem- bled Episcopacy) took care to admit no minis- ter whose opinions did not coincide with their own. The sectaries who were concerned in civil affairs, were also thwarted and contemned; and on the whole, in spite of the victories of the Independents in the field, their doctrines made little progress in Scotland. During the four years w^hich ensued betwixt the final cessation of the Civil War, by the dispersion of the royalist army, and the Res- toration of Monarchy, there occurred no pub- lic event worthy of notice. The spirit of the country was depressed and broken. The nobles, who hitherto had yielded but imperfect obedi- ence to their native monarchs, were now com- pelled to crouch under the rod of an English usurper. Most of them retired to their coun- try seats, or castles, and lived in obscurity, en- joying such limited dominion over their vassals as the neighbourhood of the English garrisons permitted them to retain. These, of course, prevented all calling of the people to arms, and exercise of the privilege, on the part of the barons, of making open war on each other. Thus far the subjection of the country was of advantage to the tenantry and lower class- es, who enjoyed more peace and tranquil- lity than had been their lot during the civil wars. But the weight of oppressive taxes, col- lected by means of a foreign soldiery, and the general sense of degradation, arising from their 25* 2^4 TRIALS FOR WITCHCRAFT. subjugation to a foreign power, counterba- lanced for the time the diminution of feudal op- pression. In the absence of other matter, I may here mention a subject which is interesting, as pecu- liarly characteristic of the manners of Scotland. I mean the frequent recurrence of prosecutions for witchcraft, which distinguishes this period. Scripture refers more than once to the exist- ence of witches ; and though divines have doubted concerning their nature and character, yet most European nations have retained in their statutes, laws founded upon the text of Exodus, "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live." The Reformers, although rejecting the miracles of the Catholic Church, retained with tenacity the belief of the existence of such sorceresses, and zealously enforced the penalties against all unfortunate creatures w^hom they believed to fall under the description of witches, wdzards, or the like. The increase of general informa- tion and common sense, has, at a later period, occasioned the annulling of those cruel law^s in most countries of Europe. It has been judiciously thought, that, since the Almighty has ceased to manifest his own power by direct and miraculous suspension of the ordinary laws of nature, it is inconsistent to suppose that evil spirits shoidd be left at liberty to form a league with wretched mortals, and impart to them supernatural powers of in- juring or tormenting others. And the truth of this reasoning has been proved by the general foct, that where the laws ap^ainst witchcraft v*^. TRIALS FOR Vv ITCIICRAFT. 296 have been abolished, witches are rarely heard of, or thought of, even amongst the lowest vulgar. But in the seventeenth century, the belief in this imaginary crime was general, and the pro- secutions, especially in Scotland, were very frequent. James VI., who often turned the learning he had acquired to a very idle use, was at the trouble to write a treatise against witchcraft, as he composed another against smoking tobacco ; and the Presbyterian clergy, however little apt to coincide with that Mo- narch's sentiments, gave full acceptation to his opinion on the first point of doctrine, and very many persons were put to death as guilty of this imaginary crime. I must, however, observe, that some of those executed for witchcraft well deserved their fate. Impostors of both sexes were found, who deluded credulous persons, by pretending an intercourse with supernatural powers, and furnished those who consulted them with po- tions, for the purpose of revenging themselves on their enemies, which were in fact poisonous compounds, sure to prove fatal to those who partook of them. Among many other instances, I may mention that of a lady of high rank, the second wife of a northern earl, who, being desirous of destroy- ing her husband's eldest son by the former marriage, in order that her own son might suc- ceed to the father's title and estates, procured drugs to effect her purpose from a Highland woman, who pretended to be a witch or sov- 296 TRIALS FOR WITCHCRAFT. ceress. The fatal ingredients were mixed with ale, and set aside by the wicked countess, to be given to her victim on the first fitting opportu- nity. But Heaven disappointed her purpose, and, at the same time, inflicted on her a dread- ful punishment. Her own son, for whose ad- vantage she meditated this horrible crime, re- turning fatigued and thirsty from hunting, lighted by chance on this fatal cup of liquor, drank it without hesitation, and died in con- sequence. The wretched mixer of the poison was tried and executed ; but, although no one could be sorry that the agent in such a deed was brought to punishment, it is clear she deserved death, not as a witch, but as one who was an accom- plice in murder by poison. But most of the poor creatures who suffered death for witchcraft were aged persons, women in general, living alone, in a poor and misera- ble condition, and disposed, from the peevish- ness of age and infirmity, to rail against or de- sire evil, in their froward humour, to neigh- bours by whom they were abused or slighted. When such had unwittingly given vent to im- potent anger in bad wishes or imprecations, if a child fell sick, a horse became lame, a bul- lock died, or any other misfortune chanced in the family against which the ill-will had been expressed, it subjected the bitterer instantly to the charge of witchcraft, and was received by judges and jury as a strong proof of guilt. If, in addition to this, the miserable creature had, hy the oddity of hrr manners, the crossness of TRIALS FOR WITCHCRAFT. her temper, the habit of speaking to herself, or any other signs of the dotage which attends comfortless old age and poverty, attracted the suspicions of her credulous neighbours, she Avas then said to have been held and reputed a witch, and was rarely permitted to escape the stake. It was equally fatal for an aged person of the lower ranks, if, as was frequently the case, she conceived herself to possess any peculiar receipt or ch?.riTi for curing diseases, either by the application of medicines, of w'hich she had acquired the secret, or by repeating words, or using spells and charms, which the superstition of the time supposed to have the power of re- lieving maladies that were beyond the skill of medical practitioners. Such a person was held a white wdtch ; one, that is, who employed her skill for the benefit, not th^ harm, of her fellow-creatures. But still she was a sorceress, and, as such, was lia- ble to be brought to the stake. Such a doc- tress w^as equally exposed to such a charge, whether her patient died or recovered ; and she was, according to circumstances, condemn- ed for using sorcery to cure or to kill. Her alle- gation that she had received the secret from family tradition, or from any other source, was not admitted as a defence ; and she was doomed to death with as little hesitation for having at- tempted to cure by mysterious and unlawful means, as if she had been charged, as in the instance already given, with having assisted to f ommit murder. 298 TRIALS FOR WITCHCRAFT. The following example of such a case is worthy of notice. It rests on tradition, but is very likely to be true. An eminent English judge was travelling the circuit, when an old woman was brought before him for using a spell to cure dimness of sight by hanging a clew of yarn round the neck of the patient. Marvellous things were told by the witnesses, ofthe cures which this spell had performed on patients, far beyond the reach of ordinary medi- cine. The poor woman made no other defence than by protesting, that if there was any witch- craft in the ball of yarn, she knew nothing of it. It had been given her, she said, thirty years before, by a young Oxford student, for the cure of one of her own family, who having used it with advantage, she had seen no harm in lend- ing it for the relief of others who laboured under similar infirmity, or in accepting a small gratuity for doing so. Her defence was little attended to by the jury; but the judge was much agitated. He asked the woman where she resided when she obtained possession of this valuable relic. She gave the name of a village, in which she had In former times kept a petty alehouse. He then looked at the clew very earnestly, and at length addressed the jury. " Gentlemen," he said, "we are on the point of committing a great injustice to this poor old woman ; and, to j)revent it, I must puldicly confess a piece of early folly, which does me no honour. At the lime this poor creature speaks of, I was at col- h^ge, leading an idle and careless life, which, .1 TRIALS FOR WITCHCRAFT. 299 had I not been given ^race to correct it, must have made it highly improbable that ever I should have attained my present situation. I chanced to remain for a day and night in this woman's alehouse, without having money to discharge my reckoning. Not knowing what to do, and seeing her much occupied with a child who had weak eyes, I liad the meanness to pretend that I could write out a spell that would mend her daughter's sight, if she would accept it instead of her bill. The ignorant woman readily agreed ; and I scrawled some figures on a piece of parchment, and added two lines of nonsensical doggrel, in ridicule of her credulity, and caused her to make it up in that clew which has so nearly cost her her life. To prove the truth of it, let the yarn be unwound, and you may judge of the efficacy of the spell." The clew was unwound accordingly ; and this pithy couplet was found on the enclosed bit of parchment — " The Devil scratch out both thine eyes, And spit into the holes likewise." It was evident that those who were cured by such a spell, must have been indebted to nature, with some assistance, perhaps, from imagina- tion. But the users of such charms w^ere not always so lucky as to light upon the person who drew them up ; and many unfortunate creatures were executed, as the poor ale-wife would have been, had she not lighted upon her former customer in the character of her judge. Another old woman is said to have cured 300 TRIALS FOR WrnnCR AFT. many cattle of the murrain, by a repetition of a certain verse. The fee which she required, was a loaf of bread and a silver penny ; and when she was commanded to reveal the magi- cal verses which wrought such wonders, they were found to be the following jest on the cre- dulity of her customers :— " My loaf in my lap, and my penny in my purse, Thou art never the better, and I never the worse." It was not medicine only which witchery was supposed to mingle with ; but any remarkable degree of dexterity in an art or craft, whether attained by skill or industry, subjected those who possessed it to similar suspicion. Thus it was a dangerous thing to possess more thriving cows than those of the neighbourhood, though their superiority was attained merely by paying greater attention to feeding and cleaning the animals. It was often an article of suspicion, that a woman had spun considerably more thread than her less industrious neighbours chose to think could be accomplished by ordinary indus- try ; and, to crown these absurdities, a yeoman of the town of Mailing, in Kent, was accused before a Justice of Peace as a sorcerer, because he used more frequently than his companions to hit the mark which he aimed at. This dex- terity, and some idle story of the archer's amusing himself with letting a fly hum and ])uzz around. him, convinced the judge, that the poor man's skill in liis art was owing to the assistance of some imp of 8atan. So ho pun- »:-jlied the marksman severely, to the great en- TRIALS FOR WITCHCRAFT. 301 couragement of archery, and as a wise exam- ple to all Justices of the Peace. Other charges, the most ridiculous and im- probable, were brought against those suspected of witchcraft. They were supposed to have power, by going through some absurd and im- pious ceremony, to summon to their presence the Author of Evil, who appeared in some mean or absurd shape, and, in return for their renouncing their redemption, gave them the power of avenging themselves on their ene- mies ; which privilege, with that of injuring and teazing their fellow creatures, was almost all they gained from their new master. Some- times, indeed, they obtained from him the powe of flying through the air on broom-sticks, when the Foul Fiend gave public parties ; and the accounts given of the ceremonies practised on such occasions are equally disgusting and vulgar, totally foreign to any idea we can have of a spiritual nature, and only fit to be invented and believed by the most ignorant and brutal of the human species. Another of these absurdities was, the belief that the evil spirits would attend if they were invoked with certain profane ceremonies, such as reading the Lord's Prayer backwards, or the like ; and would then tell the future for- tunes of those w^ho had raised them, as it w^as called, or inform them what was become of articles which had been lost or stolen. Staries are told of such exploits by grave authors, which are to the full as ridiculous, and more BO, than any thing that is to be found in fairy Vol. I. 26 302 TRIALS FOR Wl TCIICRAFT. tales, invented for the amusement of children. And for all this incredible nonsense, mifortu- nate creatures were imprisoned, tortured, and finally burnt alive,by the sentence of their judges. It is strange to find, that the persons accused of this imaginary crime in most cases paved the way for their own condemnation, by con- fessing and admitting the truth of all the mon- strous absurdities which were charged against them by their accusers. This may surprise you ; but yet it can be accounted for. Many of these poor creatures were crazy, and infirm in mind as well as body ; and, hear- ing themselves charged with this monstrous enormity by those whom they accounted wise and learned, became half persuaded of their own guilt, and assented to all the nonsensical questions which were put to them. But this was not all. Very many made these confessions under the influence of torture, which was ap- plied to them with cruel severity. It is true, the ordinary courts of justice in Scotland had not the power of examining cri- minals under torture, which was reserved for the Privy Council. But this was a slight pro- tection ; for witches were seldom tried before the ordinary Criminal Courts, because the law- yers, though they could not deny the existence of a crime for which the law had laid down a punishment, yet showed a degree of incredibi- lity respecting witchcraft, which was supposed frequently to lead to the escape of "^ those ac- cused of this unpopular crime, when in the management of professional persons. TRIALS FOR WITCHCRAFT. o03 ^^To avoid the ordinary jurisdiction of the Justiciary, and other regular criminal jurisdic- tions, the trial of witchcraft in the provinces "was usually brought before commissioners ap- pointed by the Privy Council. These commis- sioners were commonly country-gentlemen and clergymen, who, from ignorance on the one side, misdirected learning on the other, and bigotry on both, were as eager in the prosecu- tion as the vulgar could desire. By their com- mission they had the power of torture, and employed it unscrupulously, usually calling in to their assistance a witch-finder ; a fellow, that is, who made money by pretending to have a peculiar art and excellence in discover- ing these offenders, and who sometimes under- took to rid a parish or township of witches at so much a-head, as if they had been foxes, wild cats, or other vermin. These detestable imposters directed the pro- cess of the torture, which frequently consisted in keeping the aged and weary beings from sleeping, and walking them forcibly up and down their prison, whenever they began to close their eyes, and in running needles into their flesh, under pretence of discovering a mark, which the witch-fxuders affirmed the devil had impressed on their skin, in token that they were his property and subjects. It is no won- der that wretched creatures, driven mad by want of sleep and pain, confessed any thing whatsoever to obtain a moment's relief, though they were afterwards to die for it. But, besides the craziness of such victims, 304 TRIALS FOR WITCHCRAFT. and the torture to which they were subjected^ shame and weariness of life were often a cause of their pleading guilty to accusations in them- selves absurd and impossible. You must con- sider, that the persons accused of witchcraft were almost always held guilty by the public and by their neighbours, and that if the court scrupled to condemn them, it was a common thing for the mob to take the execution into their own hands, and duck the unhappy wretches to death, or otherwise destroy them. The fear of such a fate might determine many of the accused, even though they were in their sound mind, and unconstrained by bodily tor- ture, to plead guilty at once, and rather lose their wretched life by the sentence of the law, than expose themselves to the fury of the mul- titude. A singular story is told to this effect. An old woman and her daughter were tried as witches, at Haddington. The principal evidence of the crime was, that though mise- rably poor, the two had contrived to look " fresh and fair," during the progress of a ter- rible famine, which reduced even the better classes to straits, and brought all indigent peo- ple to the point of starving, and all the while these two women, without either begging or complaining, lived on in their usual way, and never seemed to suffer by the general calamity. The jury were perfectly satisfied that this could not take place by any natural means ; and, as the accused persons, on undergoing the disci- pline of one Kincaid, a witch-fmdcr, readily admitted all that was asked about their inter- TRIALS FOR WITCHCRAFT. 305 course with the devil, the jury, on their confession, brought them in guilty without hesitation. The King's Advocate for the time (I believe Sir George Mackenzie is named) was sceptical on the subject of witchcraft. He visited the women in private, and urged them to tell the real truth. They continued at first to maintain the story they had given in their confession. But the Advocate, perceiving them to be wo- men of more sense than ordinary, urged upon them the crime of being accessory to their own death, by persisting in accusing themselves of impossibilities, and promised them life and protection, providing they would unfold the true secret which they used for their subsist- ence. The poor women looked wistfully on each other, like people that are in perplexity. At length, the mother said, " You are very good, my lord, and I dare say your power is very great, but you cannot be of use to my daughter and me. If you were to set us at liberty from the bar, you could not free us from the suspi- cion of being witches. As soon as we return to our hut, we will be welcomed by the vio- lence and abuse of all our neighbours, who, if they'do not beat our brains out, or drown us on the spot, will retain a hatred and ill-will, which will show itself on every occasion, and make our life so miserable, that Ave have made up our minds to prefer death at once." " Do not be afraid of your neighbours," said the Advocate. " If von will trust vour secret 26 * 306 TRIALS FOR WITCHCRAFT. with me, I will take care of you for the rest of your lives, and send you to an estate of mine in the north, where nobody can know any thing of your history, and where indeed, the people's ideas are such, that, if they thought you witches, they would rather regard you with fear than hatred." The women, moved by his promises, told him, that, if he would cause to be removed an old empty trunk which stood in the corner of their hut, and dig the earth where he saw it had been stirred, he would find the secret by means of which they had been supported through the famine ; protesting to Heaven, at the same time, that they were totally innocent of any un- lawful arts such as had been imputed to them. Sir George Mackenzie hastened to examine the spot, and found concealed in the earth two fir- kins of salted Snails, one of them nearly empty. On this strange food the poor women had been nourished during the famine. The Advocate was as good as his word ; and the story shows how little weight is to be laid on the frequent confessions of the party in cases of witchcraft. As this story is only traditional, I will men- tion two others of the same kind, to which I can give a precise date. ^ The first of these instances regards a woman of rank, much superior to those who were usu- ally accused of this imaginary crime. She was sister of Sir John Henderson, of Fordel, and wife to the Laird of Pittardo, in Fife. Not- withstanding her honourable birth, this unfor- tunate matron was, in the year 1649, imprison- I TRIALS FOR WITCHCRAFT. 307 ed in the common jail of Edinburgh, from the month of July till the middk of the month of December, when she was found dead, with every symptom of poison. Undoubtedly the iniamy of the charge, and the sense that it must destroy her character and disgrace her family, was the cause which instigated her to commit suicide. The same sentiment which drove this poor lady to her death, was expressed by a female, young and handsome, executed at Paisley, in 1697, in the following short answer to some of her triends, who were blaming her for not being sufficiently active in defending herself upon her trial. " They have taken away my character," she said, " and my life is not worth saving." It Mas remarkable that the number of sup- posed witches seemed to increase in proportion to the increase of punishment. On the 22d of May, 1650, the Scottish Parliament named a committee for inquiry into the depositions of no less than fifty-four watches, with power to grant such commissions as we have already de- scribed, to proceed with their trial, condemna- tion, and execution. Supposing these dreaded sorceresses to exist in such numbers, and to possess the powers of injury imputed to them, it was to be expected, as Reginald Scot ex- presses himself, that " there would neither be butter in the churn, nor cow in the close, nor corn in the field, nor fair weather without, or health within doors." Indeed, the extent to which people indulged their horrors and sus- 308 TRIALS FOFv -vVITCHCRAFT. picions, was in itself the proof of their being fanciful. If, in a small province, or even a petty town, there had existed scores of people pos- sessed of supernatural pov/er, the result would be, that the laws of nature would have been lia- ble to constant interruption. The English judges appointed for Scotland in Cromwell's time, saw the cruelty and ab- surdity of witch-trials, and endeavoured to put a stop to them ; but the thanks which they re- ceived were only reflections on their principles of toleration, the benefit of which, in the opi- nion of the Scots, was extended by this lenity, not only to heretics of every denomination, but even to those who worshipped the devil. Some went still further, and accused the Sectaries of admitting intercourse with evil spirits into their devotions. This was particularly reported and believed of the Quakers, the most simple and moral of all dissenters from the church. Wiser and better views on the subject began to prevail in the end of the seventeenth centu- ry, and capital prosecutions for this imaginary crime were seen to decrease. The last instance of execution for witchcraft, took place in the remote province of Sutherland, in 1727, under the direction of an ignorant provincial judge, who was censured for the proceeding. The victim was an old woman in her last dotage, so silly that she was delighted to warm her wrinkled hands at the fire which was to con- sume her ; and while they were preparing for her execution, often said, so good a blaze, and 80 many neighbours gathered round it, made I TRIALS FOR WITCHCRAFT. 309 the most cheerful sight she had seen for many- years ! The laws against witchcraft, both in England and Scotland, were abolished ; and persons who pretend to fortune-telling, the use of spells, or similar mysterious feats of skill, are now pu- nished as common knaves and impostors. Since this has been the case, no one has ever heard of witches or witchcraft, even among the most ignorant of the vulgar ; so that the crime must have been entirely imaginary, since it ceased to exist so soon as men ceased to hunt it out for punishment. [ 310 ] CHAP, XV. CromwelVs System of Government — his Death — Richard CromwelVs Accession to the PrO' tectorate^ and retirement from it — Anecdotes of him — General Menkes advance to London — Dissolution of the Long Parliament — Sir John Grenville's Interview with Monk, and Proposal for the Recall of the Exiled SteW' arts — Tlie Restoration— ^Arrival of Charles II. at Dover. Oliver Cromwell, who, in the extraordina- ry manner I have told you, raised himself to the supreme sovereignty of England, Scotland, and Ireland, v/as a man of great talents, and, as has been already said, not naturally of a severe or revengeful disposition. He made the coun- try formidable to foreign powers, and perhaps no government was ever more respected abroad than that of the Lord Protector. At home he had a very difficult task to per- form, in order to maintain his usurped authori- ty. He was obliged repeatedly, as has been successfully done in other countries by usurp- ers of his own class, to convoke some species of senate or parliament, consisting of his own creatures, Avho might divide with him the pow- er, in outward appearance, and save him the odium of governing by his sole authority. But such was the spirit of the English nation, that whenever Cromwell convoked a Parliament, SPIES EMPLOYED BY CROMWELL. 311 though in a great measure consisting of his own partizans, and though the rest were studi- ously chosen as mean and ignorant persons, the instant that they met they began to inquire into the ground of the Protector's authority, and propose measures which interfered with his assumption of supreme power. In addition to this, the various factions into which the country was divided, all agreed in hating the usurped power of the Protector, and were all engaged in conspiracies against him, which were conceived and carried on not only by Cavaliers and Presbyterians, but by Republicans, and even by soldiers among his own ranks. Thus hard pressed on every side, he displayed the utmost sagacity in his mode of defending himself. On two or three occa- sions, indeed, he held what he called High Courts of Justice, by whose doom both Cava- liers and Presbyterians suifered capital punish- ment, for plots against his government. But it was with reluctance Cromwell resorted to such severe measures. His general policy was to balance parties against each other, and make each of them desirous of the subsistence of his authority, rather than run the risk of seeing it changed for some other than their own. At great expense and by constant assi- duity, he maintained spies in the councils of every faction of the state, and often the least suspected, and apparently most vehement, among the hostile parties, were, in private, the mercenary tools of Cromwell. In the wandering court of Charles II. in par- 312 UICIIARI) CROMWELL. " - - , m ticular, one of the most noted cavaliers was Sir Richard Willis, who had fought bravely, and suffered much, in the cause both of the late King and of his son. There was no man among the Royalists who attended on Charles's person so much trusted and honoured as this gentleman, who, nevertheless, enjoyed a large pension from Cromwell, and betrayed to him whatever schemes were proposed for the res- toration of the exiled monarch. By this and similar intercourse, the Protector had the means of preventing the numerous conspira- cies against him from coming to a head, and also of opposing the machinations of one dis- contented party, by means of the others. It is believed, however, that with all his art,- the Protector would not have been able ta maintain his power for many years. A peo-- pie long accustomed to a free government, were generally incensed at being subjected to the unlimited authority of one man, and the discontent became universal. It seemed that, towards the conclusion of his life, Cromwell was nearly at the end of his expedients ; and it is certain, that his own conduct then display- ed an apprehension of danger which he had never before exhibited. He became morose and melancholy, always wore secret armour under his ordinary dress, and shifted his bed- chamber repeatedly, to prevent assassination. His health broke down under these gloomy ap- prehensions; and on the 3d of September, 1658, he died, at the age of sixty. His deatli was ac- companied by a general and fearful tempest ; RICHARD CROMWELL. 313 and by another circumstance equally striking in those superstitious times, namely, that he died on the day and month in which he had gained his decisive victories at Dunbar and Worcester. The sceptre, which Oliver had held with so firm a grasp, was transferred to that of his son, Richard Cromwell ; while the funeral of the deceased Protector w^as solemnized at an ex- pense superior far to what England had bestow- ed on the obsequies of any of her kings. But this apparent transmission of Oliver's authori- ty to his son was only nominal. A Parliament, which Richard assembled that they might vote him supplies, commenced an inquiry into the nature of the new Lord Protector's title ; and a council of officers whom he convoked, be- came refractory, and assumed an authority which he dared not dispute with them. These military despots compelled Richard to dissolve the Parliament, and subsequently obliged him to resign the office of Protector. He descend- ed quietly into humble life, burdened not only by many personal debts, but also by the de- mands of those -who had supplied the exorbi- tant expenses of his father's funeral, which the State unworthily and meanly suffered to de- scend upon him. Richard Cromwell, removed from the dan- gers and the guilt of power, lived a long and peaceable life, and died in 1712, at the age of eighty-six. Two anecdotes respecting him are worth mentioning. When he was obliged to retire abroad on account of his debts, Richard Vol. I. 27 314 ANECDOTES OF Cromwell was led, from curiosity, to visit Pe- zenas, a fine place in Langiiedoc. The Prince of Conti, a French prince of the blood royal, hearing an English traveller was in the palace, had the curiosity to receive him, that he might learn the latest news from Eng- land, which at this time astonished Europe by its frequent changes of government. The French prince spoke of Oliver Cromwell as a wicked man, and a lawless usurper of the go- vernment ; but then he acknowledged his deep sagacity,high talents, and courage in danger, and admired the art and force with which he had sub- jected three kingdoms to his own individual au- thority. " He knew how to command," conti- nued the prince, " and deserved to be obeyed. But what has become of the poor poltroon, Richard — the coward, the dastard, who gave up, without a blow or struggle, all that his father had gained ? Have you any idea how the man could be such a fool, and mean-spirited caitiff?" Poor Richard, glad to remain unknown where he was so little esteemed, only replied, "that the abdicated Protector had been de- ceived by those in whom he most trusted, and to whom his father had shown most kindness." He then took leave of the prince, who did not learn till two days afterwards, that he had ad- dressed so unpleasing a discourse to the person whom it principally regarded. The other anecdote is of a later date, being subsequent to 1705. Some lawsuit of import- ance required that Richard Cromwell should appear in the King's Bench Court. The judge RICHARD CROMWELL. 315 who presided showed a generous deference to fallen greatness, and to the mutability of human affairs. He received with respect the man who had been once Sovereign of England, caused a chair to be placed for him within the bar, and requested him to be covered. When the coun- sel on the opposite side began his speech, as if about to allude to Richard's descent from the obnoxious Oliver, the judge checked him with generous independence. " I will hear nothing on that topic, sir," he said ; " speak to the merits of the cause before us." After his appearance in court, Richard Crom- well's curiosity carried him to the House of Peers, where he stood below the bar, looking around him, and making observations on the al- terations which he saw. A person who heard a decent looking old man speaking in this way, said to him, civilly, " It is probably a long while, sir, since you have been in this house ?" — *' Not since I sat in that chair," answered the old gentleman, pointing to the throne, on which he had been, indeed, seated as sovereign, when, more than fifty years before, he received the addresses of both Houses of Parliament, on his succeeding to his father in the supreme power. To return to public affairs in London, where changes succeeded with as little permanence, as the reflection of faces presented to a mirror, the attempt of the officers of the army to es- tablish a purely military government, was com- batted by the return to Parliament of those re- publican members vrhom Oliver Cromwell had expelled, and whom the common people, by a 310 GENERAL vulgar but expressive nickname, now called tlie Rump Parliament. This assembly, so called because it was the sitting part of that wiiich commenced the civil war, were again subjected to military violence, and dissolved by General Lambert, a person who unquestionably design- ed in his own person to act the part of Oli- ver Cromwell, though without either the talents or high reputation of the original performer. But a general change had taken place in the sentiments of the nation. The public had been to a certain degree pa- tient under the government of Oliver, to whom it was impossible to deny all the praise which belongs to firmness and energy ; but they saw with disgust these feeble usurpers bustle amongst themselves, and push each other from the rudder of the state, without consulting the people at large. Remembering the quiet and peaceful condition of the kingdom before the civil wars, when its kings succeeded by a here- ditary right to a limited power, and when the popular and monarchical branches of the consti- tution so justly balanced each other, that the whole British nation looked back to the period as one of liberty, peace, and lawful order ; and comparing this happy state with the recent manner in which every successive faction seized upon power when they could snatch it, and again yielded it up to the grasp of another and stronger party, all men were tilled with dissatisfaction. U])on the whole, (he tlioughts of all the judi- cious part of the nation were turned towards the MARCH OF GENEUAL MONK. 317 exiled Prince, and there was a general desire to call him back to the exercise of the govern- ment, which was only suppressed by the strong hand of the armed fanatics. It was absolutely necessary that some military force should be on foot, in order to cope with these Avarlike Saints, as they called themselves, before the general in- clination of the kingdom could have room or freedom to express itself. As it was the disturbances in Scotland which first shook the throne of Charles the First, so it was from the same country that the move ment took place which eventually replaced on the throne his son and heir. We have already noticed, that the kingdom of Scotland had been finally subdued by the efforts of General Monk, who afterwards governed it during the protec- torate of Cromwell, and in obedience to his au- thority. Monk was a man of a grave, reserved, and sagacious character, who had gained general esteem by the manner in which he managed Scottish affairs. He had taken care to model the veteran troops in that kingdom, so as to subject them to his own separate control, and to detach from their command such officers as were either violent enthusiasts, or peculiarly attached to Lambert and his council of officers. Thus having under his immediate command a moveable force of -between seven and eight thousand men, besides those necessary to garri- son Scotland, Monk eagerly watched the con- test of the factions in London, in order to per- ceive and seize on the ilt opportunity for action. 27* 318 MARCH OF GENERAL MONK. This seemed to arrive, when the army under Lambert again thrust the Rump Parliament out of doors, and commenced a new military go- vernment, by means of a committee of officers, called the Council of Safety. Monk then threw aside the mask of indifference which he had long worn, assembled his forces on the borders, and declared for the freedom of Parliament, and against the military faction by which they had been suppressed. The persuasion was uni- versal throughout Britain, that Monk, by these general expressions, meant something more ef- fectual than merely restoring the authority of the Rump, which had fallen into the common contempt of all men, by the repeated acts of violence to which they had tamely submitted. But General Monk, allowing all parties to suppose what they thought most probable, proceeded to make his preparations for march- ing with the greatest deliberation, without suffering even a whisper to escape concern- ing the ultimate objects of the expedition. He assembled the Scottish Convention of Estates, and asked and received from them a supply of six month's pay, for the maintenance of his troops. Their confidence in his intentions was such, that they offered him the support of a Scottisli army of twenty-four thousand men ; but Monk declined assistance which would have been unpopular in England. He then proceed- ed in his plan of ncw-modclling his army, with more boldness than before, dismissing many of the Independent officers, and supply- ing their places M'ith Presbyterians, and even with secret Royalists. 1 UPON THE BORDERS, 319 The news of these proceedings spread through England, and were generally received with joy. Universal resistance was made to the payment of taxes ; for the Rump Parliament had, on the eve of its expulsion by Lambert, declared it high treason to levy money without consent of Parliament, and the provinces, where Lambert and his military council had no power of enforcing their illegal exactions, refused to obey them. The Council of Safety wanted money therefore, and were in extreme per- plexity. Lambert himself, a brave man and a good offi- cer, saw the necessity of acting with prompti- tude, and placing himself at the head of a con- siderable force of veteran soldiers, marched to- wards Scotland. His numbers were enhanced by the report of the various spies and agents whom he sent into Monk's army under the guise of envoys. " What will you do ?" said one of these persons, addressing a party of Monk's soldiers ; " Lambert is coming down against you with such numerous forces, that your army will not be a breakfast for him." " The north must have given Lambert a good appetite,'* answered one of the veterans, " if he be wil- ling to chew bullets, and feed upon pikes and musket barrels." In this tone of defiance the two armies moved against each other. Lambert took up his head quarters at Newcastle. Monk, on the other hand, placed his at Coldstream, on the Tweed, a place which commanded the second be»t passage over that river» Berwick being al- 320 MONK AND LAMBERT. ready in his hands. Coldstream, now a thriv- ing town, was then so miserable, that Monk could get no supper, even for his own table, but was fain to have recourse to chewing tobacco to appease his hunger. Next day provisions were sent from Berwick ; and the camp at Coldstream is still kept in memory in the En- glish army, by the first regiment of Guards, which was one of those that composed Monk's vanguard, being called to this day the Cold- stream regiment. The rival generals at first engaged in a trea- ty, which Monk, perceiving Lambert's forces to be more numerous than his own, for some time encouraged, aware that want of pay, and of the luxuries to which they were accustomed in London, would soon induce his rival's troops to desert him. Disaftection and weariness accordingly began to diminish Lambert's forces, when at length they heard news from the capital by which they were totally dispirited. During Lambert's ab- sence, the presidency in the Military Commit- tee, and the command of such of the army as remained to overawe London, devolved on Ge- neral Fleetwood, a weak man, who really was overcome by the feelings of fanaticism, which others only aftected. Incapable of any exer- tion, this person sufl^ered the troops to be se- duced from his interest to that of the Rump Parliament, which thus came again, and for the last time, into power. With these tidings came to Newcastle others of a nature scarce less alarming. The celc PROCEEDINGS OF MONK. 821 brated General Fairfax had taken arms in York- shire, and was at the head of considerable forces, both Cavaliers and Presbyterians, who declared for calling a free Parliament, that the national will might be consulted in the most constitutional manner, for once more regaining the blessing of a settled government. The sol- diers of Lambert, disconcerted by these events, and receiving no pay, began to break up ; and when Lambert himself attempted to lead them back to London, they left him in such numbers, that his army seemed actually to dissolve away, and leave the road to the capital open to Monk and the Scottish forces. That General moved on accordingly, without opposition, carefully concealing his own inten- tions, receiving favourably all the numerous applications which were made to him for call- ing a new and free Parliament, in order to re- generate the national constitution, but returning no reply which could give the slightest intima- tion of his ultimate purpose. Monk observed this mystery, in order, per- haps, that he might reserve to himself the power of being guided by circumstances — at all events, knowing well, that if he were to de- clare in favour of any one party or set of prin- ciples, Simon g the various factious opinions which divided the state, tlie others would at once unite against him, which they would bo loath to attempt, while each as yet entertained hopes that he might turn to their side. With the eyes of all the nation fixed upon him and his forces, Monk advanced to Barnet, 322 PROCEEDINGS OF MONK within ten miles of London, and from thence caused the Parliament to understand that they would do well to send from the city the re- mains of the army of Fleetwood, in case of dis- cord between his troops and those which at present occupied the capital. The Rump Par- liament had no alternatire but to take the hint, unless they had resolved to try the fate of bat- tle at the head of those insubordinate troops, who had more than once changed sides between Lambert and Fleetwood on one side, and them- selves on the other, against the steady veterans of the Scottish wars. The late army of Fleetwood, excepting two regiments commanded by men whom Monk could perfectly trust, were ordered to leave the city, and the Scottish general entered at the head of his troops, who, rough from a toilsome march, and bearing other marks of severe ser- vice, made a far more hardy and serviceable, though a less showy appearance, than those who had so long bridled the people of London. General Monk, and the remnant of the Par- liament, met with external civility, but with great distrust on both sides. They propounded to him the oath of abjuration, as it was called, by which he was to renounce and abjure all al- legiance to the House of Stewart, and all at- tempts to restore Charles II. But the General declined taking the oath ; too many oaths, he said, had been already imposed on the public, unless they had been better kept. This cir- cumstance seemed to throw light on Monk's in- tentions, and the citizens of London, now as ON REACHING LONDON. 323 anxious for the King's Restoration as ever they had been for the expulsion of his father, passed a vote in Common Council, by which they de- clared they would pay no taxes or contributions to this shadow of a Parliament, until the vacant seats in it should be filled up to the full extent of a genuine House of Commons. The Rump Parliament had now, they con- ceived, an opportunity of ascertaining Monk's real purpose, and forcing him to a decisive measure. They laid their express commands on him to march into the city, seize upon the gates, break down the portcullises, destroy the ports, chains, and other means of defending the streets, and take from the contumacious citizens all means of protecting in future the entrance into the capital. Monk, to the astonishment of most of his own officers, obeyed the commands thus im- posed on him. He was probably desirous of ascertaining whether the disposition of his troops would induce them to consider the task as a harsh and unworthy one. Accordingly, he no sooner heard his soldiers exclaiming at the disgrace of becoming the tools of the vengeance of the Rump members against the City of Lon- don, than he seemed to adopt their feelings and passions as his own, and like them complained, and complained aloud, of having been employ- ed in an unjust and unpopular task, for the ex- press purpose of rendering him odious to the citizens. At this crisis, the rashness of the ruling junto, for it would be absurd to term them a Par 324 PROCEEDINGS OF MONK t ' ' ' ' "•'"" liament, gave the General, whom it was their business to propitiate, if possible, a new subject of complaint. They encouraged a body of the most fanatical sectaries, headed by a ridiculous personage called Praise-God Barebones, to present a violent petition to the House, de- manding that no one should be admitted to any office of public trust, or so much as to teach a school, without his having taken the abjuration oath; and proposing, that any motion made in Parliament for the Restoration of the King should be visited with the pains of high treason. The tenor of this petition, and the honour and favour which it received when presented, gave Monk the further cause of complaint against the Rump, or Remnant of the Parlia- ment, which perhaps he had been seeking for. '^ He refused to return to Whitehall, where he had formerly lodged, and took up his abode in the City, where he found it easy to excuse his late violence upon their defences, and to atone for it by declaring himself their protector and ally. From his quarters in the heart of London, the General wrote to the Parliament an angry expostulation, charging them with a design to arm the more violent fanatics, and call in the assistance of Fleetwood and Lambert against the Scottish army ; and recommending to them, in a tone of authority, forthwith to dis- solve themselves, and call a new Parliament, which should be open to all parties. The Par- liament, greatly alarmed at this intimation, sent two of their members to communicate with the ON REACIIi.NG LONDON. 325 General; but they could only extract from him, that if writs went instantly forth for the new elections, it would be -^ry well, otherwise, he and they were likely to disagree. The assurance that General Monk had openly quarrelled with the present rulers, and was dis- posed to insist for a free and full Parliament, was made public by the printing and dispersing of the General's letter, and the tidings filled the City with most extravagant rejoicings. The rabble rung all the bells, lighted immense bon- fires in every street, and danced around them, while they drank healths to the General, the secluded members-, and even to the King. But the principal part of their amusement was roasting rumps of poultry, or fragments of butcher-meat cut into that form, in ridicule of their late rulers, whose power they foresaw would cease, whenever a full Parliament should be convened. The revelry lasted the Vv'hole night, which was that of 11th February, 1660. Monk, supported at once by military strength and the consciousness of general popularity, did not wait until the new Parliament should be assembled, or the present dissolved, to take measures for destroying the influence of the junto now sitting at Westminster. He com- pelled them to open their doors to, and admit to their deliberations and votes, all the secluded members of their body, who had been expelled from their seats by military violence, since it was first practised on the occasion called Colo- nel Pride's Purge. These members, returning to ParUament Vol. I. 28 326 DISSOLUTION or the accordingly, made by their numbers such a predominant majority in the House, that the fifty or sixty persons, Vho had lately been at the head of the Government, were instantly reduced to the insignificance, as a party, from which they had only emerged by dint of the force which had been exercised to exclude the large body who were now restored to their seats. The first acts of the House thus renovated were to disband the refractory part of the army, to dispossess the disaffected officers, of whom there were very many, and to reduce the coun- try to a state of tranquillity ; after which they dissolved themselves, having first issued writs to summon a new Parliament, to meet on the 25th of April. Thus then finally ended the Long Parliament, as it is called, which had sat for nearly twenty years ; the most eventful period, perhaps, in British history. While this important revolution had been on the eve of taking place, Charles the Second's aflfairs seemed to be at a lower ebb than they had almost ever been before, A general insur- rection of the Cavaliers had been defeated by Lambert a few months before, andthe severe measures which followed had, for the time, to- tally suppressed the spirit, and almost crushed the party of the Royalists. It was in vain that Charles had made advances to Monk while in Scotland, both through the General's own bro- ther, and by means of Sir John Grenville, one of his nearest and most valued relatives and friends. If Monk's mind was then made up concerning the part which he designed to per- LONG PARLIAMENT. 327 form, he, at least, was determined to keep his purpose secret in his own bosom, and declined, therefore, though civilly, to hear any proposi- tion on the part of the banished family. The accounts which the little exiled court received concerning Monk*s advance into Eng- land were equally disconsolate. All intercourse with the Cavaliers had been carefully avoided by the cloudy and mysterious soldier, in whose hands Fortune seemed to place the fate of the British kingdoms. The general belief was, that Monk would renew, in his own person, the attempt in which Cromwell had succeeded and Lambert had failed, and again place a military commander at the head of the Government and it seemed confirmed by his harsh treatment of the City. While Charles and his attendants were m this state of despondence, they were suddenly astonished by the arrival from England of a partizan, named Baillie, an Irish Royalist, who had travelled with extreme rapidity to bring the exiled Prince the news of Monk's decided breach with the remnant of the Long Parlia- ment, and the temper which had been displayed by the City of London when it became public They listened to the messenger as they would have done to one speaking in a dream. Overwearied and fatigued by the journey, and strongly excited by the importance of the intelligence which he brought them, the officer seemed rather like one under the influence of temporary derangement or intoxication, than the deliberate bearer of great tidings. Hi* 328 THE RESTORATION. character was, however, known as a gentleman of fideUty and firmness, and they heard with wonder that London was blazing with bonfires, that the universal wish of the people of all sorts, boldly and freely expressed, demanded the restoration of the 'King to his authority, and that Monk had insisted upon the summoning of a free Parliament, which the junto had no longer the power of oj^posing. He produced also a copy of Monk's letter to the Parliament, to show that the General had completely broken with that body. Other messengers soon confirmed the joyful tidings, and Sir John Grenville was despatched to London in all haste, with full powers to offer the General every thing which could gratify ambition or love of wealth, on condition of his proving the friend of Charles at this crisis. This faithful and active Royalist reached the metropolis, and cautiously refusing to open his commission to any one, obtained a private interview with ithc mysterious and reserved General. He boldly communicated his creden- tials, and remained unappalled, when Monk, stepping back in surprise, asked him, with some emotion, how he dared become the bearer of such proposals, Sir John replied boldly, that all danger Vv-^hich miglit be incurred in obedi- ence to his Sovereign's command had become familiar to him from frequent practice, and that the King, from the course which Monk had hitherto pursued, entertained the most confi- dent hoj)es of his loyal service. On this General Monk cither laid aside the THE RLSTOIiATION. 329 mask which he had always worn, or formed a determination upon what had hitherto been un- decided in his own mind. He accepted of the high oflers tendered to him by the young- Prince ; and, from that moment, if not earher, made the interest of Charles tlie principal ob- ject of his thoughts. It has been indeed stated, that he had expressed his ultimate purpose of serving Charles, before leaving Scotland ; but whatever may have been his secret intentions, it seems improbable that he made any one his confidant. At the meeting of the new Parliament, the House of Peers, which regained under this new aspect of things the privileges which Cromwell had suspended, again assumed their rank as a branch of the legislature. As the Royalists and Presbyterians concurred in the same purpose of restoring the King, and pos- sessed the most triumphant majority, if not the whole votes, in the new House of Commons, the Parliament had only to be informed that Grenville awaited without, bearing letters from King Charles, v/hen he was welcomed into the House with shouts and rejoicings ; and the British constitution, by King, Lords, and Com- mons, after having been suspended for twenty years, was restored at once and by acclamation. Charles Stewart, instead of being a banished pretender, whose name it was dangerous to pronounce, and whose cause it was death to espouse, became at once a lawful, beloved, al- most adored prince, whose absence vras mourn- ed by the people, as they might have bemoan- 28* 330 THE RESTORATION. e J thctt of the sun itself ; and numbers of the great or ambitious hurried to Holland, where Charles now was, some to plead former ser- vices, some to excuse ancient delinquencies, some to allege the merit of having staked their lives in the King's cause, others to enrich the Monarch, by sharing with him the spoils which they had gained by fighting against him. It has been said by historians, that this pre- cipitate and general haste in restoring Charles to the throne, witlrout any conditions for the future, was throwing away all the advantage which the nation might have derived from the Civil Wars, and tliat it would have been much better to have readmitted the King upon a so- lemn treaty, which should have adjusted the prerogative of the Crown, and the rights of the subject, and settled for ever those great nation- al questions whicli had been disputed between Charles the first and his Parliament. This sounds all well in theory ; but in practice there are many things, and perhaps the Resto- ration is one of them, which may be executed easily and safely, if the work is commenced and carried through in the enthusiasm of a fa- vourable moment, but are likely enough to miscarry, if jirotracted beyond that happy con- juncture. The ardour in favour of monarchy, with which the mass of the English nation was at this time agitated, might probably have abated during such a lengthened treaty, providing for all tlie (Irlicate qncslions resjirrting the settle- ment of the Church and Slate, and involving ^ THE RESTORATION. 331 necessarily a renewal of all the discussions whiich had occasioned the Civil War. And supposing that the old discord was not re- kindled by raking among its ashes, still it should be remembered that great part of Cromwell's army were not yet dissolved, and that even Monk's troops were not altogether to be con- fided in. So that the least appearance of dis- union, such as the discussions of the proposed treaty were certain to give rise to, might have afforded these warlike enthusiasts a pretext for again assembling together, and reinstating the military despotism, which they were pleased to term the Reign of the Saints. A circumstance occurred which showed how very pressing this danger was, and how little wisdom there would have been in postponing the restoration of a legal government to the event of a treaty. Lambert, who had been lodg- ed in the Tower as a dangerous person, made his escape from that state prison, fled to Daven- try, and began to assemble forces. The activity of Colonel Ingoldsby, who had been, like Lambert, himself an officer under Cromwell, but was now firmly attached to Monk, stifled a spark which might have raised a mighty conflagration. He succeeded in gain- ing over and dispersing the troops who had as- sembled under Lambert, and making his former commander prisoner with his own hand, brought him back in safety to his old quarters in the Tower of London. But as the roads were filled with soldiers of the old CromwelUan army, has- tening to join Lambert, it was clear that only 332 THE RESTORATION. the immediate suppression of his force, and the capture of his person, prevented the renew^al of general hostilities. In so delicate a state of affairs, it was of im- portance that the Restoration, being the mea- sure to which all wise men looked as the only- radical cure for the distresses and disorders of the kingdom, should be executed hastily, leav- ing it in future to the mutual prudence of the King and his subjects to avoid the renewal of those points of quarrel which had given rise to the Civil War of 1641 ; since which time, both Royalists and Parliamentarians had suffered such extreme misery as was likely to make them very cautious how the one made unjust attempts to extend the power of the Crown, or the other to resist it while within its constitu- tional limits. The King landed at Dover on 29th May, 1660, and wa,s received by General Monk, now gratified and honoured with the dukedom of Albemarle, the Order of the Garter, and the command of the army. With the King came his two brothers, James Duke of York, of Avhom we shall have much to say, and the Duke of Gloucester, who died early. They were re- ceived with such extravagant shouts of wel- come, that the King said to tliose around him, " It must surely have been our own fault, that we have been so long absent from a country where every one seems so glad to see us." END OF VOL. I. I f^ 3 1 58 01175 6953 B 000 002 331 7 SI ;t:^^- If ^r. >l'i^ H- a