*'>^;^5>»'>(9 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 The Earl of Montrose at the Court of Charles I. — Page i. 
 
 3
 
 THE FIERY CROSS; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE VOIV OF MONTROSE. 
 
 By BARBARA HUTTON 
 
 (Mrs. ALEXANDER), 
 
 AtTTKOR OF ' CASTLES AND THEIR HEROES,' ' TALES OF THE WHITE COCKADE,' 
 'heroes of the CRUSADES,' 'TALES OF THE SARACENS,' ETC. 
 
 'Oh never shall we know again 
 
 A heart so stout and true ; 
 The olden times have passed away. 
 And weary are the new.' — Aytoun. 
 
 EUustrations bg Sofjn Eabson, 
 
 E. P. DUTTOx\ & CO., 
 
 39 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET. 
 
 LONDON : GRIFFITH AND FARRAN, ST. PAUL's CHURCHYARD.
 
 ' N 
 
 
 ^vTT^*^ 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THINK no apology need be offered for 
 introducing to young readers the well- 
 known but ever new story of the life, 
 battles, and cruel death of the great Marquis of 
 Montrose. 
 
 He shines in the history of the time, pre-emi- 
 nent for chivalrous loyalty and brilliant qualities ; 
 and it was well said of him by one of his con- 
 temporaries, a French cardinal, ' that he had never 
 known another man so nearly approaching the . 
 description given by Plutarch of the heroes of old.' 
 
 No nation has surpassed the Scots in examples 
 of heroic military qualities ; and not even the ad- 
 ventures of ' bonnie Prince Charlie ' thrill us more 
 than the history of Montrose, who was alike the 
 hero and the victim of the dissensions of his period. 
 
 ^:P^-hP.R^
 
 IV Preface. 
 
 In the present prosaic age, when we are apt, in 
 a laudable admiration for great inventive genius, to 
 hide the romantic side of life, it may not be unin- 
 structive to the rising generation, that they should 
 also read of the disinterested motives and high aims 
 of the Great Cavalier of the seventeenth century, — 
 a man who for honour's sake staked life and fortune, 
 and, in his own words, — 
 
 ' put it to the touch 
 
 To gain, or lose it all ! ' 
 
 B. H. 
 
 Richmond Hill.
 
 v: 
 
 THE FIERY CROSS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 'Though Caesar's paragon I cannot be, 
 Yet shall I soar in thought as high as he I' 
 
 HO is he?' inquired many a pretty pair 
 of rosy lips, one day in the Palace of 
 Whitehall, as a young and noble-looking 
 cavalier entered and took his place among the 
 courtiers, awaiting the arrival of the King. 
 
 The curiosity of the Court ladies was soon satis- 
 fied; for just then, the King himself was announced. 
 As Charles, wearing his sad, dignified look, with 
 which his portrait by Velasquez has familiarized 
 us, entered the audience-chamber, the stranger was 
 formally presented. 
 
 As he advanced towards the monarch, the ladies
 
 ^ The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 were enabled to gaze upon the young gallant. They 
 saw that his figure was good, and, moreover, that it 
 was well set off, after the fashion of the day, by a 
 richly-embroidered doublet with wide sleeves, falling 
 collar, and lace ruffles ; and that his glossy brown 
 hair flowed loosely over his well-shapen shoulders. 
 They noted, too, that his garments had a slightly 
 foreign cut ; and that his velvets and laces were of 
 more than ordinary costliness. As he bent his head 
 before the King, his handsome face beamed brightly ; 
 and the ladies all observed that his penetrating grey 
 eyes, beneath a fair broad forehead, showed his clear 
 complexion to great advantage. The courtiers 
 murmured with admiration as the gallant walked 
 along the room. But their admiration quickly 
 abated when they saw Charles's reception of the 
 cavalier. The King merely gave him his hand to 
 kiss, and with marked coldness, and without uttering 
 a word, passed on. 
 
 A deep crimson flush overspreading the young 
 man's face, testified to the mortification he felt at his 
 reception ; but he soon recovered his composure, and 
 drawing himself proudly up, retired into the back- 
 ground. 
 
 It was James Graham, fifth Earl of Montrose, 
 whom Charles the First had thus slighted. 
 
 Montrose had just returned from France and
 
 71ie Vow of Montrose. 3 
 
 Italy. A more accomplished nobleman had seldom 
 presented himself at the English Court. 
 
 As Charles was generally accustomed to graciously 
 receive noble youths such as Montrose, his courtiers 
 were astonished to see him thus rebuff the Earl ; 
 but the King had the failing of all the Stuarts — he 
 was influenced by favourites. The Marquis of 
 Hamilton, afraid of the introduction of so accom- 
 plished a man as Montrose, had, from the first 
 moment of his arrival in England, intrigued against 
 him. He represented to the King the danger of the 
 young Earl's popularity in Scotland, and so wrought 
 on Charles's weakness as to make him believe that 
 Montrose might prove a dangerous rival in that 
 kingdom, then much disturbed by the Covenanters. 
 
 It is easy to sow dissension and mistrust between 
 two generous natures, when the insinuations of the 
 mischief-maker are based on an accurate knowledge 
 of character. Hamilton knew that the Kine was 
 weak, and Montrose was not hasty. He had pre- 
 viously said all that he could to set Montrose against 
 Charles ; and therefore when he was thus publicly 
 slighted, the Earl left Whitehall, secretly determined 
 to retire to Scotland, and not again present himself 
 at Court. 
 
 Montrose was at that time just twenty-four years 
 of age. True, there were grave defects in his cha-
 
 4 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 racter ; but in his romantic life we shall find many 
 traits of greatness and heroism. In the first place, 
 his youth was a well-spent one, and not idle. His 
 family honours had descended to him when but a 
 mere lad ; and a long line of brave soldiers before 
 him, had bequeathed to the boy, who in 1616 suc- 
 ceeded his father, an hereditary attachment to the 
 house of Stuart. 
 
 His youth was passed under the care of his 
 brother-in-law, Lord Napier, who had married one 
 of Montrose's fair sisters. This clever and accom- 
 plished nobleman treated the young Earl as a 
 son. The natural bent of the lad's mind to study 
 and research, was carefully cultivated under his 
 guardian's roof Very little is known of the Earl's 
 boyhood, except that it was passed under Napier's 
 care ; but he must have married young, as he was a 
 husband before he started on his travels. His wife 
 was Lady Magdalene Carnegy, daughter of the first 
 Earl of Southesk. Two sons were born to the pair 
 before the Earl was twenty-one years of age. Of 
 his wife, too, there is little to tell. It is believed 
 that she died soon after her younger son was born, in 
 1653. Montrose had not been present at the King's 
 coronation, for he was then in France in command 
 of the Scottish Guard. This renowned corps of 
 volunteers were taken over to France to assist Louis
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 5 
 
 the Thirteenth in his war against Austria. It was 
 composed 'of the bravest company of men that ever' 
 were seen in France, all of them gallant young 
 gentlemen, well appointed.' 
 
 The time that the young Earl served with the 
 Scotch gens d'armes is not known, neither is it 
 certain that he saw service in France ; but while 
 on his travels, he carefully cultivated all the arts 
 that could advance him in a military career. Till 
 rebuffed by the King, he had longed with all the 
 enthusiasm of his age to support Charles's cause ; 
 but the King's reception of him damped his 
 ardour. 
 
 Montrose retired to his native land. His return 
 caused much excitement, because it was at first not 
 known which faction he would favour ; and his 
 ability and talent would be valuable to either. The 
 Earl sided with the Covenanters, against the King. 
 
 The title of Covenanter was the badge of a party. 
 Charles the First, with indiscreet zeal, had tried to 
 force the English form of liturgy and Episcopacy on 
 the Scottish Presbyterians. 
 
 Enraged at this attempt, those who belonged to 
 that party drew up a protest, which they named ' The 
 Covenant.' The document bound all who signed it 
 to resist any religious changes and innovations. 
 
 There is nothing that will so easily lead men into
 
 6 The Fiery Cross ; or^ 
 
 bitterness as differences on points of religion. From 
 simply protesting, the Covenanters became rebellious; 
 and, inflamed by party zeal, formed themselves into 
 a large body, requiring every one throughout the 
 land to sign their * charter.' 
 
 It was in the very heat of these agitating events 
 that Montrose reappeared in his native land. In 
 that same summer of 1637, Charles's edict for en- 
 forcing the use of the English liturgy in his Scottish 
 kirks was carried out in Edinburgh. 
 
 The tumult that ensued was begun by women. 
 The fair sex expressed by knocks and blows their 
 detestation of what the Scotch call 'the Service 
 Book ; ' and not only disturbed the congregation, but 
 tried to stone the bishop as he stepped from the 
 kirk door into his carriage, and barely escaped. 
 
 Resistance to the use of the prayer-book was 
 soon universal in Edinburgh. The men were as 
 violent against it as the women ; and many clergy- 
 men, rather than obey the royal mandate, submitted 
 to the infliction of heavy fines. 
 
 Charles did a foolish thing when he tried to make 
 Calvinistic Scotland adopt Prelacy as her religious 
 system. It seems strange that Mary Stuart's grand- 
 son should have been so blind as to forget that, in 
 the eyes of her subjects, the worst sin of that hapless 
 princess was her religion.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 7 
 
 Mary's levity and foreign manners might have 
 been forgiven, but her opposition to John Knox was 
 an unpardonable crime ; for the Presbyterians con- 
 nected Prelacy with Popery. 
 
 Their hatred of Popery is very great ; and they 
 maintain that their own form of church government 
 by presbyteries, synods, and general assemblies is 
 alone conformable to Scripture. Episcopalians pre- 
 fer, on the other hand, church government by 
 bishops ; and James the First had been one of their 
 number. 
 
 That pedantic monarch detested the doctrines of 
 Calvin, and had done all that he could to enforce 
 Anglican ritual on the Scotch, but had signally 
 failed. Charles, who was what we in our day 
 should call a ' High Churchman,' foolishly tried to 
 follow in his father's footsteps ; and that course may 
 be said to be one of the reasons of his downfall. 
 The Scotch persisted in believing that Charles's 
 adviser, Laud, when he tried to make them adopt his 
 prayer-book, was aiming a blow at their national 
 independence ; and this feeling led to stirring events 
 in Scotland, in which the Marquis of Montrose was 
 destined to take a striking part. 
 
 In the first place he joined the Covenanters. This 
 act was his greatest mistake in life, and various 
 reasons have been given accounting for his taking
 
 8 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 such a step. Some historians declare that, piqued 
 by the King's marked coldness to him, the young 
 Marquis was led, by wounded vanity, to oppose his 
 policy. Such an assertion is totally inconsistent 
 with the character of Montrose, which had nothing 
 mean or petty about it ; it is only little minds who 
 give up great principles (and loyalty to his King was 
 one firmly implanted in James Graham's mind) to 
 revenge mere trifling wrongs. Others, again, main- 
 tain that the Earl was persuaded to join the 
 Covenanters, by a nobleman, — one of the chief pro- 
 moters of the scheme, — the Earl of Rothes. 
 
 This nobleman has been called the founder of the 
 Covenant. He was much slighted by Charles, who 
 never noticed him at Court, from his resentment at 
 the course that Rothes had adopted from the be- 
 ginning of his reii^n, of opposition to the King's 
 Scottish policy. 
 
 The friends of Charles the First declare that he 
 intended, in the first instance, to benefit Scotland. 
 Scotland had its Parliament, although its King had 
 left that kingdom to reign over another land. It was 
 an assembly that was very obsequious to Charles, till 
 he incurred the displeasure of its three estates by 
 endeavouring to perform an act of justice — namely, 
 to recover the tithes of the Church from a number 
 of grasping noblemen, who had appropriated most of
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 9 
 
 the ecclesiastical revenues to their own use at the 
 Reformation. 
 
 This design was, it may be said, the beginning of 
 troubles for the Stuarts ; for, though many of his 
 loyal subjects in Scotland hailed this endeavour to 
 endow the clergy as a great boon, those noblemen, 
 who were to suffer by the revocation of tithes, were 
 mortally affronted, and, through their influence, the 
 proposal was vehemently opposed. 
 
 The principal appropriation of Church tithes took 
 place during James the Sixth's minority, after the 
 Reformation, and was connived at by the Regent 
 Murray. The poor peasant, obliged to pay a tenth 
 to the rich baron of the territory from whom he 
 held land, was often so oppressed by the nobles 
 that he would rebel against the payment, and, rather 
 than submit to it, would leave the whole of his crops 
 ungathered and neglected, to the great detriment of 
 the country. 
 
 Then, again, the stipend left for the maintenance 
 of the clergy was miserably small, and all means of 
 educating the poorer classes at a stand-still. Scot- 
 land at that time was far. behind England in civilisa- 
 tion, although in many ways the character of the 
 nation was as great as that of the English. 
 
 In spite of the absence of their hereditary sove- 
 reigns, the Scotch were still faithful and true ; al-
 
 I o The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 though, when instigated by their nobles, who were 
 rebellious for their own ends, they often became tur- 
 bulent and ungovernable. The Highlanders were a 
 totally diiTerent race to the Lowlanders, and far more 
 loyal than the men of the plains, who were also in- 
 clined to oppose Charles the First, from their heredi- 
 tary adherence to republican Knox, and their hatred 
 of Episcopacy. 
 
 Numerous measures were devised by Charles and 
 his advisers for the revocation of the tithes. Charles 
 sent commissioners into Scotland, but was com- 
 pelled to treat with the titheholders in 1630, who, 
 although the King granted them many privileges, 
 were much dissatisfied. When he went on a royal 
 progress to Scotland (although joyfully welcomed 
 by many), several noblemen met their monarch 
 with great coldness, and actually intrigued against 
 him. 
 
 Every measure proposed by the King in the Scot- 
 tish Parliament met with opposition by a certain 
 party. Those who thwarted the King became the 
 principal promoters of the Covenant later on, and 
 threw off their disguised loyalty as soon as Charles 
 the First, not wise enough to hide his displeasure 
 from those who offended him, returned to England. 
 The Earl of Rothes was one to whom the King 
 showed great coldness. Lord Balmerino was tried
 
 The Vozu of Montrose. ii 
 
 and condemned to death ; but his trial, for drawing 
 up a seditious petition of a treasonable character, 
 ended in a triumph for the democratic party in Scot- 
 land, for he was found guilty by only one vote. 
 Charles the First pardoned him, and his sentence was 
 not carried out ; but the trial did the royal cause 
 great harm, and prepared the way for those who 
 wished to make the introduction into Scotland of 
 Anglican ritual a pretext for rebellion against the 
 King. Montrose had been brought up in Lord 
 Napier's house with an especial dread and horror 
 of Popery, and therefore looked jealously on all 
 measures introduced by Laud as tending to revive 
 what has been, and ever will be, detested in Eng- 
 land — priestcraft. 
 
 Lord Napier kept aloof from all factions ; but, 
 long before the Balmerino trial, had seen how fatally 
 reliant Charles the First was on the uncompromising 
 counsellors, by whose advice he later thrust a dis- 
 tasteful liturgy on his Scotch subjects. 
 
 The Earl of Rothes having persuaded Montrose 
 that the King was bent on turning Scotland into a 
 mere province of England, by taking away her in- 
 dependence, allowed himself to be selected one of 
 four noblemen to represent the lesser barons of Scot- 
 land, when inflamed against Charles. The revolu- 
 tionary party formed themselves into a committee,
 
 12 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 which became eventually the government de facto 
 of the kingdom. 
 
 Charles, finding that his ill-advised attempt to 
 introduce the prayer - book into Scotland had 
 virtually failed, determined to send a royal com- 
 missioner to Edinburgh, to represent himself, and 
 try and revive that ancient loyalty to his crown that 
 the attempt to introduce Prelacy had so rudely 
 shaken in the Lowlands of Scotland. 
 
 The person selected for this difficult post was the 
 Marquis of Hamilton, the favourite who had per- 
 suaded the King to receive Montrose so coldly when 
 he visited Whitehall. 
 
 The Marquis's reception was enthusiastic, as he 
 proceeded to Holyrood in his viceregal character, 
 although those noblemen who had signed the Cove- 
 nant declined to meet him. The Marquis pretended 
 to sympathize deeply with the alleged grievances 
 of the Covenanters ; but Rothes, Montrose, and 
 Loudon soon found out that he had no real instruc- 
 tions from Charles to meet their wishes ; though 
 such was the craft of the man, he tried to make 
 them believe he would represent all their grievances 
 fairly to the King. 
 
 The Marquis then returned to England, and Mon- 
 trose was charged to try and persuade the men of 
 the north to join the Covenanting party by the time
 
 The Vow of Montrose, 13 
 
 the Marquis should return to Scotland, in order to 
 present a unanimous front to the King in repre- 
 senting the repugnance of the nation to the con- 
 templated changes. 
 
 The Marquis made two journeys to England to 
 see his royal master before any compromise was 
 agreed on with the antagonistical Covenanters. In 
 the meantime, Montrose had tried but failed to 
 induce the inhabitants of Aberdeen to join them. 
 
 That city still held out, and adhered to its alle- 
 giance to the Church as governed by bishops, and 
 rejected all Montrose's overtures. 
 
 At last the Marquis of Hamilton returned again 
 from the south, charged with a proposal from the 
 King that would have been amply sufficient to meet 
 all difficulties, and which tacitly amounted to a with- 
 drawal of all that had offended his Scottish subjects, 
 had the Covenanters really intended only the good 
 of their country. 
 
 Montrose, acting as their tool, presented a pro- 
 testation from the malcontents, refusing all terms, 
 although in his heart the young Earl by no means 
 shared the opinion of the bigoted noblemen, who 
 believed that Episcopacy was an actual sin ; but 
 while rebelling against Charles, believed that he was 
 compelled to do so to save his country. 
 
 The Marquis of Hamilton's mother was a Cove-
 
 14 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 nanter, and his own predilections were by some 
 thought to favour her party ; but his character was 
 a puzzle to all ; for, while writing against the 
 Covenant to Charles, he managed to impress many of 
 the disaffected noblemen with a belief in the good 
 faith with which he listened to their grievances. 
 
 In all these dissensions, Montrose's name figures as 
 taking a leading part. He was probably ignorant of 
 the real designs of the leaders of his party, who at 
 length, after demanding a national assembly, threw 
 off the mask, and declared war openly against the 
 King. This was in 1638 ; and Lord Lorn, afterwards 
 famous as the Duke of Argyle, placed himself at the 
 head of the government. 
 
 The act of this rebel — for such he really was ; 
 because, however indiscreet King Charles had been, 
 there was no excuse for the Covenanters taking up 
 arms against his government — was (as soon as 
 Hamilton had returned to England) to abolish 
 certain bishoprics, and to pronounce a solemn sen- 
 tence of excommunication against them, which he 
 and his colleagues ordered every clergyman to read 
 out in his kirk, on pain of incurring the censure of 
 the presbyteries and synods. Long before the out- 
 break of civil war the Covenanters had been prepar- 
 ing for the struggle. They purchased and laid in 
 military stores, — chiefly bought in Holland and
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 15 
 
 Germany, — and drilled their followers to the use of 
 the pike and other warlike weapons. They also sent 
 trusty agents abroad to offer commissions to num- 
 bers of gentlemen, who, by way of improving their 
 fortunes, had been fighting in the service of foreign 
 princes. 
 
 Among the number attracted by the call, was a 
 very brave and clever officer named Alexander 
 Leslie, who had seen much foreign service, and 
 attained the rank of field-marshal in the Swedish 
 army. 
 
 The self-constituted Scottish government dis- 
 missed a great many clergymen for not signing the 
 Covenant ; and most of the leaders of the party 
 declared themselves in favour of completely uproot- 
 ing Episcopacy from the Scottish constitution by 
 violent measures. 
 
 While the Covenanters were thus, under the dis- 
 guise of religious zeal, planning revolutionary 
 schemes, Charles had made the Marquis of Huntly 
 lieutenant of the north of Scotland, although Hamil- 
 ton, whose double dealing was now very apparent, 
 did all he could to prevent his success, by withholding 
 supplies both of men and money from the Marquis. 
 Aberdeen remained faithful both to the Church and 
 crown, and the Marquis of Huntly made that royal 
 burgh his chief headquarters. The Highlanders and
 
 1 6 The Fiery Cross; or^ 
 
 the north also remained true to Charles ; and the 
 Covenanting nobles therefore turned their attention 
 to crush any loyal efforts in that direction, before 
 reinforcements could reach Huntly from England. 
 
 Montrose was selected for this service. 
 
 There is no doubt but that Montrose at this time 
 was heart and soul in the cause of his Covenanting 
 friends. He set off early in March, 1639, for his own 
 home, accompanied by one who was afterwards his 
 bitterest foe, the Duke of Argyle, as well as Alex- 
 ander Leslie, under whose orders trained bodies of 
 both foot and cavalry were raised, to be ready to 
 follow General Montrose to meet the King's lieu- 
 tenant, the gallant Marquis of Huntly. 
 
 That nobleman well knew the weakness of the 
 undisciplined troops, whom, in face of Leslie's war- 
 like preparations, he had hastily raised from among 
 the clans that were loyal to the King's cause. 
 
 He was daily expecting tidings from Charles ; but 
 knowing the weakness of his army (only numbering 
 about two thousand foot and horse) compared to the 
 strength of the Covenanters, Huntly determined to 
 try and gain time by entering into negotiations 
 with Montrose. 
 
 Montrose's home was on the river Southesk, where 
 Huntly's envoys found him surrounded by a well- 
 prepared army, and accompanied by Lord Carnegy,
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 1 7 
 
 Lord Elcho, and Field-Marshal Leslie (so dignified 
 by the Swedish King), and several other noblemen. 
 
 As they drew near Montrose, they passed Mon- 
 trose's army. 
 
 The excellent order that the deputation noted as 
 they passed along among the pikesmen and swords- 
 men, made them only the more anxious to come to 
 terms. 
 
 They looked uneasily at each other, as they noted 
 the martial bearing of those determined men, all of 
 whom wore blue scarfs across their breasts, or blue 
 ribbons in their bonnets. 
 
 Those blue ribbons were called 'Montrose's 
 whimsies.' In opposition to the 'whimsies,' Huntly's 
 troops wore red ribbons, in token of their fidelity to 
 the King. 
 
 Huntly's messengers went sadly back to Aber- 
 deen. They had met with no success in their 
 mission. When they got back to their ancient 
 burgh, they learned, to their great surprise, that 
 during their absence, after disbanding a great many 
 of his soldiers, the Marquis of Huntly had retired to 
 a place called Strabogie. 
 
 His departure opened the road peaceably to 
 Montrose. The citizens of Aberdeen were overawed 
 when they saw the gallant general of the Cove- 
 nanters enter their burgh at the head of a well-dis-
 
 1 8 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 ciplined body of men, preceded by a blue sill:en 
 banner, on which they read the motto — 
 
 ' For Religion, the Covenant, and the Countrie.' 
 
 They were compelled to pay a fine, and to submit 
 to the suspension of all public worship according to 
 Episcopal form throughout the city. The citizens 
 of Aberdeen felt themselves in a hard plight. They 
 had stoutly resisted the Covenant, and most of them 
 were Charles's loyal subjects. Some among them, 
 , rather than sign the hated Covenant, even fled by 
 sea to join the King, who at that time was as much 
 plagued by the Puritans in England as he was by 
 the Covenanters in Scotland. But when the citizens 
 found themselves deserted by Huntly, their bishop 
 fled, and Montrose in the city, they felt obliged to 
 do all they could to save the town and their own 
 homes by receiving the enemy without bloodshed. 
 
 Making the Earl of Kinghorn governor of Aber- 
 deen, Montrose soon marched off again. He went 
 towards Inverary, hearing that Huntly had en- 
 camped there. 
 
 The King's northern lieutenant, like the citizens of 
 Aberdeen, felt himself deserted ; for he received no 
 answers from England to his numerous appeals for 
 aid ; while on every side he heard of the success of 
 the Covenanters.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 1 9 
 
 At last, despairing of receiving aid in time to 
 defeat Montrose, Huntly proposed a personal inter- 
 view between himself and the Covenanters, to dis- 
 cuss their differences. 
 
 Two interviews took place between Huntly and 
 Montrose, each accompanied to the rendezvous by 
 eleven of their friends, unarmed. 
 
 Feeling acutely the helplessness of his position as 
 long as he was unsupported by England, Huntly 
 was induced to sign a paper in favour of ' the liberties 
 of Scotland.' He also consented to return with 
 Montrose to the Covenanters' camp, to sign another 
 paper, embodying the stipulations agreed on between 
 them. Huntly went, relying on the Earl's word 
 that he should be free to return. 
 
 Although treated most courteously by his enemies, 
 Lord Huntly felt uneasy, when, foremost among 
 Montrose's supporters, he saw his personal foes, the 
 Forbeses and the Erasers. He began to fear be- 
 trayal ; but as soon as the deed was signed, he was 
 allowed to return unmolested. 
 
 Shame to the wearers of ' the broom and the yew,' 
 the Forbeses and Erasers, who sport those moun- 
 tain emblems as badges of their clan, the gallant 
 Huntly had scarcely quitted their camp, when they 
 reproached Montrose with allowing him to escape. 
 Lords Murray and Seaforth, and the Master of
 
 20 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 Lovat, all chimed in, and intrigued to lay a trap for 
 Huntly, by inviting him to another interview. 
 
 The gallant Gordon consented to another inter- 
 view. He did not doubt Montrose's word, but he 
 had soon great reason to regret his misplaced con- 
 fidence. This passage in Montrose's history is but 
 little to his credit, for it was beneath his noble 
 nature, even in intention, to break a promise. 
 
 Huntly being once more in the Covenanters' 
 power, they determined not to let him go. A 
 strict watch was kept over his lodgings; and when 
 at length, his eyes being opened, Huntly indig- 
 nantly demanded back the paper he had signed, 
 he exclaimed, as he turned to Montrose, * Am I to 
 accompany you south' — the Earl had told him 
 that he expected him to return to Edinburgh with 
 him — 'voluntarily, or as your prisoner.-'' 
 
 ' You can make your choice,' said Montrose. 
 
 ' Then I will go willingly, and not as a prisoner,' 
 replied Huntly. 
 
 Whatever reluctance Montrose may have felt to 
 such a treacherous act, the Marquis and his eldest 
 son were carried off a fortnight later (April 1639), 
 when the Covenanters, leaving the Forbeses and 
 Erasers to guard the north, returned to Edinburgh. 
 
 In the meantime, King Charles, although dis- 
 tracted by troubles in Edinburgh, had at length
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 21 
 
 awakened to the knowledge that help must be sent 
 to those gallant Highlanders still faithful to his 
 crown. The Gordons were also wild to revenge the 
 perfidy with which Huntly had been taken. In an 
 encounter between the loyal northern barons and the 
 Forbeses, the former came off victorious ; and just 
 as the Covenanters, dismayed at the check they had 
 received, were consulting what was best to be done, 
 they were startled to find a fleet of twenty-nine of 
 the King's ships in the Firth, bringing Hamilton 
 back again as general of the forces. 
 
 Once more Montrose, at the head of an army of 
 four thousand men, returned to Aberdeen, charged 
 to attack the loyal barons. He spared the town 
 again, and endeavoured (but ineffectually) to besiege 
 Sir George Gordon of Gight's house, but was 
 thwarted in his design of taking it by its owner's 
 promptness in fortifying it securely before his ap- 
 proach. 
 
 Forced to retreat to Aberdeen, Montrose acrain 
 marched his forces southwards in good order, before 
 Lord Aboyne (who, although a mere lad of nine- 
 teen, had been sent to Scotland to take Huntly's 
 post, and had anchored off Aberdeen) had had time 
 to land. Aboyne waited to disembark with the 
 King's troops, in hopes of some further reinforce- 
 ments that Hamilton had led him to suppose would
 
 2 2 The F{e7'y Cross ; <?;', 
 
 eagerly join him. Not only did none press forward 
 to the assistance of Charles's lieutenant in the north, 
 but the Earl of Tullibardine and a chieftain named 
 Glencairn abandoned him when they saw how small 
 a number of adherents flocked round the royal 
 banner. Montrose met and defeated Aboyne, after 
 deeds of great valour on both sides ; and Aberdeen 
 would probably have been entirely destroyed, out of 
 revenge for the loyal assistance it had rendered the 
 King's party, had not Montrose, almost at the very 
 hour in which he contemplated ordering it to be 
 burnt, received the joyful news that between Charles 
 and his rebellious subjects a treaty of peace had 
 been concluded. 
 
 This agreement is called in history the Treaty of 
 Berwick. 
 
 Tormented by the Puritans in England, and 
 harassed by the want of money, Charles had with 
 great difficulty raised an army to march against his 
 northern subjects. 
 
 The Covenanters, under the Earl of Argyle, had 
 seized many of the King's castles. They had forti- 
 fied Leith, while Montrose, as we know, had 
 organized an attack on the faithful Highlands. 
 
 The dread of Episcopacy was strong throughout 
 Scotland ; but even among the Covenanters many a 
 heart beat true and loyally to the unhappy Charles,
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 23 
 
 now arrived with his army on the borders, just as 
 Montrose had entered Aberdeen, Of this party 
 was our hero's early friend, Lord Napier. He sug- 
 gested that a commission should be formed to treat 
 with Charles ; and his advice was followed. 
 
 The King agreed to receive Rothes, and four of 
 his Covenanting associates of influence at his camp. 
 The interview took place in Lord Arundel's tent. 
 After much debate upon the grievances of his party, 
 Rothes and the King concluded their conference by 
 drawing up a written agreement, which both signed. 
 
 The Covenanters agreed to deliver into the King's 
 hands all the castles and fortresses that they had 
 seized. Their troops were to be disbanded, and 
 Huntly and other prisoners to be set free. The 
 King, on the other hand, agreed to certain important 
 concessions, such as a General Assembly to de- 
 liberate on the articles of pacification ; and so peace 
 was to be made between the rival factions. 
 
 The Marquis of Huntly and his son Lord Gor- 
 don, who had been imprisoned in Edinburgh, were 
 set at liberty, and repaired to the King's camp. 
 
 The General Assembly, which was to have been 
 followed by a Parliament, was convened, and Charles 
 fulfilled all the promises that he had made to the 
 Scots as faithfully as lay in his power. They, on 
 their side, did all they could to evade compliance
 
 24 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 with such articles of the treaty as were repugnant to 
 their republican spirit. Montrose disbanded his 
 troops ; but the fact that the hearts of the Presby- 
 terians were far from loyal, received further proofs 
 as Charles's representatives drove through Edin- 
 burgh. Women, always foremost in everything of a 
 religious character,' threw stones at their coach, and 
 incited quite a tumult when the youthful Aboyne 
 drove through their city. 
 
 Most unfortunately for himself, Charles placed 
 full confidence in Hamilton. 
 
 We all know what it is to lean on the advice of a 
 friend in whose honour and truth we fully rely ; but 
 rarely indeed may a king indulge safely in private 
 friendships. The inequality of rank is sure to 
 lead to favouritism. Hamilton pretended to enter 
 zealously into the King's schemes ; but he was at 
 heart a traitor, for he was in secret treaty with the 
 Covenanters. 
 
 Charles soon grew disgusted with his Scottish 
 subjects. The chief nobles, whom he invited to his 
 camp, refused, on the most frivolous pretences, to 
 obey his summons ; and the King saw his royal 
 proclamations, forbidding public meetings for the 
 purposes of religious agitation, scornfully disregarded 
 by the leaders of the Covenant. 
 
 The Earl of Montrose was among the number, who
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 25 
 
 reluctantly presented himself before his sovereign. 
 They had not met since Charles, instigated by the 
 crafty Hamilton, had so coldly slighted him at 
 Whitehall. 
 
 The young nobleman, too honest for the party 
 that looked upon Argyle as their leader, was be- 
 ginning to distrust his associates. His interview with 
 Charles impressed him powerfully. Did any pre- 
 sentiment cross the young Earl's mind, as he gazed 
 on the troubled brow of his unhappy King, that the 
 time would come when he should breathe a vow in 
 Charles's name, and mount the scaffold rather than 
 break it } 
 
 Disgusted and annoyed, the King, instead of 
 opening the Scottish Parliament in person, returned 
 hastily to England ; and Montrose — the memory of 
 his sovereign's stately presence and gracious bearing 
 still fresh in his mind — returned to Edinburgh. 
 
 The General Assembly that met in August 1639 
 condemned Prelacy as contrary to the Bible. Not 
 content with this, the leaders of the Covenant, when 
 Parliament met, aimed at destroying the actual 
 prerogatives of the crown, by declaring that all State 
 functions should be exercised by that power. 
 
 Montrose pondered long over the p(;rplexing 
 questions of the day. He had unsheathed his sword 
 against his King, believing that the liberties of his
 
 26 The Fiery Cross; oVy 
 
 country were endangered ; but he was not prepared 
 to assent to a democratic form of government. 
 
 He had the courage to oppose the party who 
 were secretly trying to get the government of Scot- 
 land into their own hands. Its leaders began to 
 suspect Montrose. They knit their brows as they 
 heard his honest objections to their schemes ; and it 
 got bruited about that Montrose had been bribed by 
 Charles, when he saw him at Berwick. 
 
 One day, Montrose, as he left his room, picked up 
 a paper, which had evidently been purposely left on 
 its threshold. It bore four significant Latin words : 
 Indictiis armis verbis vincitiir. * Resistless in war, 
 he was vanquished by words.' 
 
 If this secret thrust was intended to dismay the 
 honest Earl, it failed in its purpose. He had joined 
 the Covenanters to oppose a policy which he deemed 
 detrimental to the freedom of the country ; but he 
 came of a race too loyal to sanction or join in 
 the democratic views of such men as Argyle and 
 others, who were beginning openly to affirm, that a 
 Parliament might act as well without as with a 
 king. 
 
 The King's commissioner, Lord Traquair, had been 
 roughly received when he went to open the Scotch 
 Parliament in the name of King Charles, who, find- 
 ing that the Covenanters were agitating against him,
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 27 
 
 ordered the session to be dissolved ; but the Cove- 
 nanters defied the royal message, and carried out 
 their own views in the name of the National As- 
 sembly. 
 
 In spite of Montrose's views being known as 
 favourable to the monarchy, he was entrusted with 
 a military command, when the Covenanters once 
 more marched a large arm.y under General Leslie 
 towards the English border. 
 
 Montrose's heart was very heavy when, suspected 
 by his colleagues, and not quite at ease with the 
 cause for which he once more donned the 'blue 
 whimsies' of the Covenant, he assumed a military 
 command. 
 
 Between himself and Argyle especially, there 
 existed mutual distrust and contempt, Argyle 
 despised the Earl's honesty of purpose ; the latter 
 felt supreme scorn of Argyle's crooked policy. 
 
 Campbell has been called as crooked in mind 
 as he was sinister in face ; for that celebrated leader 
 of the Covenanters had not been personally gifted 
 by nature. He was short of stature, red-haired, and 
 near-sighted ; yet he had brilliant talents. A great 
 writer of those times has said — 'Argyle wanted 
 nothing but honesty and courage to be an extra- 
 ordinary man.' Montrose, with his lofty bearing, 
 gentle manners, and handsome face, exhibited a
 
 28 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 great contrast to the man under whom he worked 
 for the Covenant. 
 
 In order to ingratiate himself with the fanatical 
 Presbyterian clergy, Argyle adopted the favourite 
 expressions of the Covenanters, Such hypocrisy 
 was hateful to Montrose. 
 
 Archibald Lord Lorn, later Earl and then Mar- 
 quis of Argyle, came of a lofty lineage and race. 
 We must turn to the annals of one of the most 
 interesting races in the world, the Highlanders of 
 Scotland, for his pedigree. 
 
 The Highlanders claim to be descended from the 
 Picts. The Campbells have a legend that their clan 
 are all descended from a Pictish hero, called * Diar- 
 mad of the wild boar ;' and they take a boar's head 
 as their crest. The common ancestor, however, of 
 the whole of this vast clan, who sport as their badge 
 the fir club moss, and use as their rallying cry in 
 battle the word ' Cruachan,' the name of a mountain 
 in Argyllshire, was a 'Cambel,* or 'Kambel,' who 
 had lands granted him by King Robert Bruce, one 
 Sir Colin. This Sir Colin was Robert Bruce's 
 nephew. His descendants, the 'Caileam Mor ' family, 
 became very powerful, and compelled several smaller 
 clans to adopt their name, now one of the com- 
 monest in Scotland ; but they principally rose from 
 supplanting the Macdonalds, who have the best
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 29 
 
 claim to be ranked as the most ancient clan in the 
 Highlands. That ancient race, who say that they 
 are descended from a Pict named Somerled, inter- 
 married with the Lords of Lorn. Between them and 
 the clan of the ' MacCaileam Mor' (a name given 
 to the chieftain of the Campbells, and which means 
 'Son of the great Colin') a great rivalry always 
 existed. 
 
 The Campbell clan in 171 5 was reckoned powerful 
 enough to bring 4000 men into the field ; and they 
 were as numerous in 1638, when Archibald Lord 
 Lorn placed himself at the head of the opposition 
 to Charles the First. 
 
 Charles the First had highly favoured Lord 
 Lorn. He had made him a privy councillor, and 
 fully trusted him ; yet on all accounts he had done 
 so unwisely. 
 
 He who is not true to a father, will never be true 
 to a king. Charles, though accused of favouring 
 the errors of Rome, disliked Papists. The Earl's 
 father had become a Roman Catholic, and by so 
 doing offended the King. With arbitrary power, 
 Charles ordered the old Earl to give up his family 
 estates and honours to his eldest son, to atone for 
 his change of faith. This order, so unjust according 
 to our modern notions, the noble convert submitted 
 to ; but he declared 'that he was hardly dealt with ! '
 
 30 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 As he left the King's presence, he exclahiied with 
 involuntary bitterness : 
 
 'Sire, I know that young man' — pointing to his 
 son — ' far, far better than your Majesty does. You 
 may raise him, but you will live to repent it ; he 
 is crafty, subtle, and false ; he can love no one. If 
 ever he finds he can do you mischief, he will do 
 it!' 
 
 In spite of this warning — that, later on, Charles 
 must often have remembered — the King placed the 
 false but fair-spoken Campbell in positions of trust. 
 Under the guise of patriotism and religious zeal, he 
 was as double-dealing towards Charles as he had 
 been towards his father. With such a character the 
 honest Montrose had little in common. He had 
 scarcely joined the Scottish army, when he learnt 
 Argyle was secretly scheming to become a military 
 despot over the whole of the country north of the 
 Tweed. 
 
 The Earl of Montrose, who had taken up arms 
 against Charles solely from patriotic motives, was 
 disgusted to find that the idea of dethroning him 
 was openly talked of among the Covenanting leaders. 
 As soon as his eyes were opened to their real designs, 
 Montrose hurried back to Edinburgh ; and while 
 feeling unwilling to abandon his party, yet averse to 
 such disloyalty, endeavoured to counteract Argyle's
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 31 
 
 ambitious schemes by framing a bond, and inducing 
 several noblemen to sign it. 
 
 This bond was to the effect that no act of any 
 importance was to be undertaken by any one 
 member of the party without the full knowledge of 
 all. This deed, so worded as to secure the safety of 
 the country from Argyle's views, was afterwards 
 brought forward against Montrose. When the deed 
 was signed, he rejoined the army ; but it was with 
 a heavy heart and strong misgivings. When the 
 Covenanters, on the 21st of August 1640, crossed the 
 Tweed, it was Montrose whose lot it was, singularly 
 enough, to lead the way. Newcastle was taken, after 
 a victory over the royal troops at Newburn, by the 
 Covenanters. 
 
 Just as I am leading you by my narrative to 
 understand the reasons that led Montrose to change 
 his political views, and from being a staunch Cove- 
 nanter to turn into an equally devoted royalist, I 
 must digress a little to describe the costume of the 
 period, both of civilians and soldiers ; for in those 
 days dress was a badge of political parties. 
 
 The Puritans acquired the name of Roundheads 
 from cropping their hair close to their heads. They 
 looked upon the large, square beards hitherto 
 worn by the clergy with great dislike. The Puritan 
 ministers cut their hair and their beards as short as
 
 32 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 they could, donned plain doublets, and wore Geneva 
 bands. They, however, wore large boots, for it was 
 the fashion in those days to wear shoes and boots 
 two inches too long for the wearer's feet, A Cavalier's 
 boots were not only very large, but fringed with lace, 
 sometimes as low down as his jingling spurs. 
 
 * What creature's this, with his short liairs, 
 His little band, and huge long ears ! ' 
 
 said a royalist and satirical ballad of the day. The 
 Cavaliers, on the contrary, wore their hair long, and 
 flowing in a most picturesque fashion. They adorned 
 their tall hats with ribbons and feathers. They 
 trimmed their beards to a point, and favoured love- 
 locks and moustaches ; they were gay in ornamented 
 breeches, tight vest, and rich laced shirts, with velvet 
 cloaks flung over the arm ; and, in fact, in every way 
 opposed the plainness and simplicity of the Round- 
 heads' costume. 
 
 At that time soldiers had discarded the heavy 
 cumbrous armour of previous reigns. They wore 
 back and breast-plates of mail over coats of strong 
 bufl", stout boots, and helmets. 
 
 The bowmen of old were almost extinct. Fire- 
 arms had superseded the bow and arrow ; the 
 infantry of the day were pikesmen and musketeers. 
 
 In these days of Chassepots and mitrailleuses, 
 we can scarcely imagine how the heavy musket gun
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 33 
 
 in use then could be of much service, since the 
 soldier could neither point nor fire the cumbrous 
 weapon till it was placed on an iron rest. The 
 musketeer had to fix the sharp -pointed legs of 
 the rest into the ground before he could let off 
 his gun. Four corps composed the King's cavalry. 
 There were lancers and cuirassiers. The latter bore 
 swords and pistols, and were so named from wear- 
 ing cuirasses over their buff coats. Then there 
 were dragoons and harquebussiers, so called because 
 they carried a weapon known as a harquebuss. The 
 bayonet was not introduced till much later in 
 history. 
 
 It was during the truce that followed the easy 
 capture of Newcastle by Montrose and other Scottish 
 generals, that the former wrote to his injured 
 sovereign. Although Montrose had a perfect right 
 to address Charles, there were not wanting, among 
 those who were in that irresolute monarch's confi- 
 dence, many ready to betray all that passed to the 
 Scotch, 
 
 The pretence that the Earl's letters to Charles 
 were treacherous acts towards the Covenant, served 
 Argyle's purpose well ; for he and many of his 
 colleagues had long doubted Montrose, because they 
 knew he was too honest to support their secret 
 schemes. However, when Montrose was taxed with
 
 34 The Fiery Cross ; or^ 
 
 his correspondence with the King, he avowed it so 
 openly and fearlessly, that even his worst enemies 
 could not convict him of treachery. The letters, 
 Montrose affirmed, contained merely good advice, 
 which was probably thrown avv^ay on the vacillating 
 King. 
 
 Montrose soon realized the fact that he was now 
 suspected and watched by the Covenanters. As he 
 himself expressed it to one of his friends, 'he was 
 crossed ;' he therefore, in the early part of 1641, left 
 the army and returned to Edinburgh. 
 
 The troubles of his native land at that time were 
 indeed sufficient to wring his patriotic soul wath 
 grief and anguish. His relation Lord Napier, and 
 many of Montrose's friends who shared his views, 
 often visited him, to talk about public affairs. As 
 one remedy for the evils that they all now perceived 
 had arisen from the Covenanting agitation, Lord 
 Napier implored his sovereign to visit Scotland in 
 person. The tyranny of the popular movement was 
 becoming greater and greater. The cry at first had 
 been, 'Down with the bishops,' and much of the 
 freedom we now enjoy may doubtless be traced to 
 the opposition in those troublous times to the exces- 
 sive prerogative of the Crown ; but from defence of 
 religious freedom, the Scotch had proceeded to 
 republicanism, and those who differed from them
 
 The Vow of Monh^ose. 35 
 
 were hunted down, under the cry that they were 
 'incendiaries.' None who had the ill-fortune to 
 offend the Covenanting clergy were safe in that 
 reign of terror, and honest and loyal persons were 
 often denounced from Presbyterian pulpits. 
 
 Owing to some accidental expressions let fall 
 by a dying man who, among others, had signed 
 Montrose's bond at Cumbernauld, Argyle discovered 
 the deed, and openly denounced the Earl. His 
 honesty, however, once more saved him. When 
 asked if he had indeed been instrumental in draw- 
 ing up such a document, Montrose not only openly 
 avowed his share in the transaction, but produced 
 the very bond itself, and gave it up. It was then 
 destroyed. 
 
 Finding that he was calumniated in his own neigh- 
 bourhood, Montrose determined to vindicate himself 
 by asking the clergymen on his property to meet 
 him at a conference. 
 
 He met them first at Perth and then at Scone 
 Abbey, and told them how he had drawn up the 
 bond in consequence of his discovery of Argylc's 
 ambitious schemes. 
 
 It must have been a striking moment when, later 
 on, Montrose with perfect dignity and presence of 
 mind confronted Argyle, and repeated all the ac- 
 cusations against him. The artful Argyle denied
 
 36 The Piery Cross ; or^ 
 
 the whole matter, and Montrose was arrested and 
 confined in Edinburgh Castle. 
 
 After his lodgings in Edinburgh and his house at 
 Old Montrose had been searched in vain for letters 
 or papers likely to criminate him, the Earl was 
 examined before a committee appointed by the 
 Scottish Parliament, and treated with great indignity. 
 In the midst of the persecution to which the Earl 
 was subjected, Charles arrived at Holyrood. This 
 was in August 1641. The unhappy monarch tried 
 to conciliate the hearts of the stubborn Covenanters 
 by giving away many titles and honours to the 
 leaders ; but these concessions failed to strengthen 
 his cause. Argyle himself was created a Marquis ; 
 and then the King endeavoured to serve Montrose, 
 who, after a time, was liberated, and rewarded with 
 many flattering speeches. He however, for a time, 
 retired into private life, and went to live at Old 
 Montrose. 
 
 In that retreat he could not have been unhappy, 
 because he loved study, and could fill up his leisure 
 with many refined pursuits. There, however, came 
 news of the civil wars between Charles and his 
 Parliament. His sovereign wrote truly, when he 
 said, ' Duty and loyalty were sufficient to Montrose,' 
 who heard with grief how Charles had erected 
 the royal standard at Nottingham. He watched
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 37 
 
 how, little by little, all hope of peace between the 
 rival parties drifted away, and how rebellion, on 
 the one hand, grew as the want of firmness was 
 exhibited on the other. At last Montrose joined 
 Charles, and offered to support the cause of royalty 
 in Scotland by his sword. After a time, having 
 received the King's commission, which was dated 
 the first of February 1644, as Lieutenant-General 
 of Scotland under Prince Maurice, our hero com- 
 menced that adventurous career which stamps 
 him the most gallant champion that ever fought 
 for a king. Having told you how he first became 
 and then ceased to be a Covenanter, the imme- 
 diate consequences of his change of opinion must be 
 told in another chapter. 
 
 --ffV^-
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 * He either fears his fate too much, 
 Or his deserts are small, 
 That puts it not luito the touch, 
 To win or lose it all.' 
 
 — Marquis of Montrose. 
 
 ;T was with no small difficulty that Montrose 
 had obtained Charles's consent to this 
 expedition. In 1642, wearied with a 
 contest in which he was always beaten by his 
 Parliament, Charles had resorted to arms to sub- 
 due his rebellious subjects. 
 
 The Queen, on her return from Holland, where 
 Charles had sent her for safety, had consulted Mon- 
 trose as to the state of Scotland at that time. 
 
 They met at York, and Montrose placed every 
 circumstance before her. No flatterer, the truthful 
 cavalier told her that the state of his native land 
 
 was as alarming as that of England, and that the 
 
 38
 
 The Vow of Montrose, 39 
 
 Covenanters, unless repressed, would prove as for- 
 midable as the English Puritans. 
 
 The descendant of the great Graham — * Graham 
 More ' — who defied the Romans under Severus, 
 pleaded hard that the Queen should see England's 
 danger before it was too late, if the Covenanters (as 
 Montrose thought that they would) should join the 
 English rebels. He told her, ' Force must be met 
 with force,' and that Scotland, although armed by 
 the Covenanters, yet held many a faithful stout heart, 
 ready, if needs be, to die for the King ; but that 
 delay was fatal to the royal cause. ' Scotland,' he 
 said, ' was like one suffering from some sad disease. 
 If a physician took the malady in " time," the 
 patient's life might even then be spared.* 
 
 Perhaps the earnestness with which he spoke in 
 the singleness of his purpose might have had some 
 influence with Henrietta Maria, but for the subtle 
 advice of the double-dealing Hamilton. 
 
 Under pretence of congratulating the Queen on 
 her safe return, the latter hurried back to York from 
 Scotland to interpose delays, and suggest defects in 
 Montrose's counsel. 
 
 'The Marquis,' Hamilton pleaded, 'was brave; 
 but he was young, rash, and ambitious. Let the 
 King first try gentle measures to preserve the fidelity 
 of Scotland.'
 
 40 The Fiery Cross ; or. 
 
 Once more Hamilton's influence was against Mon- 
 trose. The King and Queen were alike captivated 
 and ensnared by one who was secretly employed by 
 the Covenanters, and they would not heed Montrose's 
 tale. After telling them that the Covenanters were 
 arming a large body of men, strengthening their 
 position, and preparing to march into England, our 
 hero went sorrowfully away. The glamour of evil 
 counsel was over weak, irresolute, deluded Charles ; 
 and, till the Covenanters' army was marching eighteen 
 thousand foot and two thousand horsemen strong 
 towards the border, he still trusted in the advice of 
 Hamilton, who kept assuring him that all was still 
 peaceable and secure in the north. 
 
 When we find ourselves betrayed, we turn to the 
 nearest support we can find to aid us. In his 
 despair, King Charles remembered Montrose ; and 
 when he thought on the young Earl's stedfast, true, 
 and gallant nature, he asked his advice. 
 
 It was then, indeed, beyond Montrose's power to 
 undo the mischief worked by that fatal delay. 
 'Sire,' he said sorrowfully, 'for a twelvemonth I 
 have urged you to prevent what has now happened.' 
 
 He knew that while Scotland had provided her- 
 self with arms, men, and money, the King had 
 neither men nor money at his command ; but he did 
 not shrink from joining so failing a cause. He was
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 41 
 
 a fit descendant of the Graham More, ' Give me, 
 Sire,' he said, ' but foreign arms and any aid from 
 Ireland you can procure, and, please God, strong in 
 my cause, I will yet re-animate Scotland, and create 
 throughout that realm, and especially in the loyal 
 Highlands, a reaction in your Majesty's favour.' 
 
 Montrose's offer was accepted by Charles. For 
 even while in his heart the King mistrusted 
 Hamilton, he wavered when the latter arrived at 
 Oxford, where his Court was, and where, once more, 
 his favourite exerted his influence over his unhappy 
 master. Hamilton was accompanied into Charles's 
 presence by his brother, the Earl of Lanerick. 
 
 They pretended, with great plausibility, that they 
 had been banished from Scotland for their devotion 
 to the royal cause, and compelled to fly for their 
 lives ; the fact being, that they had wilfully deceived 
 the King, and had been all along in correspondence 
 with his enemies. 
 
 Charles, although he mistrusted them, received 
 them at Court, and allowed Lanerick to remain 
 there. Montrose's noble nature was deeply wounded 
 when he saw his master once more drawn into the 
 Hamiltons' net. 
 
 He begged Charles to allow him to retire abroad, 
 for he declared that nothing would induce him to 
 stand by and see the Hamiltons once more in
 
 42 The Fiery Cross ; or^ 
 
 favour. The King then reluctantly forbade them 
 his presence, and Montrose drew up a protest, which 
 he prevailed on a great many gallant Scotchmen to 
 sign, promising, if the Covenanters invaded England, 
 to protect the King's cause at the peril of their 
 lives. 
 
 A committee was appointed by the King to 
 ascertain the truth of the charges brought against 
 the two Hamiltons. Montrose, Nithsdale, Aboyne, 
 and Ogilvie undertook to substantiate the accusa- 
 tions brought against them, and the facts brought to 
 light induced even Charles to see how treacherously 
 both Hamilton and Lanerick had acted. The crime 
 of garbling a letter of their sovereign's to induce 
 several leading noblemen to take up arms against 
 him, the fact that Lanerick had used the privy seal 
 to a proclamation issued by the Covenanters to call 
 together the large force now marching towards the 
 border, were proved, and Hamilton was arrested by 
 the King's command and sent to the castle of Pen- 
 den n is. 
 
 Lanerick's arrest was also ordered, and he was 
 to have been imprisoned in Ludlow Castle ; but he 
 fled in disguise into Scotland, where the Presby- 
 terians received him with open arms. 
 
 No obstacles now remained in our hero's way. 
 Charles hesitated no longer, and on the first of
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 43 
 
 February 1644 gave Montrose a commission to act 
 as Lieutenant-General in Scotland of all His Majesty's 
 forces under the Captain-General, Prince Maurice ; 
 the brave Graham refusing, with the modesty of real 
 courage, to be commander-in-chief. Prince Maurice 
 was Charles's nephew ; being son of that hapless 
 Queen, Elizabeth of Bohemia, who had taken refuge 
 in England after the loss of her husband and king- 
 dom. Both he and his gallant but rash brother, 
 Rupert, fought bravely for the King, their uncle ; but 
 their eldest brother, Charles, had joined the Parlia- 
 mentary side. From their younger sister, Sophia, 
 the Electress, our present dynasty is directly de- 
 scended. 
 
 Charles engaged the Earl of Antrim to land in 
 Argyll with ten thousand men of Ulster ; but beyond 
 that, and recommending him to the Marquis of 
 Newcastle, then commanding the King's forces in 
 Durham, he could do nothing for Montrose, not even 
 by sending a handful of men with him to the border. 
 Thus almost unattended, with the royal commission 
 in his pocket and his sword by his side, Montrose 
 set off upon what seemed, but for his resistless 
 enthusiasm, one of the wildest expeditions ever 
 dreamed of by romantic youth. Scotland was, if 
 not wholly disloyal, so overawed by the Covenanters, 
 that even among those who were still true to their
 
 44 The Fiery C^^oss ; or, 
 
 King, few had the courage to resist the tide of re- 
 bellion, so steadily setting in. The Covenanters had 
 entered into a solemn league with the English rebels, 
 and had promised to render them armed assistance 
 to enable them to reduce the King to submission. 
 
 However, resolute and faithful, and even hopeful, 
 Montrose set out He still reckoned on the ancient 
 loyalty of the Highlands. In spite of their disgrace, 
 there was a large party at Court who still befriended 
 the Hamiltons, and cavilled at Montrose ; and even 
 among loyal men, his expedition was looked on as 
 too wild and romantic to succeed. He cared not, 
 however, but set off with all the high hopes of one 
 who believes that he has a mission entrusted to him, 
 that he must die rather than not perform. The 
 Earl first met the Marquis of Newcastle at Durham, 
 a county ever loyal to the King's cause, and where 
 many a true-hearted English country gentleman had 
 mortgaged his broad acres to raise men for the 
 cause. The Marquis of Newcastle received Mon- 
 trose kindly. That nobleman, who had quitted the 
 quiet tranquil country life he loved to serve Charles, 
 was one who could appreciate our hero's character. 
 
 The Marquis of Newcastle was as wise in council 
 as he was able in war, and was respected by both 
 sides. He told Montrose that his own position was 
 hazardous in the extreme, and that he had no cavalry
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 45 
 
 to spare him ; but the Earl persuaded him to give 
 him a hundred horsemen, and two field-pieces ; and 
 Newcastle promised to do all that he could for 
 Montrose when happier times should come. Those 
 fairer times, however, never came, as far as Newcastle 
 was concerned. For, after the battle of Marston Moor, 
 and the consequent surrender of York, he considered 
 himself so wronged by Prince Rupert, who would 
 not listen to the Marquis's advice, and so lost that 
 battle, that he left England in disgust, and threw up 
 his command of Charles's forces. However, that was 
 subsequent to Montrose's interview with him on his 
 road to Scotland. Newcastle sent orders to the 
 officers of all the King's forces in Cumberland and 
 Westmoreland to aid Montrose as far as they could. 
 Consequently he entered Scotland on the thirteenth 
 of April, at the head of about eleven hundred men, 
 and a gallant troop of volunteers, about two hundred 
 in number. 
 
 Most of Montrose's troops were militia ; many of 
 them raw, undisciplined, taken from the plough to 
 fight for a cause they were too ignorant to under- 
 stand. Montrose counted much o» the Earl of 
 Antrim's promised aid. 
 
 Carried away by Montrose's enthusiasm at Oxford, 
 Antrim, who, though Irish, was also descended from 
 oneof,the noblest Highland families, the Macdonalds,
 
 46 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 had been driven by the rebellious faction of his own 
 country to seek refuge in England. 
 
 Ireland then, as now, was a disaffected country. 
 Charles attempted to add to the standing army of 
 that kingdom, trusting that the Irish would help him 
 in suppressing the Covenanters ; but added to the 
 rebellion in England, he had had a very serious in- 
 surrection to contend with in Ireland, — a rebellion 
 instigated by the Roman Catholic priests, who 
 would willingly have exterminated the very name of 
 England from their language. By the first of April 
 the Earl of Antrim had engaged to land ten thousand 
 Irish on the coast of Argyll that lay nearest to 
 Ireland. 
 
 The first obstacle Montrose met with was a mutiny 
 among his north country soldiers. This was insti- 
 gated by a Sir Richard Graham ; and though the 
 Scottish soldiers who had joined Montrose did all 
 that they could to keep the band together, a great 
 many of the border men deserted the Cavaliers' 
 standard and fled towards home. This mutiny took 
 place on the banks of the Annan. Daily expecting 
 news from Antrim, who had promised to send him a 
 messenger the moment he landed, Montrose was 
 bitterly disappointed, and knew not how to proceed, 
 as day after day passed and no message came. He 
 received intelligence that the Covenanters under
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 47 
 
 Leslie were advancing on York, in order to unite 
 their numbers to the English Parliamentary army, 
 and that the Earl of Callandar (a renegade from the 
 King's cause, who had sworn that he would never 
 join the Covenanters) had raised a second army in 
 Scotland. Montrose knew they could intercept his 
 progress if he attempted to go on to Stirling, which 
 his friends strongly urged his doing at all risks. 
 
 The Scottish Cavaliers under Montrose took Dum- 
 fries, and erected the royal standard ; but the Earl 
 felt that it were to sacrifice his cherished hope of 
 doing the King good service if he risked an encounter 
 with the Covenanters, and therefore he retired to 
 Carlisle, determined to fight for the crown in the 
 north of England, until he could see some chance of 
 success for it in Scotland. 
 
 He gathered together a few more soldiers — a mere 
 handful of troops — when he and his friends returned 
 across the border, and with great gallantry took 
 Morpeth, captured a fort on the Tync, and victualled 
 Newcastle with provisions procured from Alnwick. 
 
 It took Montrose nearly three weeks to wrest 
 Morpeth Castle from the Covenanters ; but when the 
 keys of the place were given up, he treated the 
 garrison well, releasing the ten officers and a hun- 
 dred and eighty soldiers, on their giving him their 
 word never to fight again against Charles.
 
 40 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 While thus harassing the northern Covenanters, 
 Montrose, who about this time was created a Mar- 
 quis, received a hasty summons from Prince Rupert 
 to join him at York. 
 
 Long, however, before Montrose could join the 
 impetuous Prince, the latter had fought and lost the 
 battle of Marston Moor. It was not till the day 
 after the battle that Montrose came up with Rupert's 
 corps, then in full retreat. 
 
 Struck with the gallant appearance of Prince 
 Rupert's cavalry, Montrose implored the Prince to 
 give him a troop to take back into the north. 
 
 ' Give me,' cried Montrose, ' but a thousand of 
 those horsemen, and I will cut my way into the very 
 heart of Scotland.' 
 
 Prince Rupert promised to do so, but did not keep 
 his word. He was over persuaded by those who 
 only saw in Montrose an impetuous reckless soldier, 
 that the venture was not worth the risk of a thousand 
 horsemen ; and so the Marquis was told that no aid 
 could be given him. 
 
 All this time a little gallant band — the forlorn 
 hope of Scottish loyalty — still supported Montrose. 
 Two of his friends he had sent into Scotland in 
 disguise, that they might ascertain who, among 
 those not yet corrupted by Argyle's arts, would 
 support the royal cause ; but several faithful friends
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 49 
 
 still kept with him, when, leaving Prince Rupert, he 
 went back to Carlisle. 
 
 It required, however, more than even the high 
 spirit of that hitherto undaunted band to hope on in 
 face of the news brought back to Montrose by Lord 
 Ogilvie and Sir William Rollock. They listened to 
 the narrative of all that they had seen during their 
 fortnight's wanderings in Scotland, and then came 
 the whisper, that in the face of such news the Mar- 
 quis would be ' mad to proceed on his expedition.' 
 
 The Scottish Covenanters had long before this 
 obtained the boon, if it were one, for which they had 
 so long striven. They were free to practise their 
 religion. They had abolished Episcopacy, as far as 
 the State was concerned, yet with fanatical zeal still 
 hoped to establish a uniformity of worship with 
 themselves in England. 
 
 Charles they well knew was warmly attached to 
 the Episcopal form of Church government, and the 
 Covenanters dreaded lest the King by force of arms 
 should re-establish his authority, and thus interpose 
 an obstacle to the cherished idea of making England 
 as Presbyterian as Scotland. They had no charity 
 for those who could not believe the doctrines of 
 Calvin, and would not unite in denouncing all pre- 
 lates of the English Catholic Church as idolaters. 
 Papists, and 'malignants,' — a term applied to those
 
 50 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 who would not sign the Covenant. Tlie Scotch pul- 
 pits resounded with praises of such as were ready 
 to shed their blood, and take up arms against Charles 
 the First. 
 
 The teaching of these ministers of Christianity- 
 should be peace, but the Presbyterians of those days 
 thought otherwise, for they hurled malediction after 
 malediction on those few devoted men who still re- 
 mained true to ' Church and State.' 
 
 ' Rather than sanction,' cried the fanatics, ' the 
 surplice, the tippet, or the corner cap again in our 
 country, we will wade through rivers of blood to 
 gain a purer faith.' 
 
 Such a temper of mind in the Scots was most 
 acceptable to the English Puritans. They had sent 
 a hundred thousand pounds to help their allies in 
 equipping the army already advancing far into 
 England. Not only did the Scots thus support the 
 English in their rebellion, but they seized every 
 castle, town, and port they could lay hands upon in 
 Scotland, levied large armies of men, and called 
 upon all to support the Covenant. Nevertheless, 
 the Scotch as a nation were loyal at heart, and in 
 many parts openly defied the Covenanters. The 
 clergy had intimidated and misled many. Argyle, 
 ruling the Western Highlands, had disaffected his 
 clan ; the towns had succumbed to what, indeed, was
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 5 1 
 
 little short of religious mania ; but the Gordons, the 
 men of Athol, Mar, Badenoch, Lochaber, and others, 
 still believed in the Church, and were faithful to their 
 King. 
 
 Such were the tidings brought by the two 
 cavaliers sent by Montrose to ascertain who were 
 and who were not likely to support him, if he could 
 but succeed in getting into those portions of the 
 Highlands still faithful to the royal cause. 
 
 Montrose summoned all his friends to a council. 
 He knew that among the number there was one, the 
 Earl of Traquair, who, though honoured and trusted 
 by Charles, was at heart a traitor. Well did Mon- 
 trose know how, when the Cavaliers had begun to 
 waver and be cast down at the gloomy news reported 
 them, Traquair had done all he could to induce 
 those who up to that time had adhered to Mon- 
 trose to join the Covenanters. 
 
 There is no foe so insidious as a false friend. 
 Montrose would have liked to have openly de- 
 nounced Traquair as a traitor ; but he restrained his 
 anger, and met his friends calm, stedfast, and un- 
 moved. His handsome face was sad but resolute in 
 its noble expression, as he heard first one and then 
 the other advise him to abandon so hopeless a 
 cause. 
 
 Many urged him to retire abroad and send his
 
 5 2 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 commission back to the King, telling him that as 
 Antrim had failed him, he had no possible prospect 
 of success. 
 
 After hearing all that his friends could urge, our 
 hero, as undaunted and fearless as ever, declared 
 that they were free if they chose to abandon him ; 
 but ' as for me,' he continued, ' I will never despair. 
 My King is in danger, and I will never forsake him. 
 If I cannot succeed, I Avill perish ! ' 
 
 Yet in spite of the spirit with which Montrose 
 spoke, most of those who listened to him remained 
 unconvinced. It is so hard to hope against ruin 
 staring one in the face. 
 
 Most of Montrose's listeners were devoted, as 
 only Scotch people can be, to the cause of their 
 King. Many were descended from those who, on 
 the great battle-fields of Scotland, had shed their 
 blood for his ancestors ; but ' without arms, men, or 
 money,' they argued, 'how can such a desperate 
 cause succeed .'' ' 
 
 Seeing all their doubts and fears written in their 
 grave looks and downcast eyes, Charles's devoted 
 champion conceived a daring plan. He confided it 
 to only one person — his friend Lord Ogilvie. He 
 told the Cavaliers that they had perhaps some justice 
 on their side ; but that, as for him, he was de- 
 termined to trust in God, and carry out his resolu-
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 53 
 
 tion ; only, before doing so, he would lay the state 
 of the case before the King, and beg him to give 
 them aid with men and arms. 
 
 The little band, which by this time had fallen off 
 to about a hundred men, accordingly started off 
 towards Oxford, where the King still held his Court. 
 All believed that Montrose intended accompanying 
 them thence. Such, however, was far from the Mar- 
 quis's intention. Two days after they had left Car- 
 lisle, Montrose secretly slipped away, and, accom- 
 panied by only two companions, rejoined Lord 
 Aboyne. 
 
 Lord Aboyne was a Gordon, and one of Lord 
 Huntly's family, who had never quite forgiven Mon- 
 trose his want of faith to that nobleman when the 
 former was fighting for the Covenant. The Marquis 
 counted much on the loyal, brave, and trusty Gor- 
 dons, and therefore he told his plans to Aboyne. 
 Montrose, however, found him so lukewarm that he 
 ceased to urge his co-operation, and advised him to 
 remain quietly at Carlisle till he heard how the 
 scheme he had formed should succeed. 
 
 Every pass and glen in his native land was well 
 known to our hero ; but the difficulty was, how he 
 and his two friends should pass the border, along 
 which the Covenanters had placed large bodies of 
 men.
 
 54 The Fiery Cross ; or ^ 
 
 It was in the month of August that the Marquis, 
 in company with Sir William Rollock and an officer 
 named Sibbald, set off. Montrose, disguised as 
 Sibbald's groom, rode on a very miserable-looking 
 horse, leading another by the bridle. It was diffi- 
 cult, however, to disguise his natural majesty and 
 demeanour, as the result proved. They were riding 
 along when they met a man-servant of that Sir 
 Richard Graham who had instigated the mutiny of 
 the Marquis's men at Annan. The man, deceived by 
 their conversation, — for Montrose had served quite 
 long enough with the Covenanters to be able to 
 imitate their canting phraseology, — grew very 
 friendly with them. He directed them on their road, 
 supposing all the time that they were Scotchmen 
 hastening to join General Leslie, who was watching 
 that part of Scotland for Argyle's party. 
 
 He also told them that his master. Sir Richard 
 Graham, had openly declared for the Covenanters. 
 You can imagine with what feelings the three 
 travellers heard that the knight had promised to 
 give any ' malignants,' as those loyal to Charles 
 were called, up to the general for immediate execu- 
 tion. 
 
 However, such a fate was not yet intended for 
 Montrose. Their next adventure was even more 
 alarming. They met a soldier walking along, who
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 55 
 
 had served under the Marquis of Newcastle, and who 
 recognised Montrose and addressed him by name. 
 
 The Marquis turned away, and appeared not to 
 have noticed his salutation. 
 
 'My lord,' said the soldier, 'you cannot deceive 
 me. No lacquey ever rode as you do. I know my 
 Lord of Montrose well enough ; but go your way, 
 and may God bless you wherever your way may 
 lead you.' 
 
 Montrose gave the man some money, and then 
 hurried on. He knew that if he were betrayed, not 
 only would he meet with no mercy for his loyal con- 
 duct to the King, but that the Covenanters would 
 make a dangerous use of the papers he had with 
 him. Hurrying on at their utmost speed, till their 
 weary horses were almost dropping with fatigue, the 
 three travellers, after three perilous days' travelling, 
 arrived on the fourth at Tullicbclton, a large pro- 
 perty close to the Grampian Hills, in Perthshire, and 
 not far from the calm, noble river, the Tay, belong- 
 ing to Montrose's cousin, Patrick Graham of Inch- 
 brakic. Under his roof Montrose was not only safe 
 but welcome. There, however, he dared not remain 
 long, for the Covenanters had spies all over the 
 country ; and the Marquis knew that as soon as they 
 heard he was in Scotland, Inchbrakie's house would 
 be suspected of harbouring him.
 
 56 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 He therefore hid away among the hills during 
 the day-time, returning to Tulliebelton at night- 
 fall, where Patrick Graham concealed him in a 
 neighbouring hovel. His two friends, disguised as 
 ordinary clansmen, set off to learn the state of the 
 country. 
 
 They came back with a grievous tale. The 
 tyranny of the Covenanters, they reported, kept 
 the entire kingdom in a state of terror. The whole 
 authority of Scotland was then vested in an order 
 founded in 1638, that of Four Tables. These four 
 tables consisted of the nobility, gentry, clergy, and 
 burgesses. The Covenant had been, as it were, 
 their eldest child, for the first act of this new order 
 had been its production. None dared openly con- 
 demn this state of public afTairs. If they were so 
 rash, they but too often paid the penalty with their 
 lives, or property ; often being heavily fined, or im- 
 prisoned. 
 
 The Marquis eagerly inquired what course the 
 Marquis of Huntly had adopted. 
 
 He sorrowfully learnt, from their reply, how the 
 head of the gallant Gordons had laid down his 
 arms, and had fled into Caithness. The Gordons, 
 meanwhile, being left completely without a leader, 
 were greatly depressed, and the whole state of the 
 Royalists most deplorable.
 
 The Voiv of Montrose. 57 
 
 The Marquis of Huntly's son had jonied the 
 Covenanters ; so, even if the Gordons had been 
 inclined to join Montrose, they had no leader, and, 
 although as loyal as ever, were completely dispirited. 
 
 Montrose, still undaunted, hoped on. He knew 
 that in that portion of the Highlands influenced by 
 the MacCaileam Mor, the Highlanders were so over- 
 awed by Argyle, that an appeal, if made, would be 
 worse than useless ; so he determined to call upon 
 the ' Redshanks,' as certain independent clans were 
 named. 
 
 In this resolution he was strangely confirmed by 
 an incident that, to his enthusiastic mind, seemed 
 almost like a direct message from Heaven. 
 
 After the return of Sir William Rollock and 
 Sibbald from their expedition, dispirited and anxious, 
 though undaunted, Montrose wandered one day 
 over the hills and moors around Inchbrakie. At 
 last, at nightfall, he repaired to Methven wood, and 
 seating himself on a stone near the hut where he 
 intended passing the night, he gave way to a trans- 
 port of grief. 
 
 His fine figure was enveloped in a Highland 
 plaid ; and his cousin Patrick Graham watched him 
 bury his face in his hands, and heard him declare 
 that his heart was breaking to see his native land so 
 enslaved by fanatics and ambitious nobles
 
 58 The Fiery Cross ; or^ 
 
 His eyes were filled with tears, as, raising them 
 first towards heaven and then towards the moun- 
 tains, he cried with passionate earnestness — 
 
 ' Be merciful, Lord, to my country ! Remove the 
 curse under which it lies, and enable me to be the 
 unworthy means of saving it ! ' 
 
 Montrose had scarcely ejaculated these words, 
 when down a woodland path, above the mountain 
 spot where the cavaliers were seated, a red deer, 
 startled from its lair, bounded along. 
 
 Up sprang the cavaliers. Was it a traitor, they 
 thought, as they could just discern a figure descend- 
 ing the pathway. 
 
 The stranger was no traitor, but a Highlander 
 in full Gaelic garb, armed at all points. His face 
 Avas stern and pale, and he looked very weary, as 
 well he might, for he had traversed high mountains, 
 brooks, and rivers, to bear to the clans the tidings of 
 war, by means of a fiery cross, which he carried aloft 
 in his right hand. 
 
 The symbol of religion was seamed and scathed 
 at every point with fire ! It was a summons from 
 Allaster Macdonald, who had just landed in the 
 Highlands, to all the clans to follow the King's 
 lieutenant, ' under pain of fire and sword ! ' 
 
 ' What news .'* ' demanded Montrose, who believed 
 that now had come an answer to his prayer. The
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 59 
 
 answer was brief. The Highlander was carrying 
 the summons to all the loyal clansmen of Perthshire. 
 
 You remember that the Earl of Antrim, four 
 months before, had promised Montrose to bring him 
 aid from Ireland ; and how also it had seemed to 
 fail our hero. Some Highland shepherds had told 
 Montrose that they had heard of the ' Irish ' who 
 had landed in the mountains ; but he had given 
 small credence to their tale. 
 
 This, then, was the promised aid, Montrose and 
 his friends decided, when the Highlander had passed 
 on. They were speedily more fully enlightened, 
 when soon afterwards a near neighbour of Inch- 
 brakie's — a 'safe' man, as those loyal to King 
 Charles were called — told them ' that he had under- 
 taken to deliver some important State letters to the 
 Marquis of Montrose, who was at Carlisle ! ' 
 
 Inchbrakie could not help laughing in his sleeve, 
 when he reflected that not three hundred yards 
 away was the very person his friend was going to 
 seek ; but in those disturbed times it did not do to 
 be too confidential. He therefore merely promised 
 to give them to Montrose, ' even,' he added, ' if I 
 go on purpose to Carlisle.' 
 
 That very evening Montrose eagerly scanned the 
 letters, all of which breathed a spirit of resolute 
 daring. Allaster, or Alexander, a Scot by birth and
 
 6o The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 descent, had landed with about twelve hundred men 
 on the Ardnamurchan coast, in the Western High- 
 lands. 
 
 The news of the arrival of this little army soon 
 came to Argyle's ears. Although but a handful of 
 ill-armed recruits, the Scotch dictator was ordered 
 to go and rout them out of the mountains. 
 
 Argyle's first step was to destroy the ships that 
 Allaster had brought over from Ireland. When the 
 latter found that he could not, even if he would, 
 re-embark, he swore vengeance against those ancient 
 foes of his clan, the false Campbells. 
 
 He laid waste the land that lay between the 
 Ardnamurchan coast and Kintail, and harassed the 
 Campbells ; but very few Highlanders obeyed his 
 call, for he was no mighty chief to invoke enthu- 
 siasm by his name and presence. The want of a 
 leader was very apparent, and deterred many from 
 following him, although the Highlanders were 
 warmly attached to the royal cause. Those who 
 did go were principally men of Badenoch ; and 
 Allaster's hopes fell when he found that the chief 
 of the Mackenzies, the Earl of Seaforth, though a 
 Royalist at heart, had been induced by the influence 
 of family ties to declare for the Covenanters. 
 
 The desertion of Seaforth implied that none of 
 the brave Mackenzies would take up arms for
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 6i 
 
 Charles; for the clan, of course, went with their 
 chieftain ; and though the cross of fire had been 
 taken far and wide, charging all to fight in defence 
 of the King, there was but small prospect of success, 
 till Montrose received the letters. 
 
 He replied to them at once, and bid all who loved 
 the royal cause to meet him on a certain day in the 
 Athol country. 
 
 There seemed magic in Montrose's very name. 
 When Allaster Macdonald told his men that ere 
 long our hero would be with them, they shouldered 
 their muskets, and grasped their clubs and broad- 
 swords with renewed spirit ; and, led by their general, 
 they marched toward Blair in Athol, which they 
 took on their way to the given rendezvous. 
 
 The Highlanders of Athol, real descendants of 
 the Caledonian Gael, were devoted to Montrose. 
 On their devoted attachment to his person our hero 
 counted, when he bid Allaster await him in the 
 Athol country. They would not have risen in arms 
 for the Allaster; but when Montrose appeared, 
 there was no lack of sturdy clansmen to answer to 
 his appeal. 
 
 The appointed day and hour arrived ; and the 
 Irish brigade, and those Highlanders who had joined 
 them, assembled on a plain near Blair Athol. 
 
 They had been told that Montrose bore the
 
 62 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 King's commission, and were therefore unprepared 
 to see coming along the valley only two High- 
 landers. Montrose and his cousin stood in their 
 midst before they well knew he was near at hand. 
 Astonished, they inquired : 
 
 ' Can that be he who is to save us from destruc- 
 tion ? That simple mountaineer the mighty chief- 
 tain we have expected ? ' 
 
 Still more astonished were the Irish to witness 
 the enthusiasm of the clansmen. 
 
 ' Come every hill plaid, and true heart that wears one ; 
 Come every steel blade, and strong hand that bears one !' 
 
 They were ready to cry, * to fight for Montrose,' as 
 they greeted the Graham. 
 
 ' All would now be well,' cried the Highlanders. 
 * He was there, all would be now well ! We will 
 chase,' cried they, ' false MacCaileam Mor back to 
 his lair ; he shall know that we revenge the burning 
 of our ships ! We'll compell him to repent his 
 defiance of the King's authority.' 
 
 Again and again the plain near Blair Athol 
 resounded with those Gaelic cheers. 
 
 Those few Macdonalds who were there raised 
 
 their war-cry — 
 
 'My son, my son, quicken thy hand 
 And harden thy blows.' 
 
 Thus did Macdonald's little army welcome Mon-
 
 The Vow of Montrose, 63 
 
 trose. Though he came among them with no 
 outward sign of power, his greeting was as hearty 
 as had he headed all his sovereign's buffcoats. 
 
 Our hero lost no time in inaction. He at once 
 set off southward from Blair Athol, his spirits 
 greatly raised by a number of Highlanders joining 
 his standard just as he commenced his march. 
 
 The men of Athol were all loyal to King Charles, 
 and had only waited to take up arms in his cause, 
 till they saw the Irish headed by a leader of note 
 and fame. As their number was upwards of eight 
 hundred, Montrose looked upon this addition to his 
 force with no little satisfaction. 
 
 On marched he and his clansmen, armed with mus- 
 kets, pikes, and broadswords, till they came to the 
 Castle of Weeme, in the country of the Menzieses. 
 There Montrose halted to give a severe lesson to its 
 owners, and to strike terror into his enemies' hearts. 
 He burnt the houses and wasted the corn fields of 
 that clan. The Menzies had large possessions in 
 the Perthshire Highlands, and had sorely harassed 
 the rear of Montrose's army, although he had sent a 
 message of truce to the Castle of Weeme. Mon- 
 trose's cousin, Patrick Graham of Inchbrakie, pre- 
 ceded the band, as an advanced guard. 
 
 This gallant Highlander was much beloved by 
 the Athol men, so that when Montrose bade him
 
 64 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 select the nimblest of their number for scouts, there 
 was no lack of volunteers. The value of so faithful a 
 leader was soon shown in Inchbrakie's alacrity, for 
 he brought back word that a large body of men had 
 been seen on the hillside at Bucknith. They turned 
 out to be friends in the guise of foes, for they were 
 Highlanders commanded by Lord Kilpont, son of 
 the Earl of Menteith, who had been ordered by the 
 Scottish Government to arm all his clansmen against 
 Montrose. 
 
 The young Earl had so far obeyed his orders, as 
 to gather together about five hundred of his re- 
 tainers, as well as several of the men of Keir and 
 Napier. In his heart, however, he had no desire 
 to fight for the Covenanters. Two of Montrose's 
 greatest friends, the Master of Maderty and Sir 
 Colin Drummond, were with Lord Kilpont. When 
 they heard that the force of * malignants* they had 
 been charged to crush were commanded by Mon- 
 trose, they needed but slight inducement to join him 
 and his clansmen. 
 
 The party Kilpont sent to negotiate readily 
 listened to the arguments of Montrose in favour of 
 a cause that might be but a losing one, but which, 
 urged he, was that of honour and renown : 
 
 * Its watichvvord was honour, its pay was renown.* 
 
 The party under Lord Kilpont joined Montrose;
 
 The Vow of Mo7it7^ose. 65 
 
 and, thus augmented, — his army now numbering 
 about three thousand, — hurried eagerly forward to 
 strike the first blow for the royal cause. But their 
 enemies were more than double him in strength. 
 All the cavalry Montrose could boast were three 
 miserable horses, one of which was appropriated to 
 Sir William Rollock, who had been lame from child- 
 hood. Arrayed against him was a powerful body 
 of seven hundred horsemen and six thousand foot 
 soldiers, well appointed and well armed, with four 
 pieces of field artillery. The Covenanters awaited 
 him at Perth. Argyle was pursuing him, although 
 some days' march behind. 
 
 To Perth Montrose determined to go, and if 
 possible venture a pitched battle before the false 
 MacCaileam Mor should come up with him and his 
 Redshanks. 
 
 The Earl of Elcho commanded the Covenanters, 
 and led them out to the plain of Tippermuir, beyond 
 the fair town of Perth. Confident in the superiority 
 of their numbers, they awaited Montrose. Victory, 
 they thought, must surely be theirs ; for, in addition 
 to their superior numbers, they were led to battle by 
 many a gallant chief ; and the clergy who accom- 
 panied the army declared ' that God would not fail 
 to give them victory.' The Earl of Elcho com- 
 manded the right flank, Sir James Scott — an officer
 
 66 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 who had greatly distinguished himself abroad — the 
 left, and the Earl of Tullibardine the main body 
 of the Covenanters. In order to enclose the gallant 
 little army, advancing so pluckily to meet them, 
 they were drawn out into one long line, with horse- 
 men at each wing. Montrose's eagle eye discerned 
 and provided against his adversary's tactics. He 
 marshalled his men three deep, and desired the first 
 rank to fire kneeling, the second bending, and the 
 third standing. He placed himself in the post of 
 danger, opposite Sir James Scott's left flank. 
 
 Thus drawn up, the two armies could measure 
 each other's strength. 
 
 Before beginning the fight, Montrose sent a flag 
 of truce to Lord Elcho, with a message commanding 
 them in the King's name, and his own, to surrender; 
 declaring that the thought of shedding his country- 
 men's blood was odious to him, and that he wished 
 ' his victories might be written without a single red 
 letter.' 
 
 The Covenanters, certain of success, returned no 
 reply ; but they sent young Drummond, who bore 
 the message, into Perth, threatening to behead him 
 when the battle was over. 
 
 The conflict began between a few of Lord Elcho's 
 horsemen and some of Montrose's Highland scouts. 
 But before a drop of blood was shed the hero
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 67 
 
 addressed his little army. He walked along the 
 ranks of those devoted men, not one of whom but 
 would have died for him. 
 
 ' Clansmen,' said he, his flashing eye scanning the 
 whole length of his line, ' you have but few arms, 
 while yonder soldiers have plenty. But there are 
 stones on this moor ; let each one of you beat out 
 the brains of the first canting Covenanter he meets, 
 and seize his sword ! ' 
 
 With a great rallying cry his advice was followed. 
 The horsemen were driven back by the desperate 
 courage of the Redshanks ; and the stones hurled at 
 the foe were, as it turned out, their most formidable 
 weapons. In vain Elcho's artillery discharged their 
 cannon. Helter skelter fled his army that so short 
 a time before had blasphemously called itself the 
 * army of God ;' and Montrose, without the loss of a 
 single man, had routed the Covenanters. Victory 
 was his, and all his enemy's cannon, baggage, tents, 
 and arms fell into his hand. His Highlanders 
 pursued the flying foe ; and on the very evening 
 of the fight Montrose entered the prosperous city 
 of Perth. The loss on the Covenanters' side was 
 very great ; and besides the prisoners taken by the 
 clansmen, when Montrose entered Perth he found 
 about eight hundred Fife men, whom he imprisoned 
 till they solemnly swore never again to bear arms
 
 68 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 against the King, — an oath which, in spite of the 
 reHgious superiority laid claim to by their party, 
 many did not hesitate to break as soon as Montrose 
 was out of sight. 
 
 He treated the citizens of Perth very clemently, 
 hoping to win them to his sovereign's cause. He 
 compelled them, however, to pay a fine, and to 
 entertain himself and his followers for the three 
 days they remained in the city. Montrose did not 
 remain long in Perth. A few gentlemen of dis- 
 tinction joined him when the battle of Tippermuir 
 had shown them how gallant a leader they would 
 have in Montrose. But our hero noted with gloom 
 and amazement how small were their number in 
 comparison with those who, excited by fanatic zeal, 
 upheld the rebellious blue banner of the Scottish 
 Covenant. The Earl of Kinnoul was among the 
 number of those who joined the Scottish Cavaliers. 
 Added to this disappointment, Montrose, after the 
 battle of Tippermuir, found himself deserted by 
 large bodies of clansmen ; not because they had any 
 intention of abandoning one to whom they were so 
 attached, but because it was a Highland custom to 
 retire with spoil acquired in a battle ; and the Athol 
 men were eager to take their booty home, while 
 Montrose would fain have followed up his success 
 by another conflict.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 69 
 
 Argyle, he heard, was marching rapidly on him, 
 joined by a southern army, alarmed at the seizure of 
 Perth ; and our hero, when he measured his own 
 resources by the standard of the MacCaileam Mor's 
 large force, felt that he dared not remain in Perth to 
 meet his powerful foe. 
 
 Accordingly quitting Perth, he led his men across 
 the River Tay, to a place called Cupar in Angus, 
 where they encamped on the site of what had once 
 been a famous monastery. He was joined by Sir 
 Thomas Ogilvie and several others of the Angus 
 gently ; but a terrible event took place the very 
 next day in our hero's camp, that dashed all the 
 joy that his success at Tippermuir had excited in 
 his bosom. 
 
 John, Lord Kilpont, who had joined Montrose, 
 had incurred the anger of the Covenanters by doing 
 so. They chose as their instrument of revenge a 
 Highlander named James Stewart of Ardvoirlich, 
 who plotted how to put a diabolical deed, planned 
 by his crafty head, into execution. 
 
 It is impossible to imagine a baser deed. Lord Kil- 
 pont was a most accomplished scholar, soldier, and 
 gentleman. Stewart was his vassal, whom Kilpont 
 had admitted to the closest intimacy. The latter 
 had even shared his tent with Stewart at Cupar, 
 little dreaming that beneath his plaid there lay so
 
 70 The Fiery Cross ; or^ 
 
 close to him a dark designing villain. Yet so it 
 was. Early next morning, Stewart, taking Kilpont 
 aside, revealed to his astonished ears a horrible plot. 
 The young lord, so above crime that he could 
 scarcely understand even its existence, started back 
 when Stewart told him that he intended to assas- 
 sinate Montrose, and then, escaping to the Cove- 
 nanters' army, claim a large reward. Knowing that 
 Lord Kilpont loved him, the base wretch tried to 
 influence him to join in the plot. 
 
 The horror depicted on Kilpont's face as he 
 listened, convinced James Stewart that his patron 
 and friend must not live to betray him. No thought 
 of former benefits or kindnesses stayed his hand. 
 Suddenly turning upon Lord Kilpont, he stabbed 
 him to the heart ; and then, favoured by the gloom 
 of the early morning, fied to Argyle, who, to his 
 disgrace, raised him to a good post in his army. 
 When Montrose, hurriedly aroused by the noise of 
 a great tumult in the camp, rushed out, he found 
 his friend's lifeless body lying prone upon the 
 heather, stained by the bright red blood of his 
 noble heart. 
 
 Montrose's grief knew no bounds. He embraced 
 those cold, pale cheeks, so lately full of life, and 
 pressed his friend's sad lips, whose last utterance had 
 been a repudiation of violence and treachery I
 
 The Vow of Afontrose. 71 
 
 The bards of his clan wailed over his dead body, 
 and told of his deeds of valour as they bore it back 
 to his tent, and prepared a bier to carry it home. 
 Turning away with heavy sighs and tears, Montrose 
 left his clan to sing the coronach over their chief- 
 tain's body. The murderer had escaped, and there 
 was nothing left but to give the body a fitting 
 funeral. In order to do this, nearly four hundred of 
 Lord Kilpont's clan quitted Montrose. That was a 
 terrible loss to him, because the Athol men had 
 already left Montrose. In spite of being joined b\' 
 a number of brave gentlemen, the news that, in 
 addition to the army commanded by Argyle, a 
 large force of northern Covenanters had assembled 
 at Aberdeen, headed by Lord Burleigh, greatly 
 damped the spirits of the Cavaliers. Yet Montrose 
 did not hesitate; and on the nth of September 
 1644, he marched down upon Aberdeen, and pre- 
 pared to give Lord Burleigh battle. 
 
 First of all, Montrose sent a flag of truce bidding 
 the town to surrender. The citizens returned no 
 reply to a missive from one whom they had once 
 opposed as a Covenanter, and now resisted as a 
 Royalist. 
 
 Once Montrose had marched into Aberdeen, 
 bearing the colours of a party to which he had 
 been true as long as he believed that the motive of
 
 72 
 
 The Fiery Cross. 
 
 their resistance to the King was pure and good. 
 Now he bore attached on his plaid a ribbon of 
 red hue ; and yet, strange to say, he was not the 
 only one of that host who had changed sides.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 • News of battle ! news of battle ! 
 Hark ! 'tis ringing down the street, 
 And the archways and the pavement 
 Bear the clang of hurrying feet ' ' 
 
 — Aytoun. 
 
 HEN the good burghers of Aberdeen found 
 Montrose so close to them, they were 
 thoroughly dismayed. By a wonderful 
 turn of fortune, the political position of their fair city 
 had changed greatly since they and the Marquis 
 had last met. 
 
 Four or five years before, the Aberdeen burghers, 
 loyal to King Charles, had resisted that enforced 
 submission to the Scottish Covenant which Mon- 
 trose, then a Covenanter, had forced them to yield 
 at the point of the sword. 
 
 In 1644, the Marquis returned to find the once 
 loyal citir.ens Covenanters, while he himself, having 
 become a Cavalier, was daring and planning the
 
 74 Th^ Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 most venturesome deeds for the sake of a monarch 
 whom once he had deemed a tyrant ! 
 
 The clan Gordon also, who in 1639 ^^^ been so 
 devotedly loyal, had now, as it were, enlisted on 
 the other side, although still at heart true to King 
 Charles. A clan is bound to fight under the banner 
 supported by its chief, and the Marquis of Huntly 
 had neither forgotten nor forgiven Montrose's ap- 
 parent want of good faith towards himself when 
 the latter had led him as a prisoner to Edinburgh. 
 Thus the greatest blemish on our hero's shield, 
 the greatest stain upon his fame, was the means, 
 humanly speaking, of his ultimate fate ! Had the 
 Gordons fought from the first side by side with the 
 Grahams, perchance the tale of the great Scottish 
 civil wars might have been a very different one to 
 that recorded by history. 
 
 Lord Lewis Gordon, a fair knightly youth, and 
 Huntly's third son, had raised his father's clan in 
 defence of the Covenant, although in 1639 the 
 young chieftain had headed an enterprise for King 
 Charles. 
 
 Montrose's plan was to engage Burleigh's army 
 before Argyle could come up with him ; though 
 with that discretion which is said to be the better 
 part of valour, the great MacCaileam Mor seemed 
 to linger behind, and to be in no haste to overtake
 
 The Vow of Monh'ose. 75 
 
 his expeditious rival. When Montrose found his 
 message disregarded by the enemy, he determined 
 to fight. Unequal indeed were the numbers of the 
 belhgerents. Lord Burleigh headed a force of two 
 thousand foot soldiers and five hundred cavalry ; 
 while Montrose, for the time deserted by the Athol 
 men, who had gone home with their booty, could 
 only muster fifteen hundred men and forty-four 
 horsemen. 
 
 The battle commenced between Montrose's right 
 flank and the Gordons, headed in person by Lord 
 Lewis. Rash, though valiant, as became his name. 
 Lord Lewis Gordon charged his foe with his horse- 
 men. 
 
 He was met with desperate courage by the Red- 
 shanks. Their valour, aided by twenty horsemen 
 despatched to their help by their vigilant general 
 the moment that he noted the Gordons' onset, was 
 crowned with success. The Gordons fled before 
 those half-armed but devoted clansmen, who, yelling 
 out their war-cries, would fain have pursued their 
 flying foe ; but their brave leaders prudently held 
 their impetuosity in check. The result proved that 
 they were fortunate in their prudence. The enemy's 
 right flank, of well-tried horsemen, charged Mon-< 
 trose's right wing. 
 
 The Marquis at the very moment of their ad- 
 
 F
 
 76 The Fiery Cross ; or^ 
 
 vance was crying out to those among his men who 
 were engaged against Gordon's force : ' To close 
 quarters,' cried he, ' and give no quarter to traitors ! 
 on at them with your broadswords and the butt-end 
 of your firearms ; spare none who have planned 
 treachery and treason ! ' He saw there was no 
 time to be lost. He rallied his horsemen and sent 
 them to the aid of his left flank. The horsemen 
 attacked the enemy's rear ; and, inspired by their 
 leader's words, the Redshanks, with desperate valour, 
 beat back the foe : 
 
 ' Nor victory could desert a band so brave ! ' 
 
 Montrose had the satisfaction of seeing the 
 enemy's right flank as fully routed as their left ; 
 and no longer restraining his men, the Highlanders 
 rushed after their flying foes up the streets of Aber- 
 deen, soon strewn with heaps of dead bodies. 
 
 In the height of the battle one poor fellow of 
 Montrose's army had both his legs shot off by a 
 cannon ball. His companions paused for a moment 
 in dismay. The sufTerer was an Irishman, and he 
 recovered his spirits in a moment. 
 
 * What are you halting for, brave comrades } ' 
 cried he ; ' it's the fortune of war ! In future, I'll 
 fight on horseback.' 
 
 After a loud cheer this Irish Spartan severed his
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 77 
 
 leg from his body with his own claymore. * Bury 
 that,' cried he, ' with the dead ! ' Montrose took 
 good care to promote such a hero. 
 
 Montrose did not rest long at Aberdeen ; for he 
 heard that, besides Argyle's army, the Covenanters 
 had sent a large force from the border, commanded 
 by Lord Callander, to assist the MacCaileam Mors 
 troops. He therefore marched to a village named 
 Kintore, ten miles distant from Aberdeen. From 
 this place Sir William Rollock undertook to set off 
 to Oxford, the bearer of despatches to Charles, in 
 which, after telling him of his victorious career, he 
 implored the King to send him supplies of men and 
 arms. 
 
 The Marquis's great hope lay in the Gordons, 
 whom he still trusted would join him. He had 
 stationed himself at Kintore, with an especial view 
 to their repairing to his little army. Bitter, indeed, 
 was his disappointment when he found how re- 
 solutely that clan kept aloof Finding that the fear 
 of offending their chief, Huntly, had more influence 
 with the Gordons than their attachment to the royal 
 cause, our hero, hiding his heavy baggage and guns 
 in a bog, determined to lead his followers up into 
 the mountains. His own knowledge of the High- 
 lands was great ; and he counted on being better 
 able to defy Argyle's superior numbers in those im-
 
 yS TJie Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 pregnable passes than in a less mountainous dis- 
 trict. 
 
 From Kintore the Cavaliers marched to Inverury ; 
 and three days after they had left it, the Covenanters 
 entered Aberdeen, 
 
 Argyle's first act on entering the city was to issue 
 a proclamation, offering twenty thousand pounds 
 to any one who would produce Montrose, dead or 
 alive. Highland fidelity, however, was as strong 
 in that century as when, a hundred years later, a 
 royal fugitive trusted it not in vain ; no bribe was 
 large enough to tempt those faithful clansmen ; no 
 reward was large enough to make them betray one 
 who had trusted in their honour. 
 
 Montrose intended to cross the River Spey. This 
 river is very wide and large, and one of the most 
 rapid in Scotland, as its name, indeed, denotes — 
 * spey ' being derived from a word meaning 'activity' 
 or ' force.' It runs through a wild mountainous 
 district, almost inaccessible except to those who, 
 like Montrose and his Redshanks, could endure the 
 fatigue of hasty marches over rugged hills, with but 
 scanty fare to cheer the way. 
 
 Montrose reached the banks of the Spey at the 
 point where he intended to cross over, only to find 
 arrayed against him a body of five thousand 
 Covenanters in battle array, ready to attack him
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 79 
 
 and his handful of men should they dare to attempt 
 its passage. To do so would have been madness 
 and certain death ; so Montrose turned aside on his 
 course, and following the bent of the river, went into 
 Badenoch. 
 
 The fatigue, anxiety, and disappointments our 
 hero had undergone now told upon him. He fell 
 dangerously ill, and although secure for the moment 
 in a strong fortress, his devoted clansmen for some 
 days anxiously watched their beloved leader's sick- 
 bed. 
 
 The rumours of his illness reached the Covenanters, 
 and public thanks were offered up for what the 
 preachers termed ' a great deliverance ! ' 
 
 It was openly announced by the Presbyterian 
 clergy that ' the Lord had slain Montrose ; ' and no 
 greater proof of his prowess can be given than the 
 joy felt at the report of his death. 
 
 Montrose, however, recovered, and the hopes of 
 the Covenanters fell to the ground. Even while on 
 a bed of sickness he had planned how he could de- 
 feat his powerful enemy Argyle. He determined 
 to leave no stone unturned to add to his numbers, 
 sohe sent Allaster Macdonald with a large party of 
 Irish to the Western Highlands ; when, as soon as 
 he was sufficiently recovered, he crossed the Gram- 
 pians and reappeared again in Blair Athol early in
 
 So The Fiery Ci'oss ; or, 
 
 October. He took possession of an old castle there 
 called Fyvie, and awaited Macdonald's return. 
 Montrose had abandoned his cherished hope of help 
 from the Gordons, but anxiously expected Mac- 
 donald to return, believing that the latter would not 
 fail to bring fresh recruits from the Western High- 
 lands. 
 
 Montrose reposed great faith in Allaster Mac- 
 donald, or 'Colkeitoch' as he was familiarly called, 
 — meaning, ' Coll of the left hand.' 
 
 Although, in the eyes of the Highlanders, Mac- 
 donald's pedigree was not lofty enough to entitle 
 him, when he first landed, to lead them to battle 
 for the royal cause, he was of gentle birth, his 
 father, Colonel Macdonald, being settled on the 
 island of lona, in the Western Highlands. 
 
 During Colkeitoch's absence, Montrose tried to 
 harass his enemy's troops and weaken their re- 
 sources by a species of warfare very similar to that 
 of the 'free lances' of modern times. 
 
 He had no cavalry, but his men were so active 
 and light-footed that they thought nothing of 
 marching eight or nine miles at night to surprise 
 the enemy. Montrose often returned from such 
 expeditions not only laden with spoil, but some- 
 times fortunate in having taken several prisoners. 
 
 This kind of predatory warfare excited just the
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 8i 
 
 feelings that Montrose intended it to do. With 
 fifteen hundred men he thus contrived to intimi- 
 date a great tract of country, and to inspire it with 
 the idea that he was resistless. 
 
 Such was the rapidity of our hero's movements, 
 that his enemies constantly believed that he was 
 near them, and on the point of being taken, when 
 he and his Redshanks were perhaps miles off, far 
 beyond their reach. 
 
 In the meantime, Argyle, though supposed to be 
 in active pursuit of Montrose, had never actually 
 confronted him in battle. Although with relentless 
 cruelty destroying all the live stock and crops of 
 those who had joined Montrose, Argyle still kept 
 far behind. The Covenanting Government even 
 murmured at the slowness of their favourite's move- 
 ments, although they affected to scoff at the success 
 of the Marquis. 
 
 His victories, the Presbyterian clergy affected to 
 believe, were only 'permitted for a season;' for, with 
 unflinching belief in their own cause, they claimed 
 for Argyle's army the privilege of being 'the soldiers 
 of God.' Strange fanaticism ! 
 
 The moment, however, was rapidly advancing 
 when Argyle should meet Montrose in battle. 
 Strange to say, the Covenanters had crossed the 
 Grampians, and were within two miles of the
 
 82 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 Royalists' little army before their scouts brought 
 word of the enemy's approach. 
 
 What was he to do ? His rival's army numbered 
 nearly four thousand strong, — a fourth of whom 
 were horsemen, commanded by Lord Lothian, while 
 our hero, in Macdonald's absence, could barely mus- 
 ter half that number ; besides which, his men were 
 almost destitute of arms and ammunition. 
 
 One moment's hesitation as to his course was 
 followed by prompt decisive action. He disdained 
 the idea of fortifying himself in Fyvie Castle, and 
 determined to meet Argyle, but not on the plain. 
 He knew that on level land the number of his 
 enemy's men, and the superiority of well-armed 
 and disciplined troops against his volunteers, who 
 were, after all, only raw recruits, would tell against 
 him ; so, drawing his sword, he led the way in 
 person to a lofty hill above the castle, where he 
 disposed his Highlanders to the best advantage he 
 could in the face of an enemy rapidly climbing up 
 the uneven sides of the mountain. 
 
 The hill was rough, and divided by little mounds 
 thrown up by those who had lately tilled the land. 
 Montrose saw those hedges and ditches would be 
 useful as rude fortifications for his men. The top 
 of the hill was thickly wooded. While disposing 
 his men on its summit, he saw two things that
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 83 
 
 might well have daunted him. He saw the few 
 Gordons who had joined him deserting his side as 
 soon as they discovered among Argyle's com- 
 manders Lord Huntly's two sons. He noted also, 
 that, owing to the desperate courage with which 
 they fought their way, several Covenanters had 
 seized hold of the very ditches and fences he had 
 counted upon as posts for his own troops. 
 
 The greater part of Montrose's men were utterly 
 dismayed by the turn that fortune seemed to be 
 taking. Had he hesitated for a moment, he would 
 have soon found himself entirely abandoned. Rais- 
 ing his voice, he implored the Redshanks to remem- 
 ber their previous victories, and not to be dismayed 
 at the smallness of their numbers. 
 
 His words arrested the flight of his men, and 
 they were greatly encouraged by the firmness with 
 which, turning to a brave Irishman named O'Ryan, 
 Montrose, as calmly as if it were an everyday 
 matter, bid him go and rout out the Covenanters 
 who had taken possession of the ditclics. 
 
 'Go, O'Ryan,' cried Montrose, 'take a handful of 
 men, and drive me those fellows out of yonder 
 ditches, that we may be no more plagued with 
 them !' 
 
 The brave O'Ryan executed the order as calmly 
 as it was given ; and the Covenanters, dislodged
 
 84 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 from the ditches, were soon flying in wild dis- 
 order. 
 
 The Redshanks returned in triumph to Montrose, 
 bringing back several bags of gunpowder abandoned 
 by the Covenanters. 
 
 This episode told greatly for Montrose. Half a 
 general's battle and cause are won when his men 
 are confident of success; and Montrose saw to his 
 delight how his Redshanks cheered O'Ryan and 
 his victorious little party when they rejoined their 
 friends. 
 
 The men, pleased with their prize, jested about it 
 among themselves. 
 
 * Pity,' cried one, as he handed a powder-bag, 
 'there were not bullets as well! Faith, we must 
 fetch them in another bout !' 
 
 Montrose had stationed his fifty men at the top 
 of the hill. Seeing that Lord Lothian was advanc- 
 ing at the head of a large body of cavalry, the 
 Marquis of Montrose directed those of his foot who 
 had guns, to fire at them while they were riding 
 across a field that lay between the rival forces. 
 The volley scared the Covenanting cavalry, who 
 turned round and beat a hasty and disorderly 
 retreat. 
 
 The Redshanks were delighted at this second 
 victory; but Montrose was compelled to restrain
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 85 
 
 their ardour, by telling them to wait his commands 
 before engaging their enemies in another con- 
 flict. 
 
 The evening shadows were falling across the hill 
 on which our hero had made so brave a resistance, 
 when Argyle thought prudent to retrea*- for the 
 night ; but knowing the Marquis's proneness to 
 sudden surprises, he made all his men sleep under 
 arms, and bid his scouts keep a good look-out. 
 
 From his spies he learned that Montrose was 
 dreadfully embarrassed for want of ammunition. 
 That was indeed the case ; and so great was his 
 want of bullets, that his men were compelled to 
 forage among the neighbouring farm-houses for 
 metal with which to cast them. 
 
 The supply, nevertheless, ran very short of the 
 demand ; but the Cavaliers, by their resolute man- 
 ner, deterred the enemy from making any further 
 attempt to disperse Montrose's ill-armed band. 
 
 Argyle retreated nightly across a neighbouring 
 river ; and Montrose, availing himself of a dark 
 night towards the end of October, returned to his 
 former position at Strathbogie, where he awaited 
 Allaster Macdonald's return. 
 
 That place belonged to Lord liuntly, and its 
 pleasant parks proved better quarters for the Red- 
 shanks than the wild heather-covered hills around
 
 S6 The Fiery Cross ; or^ 
 
 Fyvic. Argyle, after one or two ineffectual attempts 
 to engage Montrose on level land, proposed a truce, 
 and determined to try by treacherous policy to 
 vanquish his foe. 
 
 In spite of Argyle's promise of protection should 
 he trust himself to a personal conference, Montrose 
 resolutely refused all offers. 
 
 Too noble to dissimulate, our hero made no secret 
 of his intention to retreat into Badenoch, where he 
 knew he could defy his rival. 
 
 Many of the noblemen and gentlemen who had 
 joined the royal standard were Lowlanders, to 
 whom the idea of wintering among bleak hills was 
 little short of appalling. Argyle worked by his 
 secret agents on their fears of such a hard campaign. 
 He told them that if they submitted to him now, he 
 would not only procure for them a full pardon, but 
 also promotion and favours. The bait so artfully 
 held out took with almost all the Lowland lairds. 
 
 Thus Montrose, day after dky, saw some one of 
 his party desert his camp and go over to the enemy, 
 and soon had the additional pain of seeing Colonel 
 Sibbald join the deserters. The hardships of a 
 Highland winter in prospect, joined perhaps to a 
 feeling that against a whole nation's will the struggle 
 would be but vain, daunted all except the Earl of 
 Airlie and his two sons, Sir Thomas and David
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 87 
 
 Ogilvie. They alone, among the many false friends, 
 stood true to the royal cause. 
 
 Among those who went over to Argyle was one 
 Nathaniel Gordon. His aim, however, in going, 
 was to try and persuade Lord Lewis Gordon to join 
 the royal side. Montrose was in the secret, and 
 how he succeeded we shall hear later on. 
 
 Argyle set a price on Montrose's head, hoping 
 that some simple soldier of his little army might be 
 tempted to betray him. Not one was found base 
 enough to sell his brave leader's life. When, how- 
 ever, Montrose found how many Lowland gentlemen 
 had deserted him, he felt compelled, in order to 
 effect a safe retreat for himself and his men, to 
 resort to a subterfuge. 
 
 Afraid that those who had gone over to Argyle 
 might betray his plans, he feigned to have suddenly 
 altered his intention of wintering in the Highlands. 
 He ordered his men to recall the baggage already 
 sent on, and to prepare for a battle on the following 
 day. He drew them up in battle order, and Argyle 
 began to think that his new friends had misled him. 
 After four days spent in thus misleading the Cove- 
 nanters, Montrose marched his men off by night, 
 and before Argyle even knew of his intention, he 
 and his faithful Redshanks were on their way across 
 mountains thick with snow, and along wild tracks
 
 88 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 of country untenanted save by deer and wild game, 
 towards the braes of Athol. Argyle having failed 
 to perform his promise of dispersing the * malig- 
 nants,' and destroying Montrose, was compelled to 
 return to Edinburgh. He tried to excuse the igno- 
 minious way in which he had conducted the cam- 
 paign by boasting of his 'bloodless victories;' but 
 while some were misled by his plausible statements, 
 there were many disgusted at the want of courage 
 he had shown, while the bravery of Montrose shone 
 all the more brightly by contrast. 
 
 There is nothing so convincing as success. Men 
 began to believe that there must be more good than 
 they had before believed possible in a cause sup- 
 ported by one so noble as the illustrious Graham, 
 and those who endured hardships with so much 
 devotion. They contrasted his self-sacrificing cha- 
 racter with that of the MacCaileam Mor ; and the 
 royal cause once so openly scoffed at, began to 
 receive more forbearance and respect even amongst 
 its enemies. Men began to discuss the question 
 more fairly, and a growing moderation towards the 
 Cavaliers was the result. 
 
 Scarcely had the Marquis and his men, after 
 a toilsome march, reached Badenoch, than a faith- 
 ful messenger brought news of Argyle's move- 
 ments.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 89 
 
 The treacherous Covenanter had marched to 
 Dunkeld, in the heart of the Athol country, with a 
 view to persuading the Cavaliers to abandon the 
 royal cause. 
 
 The city of Dunkeld was memorable as having 
 been once the capital of ancient Caledonia, — ' the 
 stronghold or fortress of the Gael.' Lying in the 
 middle of the Athol country, it served Argyle's 
 purpose well, when he was, with all the speciousness 
 of his crafty nature, bent on corrupting the fidelity 
 of its clansmen. 
 
 Dunkeld had been once, so it is said, the abode 
 of St. Columba, when he migrated from Scotia 
 (Ireland) and Christianized Alban (Scotland). This 
 celebrated Saint first converted a powerful monarch 
 named Bruidhi, who bestowed on his deliverer from 
 heathenism the island of lona, that had belonged 
 to the Druids, who were, as you of course know, 
 heathen priests. St. Columba founded a famous 
 monastery at lona, and he and its abbots have 
 Christianized all Alban. 
 
 It was probably partly owing to the religious 
 influence of the place that round its picturesque 
 city the clansmen were devotedly loyal. Indeed, 
 devotion to their kings, from the earliest period to 
 the later times, characterized the whole district. 
 
 Montrose, when told of Argyle's position, deter-
 
 90 The Ficiy Cross ; or, 
 
 mined to defeat his plans. He turned back with 
 his usual rapidity, and was within sixteen miles of 
 his rival before the latter had even heard of his 
 approach. Argyle immediately retired into Perth- 
 shire, and Montrose lost the opportunity of decid- 
 ing the contest between the two rival parties by a 
 decisive battle. Baffled in his projected attack on 
 the Covenanters, Montrose summoned a council of 
 war. Allaster Macdonald had rejoined him at Blair 
 Athol; and while waiting in that great vale to glean 
 tidings of his faithful Colkeitoch, the heroic Marquis 
 was rewarded for his confidence in, and devotion 
 to, the royal cause by the former's reappearance, 
 accompanied by a numerous band of the Clan- 
 ranalds, some of the Camerons and Stewarts of 
 Appin — in all, a very considerable number. 
 
 In the midst of the lovely scenery of that part 
 of Scotland, within sight of high mountains, rocks, 
 and heaths, whose very names reminded the Red- 
 shanks of battles lost and won by their ancestors, 
 Montrose solemnly consulted those who had thus 
 bravely sided with a falling cause. 
 
 Amid those grand scenes each man spoke freely. 
 One feeling animated all breasts as each chief and 
 chieftain spoke in that council of war. 
 
 That feeling was hatred of the Cavipbclls ; for that 
 clan, so powerful, so imperious, and so grasping, had
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 91 
 
 ruined many who that day ranged round Mon- 
 trose. 
 
 The clan ' Diarmid of the Boar ' were the heredi- 
 tary enemies of the Macdonalds. 
 
 The Marquis was in favour of wintering with liis 
 troops in the Lowlands, in order to be more certain 
 of obtaining provisions for his army ; but one daring 
 voice suggested 'that to avenge all their many 
 wrongs on Argyle, no place for the Redshanks were 
 better chosen than Argyle' s ozvn country.' 
 
 The hills resounded again and again with applause 
 at a proposal which also well suited Montrose's 
 daring soul. 'The MacCaileam Mor should see 
 that those whom he termed "malignants" could 
 harass him even where his own influence was 
 highest ! ' * They would show him how the Scottish 
 Cavaliers could fight for honour and revenge ! ' 
 
 The die was cast, and it was decided that Argyle 
 should be harassed in his own land and among his 
 own clan. 
 
 The Lowlands w^ere strongly garrisoned, and Pres- 
 byterian to the backbone, so the decision was a wise 
 one. The next question was, how could the army 
 be fed in that wild peninsular district .-* 
 
 To answer this question Montrose singled out of 
 the group of excited Highlanders around him one 
 Angus Macdonald of Glencoe. 
 
 G
 
 92 The Fiay Cross ; oVy 
 
 The clansman whom he addressed was well known 
 as a good marksman and soldier, to whom every 
 inch of the ground was familiar. 
 
 ' I know,' said he, ' every farm under MacCaileam 
 Mor, and every inch of his country. If good water, 
 plenty of houses, and fat kine will do for you, there 
 are plenty to be had.' 
 
 The Marquis no longer hesitated. Secure of food 
 for his brave men, he determined to march straight 
 into Argyleshire. 
 
 He divided his army into three bands. One, led 
 by himself, marched from the braes of Athol by the 
 head of Loch Tay into Argyleshire, while Allaster 
 Macdonald and John of Moidart led the two others 
 by different roads towards the same goal. The 
 Redshanks, with cruel fidelity, kept their vow of 
 vengeance. As they marched on they ravaged the 
 whole country, burning the dwellings, eating or 
 destroying the herds of sheep and cattle, and in the 
 short space of six weeks, from the 13th of December 
 i6z^. to January 1645, the unfortunate inhabitants 
 of Argyleshire suffered all the horrors of war in its 
 worst form. 
 
 The party, guided on their way to vengeance by 
 John of Moidart, surpassed those led by Montrose 
 and Macdonald in the cruelties they inflicted on all 
 whom they met
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 93 
 
 In their ardour for revenge, they stopped not to 
 inquire who were innocent or who were guilty. All 
 were Campbells, and all were to die ! The whole 
 country was burnt and ravaged, and 695 persons 
 were put to death by those remorseless men. There 
 was no deed of cruelty or violence ever practised by 
 the Campbells that was unrevenged ; and laden with 
 spoil — for on one foray as many as a thousand head 
 of cattle were seized — the Highlanders marched 
 on to Inveraray. 
 
 What was the MacCaileam Mor about, and why 
 did he allow this rapid attack on his country } He 
 was living in his own castle of Inveraray, making 
 great efforts to enlist his clan, and busied with the 
 arrangements for a meeting he had summoned from 
 far and near of all the Campbell tribe. 
 
 He had been told, but had scoffed at the very 
 idea of the Marquis's invasion of his territory. 
 
 While he was living quietly in his strong castle, 
 flattering himself no enemy could possibly find out 
 the secret of those rocky passes that securely 
 guarded, as he imagined, his native land (for he 
 was accustomed to say that they were impregnable, 
 ' nor would he have them known for a hundred 
 thousand crowns'), an enemy whom he fondly 
 believed far distant was rapidly advancing ; and 
 it was not till Montrose was actually within two
 
 94 TJie Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 miles of his fortress that the MacCaileam Mor 
 realized his danger. 
 
 He learned his danger from the cowherds of the 
 neighbouring hills. In fear and trembling they told 
 their great chieftain of his rival's vicinity. 
 
 No thought of his defenceless clansmen, no pity 
 for those on whom his own cruel deeds had recoiled 
 with such fearful severity, stayed the cowardly chief. 
 Leaving his clan to their fate, he escaped in a fish- 
 ing boat on Loch Fyne, and fled into the Lowlands, 
 He went to Dumbarton, and met a body of troops 
 hastily recalled by the Edinburgh Government from 
 England to aid in quelling this formidable insurrec- 
 tion. When once more in a place of safety, Argyle 
 boasted of his intention of leaving no stone unturned 
 till he had crushed Montrose, In conjunction with 
 General Baillie, he drew up a scheme which was 
 destined to destroy the Cavaliers. 
 
 At the head of a force of about three thousand 
 men, Argyle was to pursue Montrose, while Baillie, 
 leading another force, was, by making a detour, to 
 encounter the Marquis's advanced guard, and thus 
 by hemming him in on both sides prevent his 
 escape in any direction. 
 
 Lord Seaforth and the Erasers were on the Cove- 
 nanters' side, and would therefore guard the north, 
 near Inverness.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 95 
 
 Argyle's clan were beginning to despise his mili- 
 tary prowess, while his character for personal 
 courage had sorely suffered from his precipitate 
 .flight from Inveraray. In order to inspire his fol- 
 lowers with confidence, the crafty Lord recalled his 
 brave cousin Sir Duncan Campbell of Auchinbreck 
 from Ireland, by dint of whose reputation as a 
 soldier Argyle recovered his lost ground with his 
 own clan. 
 
 Montrose, in the meantime, was reaping the fruits 
 of the character for bravery that he had acquired ; 
 his name inspiring terror throughout Argyllshire. 
 
 To obtain a name as one who was invincible, 
 the naturally kind-hearted Montrose had permitted 
 the cruelties that for several weeks his relentless 
 followers practised on the Campbells. That con- 
 duct cannot be defended even by his warmest 
 admirers. 
 
 The vengeance wreaked so unmercifully on the 
 women and children of their enemies is a great 
 stain on the memory of Montrose. Although sup- 
 ported by those whose motives for doing so were 
 strongly influenced by hatred of the Campbells, 
 Montrose had probably but little choice in the 
 matter, and was compelled to permit many wanton 
 cruelties. 
 
 Fortunately for the King's little army, the season
 
 96 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 had been remarkably good. Had Montrose and 
 his men had to endure the hardships of snow and 
 cold, the sequel to his enterprise might have been 
 very different. Had Argyle, too, but possessed the 
 ordinary courage of his race and stood his ground, 
 Montrose would have scarcely escaped ; for to those 
 who knew the mountain passes of Argyllshire, it 
 was indeed a matter of surprise that the Mac- 
 Caileam Mor had attempted no resistance. Such 
 was the nature of that mountainous tract, a hun- 
 dred men, commanded by a brave leader, had kept 
 all their foes at bay. 
 
 Montrose was by no means in ignorance of his 
 enemy's schemes for his destruction. 
 
 His scouts brought him word at Loch Ness, 
 where, after leaving Argyllshire, he had quartered 
 himself, that the Earl of Seaforth, although by no 
 means unfriendly to the King's cause, had enlisted 
 a large body of men against him, and was awaiting 
 him at Inverness. 
 
 Montrose, although his own little army barely 
 numbered fifteen hundred men, determined to 
 attack Seaforth's larger force at Inverness. So he 
 marched towards that city through the valley of 
 
 Albin. 
 
 On his road he was overtaken by a Highlander, 
 Ian Lorn Macdonnell, a celebrated bard of the
 
 Montrose receives important intelligence. — Page 98. 
 97
 
 98 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 Keppoch family. He hastened to Montrose, and 
 bid him listen to his tale. 
 
 ' The great MacCaileam Mor,' said the breathless 
 bard, 'pursues thee! He is followed by his tribe, 
 and many other Highlanders. He is ravaging South 
 Lochaber, and burning down every house he comes 
 to, and boasts that he will return to tell the tale of 
 thy destruction !' 
 
 Montrose flushed with surprise and indignation. 
 He refused to believe the tale. 
 
 ' He dares not pursue me through Lochaber,' he 
 cried. After pondering, however, a few minutes, he 
 summoned the chiefs of his army to a conference. 
 They agreed with him^in thinking the tale impro- 
 bable; but that were it true, Montrose's only course 
 was to desist from his projected attack on Inverness, 
 and to double back upon his foe. 
 
 Although at first incredulous, after a h'ttle reflec- 
 tion Montrose began to believe the bard's tale as 
 consistent with the idea that Argyle would fain 
 entrap him by coming up in the rear, while the 
 vanguard of his army were engaged in battle with 
 Seaforth's powerful troops, most of whom were well- 
 disciplined soldiers from the Inverness garrison. 
 
 Sternly directing the clansmen around him to 
 bind the messenger with stout cords, — 'for,' said 
 Montrose to Ian Lorn, 'if your news. Sir Bard, be
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 99 
 
 false, you shall be shot at the head of the column,' 
 — he turned round to find his way over the wild 
 mountain, in order that Argyle might gain no 
 knowledge of his intentions. 
 
 Ian Lorn had told him that Argyle had halted 
 close to I>och Eil, in a strong fortress called Inver- 
 lochy, close to the sea. 
 
 Two short days only did the Scottish Cavaliers 
 take before the old fortress frowned before them, 
 to recompense them for their arduous march, as, 
 guided by Ian Lorn across snow-girt hills and 
 frozen moors, they glided along more swiftly almost 
 than the startled herds of wild deer which, at sight 
 of those 'kilted laddies,' fled along the wild passes 
 before them. 
 
 This march of thirty miles, however, being happily 
 ended in safety, the poet guide demanded his free- 
 dom and a recompense from Montrose. It was 
 night when Ian Lorn received his guerdon, so richly 
 earned, from Montrose. 
 
 It was a moment for a painter to delineate, or a 
 poet to describe. The moonlight lighted up the 
 rugged rocks around Montrose's wearied men, who 
 dared Viot rest; for although the Cavaliers, by killing 
 his scouts, had almost reached Argyle's camp before 
 he knew of their dread vicinity, the rays of the 
 m.oon on that clear frosty night had disclosed the
 
 TOO The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 secret of their presence to the enemy who were 
 encamped before them. 
 
 'Ian Lorn,' said the great Marquis, 'never bard 
 has won his "brogue money" better than thou. 
 Wilt thou fight by my side ?' 
 
 ' I cannot, my Lord,' repHed Ian Lorn; 'but fight 
 to-day, and to-morrow I will tell you what you 
 have done.' 
 
 Argyle's craven heart again failed him. Under 
 pretence that he was too indisposed after a fall to 
 fight, he hastily went on board a vessel that lay 
 conveniently at hand, and issued his commands to 
 his men from that place of safety. 
 
 They, worthy of a better leader, were no cowards. 
 They determined to meet their foe with valour, 
 although during the night no one suspected that 
 Montrose was with those tartaned warriors who 
 were waiting only till daybreak to attack them. 
 
 From the mountain above, the faithful bard, who 
 had been the means of guiding Montrose's army to 
 the spot, watched the battle. 
 
 He saw first the sun slowly rising in the east, 
 lighting up with golden splendour the fine scenery 
 around. It was alone enough to kindle poetic 
 ardour ; but as he gazed below him, he marked 
 the battle begin that was to determine the fate 
 of a king's right against a nation's might. It
 
 The Vow of Montrose. loi 
 
 was Sunday morning, the second of February 
 1645. 
 
 Unfortunately for the brave Campbells, Argyle 
 had neglected the opportunity afforded him by the 
 darkness of concentrating all his forces. The River 
 Lochy, a deep rapid stream, divided his army, 
 which, if united, had perchance coped better with 
 the Redshanks ; but Argyle had refused to believe 
 that it were a well-organized force that lay watching 
 his camp that bright moonlight night. It was not 
 till a loud shrill trumpet, sounding clear and louder 
 through the mountain air, saluted the Dictator's ear 
 that he believed in the presence of Montrose. 
 
 His cheek paled and his craven heart trembled 
 at the blast. His clansmen might wonder at the 
 sound, never perchance heard by them before ; but 
 the MacCaileam Mor knew that it was intended as 
 a salute to the standard of a king whom he had 
 betrayed. 
 
 The morning mists obscure for a few minutes Ian 
 Lorn's view of that historic scene. He supports 
 himself by a stout heather twig, as in his anxiety 
 he strains his eyeballs to watch the battle. 
 
 ' By heavens ! they fight at last,' he exclaims, as, 
 attacked by the flower of the Campbells, the brave 
 O'Ryan meets the first attack at the head of the 
 Cavaliers.
 
 102 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 A moment before, the bard's eager eyes have 
 seen a white flag of truce advancing from Argyle's 
 side ; but it was disregarded by Montrose's men, 
 who broke off with impetuosity to meet the charge. 
 
 The Campbells had fired on Montrose's soldiers ; 
 but when the latter saw that they had muskets, they 
 rushed all the wilder on. Destitute of powder, they 
 drew their claymores and closed with the enemy, 
 who, daunted by so unexpected an assault, fled in 
 every direction. 
 
 Argyle's troops were stationed on the gentle 
 ascent that led to the castle of Inverlochy, which 
 was flanked by the loch behind, on the waters of 
 which Argyle watched the conflict. The River 
 Lochy at that point joins an arm of the sea called 
 Loch Eil ; and when the Lowlanders, who formed 
 the right and left wings of the Covenanters' army, 
 saw Montrose's men rush wildly, claymore in hand, 
 towards them, they threw down their guns and fled 
 in a panic, pursued for upwards of nine miles by 
 the Redshanks. 
 
 Some fled towards the square towers of the castle 
 behind them ; others ran wildly down towards the 
 beach, in the vain hope of saving themselves by 
 means of a number of small fishing smacks that 
 lay moored along the sea-shore. Argyle, as he 
 watched those wild Highlanders massacre his fly-
 
 The Vow of Montrose. lo 
 
 o 
 
 ■»,'>T^ 
 
 ing- men, might well congratulate himself that he 
 was safe on board his vessel. 
 
 The body of many a brave Campbell floated 
 round the bark that held the Covenantincr chief: 
 but eager to place his own person in safety, he 
 stopped not to pity or to save. He gazed not with 
 remorse on the upturned dead faces, but hastily 
 ordering the sailors to set sail, he departed to seek 
 a place of greater security. 
 
 The carnage that ensued was horrible and long. 
 Fifteen hundred Campbells perished that day, 
 although Montrose would fain have saved the lives 
 of many a valiant gentleman who had fought for 
 the poltroon Argyle. 
 
 The castle surrendered. Montrose treated all 
 within its walls with great kindness. On his side 
 the number of the killed and wounded was com- 
 paratively small ; but after the battle, the brave Sir 
 Thomas Ogilvie died of his wounds. He had been 
 one of the truest and best friends Montrose ever 
 possessed. 
 
 The Redshanks, after pursuing the enemy, turned 
 back to get what food they could for their mid-day 
 meal. To cook such food as they had found they 
 needed utensils, and a party sallied forth to find 
 some pots in the peasants' houses. 
 
 Allaster Macdonald, however, had failed to get a
 
 1 04 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 pot, and one of his men, approaching a party of 
 Highlanders seated round a fire, begged for a loan 
 of one. The men, reluctant to offend the general, 
 were just going to give up their pot, when Robert- 
 son, one of their number, remonstrated. 
 
 ' Tell the general,' said he, * I wouldn't give it up. 
 Why should he spoil our breakfast } I am as good 
 a man as he. If he killed twenty men, I killed 
 nineteen.' 
 
 The messenger returned to the general, who was 
 too high-minded to be angry with Robertson, whom 
 he tried to find out. The latter, much as he had 
 boasted of his prowess, was really a modest man. 
 He felt dreadfully afraid of meeting the general 
 after his daring message, and glided away the 
 moment he saw him approaching. Allaster, how- 
 ever, determined to see so brave a man, and pre- 
 sently overtaking him, demanded his name. 
 
 'Tis not worthy to be named,' said Robertson, 
 
 * among those of the brave men who fought to-day.' 
 
 Pressed, however, by Allaster, he said — 
 ' I am only a poor tinker among the Athol men.' 
 ' Would to God,' cried Allaster, ' the Athol men 
 had been all tinkers this day.' Robertson's descen- 
 dants still call themselves, with great pride, the race 
 
 * of the Tinker.' 
 
 Allaster was noted alike for his courage and 
 
 t-N
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 105 
 
 strensfth of hand. With one blow he could strike 
 a single enemy dead. He was therefore greatly 
 admired by the Redshanks. 
 
 Unhappily in his case courage was not tempered 
 by mercy. He hated the Campbells with a hatred 
 that led him to commit the most cruel deeds ; and 
 his vindictive feelings towards that tribe had doubt- 
 less made him take up arms against the Cove- 
 nanters. 
 
 The part he took led to the imprisonment of his 
 father and two brothers, who, at the very time of 
 the battle of Inverlochy, were captives in Edin- 
 burgh. The Campbells, not content with punishing 
 Allaster Macdonald's relations, had behaved with 
 the greatest brutality to his foster-nurse. 
 
 A Highlander especially reverences his foster- 
 mother ; and when Allaster heard of the indignity 
 with which she had been treated, he vowed he would 
 revenge her wrongs. This is how he kept his word : — 
 
 The battle was over, and the Redshanks were 
 returning from the pursuit at evening, bringing 
 back many prisoners. Montrose did all he could 
 to save the lives of some honourable men, but he 
 was successful in few instances, for the carnage had 
 been dreadful. Among the Campbells was the 
 brave old Colonel Campbell of Auchinbreck, a kins- 
 man of Argyle. When Allaster Macdonald saw
 
 io6 The Fiery Cross; or. 
 
 Colonel Campbell led in between two Highlanders, 
 a ghastly purpose crossed his mind. The latter, a 
 fine courteous soldier, recognised Macdonald, and 
 to conciliate his victor, alluded to a 'cousinship' 
 that existed between them; but Allaster saw 
 through him. 
 
 ' I know you to be a gentleman,' said he, ' both a 
 laird and a soldier of Auchiabreck, in Scotland, and 
 therefore I mean to treat you well.' 
 
 Auchinbreck began to hope that he had really 
 escaped his doom, and he thanked his conqueror. 
 
 ' Which do you choose,' said Allaster ; ' to die by 
 hanging, or to be beheaded .'' ' 
 
 ' Alas ! ' said the old Colonel, ' it's two bads 
 without one choice ! ' 
 
 Allaster MacCol beheaded the unfortunate old 
 soldier with one sweep of the gigantic sword. 
 
 Dreadful is war that has power to rouse such 
 revengeful feelings. This murder — for it can be 
 called nothing else — is a great blot on the Cavaliers' 
 fame. The Campbells had been cruel, traitorous, 
 and treacherous, but nothing justified the cruelties 
 practised on them in return. 
 
 'Fallen race of Diarmid ! disloyal, iintme, 
 No harp in the Highlands will sorrow for you ; 
 But the birds of Loch Eil are wheeling on high, 
 And the Badenoch wolves hear the Cameron's cry, — 
 ** Come feast ye 1 come feast where the false-hearted lie I " '
 
 The I 'ow of Montrose. 107 
 
 The wrongs of the race so long oppressed by 
 Argyle's tribe were cruelly revenged that day. 
 Ihe battle of Inverlochy produced the effect on 
 Scotland that Montrose had anticipated. 
 
 In vain Argyle, parading his arm in a sling, to 
 show that an accident had prevented his fighting in 
 person, so perverted the truth in recounting the 
 reasons of his retreat, that instead of branding his 
 name as a coward, the Edinburgh Covenanters 
 even thanked him for his services. Throughout 
 the length and breadth of the Highlands, Montrose 
 was celebrated as a hero who had defeated one of 
 the three large armies sent against him. 
 
 He had aspired to reduce his native but rebellious 
 land to obedience. The idea was romantic, noble, 
 and brave, but it ultimately failed for lack of the 
 co-operation of many who, though at heart no 
 Covenanters, dreaded the evils that Charles the 
 First, through his weakness as a king, had brought 
 upon their country; nevertheless, such was the panic 
 that the battle of Inverlochy produced, that had 
 Montrose pushed on to Edinburgh, he would pro- 
 bably have met with but slight resistance. 
 
 He mistrusted the fighting powers of the High- 
 landers, and feared lest, removed from their moun- 
 tains, the very sight of whose snow-clad peaks 
 seemed to rouse their souls to the performance of 
 
 H
 
 io8 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 great deeds, they might be crushed when led against 
 armies of well-organized troops. He accordingly, 
 after resting a few days, turned northwards, and 
 once more found himself and his men quartered at 
 Loch Ness. 
 
 Loch Ness, the second largest lake in Scotland, 
 takes its name, * the loch above the waterfall,' from 
 the Ness, which falls from a great height into its 
 waters. It is in a valley called ' the great vale of 
 Alban,' along which are the remains of some very 
 ancient forts, used, it is believed, as early as the 
 days of the Pictish kings as places for watchfires 
 or beacons. He then marched on, always in a 
 northerly direction, till he came to the River Spey. 
 Montrose laid waste all the lands he passed on his 
 road ; and although he was too humane to allow 
 such violence, he had but little choice. Argyle had 
 ravaged the lands of the Royalists, and a system 
 of retaliation v/as all that Montrose's friends and 
 followers cared for. Had the King's noble cham- 
 pion dared for one moment to check his followers, 
 he would soon have found himself utterly deserted. 
 Revenge was the predominant motive that animated 
 the Redshanks, and the Marquis, unable to repress, 
 was constrained into permitting their cruelties. 
 
 Fiercely had the fiery cross aroused those brave 
 but pitiless warriors !
 
 TJie Vow of Montrose. 109 
 
 It was a war of fire and bloodshed ; and the track 
 of the Cavaliers, as they marched towards Elgin, 
 was marked by devastated fields, ruined home- 
 steads, fire, rapine, and cruelty. Mothers clasped 
 their children closer to their bosoms as the dread 
 name 'Montrose' was named; and such was the 
 terror he inspired, that even the stern rulers of the 
 land forebore to execute the unfortunate Royalists 
 who had fallen into their hands. 
 
 Montrose had two motives for directing his course 
 towards Elgin. He heard that a body of soldiers, 
 officered by several leading men, were being armed 
 against the royal cause, and he thought it not 
 unlikely that as soon as it was known how com- 
 pletely he had defeated Argyle, many would flock 
 to his standard and join his side. 
 
 Then he knew that if he attempted to take 
 Inverness, he ran great risk of being defeated, as 
 that city was well garrisoned, and would not easily 
 surrender. A great many gentlemen, however, 
 joined Montrose ; among them the Laird of Grant 
 with three hundred men, Sir Robert Gordon and 
 the Earl of Seaforth, who at the head of a large 
 force had recently been employed by the Cove- 
 nanters to arrest his progress. 
 
 As these gentlemen were influential in their own 
 part of Scotland, their example had great weight
 
 no The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 with others ; and every day the camp of Montrose 
 received fresh reinforcements. 
 
 The gentlemen of Moray voluntarily dispersed as 
 the Cavaliers approached Elgin ; they first, however, 
 sent a deputation to Montrose to entreat his good 
 offices. To these he had replied, that his only 
 terms were 'submission to the King and his lieu- 
 tenant.' 
 
 Elgin, which he reached on the 14th of February, 
 readily submitted to Montrose. 
 
 When, as already stated, the Marquis first con- 
 templated the romantic scheme of raising the High- 
 lands in Charles's favour, he had hoped much from 
 the Gordons, and was greatly disappointed to find 
 that gallant race holding aloof. His delight was 
 therefore great, when, on the very day after he 
 entered the now deserted Elgin, he was joined by 
 Lord Gordon, the Marquis of Huntly's eldest son. 
 
 Lord Gordon, disgusted with Argyle's conduct, 
 had shaken of the trammels of the Covenanting 
 party, which up to that time he had reluctantly 
 joined, and now openly declared himself a Royalist. 
 
 This young nobleman could not bring a great 
 many adherents to the royal cause, but his example 
 was followed by his brother Lord Lewis ; and both 
 were graciously welcomed by Montrn<;p. 
 
 Early in March, the Marquis and his Redshank^;—
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 1 1 1 
 
 their numbers greatly augmented by the Gordons 
 and Grants, who had subsequently joined — crossed 
 the River Spey, where he was joined by many inde- 
 pendent gentlemen of Banffshire and Aberdeenshire. 
 Those who would not run the risk of drawing down 
 the wrath of the Covenanters by an open declara- 
 tion for the King, were allowed to go free, provided 
 they promised not to fight against him. This 
 promise, held sacred by many, was broken by the 
 Earl of Seaforth, who shortly afterwards deserted 
 the Cavaliers. He had merely joined the Cavaliers 
 from motives of expediency ; and when all fears for 
 his own personal safety were removed by their 
 absence from his country, he deserted them. 
 
 The news of the Cavaliers' doings in the north 
 at last aroused the worst fears of the Edinburgh 
 Government. No longer blinded to their danger 
 by Argyle, they hastily summoned General Baillie 
 from England, and ordered Sir John Hurry to take 
 the immediate command of the army in the north, 
 and rid them, if possible, of the terrible Mon- 
 trose. 
 
 The soldier to whom these orders were given was 
 a famous general, who had been knighted in 1643 
 by King Charles, soon after he had quitted the 
 Covenanters ; although he very soon changed sides 
 again, and after a very brief service under Prince
 
 112 Tlie Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 Rupert, Charles's nephew, went over to the Presby- 
 terians. 
 
 Although so unstable. Sir John Hurry was an 
 able and daring soldier. He commanded a fine 
 body of cavalry, and marched rapidly after the 
 Cavaliers ; the Edinburgh Government meanwhile 
 appointing three committees to regulate military 
 matters. Argyle, keeping his influence in spite of 
 his recent failures, headed one of them ; the Earl of 
 Lanerick, Hamilton's brother, another ; and Bal- 
 merino and Lindsay the third. 
 
 Montrose was visited at this time with a domestic 
 affliction in the death of his eldest son, a fine lad of 
 fifteen, who succumbed to the hardships of a winter's 
 campaign, and died after a few days' illness at Gor- 
 don Castle. Gordon Castle was then called the Bog 
 of Gight, and was commanded by a spirited man, 
 one of the ' gay Gordons,' who did all that lay in 
 his power to induce the whole of his clan to join 
 Montrose. 
 
 Among them was a brave but daring Cavalier 
 named Nathaniel Gordon, who had been the means 
 of winning Lord Gordon over to the royal cause. 
 When traversing Banffshire and Aberdeen, Mon- 
 trose sent this brave Nathaniel Gordon to Aberdeen 
 to demand men, horses, and money. 
 
 Gordon feared no Covenanter; but his reckless
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 1 1 3 
 
 bravery cost the royal cause very dearly. He took 
 with him to Aberdeen a Mr. Donald Farquharson of 
 Braemar, one of the bravest Highland gentlemen in 
 the royal army. This gallant gentleman belonged 
 to a gallant race whose clan also inhabited Balmoral, 
 in Aberdeenshire, — a place now familiar to us all, — 
 and whose Gaelic name, ' Baile-na-morail,' means 
 ' majestic town.' This gallant chief, after doing his 
 duty in helping Gordon to perform Montrose's com- 
 mission, wishing to enjoy himself, threw aside his 
 plaid, put on a rich suit, and ' made merry ' with his 
 comrades. The citizens of Aberdeen were supposed 
 to be so overawed by the terror of Montrose's name, 
 that the Cavaliers imprudently neglected to post 
 sentinels outside the banqueting hall, where, gaily 
 attired, they were feasting and enjoying good wine, 
 provided at the town's expense. 
 
 Whether or not some citizen, determined to betray 
 them, had given Sir John Hurry notice of their 
 vicinity, is not really known ; but while feasting and 
 singing, the Cavaliers were hurriedly warned that 
 Hurry, followed by about a hundred and sixty men, 
 was coming rapidly towards their rendezvous. 
 
 Farquharson, rushing to the door, was met by the 
 Covenanters, who instantly killed him ; and tearing 
 off his rich clothes, threw his dead body naked into 
 the streets.
 
 114 '^^''^ Fiery Cross. 
 
 Gordon and a few of the party escaped, though 
 forced to fly on foot, leaving some valuable horses 
 behind them ; but the greater number of the 
 Cavaliers were captured and carried off to Edin- 
 burgh, where they were thrown into the Tolbooth, 
 to be punished according to the pleasure of the 
 Covenanters. 
 
 The citizens of Aberdeen were greatly alarmed at 
 this tragical event, lest Montrose should vent his 
 anger on their city ; but although he made them 
 pay a fine, he respected their liberties. 
 
 This trouble, involving the loss of so brave a 
 gentleman as Donald Farquharson, was not the only 
 one that happened in that month. Sir John Hurry, 
 not content with his dashing exploit at Aberdeen, 
 managed to get hold of Montrose's second son, a boy 
 of fourteen, who was at school at Montrose. Both he 
 and his tutor were sent to the Edinburgh Tolbooth, 
 in hopes of intimidating his father. But if they 
 hoped to quench the high spirit of Montrose, they 
 were mistaken. Grieving sorely at the loss of his 
 children, he yet pursued his course; and after burning 
 and laying waste the lands about Stonehaven and 
 Dunnottar, — the latter place belonging to Earl 
 Marischal, who would not join him, — he passed the 
 Grampian Hills, and encamped seven miles from 
 Sir John Hurry's quarters near Brechin.
 
 r*v-tn 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 * Let the ancient hills of Scotland 
 Hear once more the battle son','' 
 Swell within their glens and valleys, 
 As the clansmen march along.' 
 
 — AytouN. 
 
 ;]1IR JOHN HURRY, with a fine body of 
 cavalry, and being a very skilful general, 
 counted on an easy victory over Montrose. 
 
 He thought that could he but once meet him on 
 level ground, away from the mountains, he must 
 surely defeat an enemy so ill provided with troops. 
 His scouts brought word that the Redshanks were 
 quartered at Fettercairn, a village about eight miles 
 from his own camp. 
 
 The Marquis hearing that Hurry intended to 
 fight, determined to lay a trap for him. He had 
 only two hundred horsemen, and these he placed in 
 front of all his army. His foot were artfully con- 
 cealed in a hollow ; so that when Sir John rode up 
 at the head of his regulars, only seeing so small a 
 
 "5
 
 1 1 6 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 number of men, he fancied that Montrose would 
 soon be routed. 
 
 * Fire !' cried he to his men, who at once charged. 
 But scarcely had they done so, when up jumped a 
 large body of Redshanks, and advancing on Hurry's 
 men, gave them such a warm reception, that they 
 were compelled to sound a hasty retreat. 
 
 Hurry, however, was no coward like Argyle, for 
 he fought bravely in the rear of his army, and re- 
 treated his men in good order across the River Esk. 
 But his defeat taught him to respect IMontrose's 
 warlike abilities as much as he had previously 
 despised them. 
 
 Another general was soon to measure his strength 
 against Montrose, — that was Baillie, who had a very 
 large force under him, and had been specially sum- 
 moned from England to crush the * malignant ' 
 army. He quitted Perth in March, and advanced to 
 meet Montrose on his road from Brechin. 
 
 The two armies sighted each other near the River 
 Isla, whose waters divided their hostile forces. For 
 four days and five nights they gazed impatiently 
 upon each other's ranks, the river dividing them. 
 
 Nothing could be more trying to the impetuous 
 spirit of Montrose. He sent a message to Baillie, 
 that he longed to give him battle. 
 
 * Pledge me your honour,' said Montrose, * to fight.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 117 
 
 and I will permit your whole force to pass safely- 
 over the stream, or I will meet you on the other 
 side ! ' 
 
 * Tell Montrose/ replied Baillie, ' that I will fight 
 at my own time and in my own way, without asking 
 his leave ! ' 
 
 The armies retreated without encountering each 
 other in battle, — a result highly galling to Montrose, 
 who longed for another conflict with his enemies. 
 
 After escaping again in a surprising manner from 
 Hurry and Baillie, Montrose retreated to Dunkeld, 
 where he planned an enterprise that once more 
 nearly proved fatal to his cause. 
 
 In the first place, unknown to his brother, Lord 
 Lewis Gordon suddenly deserted the royal standard, 
 and disappeared from Montrose's camp, accompanied 
 by a good many Gordons, and went over to the 
 enemy. This young nobleman was by nature so 
 volatile that his support could not be relied upon ; 
 but many believed he was acting under instructions 
 from the Marquis of Huntly, his father, who would 
 not be induced to give Montrose his support. Be 
 that as it might, for it has never been really proved 
 against the Marquis of Huntly that he acted 
 treacherously, Lord Lewis's desertion came at a 
 critical moment, and Montrose determined to retreat 
 northwards, in order to recruit his weakened forces.
 
 1 1 8 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 He was on his way northwards when his scouts, 
 flying back, brought word that the Covenanters had 
 crossed the Tay, south of Perth. Believing that his 
 way to it was therefore clear, our hero determined 
 to make a raid on Dundee, which he looked upon 
 as a most disloyal city. He sent all his heavy 
 baggage and the weakest of his little army to 
 Brechin, and ordered them to await him there. 
 
 One fine April morning, Montrose, at the head of 
 six hundred Highlanders and about a hundred and 
 fifty horsemen, appeared on a hill overlooking Dun- 
 dee, and sent a messenger to demand its capitula- 
 tion, in ' the name of the King.' 
 
 Receiving no reply, and from his messenger not 
 returning, Montrose knew that they had carried out 
 their usual course and thrown him into prison. 
 Irritated at resistance, the Marquis let loose his 
 Redshanks, eager as bloodhounds to scent blood. 
 The citizens made a kind of defence, but Allaster 
 Macdonald and Lord Gordon stormed the place in 
 three directions, and soon entered Dundee. 
 
 The townspeople were well punished for resist- 
 ance. Once inside Dundee, the Irish brigade and 
 clansmen took possession of the church and public 
 places. The burghers were beaten back, and a scene 
 of great pillage followed. Montrose, from a neigh- 
 bouring height, made no effort to stop the course
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 119 
 
 of their fury, for Dundee had offended him, and he 
 suffered it to be punished. 
 
 Feasting and drinking, the Highlanders and Irish 
 were regahng themselves on the spoils they found in 
 that rich town, when Montrose was warned by his 
 scouts that Hurry and Baillie, with an army twice 
 as numerous as his own, were but eight miles off, 
 hastening to the relief of Dundee. 
 
 What was to be done .-' All his troops, with but 
 one trifling exception, were inside Dundee, drinking, 
 pillaging, and storming. His friends urged him to 
 ensure his own safety by flight. The noble spirit of 
 Montrose at once repudiated the idea of abandoning 
 his Redshanks to their fate. 
 
 There was little time for action, but much danger 
 in the task. Ordering the trumpets to be sounded, 
 he hastily recalled the revellers ; and by dint of 
 the greatest personal exertions, got nearly all his 
 intoxicated men to march out before the enemy 
 arrived in sight. So thoroughly had he been sur- 
 prised, however, that the Covenanters were positively 
 entering one gate of Dundee as the last of the clans- 
 men defiled past their chivalrous leader through 
 another. 
 
 He sent his men forward in two bodies, sfuardin"" 
 the rear with his cavalry. The sun was setting as 
 the Cavaliers quitted Dundee. The Covenanters
 
 1 20 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 immediately pursued them, Baillie sending part of 
 his forces round to attack the Royalists in flank, while 
 Hurry was to engage them in the rear. 
 
 Never had Montrose been nearer falling into the 
 hands of his enemies. To stimulate their soldiers 
 to the pursuit, the Parliamentary generals set a price 
 on the gallant Graham's head. 
 
 Although Hurry's horse made several attacks on 
 the Earl of Montrose's army, they were kept at bay 
 by the determined resistance of the Redshanks ; and 
 night falling, the Parliamentarians abandoned the 
 pursuit, and retired to the main body of the army. 
 
 Although Montrose had retreated in time, it was 
 indeed an arduous march that lay before him, were 
 his men to reach the sea-coast before day should 
 dawn. They, however, marched boldly on, and 
 reached Arbroath, seventeen miles from Dundee, 
 before daybreak. 
 
 Numerous were Montrose's difficulties in returning 
 to the mountains. He knew that Baillie would 
 suspect his design, and endeavour to cut off every 
 road to the hills. 
 
 While their leader was pondering over his position 
 at Arbroath, the weary Highlanders lay down to 
 rest, thoroughly exhausted by the fatigues of the 
 eventful day. 
 
 To rest was fatal. Daybreak would find their
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 121 
 
 pursuers upon them if they slept even for an hour. 
 Appealing to their attachment to himself, and 
 rousing the slumberers, Montrose and his chieftains 
 urged on their men. 
 
 Montrose formed a daring plan. He doubled 
 upon those in pursuit of him, and before morning 
 the distant Grampian hills rose before his eyes but 
 three or four miles off. They were safe. In those 
 beloved mountains they could hide if too sorely 
 pressed. Safe at length in the depths of Glen Esk, 
 Montrose then, deeply moved at the sufferings of 
 his Highlanders — who had marched without rest or 
 food for sixty miles — stopped in that romantic place 
 to restore his troops. 
 
 The chiefs once more met in council. Lord Gor- 
 don, eager to clear himself of any complicity in his 
 brother Lewis's desertion, volunteered to return into 
 his own country and there recruit for the King's 
 service. He was, indeed, anxious to return, for he 
 was fearful that Hurry, in revenge for his adherence 
 to the lOyal cause, might take advantage of his 
 absence to ravage his country. 
 
 Accordingly, the gallant young nobleman left 
 Montrose in the mountains ; and Allaster Mac- 
 donald was sent farther north for fresh recruits, 
 while another chief proceeded to Athol to raise, if 
 possible, more volunteers.
 
 122 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 The Marquis himself was then left alone, with a 
 small force of only five hundred foot and fifty horse. 
 
 After sending off a messenger in disguise to the 
 King, Montrose, instead of remaining inactive in the 
 hills, suddenly reappeared, to the astonishment of 
 Hurry and Baillie. who had stated that the greater 
 part of his army had been annihilated, and himself 
 skulking in the Grampians. They were soon made 
 to retract their words. Sir John Hurry had been 
 sent by the committee, at the head of another large 
 army, into Aberdeen and its neighbourhood, to 
 direct his strength against Lord Gordon in the 
 north. 
 
 General Baillie remained at Perth to be ready to 
 assist, if necessary, Sir John Hurry's army. 
 
 If the Covenanters fancied Montrose would have 
 remained inactive, they were grievously mistaken. 
 The Marquis had determined on a daring enter- 
 prise, — no less than a descent on the Lowlands. 
 He had also a double motive, which was to harass 
 his enemies and keep them occupied in watching 
 his movements, while his friends were scouring 
 Scotland for further aid. 
 
 Baillie, hearing from his spies that Montrose was 
 quartered at Crieff, determined to try and surprise 
 him. He set out at night, and reached Montrose's 
 camp at daybreak. The Marquis had been warned
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 123 
 
 of his approach ; and finding that the Parliamentary 
 army was five times larger than his own, ordered his 
 men to retreat, while, at the head of his cavalry, he 
 rode forward to keep the enemy at bay while his 
 foot reached the pass of Ern in safety. 
 
 There, on the scene of many an ancient battle, 
 — for Strathearn in Perthshire is the site of three 
 large camps erected by Agricola when the Romans 
 first visited Britain, — Montrose rested for a night. 
 Next day he and his daring band were marching 
 towards Loch Katrine. 
 
 From that lovely spot he proceeded to Loch 
 Ard, having effected a meeting with the Marquis 
 of Huntly's second son, Viscount Aboyne, who, 
 after hesitating about joining Montrose, had at 
 length escaped from England to fight under the 
 King's banner. 
 
 Montrose, however, could not linger where he 
 was ; for he soon heard ill-tidings of Lord Gordon 
 in the north. Hurry, finding that Lord Gordon 
 persisted in his adherence to the King, threatened 
 him and all his clan with destruction at Auchin- 
 doun in the north. Montrose therefore determined 
 to set off to the rescue. 
 
 Besides Lord Aboyne, our hero was now joined 
 by two noble youths who had managed to escape 
 out of Edinburgh. They were his two nephews,
 
 1 24 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 the Master of Napier and the young Laird of Keir, 
 The Government in Edinburgh had not been 
 ashamed to punish the Marquis by imprisoning and 
 ill-treating his relations. Young Napier was only 
 just twenty-one. He had been married at the early 
 age of sixteen, and was son of Montrose's great 
 friend Lord Napier. 
 
 Montrose, by a rapid march, succeeded in joining 
 Lord Gordon ; and Sir John Hurry was startled 
 early in May to find him close to his camp in 
 Strathbogie. 
 
 Rather than meet Montrose in battle before re- 
 inforcements should arrive. Hurry crossed the Spey 
 and retreated to Elgin, the Cavaliers in full chase. 
 Montrose was very ill provided with ammunition ; 
 but Lord Gordon, with great gallantry, had pro- 
 cured a fresh supply by boarding two ships laden 
 with gunpowder in the port of Aberdeen. 
 
 Montrose encamped at a village called Auldearn, 
 where, happily, he had the aid of Allaster Mac- 
 • donald, who had rejoined his leader with his men. 
 
 Sir John Hurry had been joined by the Earls of 
 Seaforth and Sutherland, and a large reinforcement 
 in the clan Eraser, with several men belonging to 
 Moray and Caithness. 
 
 Besides this considerable force, the regular troops 
 commanded by Hurry were well-disciplined and
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 125 
 
 drilled men-at-arms. The Marquis therefore see- 
 ing that he had a well -provided army opposed to 
 him, would gladly have avoided a battle, but he 
 dared not do so, hearing that Baillie, with a far 
 larger body of men, was on his road to the Spey, 
 prepared to intercept his retreat should he attempt 
 one. 
 
 It is the peculiarity of all greatness of mind to 
 rise to an emergency. Montrose might well doubt 
 the issue, but he did not shirk a battle. He com- 
 mitted the fate of his little band to Providence, and 
 prepared for the enemy's assault. 
 
 He drew up his men in a valley between the town 
 and a few small hills behind. The ruEj-eed ascent of 
 the hill upon which the hamlet was built he turned 
 to advantage by stationing on it a few pieces of 
 cannon, telling his men to entrench themselves in a 
 number of dykes that ran along its side. 
 
 Allaster Macdonald and his men he stationed 
 near some uneven ground opposite the enemy's left 
 wing, telling him to maintain that secure position, 
 and act as a reserve in case of need. 
 
 To the brave Colkeitoch he confided the royal 
 standard, a large yellow flag, intending to mislead 
 his antagonists by inducing them to attack the 
 place, which the Marquis knew was impregnable, if 
 steadily kept by Macdonald's brigade.
 
 126 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 Sir John Hurry, seeing the standard displayed, 
 did exactly as Montrose had anticipated ; and Col- 
 keitoch, roused by the attack to fury, forgot his 
 general's orders, left his position, and was instantly 
 beset and almost enclosed by a large body of the 
 enemy's foot and horse. 
 
 The battle raged loud and fiercely ; but unfor- 
 tunately for Macdonald, he had exchanged ninety 
 of his veteran Irish for the same number of men 
 under Lord Gordon, just as the fighting com- 
 menced. 
 
 AUaster was forming his men in battle array, 
 Avhen a message was brought him from Lord 
 Gordon. 
 
 ' Macdonald,' said the missive, ' there was once a 
 bond between your ancestors and mine. The bond 
 said that our forefathers should strike no blow at 
 each other, whatever might be the quarrel between 
 the other parts of the realril. None excelled our 
 forefathers in renown ; let us therefore, by exchang- 
 ing men, renew this bond, on this the first day's 
 fight, beneath this banner, for my country and my 
 King!' 
 
 The few fighting men sent him by Lord Gordon 
 were but a sorry exchange for his own trusty 
 veterans. They were principally young recruits, 
 and it needed all AUaster's great heroism to pre-
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 127 
 
 vent their dispersion ; for, ill at ease, they did not 
 fight well under their new leader, and Macdonald's 
 men, who were in their rear and van, had to force 
 them to stand the shower of arrows that saluted 
 them from the enemy's quarter. 
 
 Allaster, compelled to sound a retreat to the 
 position that he had so imprudently abandoned, 
 ordered them back to the garden in which Mon- 
 trose had placed them. Protecting himself with a 
 large shield, he fought most gallantly to cover his 
 men's retreat. He parried the spears of the enemy 
 with an immense sword that he wielded with pro- 
 digious strength, and one by one he thrust his 
 attackers back till every one of his men were safe 
 in the garden. Just at that moment his sword — 
 the trusty weapon that had stood him in such good 
 stead — broke in his hand. His brother-in-law, 
 handing him his, fell mortally wounded. 
 
 The conflict was thus proceeding, Colkeltoch fight- 
 ing like a lion, when Montrose, watching the battle 
 from the height on which the village lay, hears a 
 murmur round him. 
 
 * Macdonald is being routed ! his men are in 
 
 flight' 
 
 Quick as lightning Montrose cried out, * Mac- 
 donald is gaining the victory single-handed I' 
 . Lord Gordon stood near him, and Montrose,
 
 128 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 turning to him, cried out, ' What, my Lord ! shall 
 all the Gordons stand by and win no laurels for 
 their clan ? Up, men, and charge the troops Mac- 
 donald has defeated !* 
 
 Montrose's ready wit saved the day. Mingling 
 the ringing sound of the Gordons' war-cry to that 
 of the Macdonalds', ' Traoch eilean!' 'Fraoch 
 eilean!' on rushed the men of Huntly and Strath- 
 bogie, and Hurry's soldiers were driven off the 
 field. 
 
 The loss on the Covenanters' side was tre- 
 mendous. Pursuing their enemy for miles, the 
 Redshanks fought with valour, and slew all they 
 captured. Three thousand of Sir John Hurry's 
 experienced troops were thus scattered by the 
 Cavaliers, while he himself was forced to fly for his 
 life. 
 
 The honours of the day were divided between 
 the Macdonalds and the Gordons ; and Montrose 
 is said to have declared that he had never wit- 
 nessed a scene of greater slaughter, greater valour, 
 nor greater feats of arms, than those performed by 
 Nathaniel Gordon, Ronald Macdonald, and Lord 
 Gordon in that bloody battle of Auldearn. 
 
 Twelve hundred men belonging to Hurry's army 
 were slain, while on Montrose's side the loss was 
 comparatively insignificant, although many were
 
 The Vow of Mo7itrose. 129 
 
 badly wounded. The number of Frasers who were 
 killed at Auldearn was so great, that, without 
 reckoning the unmarried men who fell, it was said 
 that the battle 'made eighty-seven widows alone 
 in the lordship of Lovat.' 
 
 Hurry's army having lost their baggage, provi- 
 sions, and standard, retreated, but in a very dis- 
 orderly manner, to Inverness, where its leader tried 
 a Captain Drummond by court-martial, and shot 
 him, for having purposely led the company he 
 commanded to the wrong side, and for being in 
 communication with Montrose. They tried to fix 
 on Drummond the disgrace of their terrible defeat. 
 
 Very soon after the battle of Inverlochy, Mon- 
 trose had despatched a letter to the King in 
 England. It was very difficult to get letters safely 
 conveved to Charles. To be the bearer of such 
 missives was a service of great danger. A Scottish 
 gentleman named Small, from devotion to Montrose 
 and the royal cause, had volunteered to carry a 
 packet to the Marquis, and succeeded in delivering 
 it. This service was one of danger, and was accom- 
 plished by Small disguised as a beggar. Unhappily 
 his disguise failed him; for, while returning to Eng- 
 land with letters from Montrose to the King, he was 
 betra}-ed to the Covenanters, and hanged at Edin- 
 burgh. His courage well deserved a happier fate.
 
 130 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 The letters that James Small was taking so faith- 
 fully to the King, falling into the wrong hands, 
 betrayed all that unhappy monarch's schemes to 
 his enemies. 
 
 When they found that Montrose was urging 
 Charles to join him in Scotland, they redoubled 
 all their endeavours to crush the Cavaliers. That, 
 however, was by no means an easy task ; for, hav- 
 ing for the fourth time defeated the Covenanters, 
 Montrose perpetually baffled and perplexed their 
 generals with his erratic marches. His perfect 
 knowledge of the Highlands greatly aided him ; and 
 no doubt his ultimate success would have been 
 far greater, but for the fatal habit of the clans- 
 men, of dispersing with their spoils whenever any 
 great raid or battle had been made, fought, or 
 won. 
 
 The Cavaliers were thus constantly exposed to 
 the loss of many men ; and although the deserters 
 invariably returned, Montrose was in consequence 
 frequently at great disadvantage from the uncertainty 
 of retaining his men. 
 
 Soon after, traversing the Spey, Montrose learnt 
 from his scouts the near vicinity of General Baillie, 
 who had rapidly advanced after Sir John Hurry's 
 defeat. 
 
 The latter brave officer was eager again to meet
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 1 3 1 
 
 Montrose in battle, and if he could, to efface the 
 disgrace of his recent defeat. 
 
 The armies of the Covenanters were accompanied 
 on their march by civilians, delegated by the Go- 
 vernment to watch the course of events, and direct 
 them. 
 
 In vain General Baillie urged on those gentlemen 
 that his men were but young recruits, dispirited 
 by Sir John Hurry's defeat ; and that it were better 
 to delay encountering Montrose's veteran soldiers, 
 flushed with victory. He was ordered at all risks 
 to fight. 
 
 The popular leaders were beginning to realize the 
 value of military fame. Even those Highland 
 gentlemen who had hitherto supported the Cove- 
 nant, were wavering at the report of those dazzling 
 exploits performed by the Cavaliers ; and every 
 victory gained by 'the great Marquis' added to the 
 danger of the Presbyterian cause. 
 
 General Baillie was therefore sternly ordered to 
 advance, and fight Montrose. 
 
 Accompanied by Sir John Hurry and the rem- 
 rant of his army, Baillie obeyed. 
 
 As soon as Montrose had ascertained the strength 
 of Baillie's army, he was irresolute in his intention, 
 and halted to consider his position. 
 , The Covenanters had taken a very strong place,
 
 132 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 an almost impregnable pass in a wood called 
 Coelarachie. In numbers, Baillie's men were superior 
 to the royal troops; and when his scouts returned 
 to Montrose, the latter saw from their report how. 
 difficult it would be to dislodge the Covenanters 
 from that position. 
 
 Early next morning, therefore, Montrose sent a 
 trumpeter to Baillie's army to challenge him to a 
 pitched battle. 
 
 He received a haughty, spirited answer: 'Go, tell 
 your master,' said Baillie, ' I will not be ordered by 
 him to fight. I will fight him when and where I 
 choose.' 
 
 The following morning the Covenanters missed 
 their foes. They had rapidly retreated. Although 
 the Covenanters immediately pursued them, no 
 trace of the Redshanks could be found. They were 
 only tracked by their footprints on the heather, 
 which showed that Montrose had once more re- 
 treated into Badenoch. 
 
 There, again, Montrose was at a great advantage 
 over his enemies. The resources of that land were 
 so familiar to him, that he always knew how to 
 procure food for his men. Baillie's troops, on the 
 other hand, had to subsist on the provisions they 
 carried with them ; and when they were eaten, were 
 fain to retire to Inverness for more.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 133 
 
 The long-desired encounter came at last, close to 
 Alford on the river Don. Although the army of 
 Montrose was again strengthened by Lord Huntly's 
 return, accompanied by Aboyne and several of the 
 Gordons, Baillie believed the moment to be advan- 
 tageous for a battle. He learnt that Colkeitoch was 
 absent with a large body of men, recruiting in the 
 north ; and although he knew that the chances of 
 success were doubtful, he was compelled, owing to 
 the rashness of Lord Lindsay, to fight. 
 
 That nobleman was an old friend of Montrose's, 
 but an ardent Covenanter. He had raised a troop 
 of soldiers, and in order to harass Montrose's allies, 
 had ravaged Athol, especially the lands of the. 
 Gordons, and threatened the Marquis of Huntly's 
 fair Castle Bog, then defended by a brave Cavalier 
 named Gordon of Buckie. In order to extricate 
 Lindsay from his position — for he was on the point 
 of being- attacked bv Montrose's men — Baillie 
 thought it expedient to risk the issue of a pitched 
 battle. 
 
 Montrose was standing near the river-side when 
 he was told that BailHe's army were within one mile 
 of Alford. He immediately posted his men on a 
 hill, which had the great advantage of having a 
 marsh full of pits and ditches in its rear, while a 
 steep piece of rising ground hid his own men. The
 
 134 ^-^^ Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 Covenanters then crossed the fords of Don, and 
 proceeded to confront their enemy. The two armies 
 were about equal in numbers, but they were very 
 differently composed. 
 
 BaiUie commanded an army of hired soldiers, 
 mostly raw recruits, who, although ofiicered by 
 many a brave gentleman, did not fight as well as 
 the Cavaliers, who were led to the field by their 
 own chiefs, with a war-cry that spurred them on to 
 deeds of valour. The Highlanders were ready, one 
 and all, to die for their leaders. Among these were 
 the brave Huntly, many a noble Gordon, Glengarry, 
 young Napier, Macdonalds and Grahams. The 
 Redshanks, although by this time a well-drilled, 
 well-disciplined set of men, looked wild and terrific 
 in their motley garbs. 
 
 The Redshanks carried every species of arms, and 
 wore every kind of headpiece and bonnet. Targets 
 and shields of every shape and fashion, and ancient 
 guns and powder-horns, the spoil of many a bloody 
 fray, were borne by these wild and fearless men, 
 who, with claymores in their hands, their dirks by 
 their sides, awaited the Covenanters. 
 
 Whatever stake Montrose had in the battle, to 
 those ignorant but devoted men the issue was 
 simply one of spoil and plunder. Victory to them 
 meant rapine and bloodshed ; but devotion to their
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 
 
 35 
 
 chief was their religion, and as long as each clan 
 was led by its rightful captain, Montrose feared 
 neither desertion.nor failure. 
 
 In the centre of the army, near the King's 
 standard, stood the great Marquis. It was a bright, 
 warm July day in 1645. Baillie's object in fording 
 the river Don had been to station a body of men to 
 prevent Montrose's retreat ; and Baillie's cavalry 
 was commanded by the valiant Lindsay. 
 
 As the Covenanters sighted the Cavaliers, one of 
 their leaders addressed them in spirited terms. 
 
 ' Yonder are our foes,' cried he, raising his arm in 
 the direction of the Royalists. ' It is their custom to 
 make the first attack ; don't let them do so to-day. 
 At them, and at once ! ' 
 
 But before his men could answer and obey, 
 Montrose had advanced ; while almost at the same 
 instant the Gordons charged Lord Lindsay's horse. 
 If the Redshanks were valiant, so were their foes. 
 They met the Gordons' fiery charge with firmness 
 and courage ; and it was not till Lord Gordon and 
 Colonel Nathaniel Gordon had literally fought inch 
 by inch for the ground, that any way was made 
 by the Cavaliers through Lindsay's gallant band. 
 After great slaughter, at last the latter wavered. 
 Montrose bid the reserve of men, commanded by 
 young Napier, to advance. The musquetecrs closed
 
 136 1 he Fiery Cross ; or^ 
 
 on the enemy's horse; and, amid Nathaniel Gordon's 
 cries — ' Soldiers, advance ! throw down your guns, 
 draw your swords and your dirks ; kill these horse- 
 men ; hamstring their horses ; to close quarters ! ' 
 —the Covenanters fairly turned and fled ! 
 
 Two troops of the Presbyterian army having 
 thrue given way, in spite of Baillie's personal exer- 
 tions, the third wavered also. The Gordons fought 
 with desperate bravery, maddened by the sight of 
 a large head of cattle that Lindsay and his men 
 had seized in their country, as well as aroused by 
 Lord Gordon's promise to ' bring Baillie by the 
 throat from the centre of his men J' 
 
 Great was the slaughter. Baillie's foot soldiers, 
 overtaken by the infuriated Gordons, fell beneath 
 their murderous claymores, and but few of the 
 cavalry would have escaped, had not a sad loss 
 taken place in the ranks of the Cavaliers. 
 
 Seizing Baillie by the sword-belt. Lord Gordon 
 had just fulfilled his threat of capturing the great 
 leader of the Covenanters' army, when, pierced by a 
 bullet, the brave and beautiful Cavalier fell mortally 
 wounded to the ground, amid his men. In one 
 moment the shouts of triumph, the cheers of victory, 
 and the Highland cries of battle were hushed, and 
 changed into a long prolonged wail. 
 
 •What!' cried his followers, 'is he dead, — our 
 
 .Jk.-
 
 Death of Lord Gordon.— Page 136, 
 
 'J7
 
 138 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 hero, our darling, our chief! — accursed be the hand 
 that slew him ! fatal the day that has lost us the 
 fairest flower of all our clan !' 
 
 Throwing down their weapons, his followers 
 kissed his fair face, calm, even in death, as it lay- 
 upturned to the blue skies, wan, white, and 
 still ! 
 
 Montrose, sorely as he needed all his energy at 
 that trying moment, to persuade his followers to 
 ensure victory by a vigorous pursuit, mingled his 
 tears with Lord Gordon's followers, who bitterly 
 bewailed his loss. 
 
 This young nobleman possessed a fine heart and 
 mind, and his loss to Montrose was very great 
 indeed. 
 
 Lord Gordon it was, who, despite his father's 
 jealousy, and Lord Lewis's double-dealing, had 
 firmly attached a large number of the Gordons to 
 the King's side. As the great Marquis leant on his 
 sword, gazing on the dead face of him who had 
 been so true a friend, well might he feel that the 
 victory had been dearly won. He had beaten his 
 enemies, but lost his friend. 
 
 As to the' Gordons, nothing could exceed their 
 sorrow, as, accompanied by Lord Aboyne, Mon- 
 trose laid the gallant chieftain's body in a tomb in 
 an old church at Aberdeen.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 139 
 
 They swore, were they 
 
 * Covenanting traitors, 
 Or the brood of false Argyle,' 
 
 to be avenged on those whose arms had killed their 
 ' beautiful and brave ' young lord. 
 
 Lord Aboyne was now heir to Lord Huntly, and 
 although much discouraged by the loss of his 
 brother, volunteered to go into his own country to 
 beat up recruits for the royal cause. The Marquis, 
 while waiting for him and Colkeitoch, who had not 
 yet returned, planned another daring scheme. 
 
 The Scottish Parliament, in spite of the news of 
 the battle of Naseby, beginning to feel their fifth 
 defeat, were much depressed at the sight of the 
 large number of gentlemen who now openly de- 
 clared for Montrose. 
 
 Fever was raging in Edinburgh, so that the 
 Government met at Stirling, where they passed a 
 vote of thanks to General Baillie for his efforts in 
 the north, and despite his defeat at Alford, rein- 
 stalled him in his command. 
 
 The Scottish Parliament were beginning also to 
 see that Montrose coul-d not be crushed without the 
 most determined effort. 
 
 They resolved, therefore, to raise an army of 
 10,000 men, and ordered the authorities throughout 
 the Lowlands to forward all the fighting men that 
 
 K
 
 140 The Fiery Cross; or^ 
 
 could be found to Perth, by the end of the 
 month. 
 
 When he heard that the Parh'ament was assembled 
 at Stirling, Montrose contemplated the daring pro- 
 ject of scattering it by a rapid march on that place ; 
 but when he was told that they were raising so 
 large an army against him, he prudently abandoned 
 the idea, and did all he could to recruit his own 
 forces. 
 
 The Marquis had established his camp in Angus, 
 and ere long w'as joined not only by his cousin 
 Inchbrakie, with fresh troops of attached Athol 
 men, but by Colkeitoch bringing upwards of 1000 
 soldiers. 
 
 Montrose, standing near tjie entrance to the royal 
 camp, watched 700 gallant Macleans, led by their 
 chiefs, Macgregors and Macnabs, defile past, fol- 
 lowed by 500 of the Clanranald men, each well 
 provided with provisions foraged from the enemy's 
 countries on the road. 
 
 The leader noted, however, one youth barely 
 twenty years of age, who carried nothing. Re- 
 proached by Colkeitoch for his remissness, Donald, 
 for so was he called, immediately started off in 
 search of plunder, and in a short time returned with 
 quite enough to maintain the whole -of the Clan- 
 ranald men to whom he belonged ; and thereafter
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 141 
 
 none, it was said, brought more * creachs ' to the 
 camp than this young Highlander. 
 
 All this time Lord Huntly dallied with the royal 
 cause. He held out hopes to Montrose of his join- 
 ing the royal standard, and the influence of his 
 name being alone needed, now that Montrose 
 found himself at the head of an army of from 4000 
 to 5000 men, the Covenanters totally defeated, and 
 the Parliament baffled. Still Lord Huntly lingered. 
 Llontrose had sent Lord Aboyne at the head of 
 2000 clansmen, to guide Lord Huntly to his 
 camp ; but still he came not. 
 
 Chafing at the delay, Montrose crossed the River 
 Tay, and took up fresh quarters in the forest. 
 
 He was only five miles from Perth ; and when 
 news of his dangerous vicinity reached the Cove- 
 r.anters of that city, — at which place the Scottish 
 Parliament was now assembled, the plague having 
 reached Stirling, — great was the alarm. They 
 imagined that Montrose intended an immediate 
 assault upon the town. 
 
 The authorities were all in favour of flight, and 
 entreated the heads of the Parliament to adopt that 
 course. Fortunately they did not follow the advice ; 
 for Montrose, without cavalry, had no intentions 
 of trying to take the place. Although, by a clever 
 stratagem, he contrived to make them believe he
 
 142 The Fiejy Cross; or, 
 
 
 
 had a large number of horsemen at rommand, he kept 
 aloof for several days in daily hope of Lord Aboyne's 
 return with reinforcements. It was not for a day or 
 two that the Covenanting troops found out how the 
 Marquis had tricked them. Then they unlocked 
 the city gates and sallied out in pursuit of their 
 foe, who, however, by that time had retreated 
 towards the hilly country by the fords of Almond. 
 A band of volunteers, about 300 Presbyterians, con- 
 tinued to pursue the Cavaliers long after their leaders 
 had seen how hopeless was the effort to overtake 
 them. They even contrived to considerably annoy 
 Montrose's rearguard. 
 
 Led by a brave man named Cornell, the Cove- 
 nanters had seized several baggage horses belong- 
 ing to the Cavaliers, when a shot from one of the 
 Redshanks ended his career, and allowed Montrose 
 to retreat in good order towards Dunkeld. 
 
 The Covenanters did not retreat, however, before 
 Montrose gave them a signal lesson. He chose 
 twenty of the best shots in his army, and bid them 
 ' check the insolence of their pursuers.' 
 
 The men chosen, accustomed to bring down the 
 deer of their mountains, found no difficulty, under 
 cover of some brushwood, in shooting down many of 
 the finest of the Covenanters' soldiers. One by one 
 they dropped to the ground pierced to the kcarc
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 143 
 
 by such unerring marksmen ; while, hurried and 
 affrighted, the others not only abandoned their pur- 
 suit, but fled precipitately into Perth. 
 
 As ill luck for the Cavaliers would have it, on 
 their way back they passed through Methven Forest. 
 There they lighted upon the wives and women of the 
 Irish and Highlanders of Montrose's army, who had 
 been left behind, and in the most brutal manner put 
 every one of them to death in cold blood. 
 
 At last, outside Dunkeld, where Montrose had 
 pitched his camp, almost in sight of his enemy's army, 
 he received some reinforcements from the north ; but 
 he was much disappointed when he found that their 
 number only amounted to three hundred and twenty. 
 However, as several loyal Highland gentlemen of 
 good position had joined him at the same time, — 
 among them Alexander Ogilvie of Inverquharity, a 
 youth as illustrious by his bravery and talents as by 
 his ancient descent, — Montrose determined to again 
 put his ' fortunes to the touch,' and attack the 
 Covenanters. His scouts, charged to ascertain their 
 exact position, brought him back word that his foes 
 had crossed the River Earn, and were in full retreat. 
 The Marquis, preceded by Colonel Nathaniel 
 Gordon and Sir William Pollock, who led a small 
 force to clear the way, set off to Kinross, determined 
 to induce the enemy to meet him in open battle.
 
 144 The Fiery Cross; or. 
 
 On the road, the small band of Cavaliers who 
 preceded Montrose fell in unexpectedly with two 
 hundred of the enemy. The Royalists had reduced 
 their number to twelve men, having sent all the rest 
 of their band off to scour the land before them for 
 news of the enemy. The inequality of their numbers 
 was very great, for they were only twelve against 
 nearly two hundred. One moment's reflection 
 showed the Cavaliers that retreat was impossible ; 
 and therefore planting themselves against a hill, they 
 met the enemy's attack with so much valour, that 
 they put the Covenanters to flight, and even took 
 several prisoners. 
 
 After such a brilliant exploit, you may be sure the 
 dauntless band when they reached the main army 
 were praised by shout and cheer. 
 
 Montrose knew that most of the Fife men were 
 firmly attached to the Presbyterian religion, and 
 consequently devoted to the Covenanters' cause. 
 He therefore dreaded the possibility of General 
 Baillie's army being reinforced before he could 
 induce him to meet him on the battle-field. 
 
 Closely followed by Baillie's army, yet ravaging 
 
 the land as he tramped along after leaving Fife, in 
 
 which country he despaired of a battle, the Marquis 
 
 passed Stirling and encamped at Kilsyth. 
 
 ■ His principal object in crossing the Fortli had
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 145 
 
 been to draw nearer to the English border, where he 
 still cherished the hope of joining the King. 
 
 Such a junction seemed the unfortunate monarch's 
 last remaining chance. Naseby had been fought 
 and lost, and the Marquis's whole heart was set on 
 the scheme of seeing Charles head the royal cause in 
 Scotland in person, and save at least his Scottish 
 crown. 
 
 The Covenanters, after marching close upon his 
 rear, crossed the Carron, and taking a short cut 
 encamped close to Kilsyth. 
 
 Argyle himself partly commanded the large 
 Covenanting army, seven thousand strong, that now 
 awaited the encounter, but Baillie was its nominal 
 and discontented leader. He had rebelled against 
 the dictation to which Argyle's presence, and that of 
 the committee appointed by the Estates, subjected 
 him. He had resigned his command in disgust, but 
 had consented, from patriotic motives, to retain it 
 another fortnight. The very day that the rival forces 
 were brought face to face, Baillie's fortnight expired. 
 
 He was an honest and good soldier, and had 
 openly expressed his disapproval of Argyle's inter- 
 ference. He was therefore in no temper to hide it 
 when the latter asked his advice as to the next step 
 to be taken. When he saw the superiority of 
 Montrose's position, sheltered behind some cottages
 
 1 46 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 and gardens, Baillie again declared that his mind 
 misgave him as to the advisability of fighting. 
 
 ' If the rebels engage us there,' he said, * they will 
 have the advantage ; and to lose the day is to lose 
 the kingdom ! ' 
 
 He was overborne by the arguments of others, 
 and forced to carry out Argyle's orders. Reluctantly 
 he ordered his men to advance towards the hill on 
 which the great Marquis had drawn up his Cavaliers 
 in battle array. 
 
 Up to the last moment, Montrose had been un- 
 decided about fighting ; but when he saw that, 
 although the Covenanters had a great advantage in 
 numbers, his position was unquestionably the better, 
 he hesitated no longer. 
 
 'We have,' he exclaimed, 'the best ground, and 
 that is more than half the battle.' 
 
 Standing on a little raised mound' surveying the 
 Highlanders, — a gallant band indeed, and ready for 
 any deed of daring, — the royal banner flying, his 
 blood bounding through every vein, as he thought 
 that were he to win another battle he should see his 
 King righted at last, the face of Montrose paled, for 
 he heard a murmur among his tartaned bands. 
 
 * What is it ? what ! is it possible } can they fear 
 those mounted Covenanters whose glittering breast- 
 plates flash in the sun before them ? ' — for the first of
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 147 
 
 Baillie's regiments planted opposite the Redshanks 
 was one of dragoons. ' By heavens ! they do,' he 
 cried, as loud murmurs strike upon his ear that they 
 fear to attack ' iron-clad soldiers,' on whom ' no 
 claymore could avail.' 
 
 To hesitate were to lose ground ; and in a moment 
 Montrose had hit upon an expedient to allay this 
 new difficulty. ' Clansmen,' cried he, — his sweet 
 voice rising loud and clear, — 'you have beaten 
 yonder cowards at Tippermuir, Auldearn, and 
 Alford ; their officers dare not lead them against 
 you except in coats of mail. A Highlander who 
 meets his foe on Scottish ground needs no such 
 iron coverings. Let us show our contempt of them 
 by fighting them in our shirts ! ' 
 
 Setting them the example, he bid them strip to 
 the waist ; and in a few minutes the Cavaliers, 
 divested of all cumbersome clothing, were prepared 
 to make the assault. 
 
 Montrose's ' pluck ' struck the right chord. Not 
 content with taking off their upper garments and 
 turning up their shirt sleeves, the foot soldiers 
 actually stripped themselves to the shirt, and pre- 
 sented to the astonished Covenanters the novel 
 spectacle of a nearly naked army ! 
 
 The first movement made by the Covenanters 
 was towards some gardens in. which Montrose had
 
 148 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 planted some of his advanced guard. They were 
 repulsed by the gunners, who, stationed behind walls 
 and fences, fired hotly on their assailants. A loud 
 shout from the Redshanks greeted this first turn of 
 victory in their favour. 
 
 A gallant but imprudent youth named Donald, 
 son of the chief of the Clanranald clan, was carried 
 away by the enthusiasm of the moment. Waving 
 his claymore, he leapt past the Macleans, — who 
 being more obedient soldiers, had hesitated before 
 attacking the enemy without their general's orders, — 
 and, followed by all his men, met the enemy face to 
 face, and hand to hand. 
 
 This adventurous band was followed by the 
 Macgregors, headed by their chief Patrick, a warrior 
 so brave that he was also called ' Caoch,' a Gaelic 
 word signifying great valour, while Colkeitoch and 
 his band followed more slowly. 
 
 Montrose knit his brows angrily when he saw his 
 Redshanks thus fighting before they had received 
 his orders ; but as he marked their courage and 
 bravery, he forgave them their disobedience in 
 sympathizing with their enthusiasm. 
 
 The battle of Kilsyth would have turned out a 
 defeat instead of a victory for the Royalists, had not 
 Montrose's ready wit again saved his cause. Look- 
 ing eagerly after his rash Highlanders, he saw that
 
 The Vow of Montrose. _ 149 
 
 they must be cut to pieces were not they instantly 
 supported. The Covenanters were brave soldiers 
 too ; moreover, they were double the nurnber of 
 their assailants. The Cavaliers, compelled to fight 
 up a hill, were on the point of being overmatched 
 and slain, when Colkeitoch rushed to their aid. 
 Even his valuable assistance was but small in com- 
 parison with their necessity. The slowness with 
 which Baillie's rear came forward to the aid of the 
 van of his forces, the only part of his army engaged 
 at that time, aided the Marquis in collecting his 
 ideas. He saw that the remainder of his regiments 
 hesitated to obey his eager commands that his Red- 
 shanks should be reserved. 
 
 Montrose went hastily up to the aged Earl of 
 Airlie, who was standing at the head of the Ogilvies. 
 
 * My lord,' said he, ' you see the scrape into which 
 yonder mad youths have fallen by their precipitate 
 valour. All men's eyes are fixed on your lordship, 
 for your rank entitles you to precede all others in 
 showing foolhardy youth that discretion and valour 
 united to age can redeem the day.' 
 
 The venerable Earl, a model of loyal fidelity, 
 immediately undertook the commission. Followed 
 by all the Ogilvies, and guarded by a troop of horse, 
 he led his men to the charge. 
 
 Their vigorous attack completely routed the
 
 150 The Fiery Cross. 
 
 enemy's infantry, which fell back in great confusion. 
 The rest of the Cavaliers no sooner saw the rebels 
 waver, than they rushed forward and completed the 
 victory. The Covenanters were pursued for miles 
 by the victorious Cavaliers. The banks and braes 
 of the roads along which the Covenanters fled 
 were stained with blood. The Redshanks gave no 
 quarter, and between 5000 and 6000 of the enemy 
 were slain. As they fled towards Stirling or the 
 sea, they fell by hundreds beneath their adversaries' 
 claymores. Montrose's loss was but small in com- 
 parison ; though so bloody was the day, that for a 
 hundred and fifty years after the battle of Kilsyth, it 
 was recorded among the peasantry as the most fatal 
 of all in that memorable war. The Cavaliers spared 
 few lives that dreadful day ; but at Montrose's 
 express orders several prisoners of distinction were 
 saved from death, and those he treated well, and 
 after a time released. For the third time, Argyle 
 owed his life to a boat. Flying to a little port 
 called Queensferry, he reached a vessel anchored in 
 the Firth of Forth, and hurriedly put out to sea. 
 Never was a victory more complete than that of 
 Kilsyth, and perhaps during the whole of the Scot- 
 tish civil wars, none more bloody. The shouts of 
 his vindictive soldiery, as they butchered the flying 
 fo^ were borne back to Montrose.
 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ' Let no man to more love pretend 
 Than he has hearts in store ; 
 True love begun shall never end. 
 Love one and love no more.' 
 
 — Marquis of Montrose. 
 
 •I^^^EFORE pursuing the romantic history of 
 Montrose, or contrasting his victorious 
 position after the battle of Kilsyth with 
 former apparently hopeless fortunes, when, dis- 
 guised as a groom, he had crossed the border with 
 only three companions to invade a kingdom, we 
 must turn and see what the unfortunate Charles, for 
 whom he was fighting, was doing in England. 
 
 Cromwell, invincible by his clear intellect and 
 masterly policy, as much as by his personal courage, 
 was subduing one after the other, every town, castle, 
 or fortified house that still held out for the King. 
 The hopes of the Royalists fell with the battle of 
 
 i5f
 
 152 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 Naseby ; and the course of events all tended towards 
 the fall of the monarchy in England. Charles had 
 fled into Wales, before taking refuge afterwards at 
 Oxford, and was slowly forming the fatal resolution 
 of throwing himself on the mercy of the Scots. The 
 unfortunate King still fondly believed that their 
 ancient affection to his family and crown would 
 revive at the evidence that he believed their loyalty 
 would prove stronger than their fanaticism. 
 
 The Covenanters, however, saw only in Charles 
 the First a chief obstacle to the darling idea of all 
 its Calvinistic adherents, and that was, that were 
 the monarchy overthrown, the Presbyterian faith 
 would become universal in England as well as in 
 Scotland. The Covenanters laid siege to Newark, 
 which still held out for Charles, a large army 
 having been sent from Scotland to the aid of the 
 Parliament. 
 
 While Charles was therefore slowly but surely 
 rushing to the saddest doom that ever befell an 
 English king, Montrose, after Kilsyth, found him- 
 self on the road to the attainment of the object 
 for which he had taken up arms, and unfurled the 
 royal standard in Scotland. That object was to 
 clear the whole of the north by his arms, and so 
 prepare the way for its recovery by his sovereign. 
 
 The Covenanters in Scotland were, for the
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 153 
 
 moment, completely vanquished. Two of their 
 foremost men had fled to Ireland; Argyle and 
 others had taken refuge in Berwick, a strongly 
 fortified place ; and although Montrose had laid 
 waste the land, the whole of Scotland rang with 
 his praises. His cruelty in many cases — for even 
 his best friends acknowledged he had sometimes 
 been cruel — was forgotten in his success ; while his 
 resolution and firmness, his patience and virtues, 
 were extolled, till, from being held up to public 
 abhorrence, he was magnified and flattered into a 
 hero. After the battle of Kilsyth he was openly 
 acknowledged as Charles's representative in Scot- 
 land, and many influential noblemen, who up to 
 that time had not only held back from the royal 
 cause, but even openly sided with the Covenanters, 
 now flocked round Montrose to pay him court, and 
 to offer him their support. 
 
 The plague was raging in Edinburgh, and the 
 news of the loss of the battle of Kilsyth struck con- 
 sternation into the hearts of all its citizens. Well 
 had they reason to dread Montrose, for the capital 
 had been the principal focus of rebellion, while im- 
 prisoned in its Tolbooth were several of the hero's 
 dearest friends. 
 
 After marching to Glasgow, the first thought of 
 Montrose was to release those prisoners. Had it
 
 154 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 not been for the risk of exposing his men to the 
 disease then raging in the city, he would have 
 marched to Edinburgh directly after the battle of 
 Kilsyth. 
 
 Montrose only remained a few days at Glasgow ; 
 but during his visit there, the citizens vied with each 
 other m abject politeness. They presented him 
 with a large sum in gold ; and the hero, anxious to 
 propitiate his newly-found adherents, and fearful lest 
 his Highland followers should be tempted to plunder 
 the wealthy citizens, soon marched out again. 
 
 He encamped at a place called Bothwell Moor, 
 about twelve miles from Glasgow. Charles, after 
 visiting Raglan Castle and Hereford, had now 
 reached Oxford, whence he sent off two trusty 
 messengers to Montrose. One was a President 
 Spottiswoode, the other an Englishman named 
 Sandilands. These trusty messengers had been 
 compelled to take a most circuitous route to avoid 
 falling into the enemy's hands ; and the bearer of 
 his royal master's commission to the Marquis of 
 Montrose, to act as ' Lieutenant - Governor, and 
 General of all His Majesty's forces' in Scotland, Sir 
 •Robert Spottiswoode, who was devotedly attached 
 to the King, had reached Glasgow from Wales by 
 the Isle of Man, the Highlands of Scotland, and 
 through Athol.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 155 
 
 The royal commission was formally presented to 
 the Marquis at a review of his whole troops, under 
 the royal standard. Montrose was also empowered 
 in the King's name to convene a Parliament at 
 Glasgow. 
 
 In the meantime, Montrose had sent two of his 
 most attached adherents, the Master of Napier and 
 Colonel Nathaniel Gordon, to summon Edinburgh 
 to release the Royalist prisoners, and submit to the 
 King. 
 
 The Lieutenant's deputies were supported by the 
 persuasive presence of a party of warriors, who, 
 should the capital resist, were ordered to employ the 
 arguments of ' fire and the sword ' to bring it to 
 reason. 
 
 No such harsh measures, however, were needed. 
 The prisoners, among whom were the Earl of Craw- 
 ford, the gallant Lord Ogilvie, and several others 
 eminent for loyalty, were instantly released the 
 moment the Edinburgh authorities heard of young 
 Napier's errand. 
 
 The Cavaliers did not enter Edinburgh for fear of 
 the plague, but sent a message to the town, command- 
 ing it to surrender. 
 
 Such was the dread inspired by the very name of 
 Montrose at that time, that no servility seemed too 
 great to those poor bewildered burghers to show 
 
 L
 
 156 The Fiery Cross ;. or; 
 
 their prisoners. Those whom they had but so lately 
 treated most severely were implored to intercede for 
 them to the King's lieutenant 
 
 Their two principal prisoners, Lords Crawford and 
 Ogilvie, advised them to submit unconditionally to 
 Montrose, and to send two delegates to the hero's 
 camp to plead their cause. 
 
 The citizens took their advice, and, accompanied 
 by Lords Crawford and Ogilvie, set off to- the 
 Cavaliers' quarters. 
 
 The Master of Napier on his road to Edinburgh 
 had released several of his own relations, among 
 them his father, wife, and sisters, on whom the 
 Scottish Government had wreaked their vengeance 
 against the royal cause. 
 
 Those unfortunate prisoners, highly delighted 
 when the Master of Napier released them at Linlith- 
 gow, all went back to Montrose. 
 
 No one could be more gracious in the hour of 
 triumph than Montrose. Instead of reproaching the 
 Edinburgh delegates, he told them that, provided 
 they were loyal for the future, and gave up Edin- 
 burgh Castle and all its arms and ammunition to 
 the King, as well as releasing all their prisoners, 
 he would intercede for them with their naturally 
 indignant sovereign. The deputies were perfectly 
 ready to promise all should be performed as Mon-
 
 The Voiv of Montrose. 157 
 
 trose wished. They acted according to that pro- 
 mise just as long as the royal influence was in the 
 ascendant, and no longer ; for at heart they were 
 rank Covenanters, far from sincere in their professions 
 of loyalty to Montrose and his cause. 
 
 In the meantime, Montrose had sent Colkeitoch 
 and Drummond of Balloch to quell a rising among 
 the western Covenanters, under the Lords Cassilis, 
 Eglinton, and Glencairn. 
 
 When, however, the Cavaliers reached the west of 
 Scotland, they found that, far from offering resistance, 
 the counties of Ayr and Renfrew were all anxious to 
 seal past offences, and take the oath of allegiance. 
 
 Many who had been red-hot rebels were among the 
 most forward in their offers to Montrose ; and none 
 greeted Colkeitoch, lately knighted by Montrose, 
 more warmly than the Countess of Loudon, whose 
 husband was one of the first supporters of the 
 Covenant. 
 
 She feasted him with the best her castle could 
 afford, and sent her own servant back with a formal 
 message of respect to the Marquis. Indeed, this 
 lady's conduct illustrates thp effect produced all over 
 Scotland by the battle of Kilsyth. The Marquis had 
 thus every reason to expect success in his cherished 
 idea of joining the King on the border. There he 
 knew he could count on the assistance of several
 
 158 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 devoted English Cavaliers, such as Sir Marmaduke 
 Langdale, Sir Richard Hutton, high-sheriff of York- 
 shire, and his relative Colonel Anthony Byerlcy, in 
 Durham. The last-named gentleman had indeed 
 already mortgaged his estates to raise a regiment 
 long called the * Byerley bull-dogs ' for the service of 
 the King. 
 
 Two things now occurred to make the success of 
 such a plan doubtful. Argyle and the leaders of 
 the Presbyterian party, although no longer the idols 
 of their nation, were bent on one more struggle to 
 destroy Montrose. Shut up in Berwick, they had 
 hailed with delight the arrival of General Leslie at 
 the head of his famous cavalry, numbering six 
 thousand strong. 
 
 This general had been summoned by the Cove- 
 nanters to redeem, if possible, the Presbyterian 
 cause. He was no mean adversary, for at the battle 
 of Marston Moor it was his troop that partly won 
 the day. 
 
 Montrose by this time had already sent the 
 Marquis of Douglas and Lord Ogilvie into Dumfries- 
 shire to raise fresh levies for the King. Perhaps, 
 had it not been for the advice of several insincere 
 friends, who, although they were Royalists by pro- 
 fession, were Covenanters at heart, our hero might 
 still have saved Charles by hurrying to the border
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 159 
 
 before Leslie had had time to reach Berwick. But 
 he waited, and the opportunity vanished with the 
 delay. 
 
 In the meantime, Colkeitoch and his Highlanders 
 deserted the royal standard. 
 
 It was the clansmen's custom to return home after 
 victory, for the twofold purpose of securing their 
 spoil, and chanting their success among their own 
 people ; but Montrose knew that to lose such a 
 large portion of his troops at that critical moment, 
 would go far to rob his recent success of its fruits. 
 
 Although in the hour of battle none were so 
 faithful to him, Montrose's fame suffered much from 
 his wild and lawless Redshanks. As they were 
 unpaid soldiers, the Marquis was often compelled to 
 permit several derelictions of martial law in his 
 Highland followers. 
 
 He now used every argument to persuade them 
 to remain ; but though Macdonald, who volunteered 
 to lead them home, promised their speedy return, 
 Montrose, with his usual acuteness, saw that beneath 
 this desertion there was a deeper purpose, and that 
 the reason alleged by the Athol men, that they 
 must return to repair their dwellings, burnt and 
 injured by the Covenanters, was a mere subterfuge. 
 Nor was he wrong. Allaster Macdonald, now 
 knighted, was longing to go into Argyle's country.
 
 i6o The Fiery Cross; or. 
 
 He burned to revenge the ancient injuries the 
 Campbells had inflicted on his race ; and, find- 
 ing that he could now command a large band, 
 thought the moment for revenge of private wrongs 
 might well be seized. 
 
 Montrose watched his departure, followed by six 
 hundred and twenty men, five hundred of whom 
 were his own clansmen ; and as they left his camp, 
 his eye rested upon his once faithful ofificcr for the 
 last time. They never met again, those two brave 
 men ; and with Colkeitoch's departure, the royal 
 cause began to fail in Scotland. 
 
 This desertion was soon followed by another. 
 Lord Aboyne, under pretence of convoying his 
 father. Lord Huntly, safely to Montrose, insisted 
 on retiring to the Highlands with all the Gordons. 
 
 Had Huntly, whose very name was powerful 
 beyond the Grampians, been above the petty 
 jealousy which from first to last hindered him from 
 joining the Marquis, the result of the civil wars of 
 Scotland had been different ; and Charles the First 
 safe among his faithful Highlanders, the crime of 
 regicide might even then have been spared to 
 England. 
 
 It must have been but with very dim hopes of 
 success that Montrose at last started for the border. 
 In vain had he, with all his persuasive eloquence,
 
 The Vow of Montrose. i6i 
 
 tried to retain Lord Aboyne if ' only for one week 
 loneer.' That nobleman, for some hidden reasons of 
 his own, however, was bent on going home ; and 
 after seeing Macdonald and the Athol men march 
 off, the Marquis had to confront the fact when the 
 Gordons too had departed. Independent of the 
 Ogilvies, a small but faithful band, and the Irish 
 brigade, about five to seven hundred in number, his 
 army was no longer a well-disciplined one, but a 
 mere mob of untried recruits. 
 
 Nevertheless, he set off and joined Douglas and 
 Ogilvie, marching past Edinburgh and through the 
 Lothians, till he reached Dumfriesshire. Douglas 
 and Ogilvie had been very unsuccessful in their 
 expedition in the southern part of Scotland, for 
 the greater number of its inhabitants were devoted 
 to the Covenant, and violently opposed to the 
 monarchy. 
 
 Doubtless, as Montrose marched along, he hoped 
 to hear that either Charles himself, or Digby, Earl 
 of Bristol, who had always strenuously promoted 
 the Marquis's cause at Court, was ready to effect a 
 junction with him ; for numerous letters had passed 
 between Charles and his Scottish lieutenant, in all 
 of which the latter was urged to rely on the loyalty 
 of the border lords, and to expect *a party of horse' 
 frpm England.
 
 1 62 The Fiery Cross; or^ 
 
 Charles, irresolute and wavering, had lost by his 
 want of firmness his last chance. While intending 
 to meet Montrose, he had lingered recruiting at 
 Doncaster, and even missed an excellent opportunity 
 of intercepting Leslie while on his northward road. 
 
 Now Leslie was close to Montrose with a splendid 
 troop of cavalry ; and the Marquis, deserted by his 
 Highlanders, was advancing, in the vain hope of 
 meeting the King. 
 
 Perhaps, after so many brilliant victories, our 
 hero may have been too confident of success, and 
 neglected the usual precautions of war ; at any rate, 
 Leslie was close upon him, while Montrose, busy in 
 despatching letters to the King, was falsely assured 
 by his scouts no enemy was to be seen. 
 
 On the Cavaliers' road south they had met the 
 Earl of Traquair, a nobleman secretly attached to 
 Argyle's party, although at that time professing 
 devotion to the royal cause. 
 
 Unaware of his real sentiments, and misled by his 
 professions, Montrose confided to Traquair all his 
 plans ; and while the latter promised to keep him 
 informed of Leslie's movements, he had treacher- 
 ously determined to betray them. 
 
 Traquair also, to mask his real sentiments, sent 
 Montrose a troop of horse, under his eldest son, 
 Lord Linton.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. i6 
 
 J 
 
 Montrose was much disappointed that the Lords 
 Home and Roxburghe neither sent messages to him 
 as he passed through their country, nor invited him 
 to their houses. 
 
 The Marquis, in no mood to overlook a sh'ght, 
 was on the point of paying them a visit, with every 
 intention of enforcing their adherence to the royal 
 cause by the sword, when he heard that they had 
 been carried off as prisoners by Leslie. 
 
 This was nothing but a ruse on the part of those 
 noblemen ; for they had prevailed on Leslie to take 
 them prisoners, purposely to avoid the wrath of 
 Montrose, and at the same time to keep in both 
 with the Covenanters and Cavaliers. 
 
 Finding that no reinforcements reached him from 
 Charles, and that the border lords were so tardy and 
 indeed averse to joining him, Montrose determined 
 to abandon his scheme and retreat to the Highlands. 
 
 He therefore marched to Jedburgh, and thence to 
 Selkirk, and at length encamped on the plain of 
 Philiphaugh, where, being sheltered by a wood, he 
 fondly hoped that the camp was protected from a 
 surprise. 
 
 Misled by Traquair's perfidy, — for, instead of 
 sending Montrose word of Leslie's whereabouts, that 
 nobleman has been accused of sending word to the 
 Covenanters of the Marquis's weakness in point of
 
 164 The Fiery Cross; or^ 
 
 numbers, and his intention of retreating to the 
 Highlands, — our hero, instead of remaining with 
 the main body of his army, took up his own quarters 
 in a village on the opposite side of the river, in com- 
 pany with Lords Napier, Airlie, and Crawford. 
 
 Unfortunately for the Cavaliers, a dense mist 
 favoured General Leslie's advance, and prevented 
 the Royalists from seeing his approach. 
 
 The Covenanters, guided by a peasant, reached 
 the fatal plain of Philiphaugh, along the southern 
 side of the Tweed, across the River Ettrick, and 
 were almost between Montrose's headquarters and 
 his camp before the latter even knew they were in 
 that part of the country. 
 
 Unmindful of danger, and his heart still bent on 
 joining the King, Montrose had sat up the whole of 
 the previous night engaged in writing despatches to 
 urcre Charles to send him instant help. Personal 
 supervision of his soldiers being impossible that 
 night, the Marquis had confided the duty of posting 
 the sentinels to his captains, while the first sound of 
 firing next day that struck upon his ear, as Leslie's 
 trumpets sounded, and his brigades attacked the 
 Royalists, came too late to save him. All the 
 honour he had won at Kilsyth, and the position he 
 had gained, was fated to vanish away in the mists of 
 Philiphaugh.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 1 6 5 
 
 He flung himself upon his horse and rushed to the 
 camp, where he found his soldiers alarmed and sur- 
 prised, and in the greatest disorder. Orders having 
 been given the night before to prepare for a day's 
 march, the Cavaliers, at the moment of the attack, 
 were preparing for the road. 
 
 Half an hour before daybreak, the steel-clad 
 Presbyterian cavalry had attacked the Royalists' 
 right wing. It was a damp September morning, 
 the thirteenth of the month (1645). In spite of 
 those well-disciplined troops having more than half 
 the advantage on their side over Montrose's raw 
 levies, they were at first repulsed. Again, once more 
 the Royalists threw those iron brigades into disorder ; 
 but when they found that as soon as one regiment re- 
 tired another came up, they threw down their arms 
 and begged for quarter, or fled for their lives. 
 
 Hapless Montrose ! In vain, at the head of thirty 
 Cavaliers, principally Scottish gentlemen of noble 
 and gentle blood, he fought with desperate valour — 
 the day was lost beyond redemption. He would 
 have fought on till he fell, had not his friends 
 dragged him from that fatal plain. 
 
 ' Live ! live ! ' cried Douglas, *to redeem the day.* 
 
 It is said that at the very moment Queen Hen- 
 rietta Maria, a fugitive in Paris, was oflering up a 
 thanksgiving for the victory of Kilsyth, its victor
 
 1 66 The Fiery Cross; or^ 
 
 was retreating, and his whole army, except a very- 
 small remnant, slain or prisoners. His way was 
 up the Yarrow, and across Minch Moor towards 
 Peebles, where he rested a few hours. 
 
 Overtaking a regiment of his own men, and re- 
 joined, to his great joy, by Lords Crawford and 
 Airlie, who had escaped by another road, Montrose, 
 broken-hearted yet not despairing, crossed the Clyde, 
 and, at the head of about two hundred men, retired 
 to the Highlands. 
 
 The Covenanters had not only treacherously 
 slaughtered almost the whole of Montrose's Irish 
 brigade, after they had surrendered on the promise 
 of quarter, but amid open rejoicings, in which the 
 canting Calvinistic clergyman quoted Scripture, they 
 executed a numerous company of prisoners, number- 
 ing among them some of Scotland's most honoured 
 names. The royal standards were, however, not 
 destined to fall into their hands, for both were 
 gallantly saved and given back to the * great Mar- 
 quis ' by the brave men who carried them. Two ol 
 the captains of the Irish brigade, named O'Ryan 
 and Lachlin, were reserved for a public execution at 
 Edinburgh, where (when Leslie, returning to Lothian 
 after Philiphaugh, had liberated the leaders of the 
 Covenant shut up in Berwick) their sentence was 
 publicly carried out on the Castle Hill,
 
 71ie Vow of Montrose. 167 
 
 A meaner soul than that animating our hero's 
 body would, crushed by such a blow, have suc- 
 cumbed under fortune and abandoned the King's 
 cause. Not so Montrose. He redeemed the day 
 with noble fortitude. A mind that can support 
 with calmness the blows of fate, ever rises superior 
 to misfortune. 
 
 As he and his sorrowing little band slowly wended 
 their way, Montrose argued thus : ' Are not the 
 Highlanders,' said he, ' the very bones and sinews of 
 the land ? Shall I despair when I can regain all I 
 have lost ? 'Twas but a part of my army who were 
 there. I will never despair of a good cause! By 
 heavens ! no ! ' 
 
 With such thoughts he schemed as he went along, 
 and determined to make another effort for the King. 
 The Marquis of Douglas and Lord Airlie he sent 
 far into Angus to recruit there, and Lord Erskine 
 into Mar for the same purpose. 
 
 Sir John Dalziel, who among all his friends at 
 Philiphaugh had been the most urgent that he 
 should save himself by flight, and who was brother 
 to the nobleman who at Naseby led Charles the 
 First from the field, he sent to Lord Carnegie, urging 
 him to delay no longer, but to join him with all the 
 Carnegies he could muster at his back, 
 
 • Montrose's influence was still powerful witli the
 
 1 68 The Fiery Cross; or. 
 
 Redshanks ; but harvest, although it was late in the 
 year, was still ungarnered, and their houses, they 
 urged, still needed repair ; yet, at the sound of their 
 leader's voice, they could not refuse to follow him. 
 Four hundred enlisted under his banner, and the 
 whole of the Athol country promised him its full 
 support should the royal cause again revive suffi- 
 ciently to enable the Marquis to march southwards. 
 
 Montrose established himself at Braemar, where he 
 did all he could to induce Macdonald and Aboyne, 
 whose desertion had been the primary cause of his 
 disasters, to rejoin him. 
 
 All Montrose's entreaties could not induce the 
 Marquis of Huntly to throw his vast influence into 
 the scale. The Earl of Aboyne indeed promised 
 aid, and later on joined Montrose, but his father 
 kept aloof, unable to forget or to forgive his ancient 
 grudge against the Marquis. 
 
 With his mind harassed and perplexed by the 
 various checks he received, Montrose was plunged 
 into deeper grief by hearing how the Covenanters 
 had massacred a number of helpless women and 
 children of his camp after Philiphaugh, and of the 
 sad fate of the noblemen and gentlemen who had 
 been captured in their flight. 
 
 In the middle of the great distress that Montrose 
 felt at feeling that, do what he could, no effort of
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 169 
 
 his could save these faithful adherents, he received a 
 message from Charles, urging him to rejoin Digby, 
 for that that nobleman had raised a body of horse, 
 and was nearing the border. 
 
 With conflicting feelings Montrose, at the head of 
 about twelve hundred foot and three hundred horse, 
 hurried southwards to save, if possible, by a victory 
 over Leslie, the lives of those who still survived the 
 vengeance of his Covenanters. O'Ryan and Lachlin 
 he knew were already executed ; and Sir William 
 RoUock, having incurred Argyle's displeasure, had 
 also met his doom. 
 
 Aboyne, although accompanied by a very small 
 party of Gordons, none of whom were steady ad- 
 herents, and most of whom deserted from time to 
 time under various excuses, descended into the 
 Lowlands with Montrose ; and towards the end of 
 October our hero was close to Glasgow, where the 
 Covenanters at that very moment were engaged in 
 trying Montrose's friends. 
 
 I say ' trying,' although the word was a mockery, 
 where fanaticism had already decided that death, 
 and death alone, should be the doom of those hap- 
 less men. In vain they defended themselves, as 
 in the case of President Spottiswoode, by bringing 
 Scripture forward in their defence, saying, ' Wouldest 
 thou smite those whom thou hast taken captive with
 
 1 70 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 thy sword and thy bow in the field ?' (2 Kings vi.) 
 The Covenanting clergy would only listen to 
 texts that seemed to sanction the shedding of 
 an enemy's blood, and one after the other the 
 loyalists met their fate. 
 
 Sir Robert Spottiswoode maintained his innocence 
 to the last, and after — in an affecting letter of fare- 
 well — commending his children to Montrose's care, 
 died, as a Christian soldier should, with firmness 
 and heroism, in the early part of January 1646; 
 Montrose having again retreated into the High- 
 lands. 
 
 In spite of the ascendancy obtained by the Pres- 
 byterian clergy over the minds of their fanatic 
 followers, when Sir Robert mounted the scaffold 
 to meet his doom, the crowd below it assembled 
 to witness the murder could not disguise their dis- 
 content ; for the victim was well known to be a 
 most honourable man, and a very learned judge. 
 
 Yet not even could his enemies leave him. alone 
 in his last hour. A Presbyterian minister attended 
 him from the prison to the block. When that 
 person saw the effect that Sir Robert's calm and 
 dignified bearing had produced on the crowd, he 
 turned to the Provost and begged him to order 
 the soldiers to drown his last words with the noise 
 of their drums.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 1 7 r 
 
 Perfectly unruffled, Sir Robert Spottiswoode, when 
 he saw that the Covenanting officials were deter- 
 mined to prohibit him from speaking, calmly drew 
 a paper out of his pocket and threw it to the 
 crowd. It was eagerly picked up and perused, 
 and contained his last speech and address. 
 
 In vain his Presbyterian attendant would have 
 thrust his unwelcome exhortations on the dying 
 man. Sir Robert turned calmly away, and with a 
 pious ejaculation, in which he prayed that his soul 
 might soon be with his ' merciful Saviour,' hastened 
 to meet his dread doom by giving the signal to the 
 executioner to finish his work speedily. 
 
 Such a great example was nobly followed, and 
 most of the Cavaliers afterwards executed met death 
 as calmly and firmly. 
 
 Added to the poignant grief with which Mon- 
 trose's noble heart was torn when he heard of the 
 fate of his friends, our hero felt overwhelmed with 
 the repeated failure of all his attempts to gain 
 over Huntly to his side. 
 
 The chief of the Gordons held back from join- 
 ing Montrose with an obstinate inflexibility that 
 seemed to defy the most persuasive arguments. 
 
 Montrose determined to make another last eftbrt 
 to conciliate Huntly. He first sent two of his 
 friends to see what effect the display of the King's
 
 1 72 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 commission to Montrose would have upon the ob- 
 durate chief. 
 
 The latter, with scornful impatience, flung back 
 all that they urged, when Montrose's messengers 
 showed him Charles's mandate. ' I understand,' 
 cried Huntly, ' the King's business and commands 
 better than do either you or Montrose ! As to 
 Montrose, neither I nor my children will have 
 anything to do with him.' 
 
 The messengers brought back word how ill they ' 
 had succeeded in their mission. The failure of 
 their endeavours did not, however, deter Montrose. 
 As Huntly would not listen to his agents, he de- 
 termined to see him himself 
 
 Before Montrose set off to Gordon Castle, he 
 tried, by sending Sir John Dalziel to Huntly, to 
 avoid thrusting himself into the latter's presence, 
 for our hero well knew that Huntly had neither 
 forgiven nor forgotten his resentment against him. 
 
 Sir John Dalziel, after urging weighty reasons 
 to persuade Huntly to coalesce with Montrose, 
 entreated him to see our hero ; but he could not 
 induce him to consent to a conference, and sent 
 him back to Montrose, who was at that time in 
 Athol. 
 
 Montrose was a man of sudden impulses. Deter- 
 mined to lose no chance of rescuing Charles, he
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 173 
 
 put aside all feelings of pride and resentment, 
 and hastening through deep snows, across the wild 
 regions of the Highlands of Angus, — for it was in 
 the month of December, — he suddenly appeared in 
 Strathbogie. 
 
 Yet even when Huntly heard that Montrose was 
 close to his abode, he was resolute in his determina- 
 tion of avoiding an interview. He fled to a castle 
 on the Spey, and believed himself safe from the 
 presence of Montrose. 
 
 The fact was, that Huntly not only resented the 
 ancient grievance he had against Montrose, but he 
 for other reasons dreaded any explanations with 
 him. There is no one we fear so much to meet 
 as those whom we have ill-treated. The large 
 pieces of artillery that the year before Montrose 
 had buried, to be safe from his enemies, Huntly's 
 sons had surreptitiously dug up and carried off to 
 their own castles, besides appropriating much am- 
 munition taken by Montrose from his enemies. 
 
 Such acts, together with many other circum- 
 stances, such as levying taxes unknown to Montrose, 
 under pretence of continuing the war, had all shown 
 the Marquis that Huntly had made up his mind 
 to defy his authority. 
 
 However, Montrose, bent only on effecting his 
 own end, put aside all his own private feelings,
 
 174 The Fiery Cross ; or^ 
 
 and set off one night with very few attendants, and 
 surprised Huntly by appearing suddenly before him. 
 
 We do not hear from history how these noble 
 Cavaliers met, but the result showed that, in the 
 presence of Montrose's pleading face and eloquence, 
 the great chief's ill-humour vanished. At any rate, 
 all was sunshine between them for the moment. 
 Huntly gave Montrose his hand, and they sat down 
 to plan further operations against the King's oppo- 
 nents. They concerted a system of military action 
 together, and laid plans for besieging Inverness. 
 Montrose, they agreed, was to approach Inverness 
 by Strathspey, Huntly by the sea-coast. 
 
 This apparently friendly understanding between 
 the two rival chiefs highly delighted the Gordons, 
 most of whom were warmly devoted to the royal 
 cause, and had only held back from fear of offend- 
 ing Huntly. We shall see what that nobleman's 
 promises were worth, and how he kept his word 
 with Montrose. 
 
 The Marquis, however, was too loyal a spirit to 
 suspect that their agreement would not be carried 
 out. He set off in high spirits to besiege Inverness, 
 sending Graham of Inchbrakie, and John Drum- 
 mond of Balloch, to take possession of the Athol 
 district, with strict orders that, if any revolt took 
 place, it should be promptly suppressed.
 
 The Vow of Monti'ose. 175 
 
 The Highlanders in those parts were all thoroughly- 
 devoted to the King, and were therefore quite ready- 
 to show their readiness to obey his lieutenants. 
 
 Macdonald, whom none of our hero's efforts had 
 succeeded in drawing back to the royal cause, 
 was waging a war of fire and sword against the 
 Campbells in their own country. Driven by fear 
 of Colkeitoch from the west, many of the latter clan 
 fled into Athol. They were wild, desperate men, 
 who, driven from their own homes, had recourse to 
 violence for the means of subsistence. They joined 
 the Stewarts, Menzieses, and others who were of 
 Argyle's party, and formed a formidable band of 
 fifteen hundred men. 
 
 Their first hostile act was directed against the 
 Macgregors and Macnabs, who had sided with 
 Montrose ; and they then set off to invade Athol. 
 At the head of only seven hundred men, Graham 
 of Inchbrakie met them close to Callander, and 
 after defeating them in battle, forced their anta- 
 gonists to retreat to Stirling, although a great many 
 were slain in their flight. 
 
 Montrose was not so victorious. He was doomed 
 to bitter disappointment. Infuriated at hearing of 
 the death not only of Sir Robert Spottiswoode, but 
 how with unremitting vengeance Argyle and his 
 friends were murdering his friends one after another.
 
 176 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 few escaping — except Lord Ogilvie, who got off by 
 exchanging clothes with his sister — Montrose, after 
 making a vain attempt to engage Leslie in battle, 
 marched to Inverness. 
 
 When Montrose and Huntly agreed to besiege 
 that place, it was ill provided with provisions. 
 From its natural position it seemed inaccessible ; 
 but when Montrose arrived before its castle, he 
 found that the Covenanters had managed to convey 
 into its garrison stores of every kind. Added to 
 his grief for the loss of so many of his friends on 
 the scaffold, Montrose had a difficult part to play 
 with his own immediate followers. 
 
 With fierce and savage cries they entreated Mon- 
 trose to overawe their enemies by a display of 
 cruelty towards the prisoners still in their hands. 
 They openly demanded blood for blood, and would 
 have persuaded Montrose, had that been possible, 
 to treat his captives with as much brutality as the 
 Covenanters had treated their friends. Montrose 
 has frequently been called 'cruel,' but he did not 
 exhibit any claim to the character by the way in 
 which he answered his followers. 
 
 * You are right,' he said to them, * that the blood 
 of honourable and innocent men calls for vengeance ; 
 let us get it not basely, but as becomes valiant 
 soldiers. These men, our prisoners, have nothing
 
 The Vow of Alontrose. 177 
 
 to do with the murders that have been committed. 
 They gave themselves into our hands, beHeving that 
 they might safely rely on our honour to observe the 
 laws of war ; so let us not imitate the bad example 
 set us by the Covenanters, by making promises and 
 breaking them, but only contend with them for 
 bravery and virtue.' 
 
 The importunities of his friends were not more 
 harrowing to our hero's noble spirit than the con- 
 duct of Huntly. Incapable of a base breach of 
 honour, he was slow to realize that, far from carry- 
 ing out his word, Huntly, having crossed the Spey, 
 was trifling his time away in Moray, instead of 
 saving the royal cause by a hearty co-operation 
 with Montrose. 
 
 He could not brook the idea of being second in 
 anything to Montrose. Acting upon the supposi- 
 tion that he was still entitled to proceed by the 
 King's original commission, instead of deferring to 
 the instructions of Montrose, he struck out for him- 
 self an independent line of action, and, wasting all 
 his strength, neglected to guard that part of the 
 country which Montrose had impressed on him the 
 necessity of watching. 
 
 In consequence of Huntly's neglect, the Cove- 
 nanters managed to convey food, arms, and am- 
 munition into Inverness, so that when Montrose
 
 1 y8 The Fieiy Cross ; <?r, 
 
 encamped before it he found the place prepared to 
 resist him. Had it not been for Lord Huntly's 
 want of ijood faith, it had probably surrendered 
 immediately. 
 
 He lay before Inverness for weeks, till at last, 
 hearing that General Middleton was advancing 
 upon him with fourteen hundred well-disciplined 
 men from Aberdeen, he sent an urgent message to 
 Huntly, entreating him either to join him directly ; 
 or, if he preferred it, Montrose proposed to fall back, 
 for he doubted not he would soon overthrow Mid- 
 dleton's army with their united forces. 
 
 Our hero made the last proposition because his 
 scouts had brought him word that the Gordons' 
 country was likely to be wasted and ravaged by 
 the fast approaching enemy, and he doubted 
 Huntly's willingness to leave it unprotected. 
 
 ' Tell Montrose,' was Huntly's scornful reply, ' I 
 need no assistance from him to drive the enemy 
 from my border. I will attend to my own matters 
 myself 
 
 Thus abandoned, in reality if not in words, by 
 the fickle Huntly, no other course remained to 
 Montrose than to retire before his enemy. There- 
 fore, by taking a circuitous route, he and his army 
 regained Strathspey in safety. 
 
 Huntly's defection, sad as it was and fatal to the
 
 The Vow of Hlontrose. 1 79 
 
 royal cause, was not so base and treacherous as the 
 conduct of Lord Lewis Gordon. Under pretence of 
 being anxious to befriend their leader, he beguiled 
 the officers and men left to guard the principal fords 
 of the River Spey, and drew oft all Montrose's scouts 
 to enable Middleton's army to cross safely into 
 Moray. 
 
 The bait took ; and it was only when Lord Lewis 
 had secret intelligence conveyed to him, that he dis- 
 missed the officers from so ill-timed a feast. As 
 they were leaving his castle he jeered at them, and 
 told them they had better hasten to Montrose, * who 
 would have a sharper bout of it than he had had at 
 Selkirk!' 
 
 Fortunately Montrose was not entrapped, as the 
 crafty Gordon had hoped he might be (for, ever 
 changing sides, trusted by neither, that fickle and 
 unprincipled young nobleman had now gone over 
 to Argyle's party) ; and by hurried marches our 
 hero escaped into Strathspey. But Lord Huntly's 
 defection carried weight with it, in spite of the 
 indignation it inspired in the minds of even his 
 own clan. Montrose realized the truth of the pro- 
 verb, that it is difficult to prop up a failing cause ; 
 for such, in spite of the honesty, valour, and devo- 
 tion of many of its adherents, the cause of royalty 
 in Scotland really was.
 
 i8o The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 Huntly, anxious to show that he was acting inde- 
 pendently of Montrose, attacked and took Aberdeen; 
 but the easy conquest of a place more loyal than 
 disloyal to Charles, did the royal cause no good, for 
 Huntly adopted no measures to follow up his success. 
 
 The Earl of Seaforth had been lately brought 
 over to the royal side. When he saw how Huntly 
 was playing Montrose false, the crafty Earl began 
 to think that perhaps he had better make peace 
 with Argyle ; which, in an underhand way, he 
 accordingly did. 
 
 The treachery and desertion of his friends sorely 
 tried our hero's generous spirit. A deeper trial was, 
 however, at hand for Montrose. At the time that 
 he lay before Inverness, Charles, infatuated to the 
 last, was about to take the step that for ever sealed 
 his doom. 
 
 Across the border, along the hills and dales of that 
 heather-clad land, a messenger was speeding with a 
 letter from Charles to Montrose to tell him of his 
 plans. 
 
 But before telling you how Montrose received the 
 news, I must digress to describe the poor King's 
 position in England during all the time our hero was 
 lighting for him in Scotland. 
 
 The Scottish army had marched into England, 
 bent on carrying into execution a coalition with the
 
 The Vow of Montrose. i8i 
 
 English republicans ; not so much because their 
 leaders approved of their contest with Charles, as 
 because they desired to spread the doctrines of the 
 Covenant over the two kingdoms. 
 
 Aided by such powerful allies, the battle of 
 Marston Moor was fought and won ; and in all pro- 
 bability, but for the victories gained by Montrose, 
 the unhappy monarch would have given up the 
 game, as one played out and lost. 
 
 The gleam of hope inspired by the Marquis's 
 success in Scotland deferred the evil hour. Charles 
 temporized, treated, and then broke off negotiations 
 with the Parliament, whose army at that time had 
 passed into the hands of the unscrupulous but able 
 Cromwell. 
 
 After the battle of Naseby, the King took refuge 
 at Oxford. The more moderate leaders, such as 
 Essex and others of the republican party in England, 
 who had taken up arms against their King out of 
 sincere affection to their country, and were unpre- 
 pared to proceed to greater lengths, had been 
 displaced by Oliver Cromwell. Sir Thomas Fairfax 
 was the General, and Cromwell the Lieutenant- 
 general, of the army that defeated Charles at 
 Naseby. 
 
 In vain a Westminster conference for three years 
 had been discussing the forms of worship that
 
 1 82 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 were to replace the time-honoured liturgy of the 
 Reformed Catholic Church of England. The divines 
 assembled there could not agree with the Presby- 
 terians owing to the Independents. That party, who 
 principally composed the army that followed Crom- 
 well, were for entirely abolishing the clerical cha- 
 racter. As they were a formidable sect, and made a 
 powerful stand against any who did not agree with 
 their peculiar views, — which were, that any congre- 
 gation of Christians meeting together formed a 
 Church in themselves, independent of any religious 
 government, — the Scottish Covenanters were begin- 
 ning to see that their principal aim in rebelling against 
 Charles had failed. 
 
 At heart the Scotch have always been loyal ; and 
 although, blinded by fanaticism, they still detested 
 the King's Episcopal views, they were disgusted with 
 their failure, and would have withdrawn from Eng- 
 land, had they not still lingered in hope of securing 
 payment for their services and troops. 
 
 Informed by his spies of the state of matters 
 between the Scots and the English, Charles, almost 
 ruined in purse, with scarcely any army left, formed 
 the fatal resolution of throwing himself on the mercy 
 of the Scotch. 
 
 He fancied that, at the sight of their monarch, the 
 ancient loyalty of the race would revive ; and, on the
 
 The Vow of Mont7'ose. 183 
 
 27th of April 1646, disguised as a postillion, he left 
 Oxford, and after eleven days' travelling presented 
 himself before the Scottish army, then at Newark. 
 
 So imminent was the danger of his falling into the 
 hands of the Parliamentary army, that the monarch 
 of all England, accompanied by only two faithful 
 friends, rode behind the baggage of one of them, the 
 better to escape detection. 
 
 The English Parliament had not calculated on this 
 sudden movement, and proclaimed it to be instant 
 death to any one who should harbour or conceal 
 the unhappy King. The Scots, unprepared for his 
 arrival, for a while treated him respectfully, although 
 virtually he was their prisoner. Before taking so 
 momentous a step, he had written to our hero a 
 letter, dated the i8th of April 1646, in which he 
 declared his motives, and confidence in the Scots, 
 urging Montrose to lose no time in joining him. 
 
 Although externally the King received all due 
 respect when he reached the Covenanters' camp, he 
 had to submit to ill-disguised insolence from the 
 leaders of the party. 
 
 He who had hoped 'for freedom in conscience 
 and honour,' was imperiously requested by the 
 president of the committee, Earl Lothian, 'to 
 sign the Covenant,' and ' bid James Graham lay 
 down his arms.' The King in a dignified manner
 
 184 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 told Lothian, * He who made you an Earl made 
 James Graham a Marquis.' 
 
 It was indeed a hard lot to bear the taunts levelled 
 at him by the fanatics of the Covenant, but Charles 
 Stuart could bear the burden of his fate with 
 grandeur. The anecdote of one of the Presbyterians, 
 when preaching before him, giving out the fifty- 
 second Psalm, is too well known to bear repetition ; 
 but when the King was anxious to give the watch- 
 word himself to the Scottish sentinels, Leslie bluntly 
 told him ' to spare himself the trouble, as he was the 
 elder soldier of the two.' 
 
 Persecution, however, effected the ends of the 
 King's enemies. Although in giving himself up he 
 had bargained for the safety of all who had fought 
 for him during those fearful civil wars, he was not 
 permitted to see his faithful Montrose again. The 
 last concession was wrung from him ; he consented 
 to give up those fortresses still holding out for him, 
 and sent word to the old Lord Worcester to sur- 
 render Raglan Castle to the Puritans. 
 
 The Lord of Raglan was sixty-nine years old, but 
 he had a high and lofty spirit. For weeks the 
 Welsh fortress held out ; till at last, provisions fail- 
 ing. Lord Worcester was compelled to yield to his 
 enemies, and surrender. The last place that held 
 out for Charles the First was Raglan Castle. Its
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 185 
 
 owner left it with the mien of a victor, although 
 he was never again to gaze on its princely halls. 
 His adversary Fairfax could not but admire his 
 heroism. 
 
 The Marquis of Worcester had lost all he pos- 
 sessed for Charles ; but the brave old man bore his 
 misfortunes with dignity and fortitude, — true to his 
 principle, faithful to his King, and believing that 
 ' noblesse oblige.' 
 
 But the fall of Raglan was not till the middle of 
 August 1646, and therefore much later than the 
 period at which his Scottish champion — a cham- 
 pion as true as the Marquis of Worcester — received 
 the news of Charles's ill-advised surrender to the 
 Covenanters. 
 
 One sacrifice more did the Scots still require of 
 Charles. They had taken him to Newcastle, from 
 which place he was forced to write a letter to 
 Montrose, dated the i6th of May 1646, in which he 
 commanded him to disband his army and retire to 
 France. 
 
 When Montrose received the King's letter, he 
 was busily engaged in making preparations to carry 
 on the war. He was doing all that lay in his power, 
 in spite of Huntly's previous conduct, to induce the 
 Gordons to join him. With Charles's letter in his 
 hand, charging him so plainly to give up the contest
 
 1 86 The Fiery Ci^oss ; or, 
 
 and abandon all hope of saving his King, Montrose, 
 downcast, astonished, and dismayed, was sure that 
 such a command had been extorted from, and not 
 freely given by, the King. He felt overwhelmed. 
 How would his soldiers fare if he obeyed } Fear 
 for their fate, anxiety for Charles, and, above all, 
 that unflinching devotion to duty, which from first 
 to last had marked his career, all in turn disturbed 
 his mind ; but at last anxiety and fear for the hap- 
 less prince, no longer a free agent, predominated ; 
 and, actuated by a wish to consult all who had sup- 
 ported the royal cause in Scotland, he resolved to 
 call a great meeting of the Scottish Cavaliers that 
 they might consult together. 
 
 Strange to say, it was Sir John Hurry, a former 
 enemy, who, together with Sir John Innes, were 
 despatched at this critical moment by the Marquis 
 to Huntly. 
 
 Our hero, laying aside in the danger of their 
 common cause all personal feelings, desired his 
 friends, both of whom were on very good terms 
 with Huntly, to tell the chief of the Gordons that 
 he would ' go to his castle ' — * if he thought fit.' 
 
 'The King,' replied Huntly, 'had sent him letters 
 to the same effect. He intended to obey the King's 
 orders. The King's commands were decided ; and 
 there was nothing to consult about'
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 187 
 
 In vain Sir John Hurry and his companion urged 
 that Montrose was as anxious as Huntly to obey 
 his sovereign's commands implicitly, but that he was 
 in doubt ' as to whether or not they had not been 
 extorted from him by force,' and that 'it behoved 
 them all to provide for their adherents.' The 
 peevish Huntly, whose jealousy of Montrose, and 
 lukewarm conduct, had been the main cause that 
 the whole of the north part of Scotland had not 
 unanimously declared for the King, would give no 
 other answer. ' He had decided for himself,' he said, 
 and * would have nothing to do with anybody else.' 
 
 To the King's letter Montrose replied that he was, 
 as ever, ready to lay down his very life for Charles. 
 He entreated him to write to him fully, and to 
 tell him particularly whether or not he felt safe with 
 the Covenanters. Well mi^rht Montrose, who knew 
 them so well, mistrust his monarch's guardians. 
 Did the King, Montrose inquired, need his services .^ 
 Did the King really bid him disband an army which 
 had well-nigh reconquered Scotland for him } If 
 so, how could he save the lives and properties of 
 his followers .-• 
 
 To this urgent letter our hero received no reply, 
 other than an official order from the English Parlia- 
 ment,, that he was required to lay down his arms 
 and disband his army. 
 
 N
 
 1 88 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 Montrose had received his commission from 
 Charles, and he would therefore take no orders 
 except from his royal master. He wrote again very 
 urgently ; and then the King wrote a letter, dated 
 the fifteenth of June 1646, in which he enjoined 
 Montrose to disband his troops, and retire abroad. 
 
 After receiving the King's positive commands, 
 Montrose no longer refused. Huntly and Aboyne 
 even took upon themselves to threaten Montrose, if 
 he hesitated any longer ; so, yielding obedience to 
 his sovereign, though with a heavy heart, the gallant 
 leader of so many victories prepared to capitulate. 
 
 Charles was intensely anxious to save Montrose, 
 by getting him safely out of the country. He knew 
 that the Covenanters, who detested Montrose, would 
 take advantage of the slightest delay to retaliate 
 on one whose, victories over them had been so ex- 
 emplary, and therefore urged the Marquis to lose no 
 time in conferring with General Middleton, who was 
 charged to see the terms of capitulation carried out. 
 About the middle of July, Montrose and Middleton 
 met by agreement in Angus. Close to a river, the 
 two opponents, enemies no longer — for Montrose 
 could appreciate Middleton's honest and soldierly 
 character — met, and for two hours discussed the 
 terms of capitulation. The Earl of Crawford, Sir 
 John Hurry, and Montrose were exempted from the
 
 The Vow of Monti'ose. 189 
 
 general pardon, which was to be extended to all 
 those who had taken up arms under Montrose ; but 
 they were to be permitted to retire 2}oxq2.<^, provided 
 they sailed before the first of September. After his 
 conference with Middleton, Montrose, who undertook 
 to see that his followers carried out the terms of his 
 convention, and retired to their homes, determined 
 to be as loyal to his word as he had been to his 
 King, and to immediately disband his Redshanks. 
 
 His meeting with Middleton took place on the 
 22d of July 1646, Eight days later he took leave 
 of his followers at Rattray, in Angus. 
 
 Montrose was then just thirty-four years of age, in 
 the prime of life ; young enough to keenly feel the 
 disappointments of his position, yet old enough to 
 bear them with manly fortitude. He tried to comfort 
 his men, by telling them that he trusted an honour- 
 able peace was close at hand, and that as long as 
 the King was saved by their submission, the sacri- 
 fices made by himself and his followers would be 
 light and easily borne ; but at heart he was any- 
 thing but sanguine. 
 
 With all the enthusiasm and devotion of their 
 race, the Highlanders cast themselves at Montrose's 
 feet, begging him to permit them to accompany him 
 into exile. Such a request it was impossible to 
 grant.
 
 I Qo The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 * Farewell ! and farewell ! ' cried Montrose, as he 
 tore himself with deep emotion from the kneeling 
 men ; and riding slowly away, he and the few 
 chosen companions of his exile passed out of sight. 
 
 A few words will tell the remainder of this part of 
 the sad story. 
 
 The Irish brigade, commanded by Lord Crawford, 
 who was proscribed with our hero, returned to Ire- 
 land, and Lord Airlie and others of the Marquis's 
 truest friends returned to their own homes. 
 
 Thus ended Montrose's gallant but ineffectual 
 campaign for his King. It had not, indeed, been all 
 in vain. That devoted little band, following with 
 so much devotion the chivalrous and high-minded 
 Montrose, have left to their descendants and their 
 country the picture of a noble and disinterested 
 attempt made by gallant faithful men in defence of 
 a principle — as they believed — of right against 
 might, 
 
 Montrose's dangers did not quite end on that 
 farewell day. The Covenanters in Edinburgh and 
 Glasgow thought that General Middleton had been 
 far too lenient in his agreement. They longed for 
 some apparent breach of the convention that they 
 might seize the gallant Marquis, and carry him to 
 the scaffold ; but his life was to be spared a while. 
 He was destined to act another part in the page of
 
 The Vozv of Montrose. 1 9 1 
 
 history. He hurried home to Old Montrose to pre- 
 pare for his exile. Strange to say, Sir John Hurry, 
 his former enemy, but now his firmest friend, was 
 the only companion permitted by Montrose to ac- 
 company him. 
 
 The King acknowledged Montrose's services in a 
 very grateful letter, and especially impressed on him 
 the necessity of strictly adhering to the date fixed 
 for his departure, although he also bid him ' linger as 
 long' as he possibly could. Perchance the hopeless 
 monarch dreaded his faithful servant's absence, yet 
 knew that were he ' to linger,' his fate might be 
 sealed by his enemy's implacable fury. 
 
 In the treaty effected between Charles and his 
 subjects, one article had especially stipulated for the 
 Marquis's departure. According to that treaty, the 
 ship and all its equipments for the voyage were to 
 be provided in good time by the Edinburgh com- 
 mittee. 
 
 The time for his embarkation drew on. Montrose 
 had bidden his friends farewell. He had arrived at 
 a port in Angus, from which he was to depart ; and, 
 attended by a few friends and servants, was ready 
 to obey the sentence of exile that had been passed 
 upon him. 
 
 It was by no means, however, the intention of the 
 Covenanters to allow him to escape so easily. No
 
 192 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 doubt among their number there were many honour- 
 able and high-minded men ; but there were others 
 who were eager to force Montrose to break his 
 agreement, trusting in that way they might entrap 
 him. They hated the idea of his escaping their 
 fury ; they thirsted for his blood. 
 
 The Covenanters tried to induce several who pro- 
 fessed friendship to the Marquis, but were enemies 
 at heart, to flatter the great hero of the Scottish 
 civil wars. 
 
 ' 'Twere a pity,' they urged, * so gallant a soldier 
 should be sent into exile. If, by chance, the King 
 could not come to terms with the English, who would 
 he want but Montrose to fight his battles } ' 
 
 The Marquis knew too well the value of such 
 arguments. So, after taking a sad and long farewell 
 of his home at Old Montrose, and of such friends as 
 could not accompany him, he repaired in August to 
 the given rendezvous. When he got there, however, 
 no ship was to be seen. The day was rapidly draw- 
 ing nigh, on which, according to the treaty, he was 
 to quit his native land ; but the promised vessel that 
 was to bear him safely from its shores had not 
 arrived ! Was there not treachery somewhere } 
 
 At last, on the 31st of August, a ship arrived at 
 the haven of Montrose. 
 
 It was, as the Marquis soon discovered, ordered to
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 193 
 
 convey him to a place appointed by the commis- 
 sioners, the name of which the captain insolently 
 boasted was only known to himself. He was a 
 Covenanter of a most violent kind ; and when the 
 Marquis told him that he was ready to embark, he 
 merely replied that the vessel would not be fit for 
 sea for some days, and that he was afraid to put off, 
 till the ship, which was a very old and cranky one, 
 had been properly refitted and victualled for its 
 voyage. 
 
 The crew on board this wretched bark were as 
 ill-conditioned and surly as their captain. What 
 was the Marquis to do.'' To hesitate Avas, as h^ 
 well knew, to be lost. The mouth of the Esk was 
 watched by English men-of-war, and our hero re- 
 cognised the difficulties of his position. Those 
 friends who had accompanied him to the place of 
 embarkation were all anxious to persuade him that 
 his only chance of safety lay in an immediate return 
 into the Highlands. 
 
 The captain of the ship provided by the Cove- 
 nanters, they argued, was evidently bent on pre- 
 venting his departure, by throwing every obstacle in 
 his way. 
 
 The ocean swarmed with men-of-war eager to 
 seize him if he set sail too late, and the chances of 
 escape among the hills of Badenoch were more
 
 194 ^'^^ Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 numerous than his chances of getting' off by sea. 
 Montrose reflected that if he gave the smallest 
 handle to his enemies, the King's life might be 
 endangered ; so, with all the generosity of his nature, 
 he resolved, come what might, to keep his word, and 
 depart as soon as he could. ^ 
 
 Fortunately a Norwegian bark was lying in the 
 port of Stonehaven. A bargain was quickly made, 
 and Montrose immediately sent off Sir John Hurry, 
 Mr. Drummond, his brother Henry, his chaplain, 
 and a few other friends and servants, and ordered 
 them all to set sail for Norway ; which they ac- 
 cordingly did, on the third of September 1646. 
 
 Having provided for his friends, he then effected 
 his own escape in disguise. 
 
 The very evening that they set sail, passing for a 
 servant in attendance on his faithful chaplain, Mr. 
 Wood, Montrose hailed a small fishing smack, and 
 bid the boatman carry him and his companion out 
 to sea. The wind was fair, and the little bark, 
 carrying in so humble a guise the great Scottish 
 Cavalier, drifted out with the tide of the harbour, 
 none suspecting how precious a freight it bore away. 
 
 As he watched the receding shores of that Scot- 
 land for whose sake he had dared and won, and 
 dared and lost so much, Montrose little thought 
 how and when he was to see it again ! He and his
 
 The Vozu of Montrose. 195 
 
 chaplain reached a vessel bound for Norway in 
 safety, and dismissing the little wherry which had 
 saved their lives, were soon afterwards safely on 
 their way to Norway. 
 
 Thus ended the first part of our hero's story, and 
 the civil war in Scotland in favour of King Charles 
 the First. 
 
 Well might his disbanded soldiers, who, in spite 
 of promises, were still persecuted for the love they 
 had borne him, 
 
 • Be shaken 
 With the weight of such a blow. 
 
 He was gone — their prince, their idol, 
 Whom they loved and worshipped so S " 
 
 To return — how ? 
 
 ^■^ 
 
 s-
 
 ^^Urp.- 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 * Great, good, and just, could I but rate 
 My grief and thy too rigid fate, 
 I'd weep the world in such a strain 
 As it should deluge once again. ' 
 
 — Marquis of Montrose. 
 
 ■IRTUALLY a prisoner, how fared the un- 
 happy King after the departure of Mon- 
 trose ? 
 
 The Independents were his greatest enemies, for 
 they were republicans equally in politics and in 
 religion. They longed to overthrow the King, but 
 felt compelled to keep up an outward appearance of 
 decency in their behaviour towards him. 
 
 Charles expressed himself willing to come to 
 terms with his subjects ; but the conditions they 
 proposed for his acceptance were hard indeed. 
 
 They only accorded him ten short days to con- 
 sider whether he could sign the Covenant, — a step to 
 which, as an honourable man remembering that he 
 
 Tq6
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 197 
 
 had taken the coronation oath, the King was most 
 averse. Charles was, nevertheless, strongly urged 
 by the more moderate party in Scotland to sign that 
 document ; for they trusted that, if he were persuaded 
 to do so, he might even at that eleventh hour be 
 saved. Great was the triumph of the Independents 
 when it was openly announced that the King re- 
 fused their terms, while the more moderate party 
 dreaded, with reason, the prospect before them ; for 
 was it not an axe and a scaffold for the unhappy 
 King, so conscientiously determined not to abandon 
 his religious opinions .'* 
 
 Montrose, sailing away from Scotland, still schem- 
 ing and dreaming how best he might serve Charles, 
 who had entrusted him, it was alleged, with secret 
 instructions to serve him abroad, little knew that the 
 Scots were preparing to meet their financial difficul- 
 ties by an act of gross and shameful treachery. 
 
 The Independents longed to obtain possession of 
 Charles's person ; while the Scots, unable to keep 
 him, and disgusted by his refusal to sanction the 
 Presbyterian forms of religion in England as well as 
 Scotland, had no longer any object in guarding one 
 who in so evil an hour had thrown himself on their 
 protection. It is difficult to sufficiently condemn 
 either those who sold or those who bought their 
 monarch. The Scots, being anxious to be paid for
 
 1 98 The Fiery Cross ; or^ 
 
 their services in England, amounting to nearly two 
 millions, — three years' arrears, — agreed to give up the 
 King provided that sum were paid down to them. 
 This bargain was not concluded without a vehement 
 protest by a number of Scottish noblemen, who, 
 though attached to the Covenant, abhorred the 
 crime of selling their lawful sovereign. 
 
 The Duke of Hamilton, followed by the Earl of 
 Lanark, nobly voted against the crime, after cou- 
 rageously defending the condemned monarch. 
 
 When asked how he voted, the Earl cried : ' No ! 
 As God shall have mercy on my soul at the great 
 day, rather than consent to this vote I would have 
 my head struck off at the Market Cross of Edin- 
 burgh.' When the fatal deed was done, and the 
 assembly had sealed Charles's fate, he exclaimed, 
 ' This is the blackest Saturday Scotland has ever 
 seen ! * 
 
 Forewarned of the fact by a private letter handed 
 to him while playing at chess with one of his atten- 
 dants, Charles bore his great misfortunes with calm- 
 ness and self-possession. 
 
 The Scots were paid the amount of their dis- 
 graceful bargain ! and Charles, on the 20th of 
 February 1647, was handed over to the English 
 commissioners, and taken by them to Holmby in 
 Northamptonshire.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 1 99 
 
 It was not long before Cromwell sent an armed 
 band to seize the King's person. 
 
 ' Your warrant/ said Charles to the officer who 
 removed him, when, in reply to the King's inquiry 
 as to who had ordered his change of residence, he 
 pointed through the latticed window of Holmby 
 House to his armed men, *is indeed written in 
 characters fair and legible ; ' and he then accom- 
 panied them in a dignified manner to the head- 
 quarters of the Puritan army on Triplow Heath 
 in Cambridgeshire. In the meantime, Montrose 
 landed at Bergen in Norway, and after hastening 
 into Denmark, with the intention of interesting the 
 reigning King Christian in his royal master's 
 troubles, crossed the Baltic, and while at Ham- 
 burg, heard of the shameful treaty between the 
 Scots and English. 
 
 He knew that Henrietta Maria, who had taken 
 refuge in Paris, was almost entirely governed by 
 her favourite. Lord Jermyn, who by no means 
 welcomed the idea of Montrose's presence at the 
 French Court. Before leaving Scotland, the Mar- 
 quis had endeavoured to serve Charles by organ- 
 izing a Northern party, who mutually promised 
 to protect Charles by force of arms. This ' engage- 
 ment,' as it was called, had been made known to 
 Charles, and also to the Queen.
 
 200 The Fie7y Cross ; or, 
 
 After the downfall of all his schemes, Montrose 
 must have possessed great courage to dream of 
 another enterprise in favour of Charles ; yet even 
 before he quitted Scotland, he appears to have 
 planned a new expedition, the details of which he 
 sent to Queen Henrietta by his friend Lord Craw- 
 ford. 
 
 That nobleman reached Paris before our hero, 
 and his proposition, which was to raise thirty 
 thousand men and rescue the King, strange to say, 
 met with but little encouragement from Henrietta, 
 who was under Jermyn's influence, and whose 
 jealousy of Montrose made him anxious to oppose 
 any scheme that emanated from him. 
 
 Whatever the Queen, influenced by selfish coun- 
 sels, may have thought, Charles seems for some 
 time to have clung to the hope of escape. 
 
 Allaster MacColl did not disband his troops at 
 the same time as Montrose. The men he had taken 
 away into Argyllshire were still enlisted in the 
 royal favour, and supported Huntly, who, after 
 having refused to assist Montrose when help might 
 materially have aided the cause, still appeared in 
 arms for the Cavaliers' cause as late as December 
 1646, the end of the year in which Montrose left 
 Scotland. 
 
 Huntly, however, was -forced to retire before the
 
 The Vow of Monh'-ose. 201 
 
 experienced troops whom the Scotch sent against 
 him under General Leslie. Finding himself likely 
 to be defeated, he fled to the mountains of Bade- 
 noch, whose peasantry were devoted to him. General 
 Leslie was well aware how unequal would be a 
 combat in a land where every cave and hill, if 
 necessary, could be turned into a fortress to defend 
 the chief of the Gordons. He therefore, being a 
 very able general, determined upon caution. He 
 appeared to abandon the pursuit of Huntly, and 
 retired to Strathbogie, which he took, as well as 
 the castles of Lesmore, the Bog of Gicht, and a 
 place called Lochtanner in Aboyne. 
 
 The capture of Ruthven in Badenoch and Inver- 
 lochy followed ; both fortresses were great losses 
 to the Highland Cavaliers. The former castle must 
 have been very strong ; for often, in more ancient 
 times, had it been gallantly defended by the Gordons. 
 About sixty years before it fell into Leslie's hands, 
 a mighty chief, Lauchlan Mackintosh, head of the 
 Clanchattan clan, had tried in vain to take it, 
 and fell wounded in the attempt ; so that when 
 Leslie had garrisoned it, and left Middleton in 
 charge of the province, he thought he might safely 
 pursue MacCoU into Argyllshire. 
 
 In spite of the almost impregnable position of the 
 country, MacColl, brave and courageous, but rash,
 
 202 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 foolishly allowed his enemies to get through a pass 
 into Kintyre, which placed his foe, well supported 
 with cavalry, in as good a position as himself. 
 
 After a long battle, MacColl, accompanied by 
 almost all his men, retreated to the sea-shore, where 
 they soon took to their boats and retired safely 
 into the Western Islands. 
 
 The unhappy remnant left by MacColl retreated 
 to a fort called Dunavertie. It was a very ancient 
 castle, standing, as its name signifies, on a point of 
 land. There was no water to supply the fort, so 
 that as soon as the small quantity taken in by the 
 garrison was quite exhausted, they were compelled 
 to submit unconditionally to the enemy. 
 
 Unhappily for the unfortunate garrison, Leslie 
 was accompanied by a Presbyterian clergyman 
 named Neaves, who, although talented and reputed 
 pious, was a red-hot fanatic. 
 
 When he saw Leslie hesitating to give the order 
 for their destruction, he stepped forward and re- 
 minded him that Saul had been cursed for sparing 
 the Amalekites. 
 
 Argyle appears to have been present at the 
 horrible scene of carnage that ensued, for he and 
 Leslie are described by a historian as positively 
 'wading in blood up to their ankles.' As one by 
 one the garrison marched out of the fort, they were
 
 The Vow of Moiih'ose, 203 
 
 all, with one exception, shot down — Leslie turning, 
 when all was over, to Neaves, and asking him : 
 ' Have you not for once got your fill of blood ? ' 
 
 Thence the Covenanters hastened over to Islay, 
 where he found MacColl's father, Colkeitoch, and 
 about two hundred men in a fort on a hill like 
 Dunavertie, called Dunnivey. Again the lack of 
 water favoured the besiegers, who, however, spared 
 the lives of the garrison; all except Colkeitoch, who 
 was hanged. 
 
 Leslie was equally successful in Jura and Mull, 
 which latter place was garrisoned by the Maclean 
 clan. 
 
 That chief saved his own men by the sacrifice 
 of fourteen Irishmen, and the loss of several castles. 
 
 This expedition of Huntly's ended by the capture 
 and execution of three of his family, and his own 
 imprisonment in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, while 
 the Covenanters celebrated the massacre of so many 
 ' malignants ' by a public fast. If, however, the 
 Covenanters believed that they had finally quelled 
 the Cavaliers, they were mistaken. 
 
 Henrietta Maria had found a safe asylum for her- 
 self in France, although the French monarch turned 
 a deaf ear to her entreaties for aid to Charles. 
 
 All this time our hero, constant to his purpose, 
 
 was. hurrying on to Paris, eager in order, if possible, 
 
 o
 
 2C4 The Fiery Cross; or^ 
 
 to negotiate for Charles's rescue. The Queen, who 
 did not intend quarrelling with Montrose, wrote very- 
 kindly to him, although (again influenced by the 
 double-dealing Jermyn) she tried to prevent his 
 visiting Paris. Probably Henrietta Maria, thought- 
 less, and therefore selfish, dreaded an appeal in 
 behalf of Charles to the French King, as likely to 
 injure, if unsuccessful, her own safety. She and 
 Jermyn therefore hit on a scheme to prevent the 
 arrival of a person whom both, if really loyal to 
 Charles, should have warmly welcomed. 
 
 They sent one of Charles's gentlemen named 
 Ashburnham to meet him ; and the messenger did 
 all he could to persuade Montrose to return imme- 
 diately to Scotland. 
 
 After reading a letter from the Queen veiy much 
 to the same purpose, our hero resolutely refused to 
 carry out any of Ashburnham's suggestions. 
 
 The King, he said, had ordered him to wait in 
 France for his 'further commands,' and he was 
 certain that Her Majesty the Queen would not wish 
 him to disobey Charles's orders. 
 
 Montrose was in Flanders, on his road to Paris, 
 when this curious meeting took place. 
 
 Determined to try and prevent his arrival there, 
 Ashburnham then resorted to another plan of action. 
 
 He pretended to have the deepest interest in our
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 205 
 
 hero. *Why,' urged he, 'should you sacrifice all 
 your future prospects to a falling cause ? Why not 
 go back to Scotland and make your peace with the 
 Covenanters, and keep yourself in readiness for 
 better times ?' This crafty messenger even declared 
 that he was ready to secure Charles's full consent to 
 such a scheme. 
 
 'No one,' replied Montrose, 'is readier than I to 
 obey His Majesty, but I cannot obey him by acting 
 in the manner you propose — dishonourable alike to 
 him and to me.' 
 
 Independently of his dread of losing his influence 
 with Henrietta, should the Marquis appear in Paris, 
 Jermyn was very angry that the King had appointed 
 Montrose ambassador in Paris, for up to this time 
 Jermyn himself had filled the post. 
 
 To please the Scots, Charles the First had been 
 compelled to sacrifice Montrose by consenting to his 
 exile, and the forfeiture of all his estates. To 
 appease the Marquis's anger at those conditions, 
 Charles had made him ambassador in France. 
 
 When he arrived in Paris, Montrose found that no 
 letters or credentials had been sent as promised 
 him by the King ; and all he could therefore do, 
 was to entreat Henrietta to allow him to make 
 another attempt to save Charles, for by this time 
 Montrose knew of his having been given up by the
 
 2o6 The Fiery Cross ; or^ 
 
 Scots, and to furnish him with a small sum of 
 money. 
 
 Henrietta Maria had, however, no power to help 
 Montrose, Her money was appropriated by the 
 dissolute and scheming courtiers about her (many of 
 whom were even paid by the rebels to report all that 
 passed at her Court to the English Government). 
 
 With a heavy heart, then, the Marquis quitted 
 Paris and retired to Germany. 
 
 There were several men at Paris who were far 
 more capable of appreciating the beauty of Mon- 
 trose's character than the heartless courtiers about 
 the English Queen. Among the brilliant throng 
 surrounding the French Monarch at that epoch, none 
 were more witty or celebrated than the Cardinal de 
 Retz. 
 
 He describes our hero as 'Montrose, a Scottish 
 nobleman, head of the house of Graham— the only 
 man in the world who has even quite realized my 
 idea of a hero — such a hero as Plutarch describes to 
 us in his Lives ! He has sustained the cause of the 
 King his master in his own country with a greatness 
 of soul unequalled in our age ! ' 
 
 After the unhappy monarch had fled to the Isle 
 of Wight, various intrigues were set on foot in both 
 Scotland and England, which more or less, although 
 most of them were ostensibly undertaken in the
 
 TJie Vow of Montrose. 207 
 
 King's name, were simply begun from selfish motives 
 of aggrandizement. Huntly's efforts had failed, and 
 he himself was in prison ; but new champions had 
 sprung up for the monarchy, and, strange to say, in 
 the persons of two men, both of whom were rivals, 
 and had been bitter enemies to the King. The first 
 was Hamilton, the second Argyle. 
 
 A great split had long before this period divided 
 the Presbyterians in England and Scotland from the 
 Independents, whose power all who disagreed with 
 them — the majority in both countries — dreaded far 
 more than the bad government of Charles or the 
 tyranny of the Covenanters. 
 
 In all revolutions there is something to be said in 
 favour of both sides ; and although all that is romantic 
 and chivalrous in the English character was deeply 
 stirred by the fate of Charles the First, and the 
 dignity with which he met death, there is no doubt 
 that his own errors as a king greatly tended to his 
 doom. His inflexible persistence in imposing his 
 own religious views too urgently on his people, as 
 well as his arbitrary government, had drawn to the 
 opposite side many a man whose adherence to the 
 Puritans resulted solely from motives of the purest 
 patriotism. 
 
 But such men shrank back appalled and disgusted 
 with the fanaticism of the Independents.
 
 2o8 The Fiery Cross ; or. 
 
 Among the former, many were members of the 
 Parliament who began to dread the ascendancy of 
 the army. The step taken by Cromwell when he 
 seized the King's person, more than ever opened 
 their eyes to the danger of allowing military counsels 
 to prevail in the government. Before, however, they 
 had time to carry out their intention and commit 
 Cromwell to the Tower, that clever man had eluded 
 them and placed himself at the head of the troops. 
 
 The English Presbyterians were perfectly aghast 
 when they saw Cromwell at the head of affairs, and 
 immediately entered into private negotiations with 
 Charles, preferring even an Episcopalian King to 
 the fanaticism of the Independents. 
 
 Montrose mistrusted the leaders of the Scottish 
 Government, and he therefore heard with grave 
 apprehension, that after having three times marched 
 into England against the King, they were now con- 
 templating an enterprise in his favour. 
 
 They began, as a preliminary step, to treat with 
 the Queen. They pretended the deepest concern 
 and indignation at the fact of Charles's imprison- 
 ment, and soon got the Queen's ear. She knew well 
 enough that they would gain no advocate in Mon- 
 trose. When at length she divulged her schemes, 
 Montrose with difficulty controlled his emotion so 
 as to answer her calmly.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 209 
 
 He entreated her to put no faith in Argyle, 
 Hamilton, or any of the Covenanters. He pointed 
 out that the leaders of the party, now apparently so 
 anxious to uphold the monarchy, were the very men 
 who had, for money, betrayed the King to the 
 English ! He proposed to her a middle course. 
 
 * Let me,' urged Montrose, ' return to Scotland 
 and raise an army for the royal cause among such 
 as are known to be true to him. Those forces, if it 
 please your Majesty, can be, as it were, a reserve, 
 ready to help the Scottish Covenanters should they 
 really intend to fight for the King, or to punish 
 them should they (as I really fear) intend a second 
 piece of treachery ! ' 
 
 But all the eloquence of which our hero was so 
 able a master — his pleading face and earnest voice 
 — were powerless with Henrietta Maria. 
 
 The Queen, governed by a faction, accepted Pres- 
 byterian aid. Sorrowfully Montrose left her presence 
 and Paris. He left it suddenly in March 1648, 
 determined not to witness such a picture of ruin as 
 the royal cause committed to its enemies, but by 
 retiring to Germany, to serve the King in his own 
 way. 
 
 Montrose was famous all over Europe, Cardinal 
 Mazarin would gladly have retained near his own 
 sovereign a hero whose deeds were well known in all
 
 2iOi The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 foreign courts; but while he was attempting to carry 
 out those views, by offering Montrose high rank and 
 a mihtary command, Ferdinand the Third, Emperor 
 of Germany, had also made overtures to the Marquis, 
 which Montrose, eager to escape from the French 
 Court, gladly accepted. 
 
 He hurriedly left the French capital, and got into 
 Austria by way of Geneva, Bavaria, and the Tyrol. 
 
 Finding the Emperor had left Vienna, Montrose 
 joined him at Prague, where he was received with 
 the greatest possible distinction. 
 
 Although Ferdinand the Third no longer main- 
 tained the same State as Charles the Fourth of 
 Germany, — who was served, we are told, on State 
 occasions, by the seven Electors of the empire, while 
 three archbishops carried the seals of Germany, 
 Italy, and Aries, — there was still retained much 
 Court ceremony. The deference paid to rank, and 
 the higher morality of the Germans, better suited 
 Montrose's stately character than the looseness of 
 the Versailles Court. 
 
 Ferdinand made Montrose a Field-marshal, dat- 
 ing his patent from the year 1648 ; and when the 
 former left Prague, the Marquis rode at his right 
 hand. 
 
 But not even such brilliant favours could banish 
 the image of his fallen King from his constant heart. 
 
 r
 
 The Vow of Montrose, 2 1 1 
 
 His cause was ever present to his imagination as 
 an aim to be pursued, served, and rescued ; for 
 already rumours of his coming fate were floating 
 on the air. 
 
 The Emperor gave him an independent command 
 directly under himself ; but although gratefully ac- 
 cepted, the post was accepted by Montrose only on 
 one condition, and that was, that whenever his old 
 master needed him, he should be free to return and 
 serve him. The service for which Montrose was 
 selected was the levying of recruits, and the Emperor 
 yielded to our hero's entreaties that his sphere of 
 action should be as near England as it could be. 
 
 The Emperor gave him letters of introduction to 
 his brother the Archduke Leopold, Governor of the 
 Netherlands ; but as the hostile armies of France 
 did not allow travellers to enter Flanders by the 
 direct way, Montrose was compelled to take a very 
 circuitous route to get to Brussels. He embarked 
 from Dantzic for Denmark, where he was enthusi- 
 astically welcomed ; and after enjoying the highest 
 honours for a few days, crossed over into Friesland, 
 and at length reached Brussels. 
 
 He found that Leopold, defeated by Conde, had 
 retired to Tournay, whither he hurried to present 
 his credentials. The Archduke received him with 
 much attention ; and when he returned to Brussels,
 
 212 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 towards the end of the year, Montrose accompanied 
 him to that city, where he was rejoined soon after 
 by his nephew Lord Napier, whom he had left 
 behind him in Paris, and several other English and 
 Scottish Cavaliers. 
 
 But Montrose was not destined by fate to un- 
 sheath his sword in the Archduke's cause. A sum- 
 mons was at hand to that loyalest of all gentlemen, 
 which was to call him back to Scotland. 
 
 The better to understand our hero's history, we 
 must return to King Charles, then a lonely prisoner 
 in Carisbrooke Castle. 
 
 The Scottish Covenanters were now divided into 
 two parties. They had determined to invade 
 England, and revenge the breach of faith which 
 they considered had been shown them by the In- 
 dependents, in not establishing the Presbyterian 
 faith in England. Argyle headed this section of 
 the Covenanters ; but there was another party, led 
 by the Hamiitons, who maintained that the object 
 in invading England was to rescue Charles, whom 
 they declared to be unjustly kept prisoner, against 
 the conditions of their treaty with the English. 
 The King had signed a secret agreement with these 
 Scottish Presbyterians, that should their efforts 
 prove successful, he would sign the Covenant ; but 
 Argyle and his followers mistrusted Charles's sin-
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 213 
 
 cerity, and would not therefore consent to any 
 overtures for placing him again on the throne. The 
 consequence was, that the Hamiltonians, who pro- 
 fessed the greatest attachment to the King's person, 
 headed a large party, and Scotland was split up into 
 two sections holding different opinions. 
 
 Hamilton's was a strong party ; many of those 
 who had fought under Montrose joining him, under 
 the belief that he was loyally true to the King. 
 Scotland being thus rent into two factions, Hamilton 
 raised a large army, amounting to more than forty 
 thousand ; while the English Loyalists, inspirited 
 by the hope of Scottish aid, prepared to rise all over 
 the kingdom, and even appeared openly in many 
 parts of Wales wearing blue and white ribbons, 
 inscribed with the words, * We long to see our 
 King! 
 
 So universal was the sympathy awakened by 
 Charles's sufferings in the minds of the loyal Eng- 
 lish and Scotch, that his rescue might have been 
 accomplished, and his cruel fate averted, but for the 
 determined opposition of Argyle and his followers. 
 
 They formally protested against Hamilton's ex- 
 pedition, although the Northern Parliament voted 
 him money for the purpose. 
 
 Argyle's party were called 'Protesters;' Hamilton's, 
 * Engagers,* because they joined the association for
 
 2 1 4 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 protecting the King's cause. Argyle well knew how 
 to alarm Scottish fanaticism. He aroused the alarm 
 of the General Assembly of the Kirk, who openly 
 censured any persons joining Hamilton, and ap- 
 pointed a day of humiliation and fasting through- 
 out Scotland ; on which occasion the Calvinist 
 preachers improved the opportunity by denouncing 
 all who joined the expedition. 
 
 Argyle endeavoured to incite the Western High- 
 lands to an armed opposition ; and Hamilton lost 
 ground by temporizing with those who opposed him 
 instead of appealing to Parliament, with whom he 
 was then all-powerful, to crush the rebellion in the 
 bud. 
 
 On the loth of June, Argyle's followers assembled 
 in arms. 
 
 General Middleton was sent to quell so dangerous 
 an outburst. He found the insurgents, numbering 
 eight hundred foot and twelve hundred horsemen, 
 drawn up at a place in Ayrshire called Mauchline 
 Moor. 
 
 Eight ministers were with these misguided men, 
 who went out to treat with Middleton. Nothing 
 could exceed the power of the clergy at this time 
 over the minds of their followers. They had per- 
 suaded the rebels that salvation alone would be 
 theirs who fought against the * Engagers.* The
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 215 
 
 valour of the clergy, however, soon subsided when 
 they saw Middleton's approach ; and they imme- 
 diately made terms. He promised a free pardon to 
 all who would quietly return to their own homes ; 
 but they would not — such was their fanaticism — 
 accept any terms, and a conflict took place in which 
 several lives were lost. 
 
 This encounter, easily quelled as it had been, 
 fatally retarded Hamilton's descent into England. 
 The delay enabled Cromwell and his party to rally 
 their forces, and to recover their lost ground. 
 Hamilton and his friends lost time that they could 
 not recover ; and although, when at length on the 
 I2th of July 1648 he began his march, he was joined 
 by a considerable number of Royalists under Sir 
 Marmaduke Langdale, almost all the insurrections 
 in England in Charles's favour had been crushed, 
 and the Scottish troops barely numbered fifteen 
 thousand men, although forty thousand had been 
 voted him by the Parliament. 
 
 The end of the expedition was fatal indeed. 
 Charles was fated to be injured, not served, by his 
 friends. 
 
 Such was the fanaticism of the day, that the 
 Scottish Parliament had decreed that none but 
 they who had signed the Covenant could join the 
 Scottish army.
 
 2 1 6 The Fiery Cross ; or. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke Langdale, Sir Philip Musgrave, 
 and others, who joined the Scots, were obHged to 
 form, as it were, a separate camp. The Duke of 
 Hamilton did not consult them ; consequently, in- 
 stead of marching through Yorkshire, a county 
 devoted to the King, he dispersed his forces into 
 Lancashire and elsewhere, and proved himself al- 
 together unequal to the task of guiding his army 
 southwards. 
 
 At length, on the 17th of August, Hamilton 
 sustained a defeat at Preston in Lancashire, where 
 the Duke believed himself perfectly secure from 
 attack. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke Langdale, surprised by Cromwell's 
 squadrons, received the first brunt of the battle, and 
 resisted to the utmost ; but finding that Hamilton 
 did not reinforce him, he was compelled to beat a 
 hasty retreat. Hamilton fled into Preston. He did 
 not long keep that town, however ; for, being pursued 
 by the Puritans, ten thousand of his army under 
 Baillie capitulated to Cromwell, while the leader of 
 the expedition fled to Uttoxeter, where he followed 
 Baillie's example and gave himself up as a prisoner 
 of war. 
 
 Hamilton's brother, Lanerick, when he heard of 
 his brother's capture, and the dispersion of his army, 
 was made Commander-in-chief of the ' Engagement '
 
 The Vow of MonU'ose. 217 
 
 party, and endeavoured, with the aid of General 
 Monro, to raise another army. 
 
 They gathered together about five thousand men, 
 chiefly veterans and well-disciplined troops. Argyle 
 also got together a small number of followers, 
 about six hundred in number ; and as the Mac- 
 Caileam Mor's party, though fewer than the 
 'Engagers,' had numerous supporters in Edinburgh, 
 Monro wisely counselled an immediate descent on 
 the capital itself. 
 
 Lanerick, like Hamilton, was totally unsuited to 
 be commander-in-chief. Disgusted with the course 
 of events in England, the peers and gentry of 
 Scotland were all eager to join in the war ; but 
 Lanerick's appointment was unpopular with them, 
 and alienated several of the most prominent noble- - 
 men from that side. 
 
 Instead of adopting Monro's advice, Lanerick 
 marched to Stirling, at which place Argyle, ignorant 
 of the Loyalists' intention, had also halted on his 
 way to Edinburgh. Argyle was at dinner when 
 his scouts brought him word that the Loyalists 
 were at the very gates of the city battling with 
 his sentinels. Without a thought for any one but 
 himself, Argyle mounted a fleet horse, and fled 
 out of the city, leaving his hapless recruits to 
 protect his flight, and contest the passes into Stirling.
 
 2 1 8 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 The Clan Campbell, braver men than their 
 craven-hearted chief, defended their posts, till, at 
 length overpowered, they fled, many being either 
 killed or drowned in the river. 
 
 Argyle reached Edinburgh safely. Lanerick was 
 by no means trusted by his own party. Whether 
 from timidity, or perhaps from a not unnatural 
 dislike to draw down upon himself as much odium 
 as Montrose had done by shedding so much Scotch 
 blood, Lanerick, instead of boldly meeting the 
 Protesters in battle, meanly temporized with them, 
 and at length actually capitulated, agreeing to 
 disband his whole army. 
 
 Thus ended the last effort of the loyal portion 
 of the Scottish Covenanters for King Charles. 
 
 When Lanerick's soldiers were told of the dis- 
 graceful capitulation, their grief and indignation 
 knew no bounds. Among their number were many 
 who had fought in our hero's army, and had joined 
 Lanerick in the full belief that he really intended 
 to fight for Charles, and, if possible, save him. 
 
 * Oh for Montrose again ! ' cried they ; ' had he 
 but been here, instead of being vanquished, we 
 should have rec'.ored peace to our poor land !' 
 
 Argyle's party, having now acquired the ascend- 
 ancy, determined to act promptly. Argyle invited 
 Cromwell into Scotland, received him in Edinburgh
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 219 
 
 with great state and pomp, and finally settled with 
 him the execution of the King, — an act on which 
 the Independents had long been bent. 
 
 It had been Cromwell's object to conciliate the 
 Covenanters, as long as he was ambitious of obtain- 
 ing their consent to the King's death ; but that act 
 once determined on, he threw off the mask, and 
 excluded from the House of Commons all members 
 the least in favour of the King. One Colonel Pride, 
 who had been a common drayman, was the instru- 
 ment selected by Cromwell to 'purge' the Parlia- 
 ment ; and when he had forcibly prevented any 
 but such as were known to be firm Independents 
 or Republicans from entering the Commons, the 
 House, consisting of only from fifty to sixty mem- 
 bers, declared that the treaty then pending between 
 Charles and the Parliament was null and void. 
 From that hour Charles's fate was sealed. 
 
 He was removed to Hurst Castle, a dreary prison 
 in Hampshire ; at high tide, almost surrounded by 
 the sea. During his imprisonment at Hurst, his 
 hair turned almost white; while his pale and dejected 
 face, as he paced the sands, showed that he had 
 begun to realize the hopelessness of his cause. 
 With great dignity he resigned himself to his im- 
 pending fate. 
 
 Hamilton, after his surrender, was imprisoned at
 
 2 20 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 Windsor. When the King was taken to Windsor, 
 the Duke obtained permission to see him. 
 
 * My dear master, my dear master ! ' he cried, 
 throwing himself at the King's feet. 
 
 * I have indeed been a dear master to you,' ex- 
 claimed the King, as Hamilton's guards rushed in 
 to shorten that final interview between Charles and 
 his once all-powerful favourite. 
 
 The Prince of Wales all this time was residing at 
 the Hague; and Montrose, who was at Brussels, 
 made him an offer of his services. 
 
 Prince Charles detested the Presbyterians ; and 
 after hearing of Hamilton's failure in England, and 
 Lanerick's loss in Scotland, resolved to send for 
 Montrose. He wrote to him in the early part of 
 January 1649, and on the 28th of that month, two 
 days before Charles's execution, we find him answer- 
 ing the Prince's letter, and assuring him that 'he 
 never had any passion on earth ' stronger" than his 
 devotion to his King, whose fate was but to herald 
 his own. 
 
 Sir Edward Hyde, afterwards famous as Chan- 
 cellor Clarendon, was at that time the Prince's chief 
 adviser at the Hague. He and Prince Rupert were 
 both friendly disposed to Montrose. 
 
 Between Hyde and Montrose letters had passed ; 
 and an interview had been arranged, the very place
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 221 
 
 being chosen, at which, so it was projected, the 
 Prince and our hero might meet, when the news of 
 the King's execution reached Brussels. 
 
 The blow was none the less felt that it had been 
 partially anticipated. Rumours had preceded the 
 fatal news, and Montrose was too far-sighted a man 
 not to know, that after Cromwell had gone the 
 length of trying the King in Westminster Hall, his 
 death would follow. 
 
 Condemned to death on the 27th of January 1649, 
 three days after the King met his fate with a 
 fortitude that redeemed all his errors and previous 
 weaknesses of character, and which caused an instant 
 revulsion of feeling in his favour, even among the 
 spectators of the tragedy. 
 
 When the news reached Montrose, it affected 
 him, as any one may imagine who has followed his 
 romantic history, and seen how enthusiastically he 
 had devoted himself to his King. Loyalty in these 
 days was a duty ; but with Montrose it was a 
 passion and an expiation. 
 
 Montrose, horror-stricken, indignant, and furious, 
 fell unconscious to the ground when the news came 
 of the King's execution. When he recovered, he 
 gazed on the many kind and sympathizing faces 
 around him, groaned aloud, and hid his face in his 
 hands.
 
 2 2 2 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 ' How, after this, can we live on ? ' he cried. ' We 
 ought to die with our King. God bear me witness, 
 henceforward life will have no charms for me.' 
 
 His chaplain tried to rouse him from despair. 
 
 'Die, my lord!' exclaimed Dr. Wishart ; 'on the 
 contrary, talk not of death ! Summon up all your 
 fortitude and courage. Revenge the death — the 
 murder — of your royal master, and support his son. 
 Such a course will be a better honour to pay the 
 monarch, who has been killed. Your own death 
 would only gratify your enemies.' 
 
 The worthy chaplain in speaking of revenge had 
 touched the right chord. Montrose immediately 
 roused himself. Drawing himself to his full height, 
 he stretched his hand towards heaven, and, as one 
 inspired, he cried — * Yes ! Yes ! I will live ! But 
 I vow, before God and man, to devote my life to 
 avenge the royal martyr's death, and to place his 
 son upon the throne !' 
 
 He then retired to his own room, where he re- 
 mained for three whole days and nights. On the 
 third, Dr. Wishart besought him to let him see him. 
 Montrose, who had forbidden any one to approach, 
 admitted his chaplain, who found him pale and 
 sorrow-stricken, but resolute and firm, meditating on 
 his vow. 
 
 As soon as Prince Charles had in some measure
 
 The Vow of Mont7'ose. 223 
 
 recovered from the shock of his father's death, he 
 sent for Montrose. Our hero hastened to the 
 Hague, and stood in the presence of the second 
 Charles. 
 
 Hamilton's execution followed that of the King's, 
 and a reign of despotism was established in England. 
 Scotland was aghast at the King's fate. In spite of 
 the extraordinary influence possessed by the Pres- 
 byterian ministry, the Scotch, both as individuals 
 and a nation, were loyal, and have always been 
 attached to the monarchy. They had framed their 
 famous Covenant to defend their religion, attacked 
 as they believed by Charles's attachment to an 
 Episcopal form of Church government ; but in spite 
 of those Covenants, for which so much blood had 
 been shed, one feeling pervaded Scotland when the 
 fell deed was done, — and that was, horror and 
 dismay ! 
 
 They forgot how they had joined in the cry, * To 
 the rock with him ! To the rock with him ! ' and 
 only remembered he was their anointed King, 
 descendant of their own Scottish monarchy. They 
 loudly protested against his death, and forced Argyle 
 (who has been accused of agreeing beforehand to 
 the execution) to proclaim Prince Charles as King, 
 and his father's successor. Argyle, it is true, en- 
 deavoured to please all parties in Scotland, by an-
 
 2 24 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 nOuncing that the only condition on which Prince 
 Charles could ascend the throne was his becoming 
 Presbyterian in religion and Covenanting in politics ; 
 but he knew that there was a strong party against 
 the Government he had established, and dared not 
 openly defy it. 
 
 So strongly was popular indignation aroused and 
 excited, that probably the restoration of Prince 
 Charles would have promptly followed had Argyle 
 been sincere, and had not the fanatic clergy of Scot- 
 land exercised an arbitrary and usurping power under 
 the mask of religion. 
 
 The Presbyterian clergy laid claim to a voice, not 
 only in religious but in every state matter ; and 
 although many earnest and pious men had first pro- 
 moted the civil wars in Scotland, the ministers of 
 the Kirk were in many cases fanatics, who stopped 
 at no means to effect their ends. The penalty 
 attached to a refusal to swear to the Covenant was 
 death, or a complete renunciation of all civil rights. 
 The movement, which had commenced from a wish 
 to purify their faith, had become so great a tyranny, 
 that it was enough to designate a man as a * plotter ' 
 or 'malignant' to drawdown upo him the dread 
 sentence of excommunication. 
 
 The Scottish people had for the time become a 
 nation of fanatics. They looked upon any amuse-
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 225 
 
 ment, however innocent, as sinful, and were com- 
 pletely swayed by the clergy in every action of their 
 lives. Argyle devoted himself to the religious party 
 of Scotland, and proscribed all who disagreed with 
 him. Forced to recognise Charles the Second by 
 the popular feeling of the day, he made the Prince's 
 acceptance of the crown almost impossible by the 
 hard conditions he persuaded the General Assembly 
 to attach to the offer. 
 
 The very day. that Argyle, yielding to popular 
 feeling, despatched a body of Commissioners to the 
 Hague, he executed the Marquis of Huntly, who 
 had suffered a long imprisonment. That act alone 
 should have shown Prince Charles how little Argyle 
 had really his restoration at heart ; for Huntly was 
 the representative of one of the noblest families in 
 the Highlands, and, in spite of his antipathy to 
 Montrose, had been ever devoted to the house of 
 Stuart. 
 
 Montrose, after joining Prince Charles at the 
 Hague, had reason to be fully satisfied with the 
 confidence his new sovereign bestowed on his father's 
 firmest champion. 
 
 Charles — whom we may now call Charles the 
 Second — -gave him his royal commission to act as 
 his Lieutenant or Governor in Scotland, made him 
 General of all his forces by sea and land, besides
 
 226 The Fiery Cross; or^ 
 
 giving him letters accrediting him as his Envoy to 
 the German, Danish, and other foreign Courts sup- 
 posed to be likely to help the royal exile to mount 
 his throne. 
 
 Montrose urged Charles to lose no time in in- 
 vading Scotland. He himself offered to raise a 
 small body of Royalists, and by a spirited effort 
 regain the kingdom for Charles. By the time the 
 Commissioners arrived at the Hague, and with 
 solemn mien, slow pace, and an affectation of 
 superior sanctity, unfolded their proposals to the 
 King, our hero had been a long time near his 
 sovereign. Had Charles been entirely influenced 
 by Montrose, he would have placed no faith in the 
 specious nature of the arguments used by those 
 about him to weaken Montrose's influence and 
 thwart his schemes. 
 
 Among their number were the Earls of Lanerick 
 and Lauderdale, who, unhappily for the royal cause, 
 had joined the Court at the Hague, and advised the 
 King on a totally different course to that proposed 
 by Montrose. 
 
 While Montrose urged immediate action, Charles's 
 presence in Scotland, and no treaty of any kind 
 with Argyle and his party ; Lanerick advised delay 
 and conciliation, and an alliance with the dominant 
 government of the northern kingdom.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 227 
 
 The King's own feelings prompted him to confide 
 fully in the Marquis of Montrose ; and when the 
 Scotch Commissioners had unfolded their proposals, 
 he treated him with all the more respect and con- 
 sideration that the Committee of Estates had, in a 
 letter to Charles, violently attacked him, and de- 
 manded his instant expulsion from Court, as one 
 who had been excommunicated by the Kirk of 
 Scotland, and thereby ' delivered into the hands of 
 the devil ! ' 
 
 The proposal of the Commissioners was comprised 
 under three heads : — 
 
 Charles was to sign both Covenants ; to promise 
 faithfully to maintain the Presbyterian form of 
 religion in Scotland, as well as to favour its ex- 
 tension to England as soon as he should be firmly 
 established on his throne. 
 
 Secondly, he was to give up all his own friends, 
 and be guided solely by Argyle and his party ; and 
 thirdly, he was to govern solely under the direction 
 of Parliament and the General Assembly. 
 
 It was not reasonable to suppose that Charles 
 would deem such conditions anything but con- 
 temptible ; but they were vehemently advocated by 
 several noblemen around him, including Lauderdale, 
 Callander, and Lanerick — the latter now Duke of 
 Hamilton, in consequence of his brother's death.
 
 2 28 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 The Marquis of Montrose was among those who 
 would fain have urged the King to decline any 
 proposals from the General Assembly. He pointed 
 out the evidence of the insincerity with which such 
 overtures were made, instancing the execution of 
 Huntly, and the marked way in which, when speak- 
 ing of the King's execution, they avoided calling it 
 regicide. Charles leant strongly to our hero's views ; 
 and when Hamilton and Lauderdale, in their eager- 
 ness to back up such exorbitant demands, went so 
 far as to denounce Montrose as ' that traitor,' only 
 treated him with the more respect. 
 
 The Earl of Lauderdale violently attacking Mon- 
 trose one day at Court, a nobleman present inquired 
 ' what offence the Marquis had committed.' In 
 reply, Lauderdale accused him of great cruelty and 
 inhumanity, and alleged that he had always refused 
 quarter, and completely ruined whole clans and 
 families ; adding, ' his behaviour had been so savage 
 that Scotland would never forgive him !* 
 
 The King begged all his Scottish nobles to advise 
 him on so weighty a matter; but Hamilton and 
 Lauderdale refused to meet our hero in council. 
 Probably they dreaded the eloquence and talent of 
 Montrose, in a right cause, telling against them. 
 
 Montrose then put his advice on paper, and while 
 urging the King to proceed to Scotland, again offered
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 229 
 
 to head a movement in that kingdom in favour of 
 the monarchy. 
 
 Charles, however, adopted a middle course. He 
 kept the Commissioners in play, and did not entirely 
 decline Montrose's services. He left the Hague and 
 went back to France, under pretext of consulting 
 Queen Henrietta Maria, who was still resident at 
 the French King's Court. 
 
 Although the Commissioners pretended great 
 indignation at Charles's rejection of their hypo- 
 critical offers, they were secretly rejoiced that, 
 instead of adopting Moniiose's advice, and return- 
 ing to Scotland, he had gone to France ; for they 
 knew that a large party were only waiting for their 
 sovereign's presence to proclaim him king over his 
 ancient kingdom of Scotland. 
 
 Montrose had every reason to maintain his own 
 opinion that Scotland was ripe for a new enterprise 
 in Charles's favour ; but the King, doubtful whether 
 the enterprise would succeed, gave him no written 
 authority for a second attempt till he had first con- 
 sulted his mother. The Marquis, meanwhile, fully 
 empowered by Charles, visited several foreign Courts 
 to solicit, in the King's name, aid and assistance. 
 
 He met with a great deal of sympathy from 
 several of the princes of Germany, and a favourable 
 hearing from the Emperor himself Wherever he
 
 230 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 went he was received with respect ; for while his 
 countrymen — at least such as were Cavaliers — de- 
 clared Montrose to be the only one of the King's 
 generals they could trust, his military fame was 
 fully recognised at all foreign Courts. 
 
 The King of Denmark and the Queen of Sweden 
 both promised aid ; and he found that on the Conti- 
 nent universal sympathy was felt for the King, — the 
 cruel execution of Charles the First having aroused 
 feelings of indignation throughout Europe. At 
 length Montrose received the King's written sanc- 
 tion to a descent on Scotland. This was about 
 the middle of September 1649. Urged by the 
 impatience of the Scottish Cavaliers to see their 
 leader once more among them, Montrose sent a 
 portion of his forces to the Orkney Isles, which 
 he selected as the safest place of meeting. 
 
 An insurrection in favour of the King had already 
 taken place in Scotland, set on foot by Lord Sea- 
 forth's brother, Mr. Thomas Mackenzie. The move- 
 ment had been largely augmented by several Scottish 
 nobles and gentry, who had escaped out of England ; 
 and who, finding their houses and lands seized and 
 sequestered, were burning for revenge. 
 
 Argyle, with a view to preventing any further in- 
 surrection, had organized an army of between three 
 and four thousand troops, whom he placed under
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 231 
 
 General Leslie and other Presbyterian leaders ; but 
 Mackenzie had defied him, wresting Inverness from 
 its garrison ; and, at the head of a large body of 
 Northern Cavaliers and several Lowlanders, had ad- 
 vanced beyond the River Spey. 
 
 The Queen of Sweden promised Montrose arms, 
 and the Duke of Holstein offered five large ships 
 and about seven or eight hundred men. He re- 
 ceived urgent letters from the Scottish Cavaliers, as 
 well as a deputation from Orkney, entreating him 
 not to wait for his own forces, but to join them in 
 Scotland, where the very sight of his face, they 
 urged, was sufficient to rally twenty thousand men 
 to his standard. In Ireland, the Marquis of Ormond 
 had taken up arms against the Puritans, and the 
 English Loyalists were ready to join Montrose, so 
 disgusted were they at the proposals made to, and 
 partly accepted by, the King from the Scottish 
 Commissioners. 
 
 Montrose had reaped the fruits of his enthusiastic 
 love of glory in his first campaign. No wonder, 
 then, that, urged to immediate action from Scotland, 
 and dreading that, as soon as the King had signed 
 the treaty with the Scottish Commissioners, he 
 would withdraw his secret instructions to Montrose 
 to proceed with the expedition, our hero issued a 
 declaration, in which he accused the Covenanters of
 
 232 The Fiery Cross; or^ 
 
 * having betrayed and sold their King/ It was 
 dated from Sweden. Charles was then at Jersey, 
 on the point of meeting the Scottish Commissioners 
 in Holland, with a view to accepting their terms and 
 signing the treaty ; and though he was about to 
 take a step that would put a complete stop to Mon- 
 trose's expedition, he continued to write, urging him 
 to expedition, and sending him a present of the 
 George and Riband of the Order of the Garter, which 
 fact refutes the charge against our hero, that he 
 acted totally in opposition to the King's commands. 
 
 The Earl of Morton had agreed to allow Mon- 
 trose's troops to land in the Orkney Islands ; but the 
 first supply of men despatched thither had mostly 
 perished by shipwreck. Two hundred alone, out of 
 twelve hundred sent off from Gottenburg, reached 
 Scotland. 
 
 The Earl of Morton, however, and several of the 
 leading gentry of that part of Scotland, joined the 
 gallant remnant, and under that nobleman imme- 
 diately took a strong castle called Birsay. 
 
 Unfortunately, an altercation took place between 
 the Earl of Morton and the Earl of Kinnoul as to 
 which of them should command those troops, which 
 ended in the discomfiture of the former. This so 
 deeply aft"ected him, that soon afterwards he died 
 of mortification and annoyance.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 233 
 
 While all Scotland was ringing with our hero's 
 declaration, and the Presbyterian clergymen de- 
 nouncing its author as that ' traitor James Graham !' 
 Montrose, misled by the too sanguine views of the 
 Scottish Cavaliers, and his own enthusiasm, was on 
 his road to Scotland to begin a second campaign ; 
 and to consummate his vow 1
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 * I charge thee, boy, if ere thou meet 
 With one of Assynt's name, 
 Be it upon the mountain's side, 
 Or yet within the glen ; 
 Stand he in martial gear alone. 
 Or backed by armed men, 
 Face him, as thou wouldst face the man 
 Who wronged thy sire's renown ; 
 Kemember of what blood thou art. 
 And strike the caitiff down ! ' 
 
 — Aytoun. 
 
 5N the same resolute and undaunted spirit 
 as that in which Montrose had so re- 
 luctantly given up the first expedition, 
 he set about the second. 
 
 Disregarding all the fears expressed by the more 
 moderate members of the Cavalier party, and count- 
 ing not the cost of the enterprise should it fail, 
 Montrose set out upon the expedition. Confident of 
 the justice of his cause, energetic and enthusiastic, 
 
 no arguments as to its danger were likely to thwart 
 
 234
 
 The Vow of Moiih'ose. 235 
 
 his designs. ' Nil medium/ the motto on his banner, 
 is the keynote to his character. Love of glory was 
 his passion, added to which he was superstitious 
 enough to ascribe importance to an old legend in 
 his family, predicting that he was to ' revenge the 
 King's death, and by his sword become the greatest 
 subject in the land.' 
 
 Montrose at this time was a middle-aged man. 
 The illusions of youth had vanished, but not its 
 generous impulses. He retained to the last the 
 enthusiasm of youth. He is described as middle- 
 sized, but with great physical strength, well-propor- 
 tioned limbs, and regular features. 
 
 His hair was of a rich dark chestnut, his nose 
 aquiline, and his complexion sanguine. It was his 
 eyes, however, that impressed all beholders, for they 
 were quick and penetrating. They told of his high 
 soul and undaunted spirit, of his generous heart and 
 purity of life, in an age distinguished by its immo- 
 rality ; and while those dark grey orbs struck terror 
 into an enemy's heart, their fierce glance would 
 soften when he gazed on the face of a friend. 
 ' Montrose,' as an old writer says, was ' exceeding 
 constant to those that did adhere to him, and to 
 those he knew, very affable. 
 
 His manners matched his face and figure. They 
 
 were courtly, though perhaps a little stately ; while 
 
 o
 
 236 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 his habitual gravity — for he is said to have rarely 
 smiled after his sovereign's martyrdom — made 
 strangers believe him very proud. 
 
 Even his enemies, while attempting to blacken a 
 character which history has since vindicated, never 
 denied his talents. To energy of character was 
 added a clear, far-seeing judgment ; and where 
 others had hesitated and paused for reflection, 
 Montrose, seeing with a glance what was the best 
 course to take, was prompt and decisive in action. 
 This was the secret of his success. Such was the 
 man who, with a handful of troops, chiefly foreigners, 
 officered by Scotchmen, and barely five hundred in 
 number, determined to invade Scotland. 
 
 Throughout Scotland the Whigs denounced him 
 as ' that wicked and excommunicated traitor, James 
 Graham ! ' and hastened to reply to his declaration 
 by one of their own ; while the Presbyterian clergy 
 lost no time in warning their flocks to beware of 
 that ' insolent braggart,' while secretly fearing the 
 prowess and success of one whom they knew as no 
 vainglorious foe. 
 
 Leslie was desired, as commander-in-chief, to 
 quickly get together all available troops. It was 
 no easy matter to do so as urgently as was needed, 
 for the army was scattered all over the kingdom, 
 and could not at a moment's notice be reassembled.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 237 
 
 Before sailing for Scotland, Montrose had had a 
 last interview with the Second Charles at the Hague, 
 and was invested by him with the title of Lieutenant- 
 Governor of Scotland, and had given him full sanc- 
 tion for the enterprise. 
 
 Montrose then made a tour through the Northern 
 States of Europe, with a view to obtaining assistance 
 from foreign princes ; for even he dared not under- 
 take the invasion of a kingdom without money and 
 arms. 
 
 The enthusiasm of Charles's ambassador, and the 
 earnestness with which Montrose pleaded his master's 
 cause, dwelling on the distracted state of his country, 
 and the great crime the Republicans had committed 
 in putting Charles to death, met with a generous 
 response from the King of Denmark, the Queen of 
 Sweden, and several lesser potentates. The King 
 of Denmark gave him a large sum of money, the 
 Queen of Sweden placed fifteen hundred stand of 
 arms at his disposal, and the Duke of Holstein 
 offered him five large ships and seven or eight 
 hundred soldiers, which offers the Marquis joyfully 
 accepted. 
 
 Other princes promised aid ; but when the time 
 arrived when Montrose, depending on their promises, 
 expected soldiers, money, and arms, they failed to 
 keep their faith ; probably deterred from propping
 
 238 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 up a falling cause after the first reverse of his 
 arms. 
 
 Scotland was thoroughly subdued by Argyle's 
 party, and the Independents had obtained complete 
 ascendency, although the Cavaliers — a numerous 
 party — were beginning to rebel against the oppres- 
 sions of that upstart faction, and had secretly assured 
 Montrose that they were ready to support him as 
 soon as he landed in Scotland. 
 
 The arrogance of the Presbyterians was indeed 
 sufficient to disgust all moderate men. Not con- 
 tent with denouncing Episcopacy from the pulpit, 
 they proscribed all who did not agree in their 
 rigid religious views ; and a system of persecu- 
 tion ensued, which was as great and oppressive as 
 any hitherto endured in the annals of history. The 
 upper classes in Scotland were generally Episco- 
 palian ; and the proscribed party included so many 
 of the aristocracy, that the nobility were but scantily 
 represented in the Scottish Parliament, and on one 
 occasion, in 1649, only four 'lords' were among the 
 barons and burgesses. 
 
 Argyle's spies were scattered over the kingdom, 
 and any who dared to differ from the prevailing 
 party were subjected to every species of persecution, 
 and heavily fined if they resisted. 
 
 The Cavaliers therefore having placed all their
 
 The Vow of Montrose, I'^c^ 
 
 hopes on the King's restoration, readily promised 
 Montrose their support ; and the Duke of Ormond 
 succeeding in Ireland, where he had taken up the 
 royal cause, Montrose trusted that as soon as he 
 landed he might possibly receive help from that 
 quarter. 
 
 But the first beginning of his campaign proved 
 disastrous. The ships and troops given him by 
 his foreign friends were kept waiting a long time 
 off Holland, owing to the neglect of Montrose's 
 agent. Colonel Ogilvie, whom he had sent to 
 Amsterdam to look after them ; while another of 
 his agents, one Colonel Cochran, whom he had 
 employed to raise money in Poland, turned against 
 him, and appropriated a large sum that had been 
 contributed towards the expedition by Scotchmen 
 in that country. 
 
 These vexatious circumstances, however, were 
 capped by a far more serious misfortune. The Earl 
 of Morton had promised to receive Montrose's 
 first detachment of troops in Orkney, and accord- 
 ingly twelve hundred foreign soldiers were shipped 
 from Gottenburg in September 1649; but when 
 they got off the dangerous Orkney coast, two 
 of the ships were lost in a storm, with all their 
 crews, as well as the greater part of the arms the 
 Marquis had collected. In this way a thousand
 
 240 The Fiery Cross ; or^ 
 
 soldiers perished out of the twelve hundred de- 
 spatched from Germany. Two hundred only 
 landed at Kirkwall, where the Earl of Morton at 
 once joined them. 
 
 The Earl had been induced to take this course 
 of action by a definite promise from Charles that 
 he would, after his restoration, reward his services 
 by the gift of some church lands in that part of 
 Scotland, 
 
 The gentry were well affected to Charles's cause, 
 and with their help Lord Morton took, after some 
 resistance, a fortress called Birsay, and garrisoned 
 it for Montrose. 
 
 Morton, however, had a quarrel with the Earl 
 of Kinnoul, his own nephew, as to which of them 
 should command the troops until the Marquis 
 arrived ; the latter asserting that he had the sole 
 right to do so, as Montrose had given him a com- 
 mission to that effect. 
 
 The dispute between the two Earls had such an 
 effect on Morton's mind, that, as already stated, he 
 died broken-hearted. Kinnoul's death also took 
 place before Montrose landed, so that from Sep- 
 tember to March 1650 but little progress was 
 made in raising troops in the Orkney Islands, and 
 Montrose found scarcely anything done, when at last 
 he once more set foot on Scottish ground.
 
 The Vozv of Montrose. 241 
 
 Orkney was undefended by the Parliamentary 
 troops, and the gentry were loyal to the King ; 
 but the Orcadians were unwarlike, undisciplined, 
 and Montrose had no cavalry to protect such 
 irregular troops. 
 
 The first act of the Marquis, when resolved on 
 this expedition, had been to issue a proclamation, 
 or defence of his reasons for invading Scotland. 
 This document was circulated in Scotland before 
 he landed, and had been answered, as we have 
 seen, by a counter-declaration by the Whig party, 
 in which they denounced Montrose in no measured 
 language. 
 
 While the little vessel that was bearing Montrose 
 and his gallant companions across the seas was 
 tossing about, detained by contrary winds, threat- 
 ened by storms, and yet safely bearing him to his 
 destiny, how many a bitter thought must not that 
 loyal-hearted Cavalier have given to Charles's weak- 
 ness of character ! Educated under his mother's 
 baleful influence, and hating the Covenanters, the 
 Prince had not been, as our hero well knew, wholly 
 true either to him or to his mission. 
 
 True it was that Charles had received Montrose 
 warmly at the Hague, and had professed for him 
 the greatest gratitude, while he ratified his former 
 military commission, and gave him full powers to
 
 242 The Fiery Cross ; or^ 
 
 levy money and troops in the royal cause both 
 in Scotland and abroad ; but while loading his 
 father's staunch servant with honours, he was also 
 in secret treaty with the Covenanters ! Montrose 
 therefore hoped to strike such a decisive blow as 
 should ensure success to the royal cause, and deter 
 the young King from listening to those whom he 
 justly deemed his implacable foes. 
 
 It must have seemed indeed scarcely credible to 
 Montrose that Charles could listen to the Scottish 
 Commissioners, whose strict ideas of morality and 
 doleful faces were by no means to the Prince's 
 taste. But Charles had no steady principle. He 
 thought to keep them in play till he saw how 
 Montrose succeeded. The Scotch professed to be 
 willing to declare him Scotland's only rightful 
 king, but that act was only to take place should 
 he promise strict oocdience to the Covenant, and 
 to new obligations and oaths framed according to 
 their own sectarian views. 
 
 The Commissioners who had been sent to the 
 Hague were all Republicans ; and though forced, 
 by the turn matters had taken, to recognise Charles, 
 were anxious to do so only in such a manner as 
 would cripple his prerogative as king, and banish 
 from his Court all those who had looked on Charles 
 the First's execution as regicide. Their hatred
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 2^^ 
 
 was principally levelled against Montrose, whose 
 determination and bravery they knew would be 
 exerted to avenge the King's death, and even 
 Argyle and all who had consented to it. 
 
 Montrose's acute mind saw all the dangers that 
 vacillation in Charles would produce ; and as he 
 stepped ashore, in the month of March 1650, it 
 was with a burning desire to frustrate the secret 
 plots and treaties into which he feared the King 
 might be induced to enter, unless he could be be- 
 forehand with the Covenanters. 
 
 If Montrose had needed any proof of the distrust 
 and aversion he felt towards the party then treat- 
 ins" with Charles, he must have found it in the 
 execution of the gallant Marquis of Huntly, who, 
 for no crime except that Argyle hated and feared 
 him as a rival, had been beheaded the very day on 
 which the Commissioners had been despatched to 
 Holland to treat with Charles. The Marquis of 
 Huntly had been Montrose's rival in the earlier 
 times of the Covenant, and it is said that Huntly 
 never forgave his conduct in those days when our 
 hero was a Covenanter. 
 
 Had it not been for that early difference, two 
 such loyal and staunch Cavaliers must have been 
 firm friends. Huntly's character was as gallant 
 and noble as that of Montrose. He was one of the
 
 244 ^'^^ Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 most powerful chieftains in the Highlands. He 
 was head of the Gordons, — that brave clan, whose 
 badge, a spray of ivy, was a fit emblem of fidelity, 
 — and his high rank and great possessions made 
 him formidable as a foe and powerful as a friend. 
 
 The Marquis and his followers — ' stout men and 
 true, who for King Charles wore blue ' — were the 
 last who laid down arms for the royal cause, after 
 the King's imprisonment by the English Repub- 
 licans. At last, however, the Presbyterian army 
 took Huntly prisoner, and — as already mentioned — 
 he was thrown into the common jail in Edinburgh ; 
 and the very day that the Scottish Commissioners 
 sailed on their mission to the young King, that 
 gallant nobleman was executed. 
 
 Montrose had sailed from Gottenburg in Decem- 
 ber, and it was March, 1650, when, accompanied 
 by his natural brother. Sir Harry Graham, his old 
 adversary and now warm friend Sir John Hurry, 
 Viscount Frendraught, and five other loyal 
 Cavaliers of note and distinction, he arrived in 
 Orkney. The perilous voyage and shipwreck that 
 the first party met with reduced Montrose's forces 
 to five hundred foreign soldiers, and these were 
 reinforced by two hundred more, under the com- 
 mand of Lord Kinnoul, who had garrisoned Birsay 
 Castle.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 245 
 
 Montrose must have felt bitterly mortified to find 
 how small a number of soldiers he could muster 
 round his black flag, then the royal standard, as 
 emblematical of the Marquis's desire for vengeance. 
 It bore ghastly inscriptions, with a device of three 
 hands clasped in a cloud, from the centre of which 
 branched out three naked arms and hands grasping 
 bare swords, intended to designate the kingdoms of 
 England, Scotland, and Ireland ; while on it was 
 this passage from the 43d Psalm, in capital letters : 
 
 ' Judge and avenge my cause, O Lord. ' 
 
 The flag borne by the foot soldiers was also black, 
 and had painted on it a picture of the late King's 
 head, from which blood was represented as dripping. 
 On that standard, these Latin words were displayed : 
 
 'Deo et hie tricibus amiis.' 
 
 On the Marquis's own banner of white damask was 
 the Scottish lion rampant on the top of a rock, 
 through a cleft of which ran a gory stream, with the 
 embroidered motto, * Nil medium.' 
 
 The natural position of Orkney prevented the 
 Presbyterians from attempting to attack Montrose 
 as long as he remained there. 
 
 The Whigs had publicly burned his declaration 
 the month before, at the Cross of Edinburgh,
 
 246 The Fiery Ci'oss ; or, 
 
 denouncing him, by the mouths of their active 
 partisans, the Presbyterian clergy, in such terms as 
 these — 
 
 ' That bloody cut-throat, truculent tyrant, and 
 excommunicated traitor, James Graham;' or, 'the 
 perjured Covenanter, with his Hieland limmers and 
 vipers, the limbs of Satan and brood of hell !' 
 
 But hard words hurt not, and for the three weeks 
 of his stay in Orkney, Montrose was safe from his 
 enemies. 
 
 The gentlemen of those parts were all loyal and 
 devoted to the King's cause ; and with the assistance 
 that they rendered him as soon as he unfurled his 
 sombre standard, he was able to muster eight hun- 
 dred Islanders among his forces. Though by those 
 means his little army amounted in round numbers to 
 fifteen hundred men, the Orcadians were so unwar- 
 like in their habits, — being principally fishermen and 
 farmers, — that for all practical purposes he could 
 only rely on his foreign troops. 
 
 His devoted follower Allaster MacColkeitoch was 
 all this time fighting against Cromwell's soldiers in 
 Ireland, and with him were Glengarry and Mac- 
 donald of Clanranald, who, had they been in Scot- 
 land, would have rallied to his side ; so that Mon- 
 trose found himself at the head of a very different 
 army from that to which he had been accustomed,
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 247 
 
 when at the sign of the Fiery Cross each resolute 
 Redshank had ' followed his chief to the field.' 
 
 Thus the second campaign began with every 
 element of failure in its composition. Yet, with his 
 usual enthusiasm, Montrose still hoped for victory, 
 although to any one less sanguine, victory from the 
 first seemed hopeless. 
 
 It was chiefly the peasantry of Pomona whom 
 Montrose enlisted during his three weeks' residence 
 in the Orkney Isles. 
 
 The Islesmen of those out-of-the-way parts were 
 ignorant and uncivilised. They had probably never 
 seen a buff coat or handled firearms before Montrose 
 bid them enlist for their King, determined to raise an 
 army, however rough might be the men composing it. 
 
 The Orcadians were at that time grossly super- 
 stitious. They believed in the curious old folks' 
 stories about witchcraft and the powers of Satan ; 
 and here too, in common with their neighbours in 
 the Hebrides, they commonly believed that all 
 drowned persons became seals. There is a legend 
 in accordance with this superstition, about a High- 
 land chief, named Macphee of Colonsay, which is 
 worth quoting. 
 
 This Highland chief was standing one day by the 
 sea-shore, when he descried on a lonely rock a lovely 
 maiden combing out her yellow locks.
 
 248 
 
 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 The chief was so struck with her beauty, that he 
 determined to catch her. He unmoored his boat 
 and rowed swiftly forward, taking care that she did 
 not see him. Arrived at the rock, where he found a 
 seal's skin, which proved that she was a mermaiden, 
 he seized it, and so prevented the lovely maiden 
 from again transforming herself into a seal. In- 
 stead of restoring her mantle, however, he gave her 
 his plaid, wrapped up in which he rowed her to land, 
 and bore his prize safely home to his castle on the 
 island. 
 
 Then, again, the Islanders were accustomed to 
 exercise their fishing boats before starting on a 
 cruise. This was done in the early morning, by 
 filling the tapholes with water. Then, as the sun 
 was rising, the fishermen would pull out to sea, and 
 burning a waxen figure in the boat's centre, and 
 crying, * Satan, avaunt,' felt that the evil spirit was 
 chased away, and that they might safely embark for 
 the trip ! 
 
 Others, if the wind rose and the waves tossed 
 high, would try and propitiate the elements by 
 dashing water on a famous blue stone kept on the 
 altar of the shrine of St. Columba, or by throwing 
 money into a church built in honour of St. Ronald. 
 
 Such ignorant and undisciplined fishermen were 
 ill calculated to replace the ardent and resolute
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 249 
 
 Redshanks, who had fought so bravely in Mon- 
 trose's first campaign. 
 
 When the Marquis had enlisted as many as he 
 could, his next measure was to get the means of 
 transporting them across the Pentland Frith. 
 
 He therefore laid forcible hands on some old 
 fishing smacks, and embarked his soldiers at a place 
 called Holm Sound, a bay in Pomona, and sailing 
 safely across landed them at John O'Groat's House, 
 a place in Caithness. The Marquis had the satis- 
 faction of feeling that he had not lost a single man 
 on the passage. 
 
 The Cavaliers had been over sanguine about their 
 reception on the mainland. Montrose had hoped to 
 enlist in Sutherland, Ross, and Caithness at least 
 three large regiments ; but the peasantry had been 
 tutored from the pulpits of the Kirk to consider 
 'James Graham' a cruel and devastating foe, and 
 a general exodus took place when news arrived of 
 his vicinity. Some, rather than remain to meet 
 him, escaped and made their way to Edinburgh, 
 three hundred miles away. 
 
 Montrose acted with his usual energy. He pro- 
 claimed the King, unfurled his black flag, and bid 
 all swear allegiance to the throne ; but in one 
 instance, a Presbyterian clergyman preferred martyr- 
 dom to compliance.
 
 250 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 'What! swear allegiance to one whose first act 
 would be to restore Episcopacy ! rather would he 
 die !' So Montrose sent him in fetters on board one 
 of his ships to repent his imprudence at leisure. One 
 cannot but respect the minister for his consistency. 
 
 In the meantime, the Whigs were making active 
 preparations to meet Montrose. While Leslie was 
 ordered to collect all available troops at Brechin, a 
 skilful soldier and Covenanter was despatched north- 
 wards, at the head of two hundred men, to help the 
 Earl of Sutherland, who was then busy in raising 
 soldiers to oppose the Cavalier army. Strachan was 
 rapidly followed by Leslie with three thousand foot 
 soldiers, marching thirty miles a day — so eager was 
 their leader to meet Montrose. 
 
 The Marquis felt deeply mortified to see how 
 prejudiced his countrymen were against him ; but 
 he knew that there was also a large and dis- 
 tinguished number of Highlanders ready to rise 
 and help him, and he daily hoped to see them reach 
 his camp. 
 
 Alas ! his hope was never realized. He knew 
 not the failure of that rising which, headed by the 
 Earl of Seaforth, had by that time been crushed 
 by the implacable Covenanters under Colonel 
 Strachan, — the very same soldier now marching 
 onwards to meet him.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 25 i 
 
 A little body of gallant Highlanders, owning no 
 sympathy with the sour-faced Presbyterians, had 
 eagerly waited Montrose's arrival. 
 
 They had been too eager, as the issue showed. 
 On marched their gallant band under Mackenzies, 
 with historic names ; for the Lairds of Pluscardine, 
 Redcastle, Lakehouse, and Pennicke were all there, 
 with the brave clan Macpherson ; and they reached 
 Inverness unmolested after crossing the River Spey. 
 
 Their arrival, two thousand strong, took the garri- 
 son by surprise, and the castle soon fell into their 
 hands. After demolishing that ancient edifice, and 
 carrying all before them through Morayland, they 
 encountered at Baldenie a large body of Lowland 
 cavalry, headed by the Whig Colonels Halket, Kerr, 
 and Strachan. 
 
 Not all the gallantry of rnen descended from 
 intrepid Gaelic ancestors could avail. They fought 
 as befitted those who wore badges of holly and box- 
 wood ; but eighty warriors fell to rise no more, and 
 eight hundred were taken prisoners, and with them 
 all their chieftains. 
 
 The defeat of this enterprise emboldened the 
 Covenanters ; but while Strachan and his comrades 
 were putting down what is called ' Pluscardine's 
 raid,' Montrose day by day hoped to see the High- 
 landers who had failed in that enterprise join him 
 
 K
 
 252 
 
 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 in Sutherlandshire. The Earl of Sutherland was 
 a Covenanter, and a great and powerful chief- 
 tain. 
 
 He felt naturally alarmed lest Montrose should 
 attack his castles of Dunrobin, Skibo, Skelbo, 
 and Dornoch ; and the * Morar Chattu ' hastened to 
 place garrisons into those seats. Montrose, however, 
 did not attempt to attack them, but passed them by 
 without firing a shot, warning the Earl, nevertheless, 
 that he should not continue to be so forbearing, and 
 that some of his Cavalier neighbours would lay 
 waste his lands should he remain hostile to the 
 royal cause. 
 
 Little heeded by the Earl of Sutherland were 
 those threats, for he knew that four thousand Low- 
 landers were on their way to meet the Cavaliers, 
 and were actually at Tain, twenty miles off; while 
 Montrose's little band, weakened by desertion, 
 scarcely numbered twelve hundred. 
 
 All this time, not knowing that Seaforth's rising 
 had failed, Montrose counted on the aid of Pluscar- 
 dine's followers ; but hearing and seeing nothing of 
 them, he thought it more prudent to halt before 
 descending further on the Lowlands. 
 
 He therefore encamped at the top of the Frith of 
 Dornoch, in a valley called Stratheckle, near the 
 junction of Ross and Sutherlandshire. This was
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 253 
 
 six days after the Cavaliers had entered the Earl's 
 county. 
 
 Being a good general, he had endeavoured to 
 secure the means of retreat should the necessity for 
 it arise. With that object he had divided his little 
 army into two columns. One column he despatched 
 southwards to secure the Castle of Dunbeath, which 
 belonged to Sir John Sinclair. 
 
 Sir John was absent, but Lady Sinclair had placed 
 herself at the head of the garrison left to defend it. 
 With bugles sounding the Cavaliers approached 
 Dunbeath, and Lady Sinclair, in her husband's 
 absence, determined to make no resistance. 
 
 Sir John Hurry, who knew its natural advantages 
 for defence, was agreeably surprised to find Lady 
 Sinclair disposed to make none ; and in return for 
 her ready compliance, made honourable terms with 
 her, and allowed the dame to leave it unharmed, 
 accompanied by all her servants. 
 
 Well might the Cavaliers have wished to take 
 Dunbeath ; for, built on a high rock, at the foot of 
 which dashed the ocean, a drawbridge alone con- 
 nected it with the mainland, and that, when drawn 
 up, made it almost impregnable. 
 
 Montrose's brother, Harry Graham, was left in 
 command of it, with a garrison of a few men. Sir 
 John Hurry then rejoined the Marquis. 
 
 1
 
 254 
 
 The Fiery d'oss ; or, 
 
 All this time the enemies of Montrose had been 
 planning his destruction. The Earl of Sutherland, 
 who knew the country thoroughly well, had advised 
 with the Covenanting generals on the best course to 
 pursue. They agreed to surround him on all sides, 
 and make retreat impossible. 
 
 Had Montrose been able to communicate with his 
 friends, he would have heard of the large army 
 hurrying up to attack him ; but Sutherland had 
 shut off all passages for receiving intelligence, and 
 Montrose's Orcadians and foreign soldiers made bad 
 scouts, owing to their ignorance of the country. 
 
 After securing, as he believed, a retreat to Dun- 
 beath, Montrose's next step was to get possession of 
 the Hill of Ord. He therefore sent five hundred 
 men to seize it. That huge mountain of granite, 
 twelve hundred feet high, formed a pass from the 
 county of Sutherland into that of Ross. It was so 
 narrow that only three men could ride abreast along 
 it. The ' Morar Chattu' knew its importance, and 
 tried to reach it before him, but he retired without 
 disputing the passage with the Royalists. 
 
 This had taken place before Montrose himself 
 passed over the Ord into Sutherlandshire ; and as 
 soon as the Covenanters found he had done so, the 
 Earl of Sutherland, by taking a southern route, cut 
 off his retreat, while it was agreed that Strachan
 
 The Vow of Montj'ose. 255 
 
 should attack him in the front, at the head of the 
 Munroes and men of Ross, Leslie's men bringing up 
 the rear. 
 
 Meanwhile, halting at Stratheckle, and ignorant 
 of the vicinity of Strachan's troops, — for the * Morar 
 Chattu's' gillies had watched the Cavaliers so nar- 
 rowly that no communication from their friends had 
 been suffered to reach them, nor yet any tidings of 
 the Lowlanders' approach, — the little band awaited 
 its doom. 
 
 Each hour Montrose hoped for the advent of 
 those true and loyal Mackenzies under Seaforth and 
 Pluscardine, while all that time some lay slain, and 
 some were in prison, mourning their ruined hopes, 
 and reaping the reward accorded by the Covenanters 
 to their loyalty and valour. 
 
 The Covenanters, under experienced generals, 
 were within twenty miles of Montrose, and marching 
 towards his camp, before he became aware of even 
 their vicinity. 
 
 The day, Saturday the 27th of April 1650, was 
 memorable. To the Orcadians among the Cavaliers 
 it must have been an ill omen that the battle should 
 fall on that day of the week. They believed it to be 
 * uncanny ' to begin anything important on that day. 
 They would not marry on Saturdays, nor in the 
 month of May, both times being considered unlucky.
 
 256 The Fiery Cross; or. 
 
 The Covenanters, who very properly respected the 
 keeping of Sunday, hesitated about fighting, for 
 fear that the battle might not be ended on the 
 ' Lord's day ; ' but at length it was decided to wait 
 no longer for an encounter that Montrose himself 
 had advanced to begin. 
 
 The Cavaliers having at length become aware of 
 the enemy's presence, Montrose sent off a body of 
 infantry to reconnoitre. 
 
 The Covenanters finding that Montrose had taken 
 that step, and after breaking up his camp at Strath- 
 eckle advanced two miles nearer to Carbisdale, 
 determined by a ruse to mislead Montrose into the 
 belief that his adversary's forces were but a few in 
 number. The Covenanters knelt down in the soft 
 deep broom that grew so luxuriantly in those parts, 
 and therefore Montrose's scouts only discovered a 
 few horsemen. 
 
 They hurried back to Montrose, who, thus misled, 
 believed that he had only to contend with Strachan's 
 forlorn hope, and therefore calmly awaited their 
 approach on a low piece of ground near a river 
 called the Kyle. But soon he heard another tale ; 
 for in the distance he perceives advancing squadron 
 after squadron. Strachan's army was artfully dis- 
 posed, and looked more numerous than it really was. 
 
 Strachan led the advanced guard of a hundred
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 257 
 
 horsemen himself ; then followed another column of 
 about eighty men under Colonel Halket ; the third 
 Captain Hutchinson commanded ; and the rear, 
 composed of all foot soldiers, was officered by the 
 Quartermaster Shaw. Montrose's little force of 
 foreign soldiers, Orcadian peasantry, and a few 
 Highlanders, were marshalled at the foot of a hill 
 called in Gaelic * Craigcaoin Eadhan,' — * The Rock 
 of Lamentation,' — which name it has held even to 
 our own day. 
 
 The fact that Montrose had no cavalry made the 
 combat more than ever unequal. He and a few 
 officers of his staff alone were mounted. He 
 entrusted the King's black standard to a gallant 
 young Cavalier, Gilbert Menzies of Pitfoddels, who 
 defended it to the last. 
 
 The Covenanters paused before beginning the 
 conflict, to sing psalms and read passages from 
 Scripture, calling on God to defend their cause in 
 battle, as in olden times He had befriended the 
 children of Israel. 
 
 Placing his hand on the standard of the Covenant, 
 the Puritan leader stood opposite Montrose's little 
 force, and pointing them out to his soldiers, cried, 
 ' Behold yonder men ! They are not only our 
 enemies, but those of the Lord Jesus Christ. This 
 last night, I have been dealing with the Almighty
 
 258 
 
 The Fiery Ci^oss ; or, 
 
 God, to know the result of this affair, and I have 
 gotten it ; for as sure as He is in heaven, they are 
 delivered into our hands, and not a man of us shall 
 fall to the ground.' 
 
 As he finished this presumptuous and blas- 
 phemous speech, Strachan led his men on to 
 battle ; but he first of all rode forward alone, at 
 the head of his 'forlorn hope,' and desired the 
 infantry to crouch down among the broom and 
 heather in order to deceive Montrose as to his 
 numbers. 
 
 The great Marquis, who no doubt had offered up 
 a silent prayer for success, remained stationary, till 
 he saw in the distance a long line of Covenanters 
 behind Strachan's horse. The Marquis strains his 
 sight again, and needs no other glance to show him 
 Halket's lancers, and Hutchinson's cuirassiers, with 
 their steel caps, gorgets, and breast-plates, their 
 weapons being lances, swords, and pistols, all glitter- 
 ing in the sunlight of an April day ; and behind 
 them the musqueteers and the Sutherland men. He 
 sees that he is caught by stratagem, and fears 
 that all Leslie's men are behind this advanced 
 
 guard. 
 
 The musqueteers spring up from the heather, 
 and carrying their weapons pointed towards the 
 Cavaliers, advance in steady order. Montrose gives
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 259 
 
 hurried commands to his men to retreat to the hill 
 behind them. 
 
 It was steep and craggy, but sheltered by a 
 wood. If they gain it, thinks their leader, they may 
 defy the Covenanters. The lancers, dragoons, and 
 cuirassiers will be powerless if the Cavaliers can 
 but reach the hill in good order before Strachan is 
 upon them. Their retreat, however, became dis- 
 orderly in the extreme. The Orcadians, seeing their 
 dangerous position, ran rather than marched, and 
 Montrose finds his enemy's horse among his buff- 
 coats before they could reach tlie rocks. 
 
 The Islanders scarcely made any resistance. 
 Most of them threw down their arms, and begged 
 for quarter. Oh for the Redshanks of old ! They 
 would have fought to the last, and as valiantly as 
 did Montrose, Hurry, Menzies of Pitfoddels, Powrie, 
 Ogiivie, and all the brave Cavaliers on that fatal 
 day. Alas ! the day was all too quickly lost ; and 
 ere the sun began to set, the star of the great Mar- 
 quis, Scotland's greatest hero, sank to rise no more 
 
 The Dutch soldiers behaved admirably ; and after 
 managing to get into the shelter of some trees, for a 
 long time kept the enemy's horse at bay, till at 
 length, overcome by superior numbers, they were 
 forced to surrender. 
 
 The Orkney men made no such resistance, but
 
 •I 
 
 260 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 fled like a flock of sheep, and were driven into the 
 river, where two hundred were drowned, while several 
 were made prisoners. 
 
 Montrose fought like a hero till the last. His 
 rich Cavalier dress, his plumed hat, and above all the 
 diamond Star and Ribbon of the Garter, made him 
 a conspicuous figure in that fearful scene of blood 
 and carnage. Yet, though fighting in the foremost 
 ranks, the bullets failed to reach him ; and even 
 after his horse was killed under him, he fought on, 
 while young Menzies, bearing the King's standard, 
 strove to encourage the men. Twenty times, some 
 say thirty, that brave fellow, refusing quarter, de- 
 fended the standard entrusted to him by Montrose, 
 till a bullet struck him through the heart, and with 
 a smile on his face he fell to the ground, his right 
 hand, even in death, still grasping the precious 
 charge. Not till twelve of his bravest officers had 
 been killed by his side, and he himself had been 
 badly wounded, would Montrose confess to failure. 
 Then he was dragged off the field by his faithful 
 friend James Crichton, Viscount Frendraught. Per- 
 ceiving that his army were all routed, drowned, or 
 prisoners, Montrose determined to save his life by 
 flight. He had sought death among his soldiers, 
 but found it not. He had no horse ; and Lord 
 Frendraught urged him to use his. When Montrose
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 261 
 
 remonstrated with him, he begged him to mount 
 without a moment's delay. 
 
 ' What matters my life ?' exclaimed this noble 
 Scotchman, assisting Montrose into the saddle. 
 
 * Save yourself, for the sake of the King's good 
 cause !' 
 
 Lord Kinnoul, Sir Edward Sinclair, Major Sinclair 
 of Brim, and a few others, fighting their way off the 
 field of battle, then escaped. 
 
 It was about six o'clock in the evening when, with 
 their general's flight, the battle ended. 
 
 A short hour's bloody work, and all Montrose's 
 hopes were ruined. The carnage went on yet for a 
 little while, as the Covenanters pursued their foe, 
 and made the greater number prisoners. Nearly 
 four hundred were killed, including twelve officers 
 who fell by their general's side ; and it is said that so 
 many Orcadians fell by that ' Rock of Lamentation,' 
 that there was hardly a family in those islands who 
 did not lose a relative that bloody day. 
 
 Strachan himself escaped unwounded, owing to 
 Uie thickness of his buff coat ; two only of the Cove- 
 nanters were killed, and one was drowned. 
 
 The generous Frendraught, nephew to the Earl of 
 Sutherland, having no horse, was wounded and soon 
 made prisoner. Lord Sutherland sent him to Dun- 
 robin Castle, to be cured of his wounds ; but Hurry
 
 262 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 and the other ofificers, among whom were both 
 Scottish noblemen and Cavahers of noble family, 
 with several Dutch and Swedish officers, were sent 
 cfif to Edinburgh, where they were imprisoned for a 
 time, many being ultimately exiled or executed. 
 
 When the Covenanters seized the King's standards, 
 and among them the black flag, bearing an effigy on 
 it of their martyred sovereign's gory head, their 
 exultation knew no bounds. Collecting together 
 those gallant and unfortunate gentlemen and men 
 who had fallen into their hands as prisoners, they 
 prepared to return to the Covenanters' headquarters 
 at Tain, fourteen miles off. What must not the 
 Cavaliers have felt, as they heard their captors 
 return thanks to God for their victory ! Doubtless, 
 even in the midst of their own misery, they groaned 
 in spirit at the prospect of what Montrose's own 
 sad fate would be ! 
 
 The Sutherland men pursued the stragglers, and 
 for the few following days slaughtered all whom 
 they captured ; but Strachan's men marched back 
 at once to Tain, 
 
 The Parliament considered that Strachan had 
 effectually quelled what they termed the rebellion, 
 and publicly thanked him for his services, giving 
 him i^iooo, and a valuable gold chain and diamond 
 clasp as a reward for such great deeds. One triumph
 
 The Vow of Montrose, 26 
 
 o 
 
 only was needed. In spite of the long line of noble 
 prisoners whom Strachan sent to Edinburgh, 
 Argyle's hatred and thirst for blood remained un- 
 quenched as long as the hills and wilds of Scotland 
 sheltered the great but hapless Montrose. 
 
 Who that reads this old but ever romantic tale 
 will not understand the bitterness that filled the 
 hero's breast, as, faint from his wounds, his rich 
 clothes torn and soiled, his heart broken, he rides off 
 the field, followed by his few remaining companions ? 
 To Montrose that terrible word failure meant the 
 ruin of all his hopes of glory, the loss of King 
 Charles's cause, the captivity and death of friends, 
 and his own peril ; for well he knew the Covenanters 
 would never rest till he was taken ! 
 
 Silent, despairing, almost aimless, the little party 
 had halted, after an hour's hard riding put them 
 for the moment beyond the reach of their enemy. 
 A brief conference ends with a mutual agreement 
 that it is best to part. There is no chance of 
 safety for Montrose as long as so many keep to- 
 gether. 
 
 The farewell, spoken in the gloaming — for it was 
 about seven o'clock in the evening — must have been 
 indeed a sad one. Hands are clasped that would 
 never meet again. As the great Montrose rides 
 slowly off with Kinnoul and Sinclair as his only
 
 264 
 
 The Fiery Cross ; or. 
 
 companions, his friends feel that their parting is 
 their last on earth. 
 
 After wandering about along the river-side till 
 nearly midnight, Montrose threw off his velvet 
 cloak, his diamond star, and sword. The wanderers 
 met a Highlander among the straths and glades of 
 the lonely country. The rustic stared with amaze- 
 ment when Montrose proposed an exchange of 
 clothes ; but he consented, and the exchange was 
 made, the Marquis going forward in the guise of a 
 simple Highlander. 
 
 He and Lord Kinnoul wandered about all that 
 miserable night, till the latter dropped down from 
 sheer exhaustion, and is supposed to have perished 
 of hunger, leaving only Major Sinclair with Mon- 
 trose. 
 
 Montrose and his remaining companion thought 
 to wander on towards Caithness, and make their 
 way to Dunbeath, in which castle his brother Harry 
 Graham still maintained his ground at the head of a 
 hundred men. Had he been able to reach Dunbeath 
 in safety, he could then have escaped by Orkney 
 over to France ; but he knew nothing of the wild 
 and desolate locality ; and while he trudged on, 
 hoping and believing that he was nearing friends, he 
 was in reality getting more and more into the hands 
 of his enemies.
 
 The Vozv of Montrose. 265 
 
 Added to grief and sorrow, the gallant Montrose 
 endured, as night drew on, all the pangs of hunger 
 and thirst. It was perilous to demand rest and 
 shelter at any of the solitary huts along the way ; 
 but as morning broke on the second day, he ven- 
 tured to beg a poor Highland woman to give him a 
 little milk. Touched with his miserable plight, and 
 merely supposing the wounded man to be some poor 
 fugitive from Invercarron, she gave him some bread 
 and milk, the first food (except wild berries) that 
 this once great Marquis had tasted for two nights 
 and a day ! 
 
 Renovated and grateful, his indomitable courage 
 returned. ' Despair,' he mused, ' is for cowards ! 
 One effort more, and I shall be at Dunbeath ! ' 
 
 At last, after another long day of hunger, in 
 which he was fain to make a sorry meal of his 
 leathern gloves, Montrose discovered that, instead 
 of being near Dunbeath, his wanderings had been 
 merely in a circle. He then determined to throw 
 himself upon the mercy of Neil Macleod, Baron of 
 Assynt, who had once followed the royal banner, 
 although he was now a staunch Covenanter. 
 
 Leslie, however, was far too wary to neglect the 
 chance of securing Montrose's person. His enemies 
 had guessed his intention of trying to reach the 
 coast ; and as soon as Colonel Strachan had com-
 
 266 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 municated to Leslie the news of the victoiy at 
 Invercarron, that wily leader had sent off to the 
 Laird of Assynt, and bid him arrest every stranger 
 in the country, rather than that Montrose should 
 escape. 
 
 The Baron of Assynt was only too ready to 
 secure the large sum the Parliament offered for 
 Montrose's head, and he himself led an armed band 
 of vassals through every wood and valley in which 
 they fancied the Cavaliers might be concealed. 
 
 Other armed parties were despatched in various 
 directions, with orders to seize and bring in the 
 Marquis to their master, dead or alive. One of the 
 Laird's parties discovered Montrose at last, just as 
 he and his single companion felt that they were 
 sinking of starvation. 
 
 At first, the Highland gillies who found Montrose 
 scarcely believed that the half-starved, ragged, and 
 miserable object before them was the great and 
 glorious Montrose; but all doubt was dispelled when 
 they led him and his companion to their chief. 
 
 Montrose's wan face lighted up with a gleam of 
 hope when he found that his captor was Macleod of 
 Assynt. He did not for one moment believe that 
 his former comrade would betray him ; and the 
 two Cavaliers joyfully hoped that they had at last 
 found a friend and shelter.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 267 
 
 They were soon cruelly undeceived. Assynt, in 
 spite of the name he bore and the tartan that 
 covered his breast, proved traitor in very deed. No 
 considerations of friendship, no remembrances of 
 past times, when they had both followed the same 
 banner and fought for the same cause, moved the 
 stern chief to pity. 
 
 ' Kill me now,' pleaded the gallant Montrose, 
 ' rather than deliver me up into Leslie's hands ! ' 
 But no. Assynt's base soul longed for the reward, 
 and he would listen to no entreaties, but hardened 
 his heart against a sight that might well have melted 
 even an enemy's breast ; for nothing could be more 
 piteous than to see the courtly Montrose, who had 
 so often gloriously led his army to victory, reduced 
 to demand death from the wretched Macleod, rather 
 than be led a captive to Leslie. 
 
 There is a dreary tower, whose sides are washed 
 by a dark loch called Assynt, and Macleod shut up 
 the prisoners in that fortress of Ardvraich, till he 
 had sent Leslie word that the prize was secured. 
 
 The memory of this wretch was odious in the 
 Highlands for many generations, for hateful to the 
 Celtic race are treachery and inhospitality. After 
 Charles the Second's restoration in 1674, Macleod 
 was tried at Edinburgh for the part that he took 
 on this occasion, and only narrowly escaped death.
 
 268 The Fiery Cross; or. 
 
 It is pleasing to remember that the money reward 
 he had calculated on receiving was never his, and 
 that all this wretch ever got (in spite of the Scottish 
 Parliament voting him ' twenty-five thousand pounds 
 Scots ') was ' 400 bolls of damaged meal,' while his 
 name has been as much execrated as that of the 
 Campbells of Glenlyon about the massacre of Glen- 
 coe. Ruin fell on his race ; for the Mackenzies, 
 Mackays, and Macdonnells of Glengarry burst into 
 Assynt as soon as they dared, and laid his land 
 desolate with fire and sword. But let us not name 
 him aeain, for he met with his deserts ; and 
 treachery, even in this world, is always and surely 
 punished. 
 
 General Leslie lost no time in sending to Ardvraich 
 in answer to Assynt's message. When Montrose 
 saw the Covenanters arrive, he knew that the bitter- 
 ness of death was indeed begun. He needed no 
 warnine to tell him that the hatred of his enemies 
 would only be slacked when his blood should have 
 flowed on the block. 
 
 Happy had he been to have met death then and 
 there ; but the victim was to be conveyed in triumph 
 to Edinburgh. 
 
 Strachan had already been rewarded for his ser- 
 vices with money and jewels ; and after despatching 
 orders to Leslie to send Montrose at once to Edin-
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 269 
 
 burgh, the Parliament ordered a public fast day as a 
 thanksgiving for his capture. 
 
 With feelings of great thankfulness they de- 
 liberated on the punishment that should be his, as 
 well as the manner in which it should be carried out. 
 They did not take long to deliberate. All agreed 
 that it should be death, with torture ! Thus the fate 
 of Montrose was sealed as soon as he was captured. 
 He was condemned, untried and unheard in his own 
 defence. 
 
 The Committee appointed by Parliament to 
 advise on so weighty a matter was composed solely 
 of the Marquis's enemies. Their advice was given 
 in writing, without one voice being lifted up to plead 
 for a fair and open trial. It was determined that 
 Montrose should die. 
 
 Holburne conveyed his prisoner first of all to 
 Lord Sutherland's castle of Skibo. After staying 
 there two nights, he was taken to Lord Seaforth's 
 castle of Braan in Ross-shire. 
 
 Colonel Strachan left Leslie and Holburne in the 
 Highlands, and dragged Montrose in triumph to 
 Edinburgh. No pity, no generosity, seemed to in- 
 fluence Strachan in his treatment of his noble 
 prisoner. 
 
 The Covenanters knew that a halo of glory was 
 still round the prisoner's very name. For years
 
 2 70 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 Montrose's exploits had rung in their ears and 
 jarred on their feeHngs. Now he was in their 
 power, they determined to humble him to the dust. 
 Clad in the mean, ragged, and dirty garb in which 
 he had been found, Montrose was compelled to 
 mount a poor little Highland pony, and in that 
 piteous guise Strachan led him through town to 
 town, prolonging the route, that his triumph might 
 be all the greater. 
 
 The Presbyterian clergy encouraged their flocks 
 to pelt him with mud and stones, while a herald 
 preceded the prisoner, crying, 'Here comes James 
 Graham, traitor to his country!' 
 
 His long hair, unshaven face, and mean clothing 
 were intended to humiliate him ; but Montrose's 
 lofty bearing, and the unshaken dignity with which 
 he bore his sufferings, silenced many who came to 
 revile the fallen hero. It was treason to express 
 any sympathy with Montrose ; and but for the 
 fear of punishment, the peasantry, as the cavalcade 
 passed by, would fain have pitied him. 
 
 He was led slowly on. At Pitcaple, a fine old 
 place belonging to the Leslies, the means of 
 escape were offered him. The lady of the house 
 was a distant relative of the Grahams. She saw 
 and pitied Montrose. Watching her opportunity, 
 she stole into his room at night, and showed
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 271 
 
 him a spring in the wall, that pushed back one 
 of the panels, leading to a subterranean passage 
 below. 
 
 The outlet was smaller than a narrow chimney, 
 and Montrose, while thanking his generous hostess, 
 refused to go through it ; telling her, with a smile 
 on his lips, that 'rather than be smothered in so 
 dark a hole, he had better meet what awaited him 
 in Edinburgh.' The lady sorrowfully withdrew, 
 grieving that she had not prevailed on her hapless 
 guest to attempt his escape. That room at Pitcaple 
 is still called * Montrose's chamber.' 
 
 As they drew near Kinnaird, each wood and 
 muir of Forfarshire must have reminded Montrose 
 of happier days. 
 
 It was at the castle of Kinnaird that Montrose's 
 brief married life had been passed. Magdalene Car- 
 negie, his fair young Countess, had died there, and 
 his children were at that very time living at the 
 castle, under the care of his father-in-law, the 
 venerable Earl of Southesk. 
 
 How little, in those calm days of bygone years, 
 when hunting, hawking, or golfing, a visit to some 
 neighbour, or the weekly attendance at kirk, had 
 alone broken the monotony of life, had Montrose 
 dreamed of this last visit to his father-in-law's home ! 
 Montrose loved but once in his life ; and when the
 
 272 
 
 The Fiery Cross ; or. 
 
 gentle Magdalene died, leaving him a young widower 
 with three children, he enshrined her memory in his 
 heart, an amulet against all meaner loves, and one 
 that prevented his ever forming a second marriage. 
 In his own words — 
 
 Let no man to more love pretend 
 
 Than he has hearts in store ; 
 True love begun shall never end : 
 
 Love one and love no more ! ' 
 
 When Montrose found himself so near Lord 
 Southesk's, he entreated Strachan to let him bid 
 his children farewell. Even his pitiless jailor could 
 not say nay to that request ; and the cavalcade 
 halted at the castle, that the touching farewell 
 might be taken. 
 
 Montrose knew what fate awaited him, and knew 
 as he strained each dear child to his breast that it 
 was a last embrace ; yet he preserved an unbroken 
 serenity of manner, determined that his calmness 
 should shame the malice of his persecutors. Thus 
 he bid them farewell, and asked a last blessing 
 from his father-in-law, whose own descendants 
 were doomed to suffer for their devotion to future 
 Stuarts ; for the Southesk fortunes were ruined in 
 the rising of 1715, and the present Earl is only a 
 younger branch of that loj^al Carnegie family. He 
 had indeed gone through his greatest trial. How,
 
 The Vow of Montrose, ■ 273 
 
 as mounted again, and turning his back for ever on 
 Kinnaird, must his thoughts have dwelt on his 
 wife's tomb in the little churchyard near the castle, 
 and the future of his hapless children ! All he felt, 
 however, he jealously guarded from his jailor's eyes, 
 and he was outwardly calm when the Covenanters 
 next halted at a place called Grange. 
 
 The owner of the castle was a * red-hot Puritan,' 
 but he had known Montrose in happier years ; and 
 as there is a record that the Lord of Grange had 
 given him a hawk, it is probable that they had once 
 enjoyed good sport together. His host, however, 
 only welcomed Montrose to Grange as a captive, 
 and felt but little pity for his forlorn and piteous 
 state, for he was in rags, and not suffered to wear 
 garments more fitting to his station, nor to shave off 
 the long beard which gave to his countenance a 
 wild and miserable appearance. 
 
 The wife of James Durham, his host, was named 
 Margaret, and was by birth a Scott of Brotherton. 
 She saw and pitied Montrose, and, like the lady of 
 Pitcaple, determined to try and save him. 
 
 Like a wily woman, she knew that her best chance 
 of doing so lay in pretending great warmth on the 
 opposite side. She stealthily noticed how Montrose 
 was guarded, and then made a great show of noisy 
 hospitality, bidding her butler * let the soldiers want
 
 2 74 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 for no drink,' and vowing that in the good Covenant's 
 cause it ' behoved her to bestir herself.' She did all 
 that lay in her power to circulate her husband's good 
 liquor. 
 
 With great outward show of kindness she plied 
 the guard with strong ale and whisky ; and the 
 Highlanders, not being used to such copious liba- 
 tions, soon became ' starke drunke.' 
 
 Overjoyed when she saw them all asleep in the 
 hall, she went into Montrose's room, and persuaded 
 him to put on one of her gowns, and disguise him- 
 self as a woman. She told him if he trusted to her 
 guidance he would yet be saved. Just as the lady 
 of Grange had guided the pretended female safely 
 through the sleeping guards to the other door, a 
 soldier came in. The man was less drunk than the 
 others. He seized the dame, and in the scuffle that 
 ensued he recognised the features of Montrose. 
 
 The man v/as instantly sobered. He gave a 
 prompt alarm, and the captive was reconducted to 
 his grated room, and more strictly guarded than 
 before ; while James Durham and all his household 
 were made prisoners, charged with having aided 
 the Cavalier to escape. 
 
 * Don't blame my husband,' cried the intrepid 
 dame of Grange. ' I planned it all, and he knew 
 nothing of my scheme. I only wish I had sue-
 
 Montrose attempts to Escape.— Pa^e 274. 
 2;5
 
 The Vow of Mo7itrose. 277 
 
 ceeded, and given the Marquis of Montrose his 
 freedom.' 
 
 The next day the Covenanters and their prisoner 
 stopped at Dundee, a town that had little reason 
 to regard Montrose with favour, yet which on this 
 occasion did all it could to mitigate his sufferings. 
 Its burghers, declaring it was a shame to let the 
 Marquis wear the miserable rags in which he ap- 
 peared, provided him with garments more fitting 
 to his rank, and presented him with a handsome 
 sum of money. 
 
 This generous conduct should have shamed 
 Strachan and his companions, who treated their 
 prisoner as if he were the vilest felon in Scotland, 
 instead of an unfortunate general who had lost all 
 through the accident of fortune and a devoted 
 loyalty to the royal cause. 
 
 The kindness of the citizens of Dundee was the 
 more unexpected by Montrose, as he knew that his 
 Redshanks had formerly plundered the city. The 
 kindness he there met with was a ray of light in his 
 melancholy progress towards Edinburgh.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 • I've told thee how the Southrons fell 
 Beneath the broad claymore, 
 And how we smote the Campbell clan 
 By Inverlochy's shore. 
 I've told thee how we swept Dundee, 
 And tamed the Lindsay's pride ; 
 But never have I told thee yet 
 How the great Marquis died ! ' 
 
 — Aytoun. 
 
 HILE Strachan, charged by the Parlia- 
 ment to convey Montrose to Edinburgh, 
 was, as we have seen, executing his task 
 with rigid severity, Leslie was scouring the country 
 in search of the fugitive remnant of the defeated 
 army. 
 
 Sir Harry Graham, brother to Montrose, was in 
 Orkney when Leslie invested the Castle of Dun- 
 beath. The garrison, hearing that Montrose had 
 
 without doubt been defeated and taken orisoner, 
 
 278
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 279 
 
 thought it useless to resist, and surrendered to 
 Leslie's soldiers. The garrison, principally Dutch- 
 men, were most of them allowed to return home 
 unmolested, while some of them were enlisted in 
 Sir Robert Murray's regiment of Scots in France. 
 Sir Harry Graham fled to France. 
 
 This regiment of Scots had existed in France 
 since the days of Louis the Ninth, and had always 
 been highly prized by the French sovereigns. 
 Charles the Second while in exile belonged to it, 
 as also did the gallant George Gordon Marquis of 
 Huntly in 1625, and James the Second while Duke 
 of York. The Marquis of Huntly, as Captain of 
 the ' Gendarmes Ecossais,' had fought in Louis the 
 Thirteenth's army, and greatly distinguished him- 
 self; so that, as it was considered an honour to 
 belong to the Scottish regiment, the soldiers of the 
 garrison therefore appear to have been treated with 
 unwonted leniency in being sent into that service. 
 
 After subduing Dunbeath, nothing remained but 
 to capture the venerable Castle of Kirkwall, which 
 Montrose had left under the command of Colonel 
 Johnstone. In it were all his papers, military stores, 
 weapons, and the suits of armour sent by the Queen 
 of Sweden, but which did not arrive soon enough to 
 be used in Montrose's sad and short campaign. 
 
 With the capture of Kirkwall, which had been
 
 28o The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 built five hundred years before by one of the Counts 
 of Orcades, and that of Jutland, both of which had 
 been left very insufficiently garrisoned by Montrose, 
 Leslie considered his task completed. 
 
 The little frigate of sixteen guns, sent by the 
 Swedes, fell also into their hands ; but the papers 
 were more prized than anything else, as among 
 them was a list of gentlemen favourable to Mon- 
 trose's enterprise. These were immediately arrested, 
 and taken prisoners by the Covenanters, on the 
 mere suspicion of belonging to the Cavalier party. 
 
 The information Argyle obtained through these 
 documents was made use of also against the Mar- 
 quis, who was condemned before he reached Leith, 
 untried by the laws of his country, and unheard in 
 his own defence. 
 
 Among the papers was one from James Lord 
 Sinclair, declaring that, the treaty of Breda being a 
 mere trap for the King, he saw no means of bringing 
 about his restoration except by the sword. 
 
 After ordering a solemn fast and thanksgiving 
 day, the Parliament appointed a Committee * to 
 advise the Estates' on the grave subject of Mon- 
 trose's punishment. 
 
 The Committee met on the 17th of May, 1650, and 
 their deliberations lasted a very short time. The 
 men who composed it were all enemies to Montrose,
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 281 
 
 — Argyle among the number, — and they quickly 
 sentenced him to an ignominious death. It was 
 thought advisable to beg them to write the sentence, 
 and accordingly they gave the Parliament a written 
 paper to the following effect, namely, that as soon 
 as 'the traitor, James Graham,' should arrive out- 
 side the city, their advice was, ' that the Magistrates 
 and common hangman should meet him and tie 
 him bareheaded upon a cart. Thus bound, the 
 hangman should draw him through the town, the 
 history of his battles appended round his neck, and 
 that he should be hanged in view of the whole popu- 
 lace, and then beheaded and quartered, — his head 
 to be placed on the Tolbooth, and his limbs to be 
 distributed to the various cities of Perth, Glasgow, 
 Aberdeen, and Stirling.' If he repented of the 
 crimes of loyalty and honour, — so ran the sentence, 
 — his body was to be buried in Greyfriars ; but if he 
 died without regretting his actions, it was to share 
 the fate of the remains of thieves and malefactors, 
 and be buried under the gibbet. 
 
 It was the eighteenth of May, 1650, that, after 
 crossing the Firth of Forth, the cavalcade con- 
 ducting Montrose to his doom reached Leith. 
 
 Suspense was over. The mind of the Marquis 
 was made up to bravely meet his fate. The kind- 
 ness shown him at Dundee enabled him to enter
 
 282 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 Edinburgh in garments not altogether unsuitable to 
 his rank ; and as he took his place on the rude cart 
 that met him at the Watergate, it was with a calm- 
 ness and grace that his ignominious treatment could 
 not destroy. 
 
 The fast had been held three days before ; and 
 after denouncing him from their pulpits, the Presby- 
 terian clergymen, in their long black cloaks, Geneva 
 bands, and pointed hats, mingled with the crowd 
 and encouraged them to execrate and abuse the 
 victim as he passed along. 
 
 The hangman ordered Montrose to take ofif his 
 hat— for part of his sentence was that he should 
 undergo his punishment uncovered. 
 
 Montrose hesitated, on which the hangman 
 snatched it rudely from his noble head, and then 
 placed him on the cart, binding him firmly across 
 his arms and shoulders, the cords being safely 
 attached to holes made in the rough wooden pieces 
 of the cart behind the chair on which sat the victim. 
 The hangman sat in front, a single horse drawing 
 the vehicle ; and, as if to show that the very 
 executioner was of higher rank than the illustrious 
 Montrose, he carried a long staff in his hand, was 
 bonneted, and wore a ghastly livery. 
 
 * They brought him to the Watergate, 
 Hard bound with hempen span.
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 283 
 
 As though they held a lion there, 
 
 And not a fenceless man. 
 They set him high upon a cart, — 
 
 The hangman rode below, — 
 They drew his hands behind his back. 
 
 And bared his noble brow. 
 Then as a hound is slipped from leash, 
 
 They cheered, the common throng.' ' 
 
 It was getting late in that summer's day when 
 Montrose, thus degraded, was led to the Watergate. 
 He was met there by the Provost and burghers of 
 Edinburgh, who read his sentence to him before he 
 mounted the cart. 
 
 Thousands of people awaited him in the High 
 Street and Canongate, and every house was crowded 
 from the top to the bottom with a prejudiced, angry 
 mob, eager to see The Graham, and how he bore 
 his sentence. 
 
 The cavalcade nears the Watergate. Every neck 
 is stretched out to gaze upon the proud and haughty 
 Montrose. 
 
 The Magistrates read out his sentence to him. 
 As the sound of the last sentence dies away, and 
 the cruel yell of the mob, eager to sate their hatred 
 with a sight of his sufferings, rises in the air, Mon- 
 trose, almost as calm and unmoved as if about to 
 tread some courtly hall, calmly says in reply : 
 
 * I willingly obey, but am sorry that through me 
 
 * Aytoun. 
 T
 
 284 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 His Majesty, whose person I represent, should be so 
 dishonoured ! ' 
 
 Although his words were brave, his face, as he 
 entered the court and submitted to his fate, was pale 
 and wan. Montrose bore his fate with outward 
 calmness; but one can guess the torture that so 
 proud a man must have endured, as he rides on, 
 unable to lift his hand to his brow, his head bare, 
 and the sun streaming down on his face and figure. 
 The Magistrates and burghers accompanied the 
 procession, which was preceded by a melancholy 
 cavalcade of his fellow-prisoners, bareheaded and 
 on foot as if they were common thieves instead of 
 chivalrous gentlemen, guilty only of loyalty and 
 fidelity to their sovereign. 
 
 The clergy had especially enjoined all the mem- 
 bers of their flocks to hiss and execrate ' that bloody 
 and excommunicate traitor, James Graham ; ' but 
 by degrees the yells died away, and the excited 
 populace gazed with involuntary compassion on 
 that grave, heart-broken face, looking sadly down 
 from the hangman's cart upon the now hushed and 
 awe-stricken multitude. Does Montrose recall his 
 past triumphs ? and do the loud shouts and curses 
 that first greet him remind him, by contrast, of the 
 cries of joy that after many a victory his faithful 
 Redshanks had been wont to greet their hero ?
 
 The Vozu of Montrose. 285 
 
 Alas ! tJiey are far away ; some slain in battle, some 
 skulking from Argyle's bloodhounds, as they track 
 each vale and hill for * recusant men ' ! Perchance, 
 too, his father's heart remembers in that hour of 
 anguish those children he will never see again ; but 
 who, when party prejudice has died away, and when 
 the royal cause once more prospers, will live to hear 
 their father named with honour as Montrose the 
 Cavalier. 
 
 The street along which the cavalcade passed was 
 very wide in parts, and every portion of it was filled 
 with the populace. There were many women in the 
 crowd, and some of them had been especially violent 
 against Montrose. But now their half-uttered taunts 
 died away before the sublimity of the martyr's 
 bearing, and their hearts, quickly stirred, were 
 moved to feelings of deep compassion ; and such 
 as dared murmured blessings and prayers instead 
 of curses. 
 
 A deep silence fell on the crowd as the procession 
 advanced, and the Presbyterian clergy marked with 
 consternation that their flocks were ' backsliding * 
 and sympathizing with that * malignant Montrose.' 
 
 The city guard was replaced as it neared the 
 Canongate by i body of sixty soldiers, with three 
 corporals, sergeants, and officers, belonging to 
 * Sawers' musqueteers.' These armed men sur-
 
 286 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 rounded the car, while their commander rode at 
 their head. 
 
 At this period the infantry of an army was chiefly 
 composed of pikemen and * musqueteers.' The pike- 
 man carried a formidable weapon eighteen feet long, 
 but the musqueteer bore his piece on his shoulder, 
 holding his ' musket rest ' in the same hand. 
 
 The officer who commanded the soldiers on the 
 occasion of Montrose's entrance into Edinburgh, 
 was a grim-featured, large-nosed, repulsive-looking 
 man, who pretended to be devotedly attached to the 
 Covenant, but who at heart was indifferent alike to 
 all religions. 
 
 His real name was Thomas Weir of Kirktoune, 
 Lanarkshire; but he was best known as 'the Wizard 
 of the North,' for the common people believed him 
 to be a sorcerer. He was burned at the stake in 
 1670 for sorcery and other crimes. As major of the 
 military in Edinburgh, he was selected to escort 
 Montrose along a portion of the route. Weir's grim 
 figure, enveloped in a black cloak, added to the 
 ghastly nature of the sight, and even the mothers 
 and widows of some who had fallen in the ranks of 
 Montrose's foes could not but shed tears at the 
 piteous spectacle of the great hero's degradation. 
 His silent dignity struck them forcibly. A low 
 murmur of sympathy broke forth, but it was
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 287 
 
 instantly quelled by the shouts of the brutal 
 soldiery. 
 
 One heart resolutely excluded the sentiment of 
 pity from its owner's breast. 
 
 Argyle's son, Lord Lome, had just married the 
 Lady Mary Stuart, Lord Moray's daughter. The 
 bride's father lived in the Canongate ; and, with 
 fiendish glee and unexampled bad taste, Argyle and 
 the newly-wedded pair, with a gay party of friends, 
 had taken their places on the broad balcony of this 
 mansion, overlooking the street. Argyle, who, as a 
 Cavalier historian asserts, had never dared to face 
 Montrose sword in his hand, now looked exultingly 
 down on his victim, bound hand and foot, pinioned 
 in the hangman's cart ! 
 
 Whether by design or accident, the cart stopped 
 for a moment beneath Lord Moray's balcony. 
 
 As the horse stopped, a woman's coarse, unfeeling 
 laughter broke upon the awe-stricken stillness of 
 the crowd. The people, gathered in such numbers 
 to see Montrose, had been prepared to hoot at and 
 hiss him, but they had respected the sight of that 
 * pale wan face.' It was one infamous woman only 
 — ^Jean Gordon, Countess of Haddington — who did 
 not hesitate to insult the noble prisoner. She 
 stepped forward and spat in his face ! Even Argyle 
 seemed to shrink back as he witnessed this atro-
 
 2SS 
 
 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 city, and a voice was heard among the crowd 
 crying — 
 
 * She ought to sit upon the cart for her own 
 wickedness ! ' 
 
 This unwomanly act was, strange to say, the act 
 of the sister of that brave and gallant Huntly, who 
 five years before had fallen at the battle of Alford, 
 fighting by the side of the Marquis. 
 
 Even then the Marquis remained unmoved and 
 calm. His dignified demeanour put to shame the 
 unfeeling conduct of Argyle's niece and her party, 
 who laughed and jested while their fallen enemy 
 passed the balcony. To quote again the beautiful 
 poem of one who has sung Montrose's praises in 
 language that will live as long as the hero's fame, 
 the procession went along — 
 
 * But onwards — always onwards. 
 
 In silence and in gloom, — 
 The dreary pageant laboured 
 
 Till it reached the house of doom. 
 Then first a woman's voice was heard, 
 
 In jeer and laughter loud, 
 And an angry cry and a hiss arose 
 
 From the heart of the tossing crowd. 
 Then as the Graeme looked upwards, 
 
 He saw the ugly smile 
 Of him who sold his king for gold, — 
 
 The master fiend Argyle ! ' 
 
 The distance from the Watergate to the Tolbooth 
 was only a mile, but so slowly did the cart proceed
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 289 
 
 that it actually took three hours to convey Montrose 
 to his prison, and it was close upon seven o'clock 
 when they reached the gloomy fortress. 
 
 Weary, indeed, must Montrose have been ; but 
 even then his courtly manner did not desert him. 
 
 He thanked the executioner for * driving the cart 
 so well,' and for his trouble gave him a handsome 
 vail of gold. 
 
 He was unbound, taken from his ignominious 
 seat, and led into the Tolbooth, where he was 
 handed over to the safe custody of Colonel Wallace 
 the governor. 
 
 After so agitating a day, it would have seemed 
 but common humanity to leave Montrose to repose 
 in his comfortless chamber ; but the Parliament 
 were in too great a hurry to compass his destruc- 
 tion, or to wait even a day longer before he was 
 examined. The day of his entry was Saturday, and 
 Sunday intervening, the Covenanters determined 
 not to wait till the Monday. 
 
 Parliament met, and immediately formed a com- 
 mittee, charged to see and examine Montrose. 
 
 He declined to see them, but they would take no 
 denial, and insisted on his presence. 
 
 Montrose replied to their questions, that before 
 he answered them he must be satisfied that they 
 were acting for his royal master the King. In vain
 
 290 The Fiery Cross ; or^ 
 
 the Commissioners pressed him to answer. He pre- 
 served a dignified silence. 
 
 Finding him thus resolute, the Committee went 
 back to the Parliament, who sent them back to Mon- 
 trose to say that * they and the King were agreed,' 
 but that they would leave him in peace till Monday. 
 
 In fact. Parliament had determined to get all the 
 information they could from Montrose about the 
 King's party ; and knowing the man, thought that 
 he w^ould be more inclined to disclose facts if he 
 knew that, since his defeat, Charles the Second had 
 concluded a treaty with them, and recognised them 
 as a properly constituted Parliament. 
 
 It was very late when the deputies brought this 
 information back to the Marquis, who, when told 
 that they would leave him alone till Monday, said 
 that he was glad of it, as he was very weary with 
 his long journey, and with the somewhat tedious 
 compliment they had that day paid him. 
 
 Next day being Sunday, the Presbyterian clergy 
 rebuked their flocks for * their profane tenderness in 
 not denouncing the Graham ' as he passed along 
 the streets ; and some even went so far as to regret 
 that the people had not reviled and stoned him. 
 As the Church Courts in those days enjoined every 
 parishioner to be present 'at each diet of worship,' 
 the Presbyterians had large congregations as they
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 29 [ 
 
 expatiated on the enormous wickedness of not 
 hissing 'the Graham.' 
 
 When kirk was over, and the Covenanters had 
 ended their long discourses, several of their leaders 
 went to the Tolbooth to taunt Montrose, and urged 
 him to confess. His prison doors were guarded by 
 Major Weir, who made Montrose's captivity none 
 the less irksome by smoking tobacco, the scent of 
 which the Marquis was known to detest. Weir also 
 constantly reviled him with such epithets as 'dog, 
 atheist, and murderer ! ' None of his friends were 
 allowed admittance to his cell ; while weary and sad, 
 he longed to repose, but patiently bore the visits 
 paid him by the Presbyterian clergy ; merely saying 
 . when they exhorted him to confession and re- 
 proached him for his crimes, that he was far from 
 being ' affronted ' at the treatment that he had re- 
 ceived, 
 
 'They were mistaken,* said Montrose, smiling. 
 * He thought it the most honourable journey he had 
 ever taken, — God having supported him all the 
 way, enabling him to bear the reproaches of men, 
 by recalling to his mind that he then suffered for 
 the King's sacred cause.' 
 
 There was no insult that his tormentors did not 
 heap on him in reply. They addressed him as 
 'James Graham :' and one bigoted clergyman called
 
 292 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 him * a faggot of hell,' and said ' he already saw 
 him burning !' 
 
 Malignity, however, did not alter our hero's firm 
 and dignified bearing. He bore all gently, till at 
 nightfall he was left alone to get what repose he 
 could before the break of day. 
 
 When summoned early next morning to appear 
 before Parliament, he attired himself in a splendid 
 suit of new clothes, that he had purposely ordered 
 to be made, and probably purchased with the money 
 given him by the burghers of Dundee. 
 
 First, he wore a scarlet rochet or coat, trimmed 
 with silver ribbons, richly lined with crimson, and 
 reaching to his knees. Under this gay coat he 
 wore black and richly laced under-clothes, carnation 
 coloured silk stockings, handsome garters, roses in 
 his shoes, and a large beaver hat in his hand. The 
 gay ribbons that formed the tie of the hatband, 
 garter, or shoe, were called ' roses ' in those times, 
 and were evidently worn large, as Ben Jonson says — 
 
 ' My heart was at my mouth 
 Till I had viewed his shoes well ; for those roses 
 Were big enough to hide a cloven foot. ' 
 
 His shirt was trimmed with the finest lace. 
 Thus attired, he walked with modest dignity into 
 the Parliament House, uncovering as he bowed his 
 head to the members in recognition of an autho-
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 293 
 
 rity sanctioned by his sovereign. He showed no 
 signs of fear ; but his face looked very pale and sad. 
 As he gazed around and saw an assemblage of so 
 many of his enemies, he sighed, and then resumed 
 his calm demeanour. 
 
 There were several noblemen present ; among 
 them the Lord High Chancellor, the President of 
 the Estates, Argyle, the Earls of Eglinton, Rox- 
 burghe, Buccleuch, Balcarres, Tweeddale, and nume- 
 rous others, both titled and untitled, belonging to 
 the highest families in Scotland. 
 
 The proceedings began by the Chancellor (the 
 Earl of Loudon), a man of notorious evil character, 
 rising and delivering a long speech, in which he 
 referred to Montrose's rebellions, and to his deser- 
 tion of the Covenant, and all his (so-called) crimes 
 against the State. The Chancellor used as much 
 invective and personal abuse as possible ; and Mon- 
 trose listened calmly to every word, though his 
 eyes roved from side to side, as if in search of 
 some kind face to cheer and pity him. When the 
 Chancellor's long speech was over, IMontrose rose to 
 reply. 
 
 ' If I appear before you uncovered, it is because 
 my sovereign has recognised you. I have always 
 tried to behave like a good Christian and a loyal 
 subject. I entered into the first Covenant and kept
 
 294 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 it faithfully, until I found that some, under the pre- 
 tence of religion, used it for a cloak of their own 
 ambitious designs. 
 
 * I never promised obedience to the second Cove- 
 nant, and am in no way bound to respect it. I had 
 the royal warrant for my wars ; and though several 
 acts of cruelty were committed by my soldiery, I 
 always punished such outrages with severity. 
 
 * I have never taken the blood of a prisoner, even 
 in retaliation for the slaughter of my soldiers and 
 friends ; and in battle I have saved the lives of 
 thousands. 
 
 *I landed in Orkney at the express command of 
 Charles the Second, whom you yourselves pro- 
 claimed as King, and with whom you are now in 
 treaty. I therefore desire to be treated by you as a 
 Christian man, to whom many among you are in- 
 debted for life and property, when, by the fortune 
 of war, both were at my mercy. Act by me, my 
 lords, according to the laws of nature and of nations, 
 but chiefly by those of our native Scotland ; judging 
 as one day you shall all be judged, when standing 
 at the throne of heaven !' 
 
 Montrose delivered this speech with calm and 
 manly fortitude ; and even those most prejudiced 
 against him could not help admiring his dignity. 
 He had been judged beforehand, however ; and his
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 295 
 
 speech and his hearers' sympathy availed him 
 nothing. 
 
 The Chancellor alone heard him immoved. When 
 Montrose had finished, he said that he had proved 
 ' his acts of hostility, and that he was an infamous, 
 perjured, treacherous person, worse than any this 
 land had ever before brought forth ; the most in- 
 human butcher and murderer of his nation, and a 
 sworn enemy to the Covenant and peace of his 
 country ; one whose boundless pride and ambition, 
 after ruining the father, had done all that he could 
 to destroy the son !' 
 
 When Montrose would have again stood up to 
 reply to these undeserved insults, Loudon bid him 
 * to hold his tongue,' and to kneel while his sentence 
 was pronounced. 
 
 He complied, merely saying that he knelt out of 
 respect to the King, who had acknowledged their 
 authority, but not from ' any meanness of spirit, or 
 disposition to fawn to them !' 
 
 In that position, he calmly listened while one of 
 his most inveterate enemies, Sir Archibald Johnston 
 of Warriston, clerk register, read his sentence. He" 
 was to be hanged on a gibbet at the Cross of Edin- 
 burgh. His ' declaration ' was to be hung round his 
 neck by a rope ; and after his body had been sus- 
 pended three hours, it was to be cut down by the
 
 296 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 hangman, decapitated, and then to have his hands 
 and legs cut off; his head to be affixed to an iron 
 pole, and stuck up over the western gable of the 
 Tolbooth, one hand * to be set up ' at Perth, one at 
 Stirling, a leg and foot at Aberdeen, and one at 
 Glasgow. 
 
 Montrose drew himself proudly up when he had 
 heard the whole of his sentence, and cried out ' that 
 he took it for a greater honour to have his head 
 stand on the prison gate for this quarrel, than were 
 his portrait hung up in the King's own chamber ; ' 
 and, added he, with a fire in his eye that all the 
 insults heaped on him had failed to quench, * I 
 only wish — for fear my loyalty should be forgotten 
 — I had enough limbs to be distributed in every city' 
 in Christendom, as records of my loyalty to my king 
 and love to my country !' 
 
 It was an old custom in Scotland, that the execu- 
 tioner should repeat a prisoner's doom, and it was 
 not part of the programme that a single iota of 
 degradation should be omitted from Montrose's 
 punishment. 
 
 When the grim executioner had done his duty, 
 Montrose was reconducted to the Tolbooth. He 
 spent his last uiight on earth in meditation and 
 prayer, heedless of the taunts and jibes of his brutal 
 jailor, Major Weir.
 
 The Vow of Alontrose. 297 
 
 He was not allowed to see a single friend ; yet, 
 throughout that night, he was frequently visited by 
 Presbyterian clergymen, whose vanity perhaps per- 
 suaded them that their eloquence might yet induce 
 the Marquis to repent ! 
 
 Montrose, while deprecating their intrusive visits 
 as hindrances to his prayers and meditations, yet 
 received them gently. At last, however, his patience 
 gave way. 
 
 • Why,' he cried, ' do you not leave the last hours 
 of an unfortunate man in peace? Will nothing 
 satisfy you but tormenting me ?' 
 
 'Nothing!' said the bigot who was preaching at 
 him — 'for I know no other method of humblinfj 
 your pride, and turning you to God.' 
 
 ' By a warrant from the Kirk we stayed with him 
 a while about his soul's condition,' wrote one of his 
 persecutors ; ' but we found him continuing in his 
 old pride, and taking very ill what was spoken to 
 him, saying, " I pray you, gentlemen, let me die in 
 peace." It was answered, that he might die in peace, 
 being reconciled to the Lord and to His Kirk.' 
 
 Finding they made little or no impression, the 
 Presbyterian ministers reported their ill success to 
 the Parliament, and requested leave to be present 
 at his execution, 'in case, at the last moment, that 
 he relented.'
 
 298 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 These fanatics averred that his soul was in peril, 
 should he die while still excommunicated by the 
 Kirk. 
 
 Pressed by the clergy and reviled by his jailor, 
 the constancy of Montrose never once forsook him. 
 The high-mindedness with which this great man 
 met his terrible doom, cannot be better expressed 
 than in his own words, written with the diamond 
 of his ring on the window-pane of his prison, during 
 that last sad night. Montrose had cultivated in 
 happier hours and times his gift of poetry, and 
 the religious feeling breathed in the following lines 
 did not spring only from his trouble in his last 
 hours : — 
 
 ' Let them bestow on every airt a limb, 
 Then open all my veins, that I may swim 
 To Thee, my Maker, in that crimson lake ; 
 Then place my parboiled head upon a stake ; 
 Scatter my ashes, throw them in the air ; 
 Lord, since Thou know'st where all these atoms are, 
 I'm hopeful Thou'lt recover once my dust, 
 And confident Thou'lt raise me with the just.' 
 
 Early next morning, when he had had some brief 
 rest, Montrose was astonished at hearing, outside the 
 Tolbooth walls, a great blowing of trumpets and 
 beating of drums. He inquired the reason. 
 
 Major Weir replied that Parliament had deemed 
 it safer to call the soldiers out to guard the ap-
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 299 
 
 preaches to the scaffold, for fear that his 'malignant' 
 friends might attempt to rescue him even at the 
 eleventh hour. 
 
 ' Indeed,' said Montrose, smiling. ' Is it possible 
 that I, who am bound for slaughter, am still so for- 
 midable to all these good folks! I shall be still more 
 terrible to them, then, when I am dead, I suppose.' 
 
 The Parliament need have feared no rescue. 
 Though the Cavalier party was overwhelmed with 
 grief at the defeat of Invercarron, they were power- 
 less to avert Montrose's execution. The Presby- 
 terian party was strong and vindictive ; and even 
 those who deplored the gross injustice of putting 
 Montrose to death without a fair trial, did not dare 
 to say so loudly. 
 
 Montrose's friend, Cardinal de Retz, heard 
 of what was about to take place from a Mon- 
 sieur de Groymond, an accredited minister to the 
 Parliament from Louis XIV., and wrote a strong 
 letter to the ' Parliament and Estates of Scotland, 
 begging that they would release Montrose, and not 
 suffer him to be insulted.' But when the missive 
 was written, the fatal deed had already been per- 
 petrated, for the letter was dated the loth of June 
 1650, and Montrose was executed on the 2ist of 
 May in that same year. 
 
 Montrose's friends, though not permitted to see 
 
 u
 
 300 
 
 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 and take leave of him, had supplied him with money 
 to enable him to appear richly clad on the day of 
 his execution. 
 
 He took the greatest pains with his appearance 
 while dressing himself for his execution, although 
 his preparations were conducted before a knot of 
 Covenanting Puritans, still persecuting him with 
 their homilies. Among these ' dour carles ' was the 
 man who had read his sentence the preceding 
 day. 
 
 It is said that this man, Sir Archibald Johnston, 
 had advised Argyle on the details of the sentence, 
 and had negatived milder counsels when his punish- 
 ment had been discussed in Parliament. No insult 
 was beneath their malice. Montrose wore his lone 
 locks in the Cavalier fashion; and seeing him engaged 
 in carefully preparing them, Sir Archibald tauntingly 
 inquired if ' such an occupation befitted so solemn 
 an hour ! ' 
 
 ' As long as my head is my own,' replied the 
 Marquis, ' I will dress it as I please ; to-morrow, 
 when it is yours, you may dress it as you please ! * 
 
 Nothing could surpass the splendid appearance of 
 the Marquis on that memorable day. He looked as 
 if ready to visit some festive hall ; as calm as if 
 about to tread a measure with some courtly beauty. 
 His mien was heroic, and his bright piercing eyeg
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 301 , 
 
 were lighted up with undaunted courage. His 
 whole appearance was so lofty and magnificent, that 
 as he stepped out to once more ascend the miserable 
 cart, an involuntary murmur of admiration broke 
 out among the crowd. 
 
 He had breakfasted off a piece of bread dipped 
 in ale ; and when his jailor told him the dread hour 
 was come, he drew on his hands a pair of delicate 
 white gloves, throwing over his rich scarlet coat a 
 most splendid cloak, embroidered with gold and 
 silver lace. His hat, as richly decked as his cloak, 
 he carried in his hand. 
 
 'So grand,' wrote his chaplain Wishart, Montrose's 
 faithful historian, ' was his air, so much bravery, 
 majesty, and gravity appeared in his countenance, 
 that the whole city was shocked at the cruelty 
 which was designed him, and even his enemies were 
 obliged to confess that he was a man of the most 
 lofty and elevated soul, and the most unshaken 
 constancy and courage that his age had pro- 
 duced.' 
 
 Even the indignity of ascending for the second 
 time the hangman's cart fell powerless on Montrose; 
 for as he ascended the scaffold, he said to a person 
 standing by, ' You see how I am honoured ! yet 
 after all I never in my life felt more delight in riding 
 in a coach than I have in that poor cart,'
 
 ."^02 
 
 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 All Edinburgh had come out to see the great 
 Marquis die. 
 
 *And young and old, and rich and poor, 
 Came forth to see him die ! ' 
 
 A great multitude had for hours been awaiting 
 him. Long before he had left the ^eart of Mid- 
 lothian the whole space around the gibbet was 
 crammed with men, women, and children, all come 
 to witness a great hero's last moments. 
 
 His demeanour would have shamed a Roman 
 hero — it was so calm, so lofty. His rich dress, 
 carefully adjusted, set off the beauty and grace of 
 his handsome person. Even a brave man might 
 have shrunk back in terror at sight of that ghastly 
 gibbet. The noose dangled down, for his enemies 
 were relentless, and he was to be hanged instead of 
 being beheaded, — decapitation in those days being 
 the nobleman's privilege. 
 
 The scaffold was nearly level with the spectators, 
 and the gibbet was erected in its centre. At the 
 lower end of the scaffold stood a knot of Presby- 
 terian clergy, still bent on tormenting their victim. 
 In another part were the Magistrates, bound by the 
 duties of their office to see the sentence carried into 
 effect. _ .- 
 
 Montrose spoke a few words to the latter, but
 
 The Vow of Mojitrose. 303 
 
 never even glanced in the direction of the clergy- 
 men, and then prepared to ascend the gibbet. 
 
 ' He would not deign them word or sign, 
 But alone he bent the knee, 
 And veiled his face for Christ's dear sake 
 Beneath the gallows tree ! ' 
 
 The bufif-coated soldiers formed a compact guard 
 round the scafiold, beyond which a great sea of 
 faces surged ; every eye riveted on the graceful 
 figure of the chief actor in the scene, the great and 
 good Montrose. A little apart stood another figure, 
 the executioner, with a long staff, the insignia of 
 his terrible office, in his hand. Every prospect or 
 chance of rescue was provided for ; while on a 
 bench near the ladder were a number of knives and 
 axes to dismember the body after death. 
 
 The Marquis calmly glanced at all these dread 
 preparations ; but though he had refused the mini- 
 strations of the Presbyterian clergy, he prayed 
 fervently, covering his face with his hands, as he 
 stood beneath the gibbet. 
 
 He had wished to address the populace, but that 
 privilege was strictly forbidden. A boy, said to 
 have been purposely placed there to record his last 
 words, took down in cipher the sentences he ad- 
 dressed to those about him. His dying address 
 has been thus handed down to posterity.
 
 304 The Pieiy Cross ; or^ 
 
 * I would be very sorry,' he said, * if any one good 
 Christian should be scandalized by my death. Doth 
 not sometimes a just man perish in his righteous- 
 ness, and a wicked man prosper in his malice ! 
 
 ' They that know me should not yndemn me for 
 it, for many greater than me have been dealt with 
 as hardly. Yet, however I may consider my fate 
 hard as inflicted by man, I acknowledge it to be 
 just as coming directly from God. I therefore 
 blame no one for it, nor complain of any one's 
 judgment. I take it from the hand of God, whose 
 instruments they are, and forgive them for it ; may 
 God also forgive them. ^ ' y 
 
 * To exonerate myself from me scandal with 
 which many good people load me, I maintain that 
 all I did originated out of loyalty to the King. 
 
 'I have not sinned against man, but against God; 
 and with Him there is mercy, and this is my ground 
 of hope in drawing near to Him. 
 
 * I pray God that there be no further judgments on 
 this land. As for that which the Lord's people urge 
 against me, namely, that I am excommunicated by 
 the Church, I can only say, it is not my fault, as 
 the sentence was incurred from my zeal in the 
 King's service. Yet I am sorry that they excom- 
 municated me ; and if I could be relaxed' without 
 infringing the laws of God, or my allegiance to the 
 
 f
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 305 
 
 King, I would be very happy. If not, I must 
 appeal to God, who will be a less partial judge. It 
 is said that I have blamed the King. God forbid ! 
 For the late King lived a saint and died a martyr ! 
 May my end be like his ; for if ever I could wish my 
 soul in another man's stead, it should be in his. As 
 for his present IVfajesty, his commands to me were 
 very just, and he will carry out all that he engages 
 to do. Do not mistake my behaviour for obstinacy, 
 I can only carry out the dictates of my own con- 
 science, according to the workings of God's Spirit. 
 I desire not to be presumptuous, but it is God who 
 supports me under the terrors of death. 
 
 * I have no more to say, but to crave your charity 
 and prayers, I pray for all. I leave my soul to 
 God, my service to my prince, my goodwill to 
 my friends. I have said all this to discharge my 
 conscience, and the rest I leave to the mercy of 
 God.' 
 
 The Presbyterian ministers begged him again to 
 reconsider his determination-, and to make his peace 
 with the Kirk, by avowing his past errors, 
 
 ' I have already,' replied Montrose, ' poured out 
 my soul before the Lord, who knows my heart, and 
 into whose hands I nowJcommerid my spirit. He 
 has given me peace through Jesus Christ my Re- 
 deemer; and therefore if you will not join me in 
 
 ^ '
 
 3o6 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 prayer, my repeating all that I have said before will 
 be scandalous.' 
 
 The Presbyterian ministers told him that as long 
 as he remained excommunicated by the Kirk, they 
 could not pray with him. 
 
 He then, after again praying, began to prepare 
 for death. 
 
 He fee'd the executioner handsomely with gold, 
 after inquiring how long he was to hang there. 
 
 ' Three hours ! ' replied the Calcraft of the day, 
 bursting into tears. Montrose earnestly begged to 
 be permitted to wear his hat and cloak, but even 
 that favour was not allowed, and he went bare- 
 headed to his doom. A copy of his memoirs by his 
 chaplain, and another of his declarations as Captain- 
 General of Scotland, was hung round his neck, as 
 decreed by the Estates ; but he bore it cheerfully, 
 saying — 
 
 * Though it had pleased the King to make me a 
 Knight of the most Honourable Order of the Garter, 
 yet do I not think myself more honoured by that 
 than by the contents of this book, the true testi- 
 mony of m.y loyalty ! ' 
 
 His calmness almost gave way when the Magis- 
 trates ordered his arms to be pinioned. He seemed 
 justly indignant, but said nothing till it was done, 
 when, turning to his executioner, he inquired ' if
 
 The Voiu of Montrose, 307 
 
 he had any more dishonour — as they conceived it 
 — to put on him ; if so, he was ready to receive 
 it!" 
 
 With the same undaunted courage and dignity as 
 he had hitherto borne all his misfortunes, he mounted 
 the ladder that led to the gibbet. The clock of a 
 neighbouring church struck the hour of three as the 
 ladder was drawn from beneath his feet, and the last 
 sounds that Montrose heard, before his soul was 
 launched into eternity, were the sobs of the hang- 
 man and the roar that burst from the indignant 
 crowd below. 
 
 The great Cavalier was dead. 
 
 His body hung for three hours, and then the 
 executioner cut it down, and it fell on its face. It 
 was dismembered in the presence of Argyle's son, 
 lyord Lome, who, after ascending the scafiold to 
 ga^e in triumph on his father's dead enemy, re- 
 mained to see it hewn in pieces. 
 
 Argyle, however, had better taste, and was not 
 present at his rival's execution. It is said that he 
 shed tears at the recital of his noble death. Perhaps 
 they were tears of remorse. 
 
 Thus died Montrose, in the thirty-eighth year of 
 his age. His name and memory will ever be 
 honoured as one of history's grandest characters. 
 His faults were those of his ago, but his virtues
 
 3o8 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 were far in advance of his time ; and his dignity, 
 forbearance, and fortitude, would have made his 
 name illustrious even without the long list of 
 splendid victories by which he had made himself 
 famous. 
 
 The fate of his remains is remarkable. His head 
 was stuck on a gable of the old Tolbooth of Edin- 
 burgh, next to that of his uncle, Lord Gowrie, which 
 had been there fifty years. 
 
 For fear that his friends should remove it, the 
 Parliament ordered it to be secured with a strong 
 iron bar. 
 
 His body was buried on the Boroughmuir Road, 
 at a place devoted to the execution of malefactors ; 
 but one devoted friend, by dint of paying a large 
 sum of money, got possession of his heart. 
 
 It was Lady Napier who dared and did the deed 
 of getting Montrose's heart into her own possession. 
 This lady was the wife of Montrose's dearest friend. 
 She had a casket, made out of the blade of her 
 hero's sword, in which to enclose his heart, and her 
 descendant still possesses a portrait of her, where 
 she is represented with the sacred object at her 
 side. 
 
 The gallows on which he sufifered was left standing 
 a long time in the place where it was erected, with 
 a view of striking terror into the minds of any Cava-
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 
 
 309 
 
 Hers ; but the other prisoners taken with the great 
 Marquis after Invercarron were all beheaded by the 
 Maiden, or Scottish guillotine, — hanging having been 
 reserved for their leader, to mark the ignominious 
 nature of his punishment.
 
 £^:^ 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ' And Scotland, thou may'st veil thy head 
 In sorrow and in pain ! ' 
 
 — Aytoun. 
 
 IHE death of Montrose struck terror and 
 consternation into the minds of the 
 English and Scottish Cavaliers. 
 Such a terrible reprisal on the part of the Cove- 
 nanters against a fallen foe, seemed to renew all the 
 horror that moderate men had previously felt at the 
 first Charles's death. When Charles the Second 
 was told of Montrose's execution, he is said to have 
 felt both grief and indignation ; but he was not able 
 to indulge in resentment against those who had put 
 his faithful follower to death, for he was in treaty 
 with the very party. When, therefore, a few days 
 after the Marquis's execution, he set sail for Scot- 
 land, he was forced to disguise his real sentiments, 
 
 and meet the perpetrators of what may justly be 
 
 » 310
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 311 
 
 called a murder, with assumed cordiality. It was a 
 bad omen for the young King, that, as he passed 
 through Aberdeen, scarcely two months after the 
 death of the great Captain, almost the first object 
 that attracted his attention was the left hand of 
 Montrose, blackening on the Tolbooth gate, — the 
 leg and foot originally destined for Aberdeen having 
 been sent to some other town. 
 
 Charles was horror-struck, not only at the ghastly 
 object, but at the bad taste that permitted it to re- 
 main exactly opposite the royal lodgings. He had, 
 nevertheless, to smother his indignation, and to con- 
 tent himself with resolving to collect the relics of 
 MontVose's body as soon as he was his own master. 
 
 Alas ! not even Montrose's execution, nor their 
 negotiations with the young King, sated the appetite 
 of the Covenanters for revenge. The tragedy was 
 not yet played out. Fully forty Cavaliers died on 
 the scaffold between the execution of Montrose and 
 the restoration of Charles the Second. 
 
 Sir John Hurry perished soon after his great 
 commander. He had surrendered under a promise 
 of quarter, and fully believed that the Estates would 
 have pardoned him. He was condemned, however, 
 to die at the same place as Montrose, though not 
 by the gallows. 
 
 Sir John Hurry was accused, in addition to the
 
 312 
 
 The Fiery Cross ; or. 
 
 crime of joining the Marquis, of carrying arms under 
 Prince Rupert at Marston Moor. Young Spottis- 
 woode suffered with him. With few exceptions, all 
 met death as calmly, bravely, and well as their 
 great leader Montrose. 
 
 Sir Francis Hay of Dalgetty, a Roman Catholic, 
 when led up to the Maiden, made some jesting 
 allusion to its name, and smiling, knelt down, kissed 
 the instrument, and met death without a shudder. 
 The Cavaliers, by the serenity with which they met 
 their doom, seemed determined to triumph over 
 their enemies. Young Spottiswoode, a most accom- 
 plished gentleman, used the following short prayer 
 before he died : — 
 
 * Lord, who hath been graciously pleased to bring 
 me through the wilderness of this world, I trust you 
 will now waft me over this sea of blood to Thy 
 heavenly Canaan ! ' 
 
 A Presbyterian clergyman standing by called 
 out : 
 
 ' Tak tent, tak tent, sir, that ye droun not by the 
 gate ! ' (way). 
 
 Spottiswoode smiled as he said in reply, — 
 
 ' I hope, sir, I am not an Egyptian ! ' on which his 
 tormentor retired dumfoundered into the crowd, 
 without another word. 
 
 The last Cavalier executed was a Captain Char-
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 3 1 3 
 
 tens, the scion of an old Scottish family. He 
 had been dreadfully wounded, and in the weakness 
 following on his sufferings his friends persuaded 
 him to listen to the Presbyterian ministers. He did 
 as they wished ; and when he was led on to the 
 scaffold, he made a long speech that had been 
 drawn up for him, and avowed his regret for having 
 renounced obedience to the Covenant. 
 
 The poor man evidently expected that his life 
 would be spared ; but the Presbyterians, for fear — 
 as an old writer says — ' he should fall off from his 
 principles again, cut off his head, and sealed his 
 confession with his blood ! ' 
 
 Dr. Wishart, the faithful chronicler and friend of 
 Montrose, became chaplain to the Electress Palatine 
 Elizabeth of Bohemia, with whom, in 1660, he re- 
 turned to England. He was made Bishop of Edin- 
 burgh, and his tomb is still to be seen in Holyrood 
 Chapel. Many of the Cavalier prisoners were 
 banished, after having given their word not again 
 to fight against the Covenant. But a time of retri- 
 bution was to come ; and after the Restoration, the 
 chief number of those who had condemned Montrose 
 and his friends to death, themselves perished on the 
 scaffold. 
 
 Charles the Second, after signing a treaty with 
 the Scottish Commissioners, had no alternative but
 
 3H 
 
 The Fie7y Cross ; or, 
 
 to set sail for Scotland, which he did a few days 
 after his faithful adherent's execution. 
 
 It seems totally inconsistent with the latter event, 
 that the Estates should at that time have entered 
 into a treaty with a prince whom they knew to be 
 at heart a Roman Catholic ; and in order to ex- 
 plain, the fact, and to give a consecutive account of 
 what followed, it is necessary to remember the then 
 state of Scotland. 
 
 The Scotch are natural!}' loyal, and the news of 
 the late King's execution had been received by 
 them with the greatest horror and regret ; and it 
 was in obedience to the national voice that Argyle 
 had been forced to negotiate with Charles the 
 Second. 
 
 The news of Charles's death at Whitehall reached 
 Edinburgh on February sixth, six days after the 
 bloody deed had been perpetrated. 
 
 It was brought into the town by one of Strachan's 
 officers, named Gowan, — a determined Independent 
 and Republican, who had himself witnessed the 
 King's death. 
 
 The crowd gathered round the trooper, and lis- 
 tened with rapt attention as he triumphantly recited 
 that all was over, the tyrant dead, and Republicanism 
 established ; but even as he spoke, a revulsion of 
 feeling ran through the populace, and they cast
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 
 
 3^5 
 
 down their faces, and clenched their hands in grief 
 and despair. The people openly declared their 
 anger at the deed. They felt, as they dispersed 
 mournfully to their homes, that their nation had 
 grievously sinned in giving Charles up to his enemies. 
 God, they declared, was insulted by the regicides, 
 who had beheaded the son of their native princes, 
 the representative of kings who had reigned two 
 thousand years in Scotland ; therefore, seeing that 
 the populace were determined to return to their 
 allegiance, even Argyle dared not oppose the pro- 
 clamation, at the Edinburgh Cross, of the young 
 King's accession to the throne, under the title of 
 King of Great Britain and Ireland. 
 
 But after proclaiming him king, the Estates deter- 
 mined to bind him down to recognise the Covenant. 
 
 Before Charles the First's execution, Argyle had 
 deemed it more prudent to discountenance Crom- 
 well's views. For that purpose, he had sent three 
 Commissioners to England to protest against the 
 King's execution. The only reply vouchsafed them 
 was, that the Scotch had better join England in a 
 Federal Republic ; and that as to the Covenant, it 
 was an antiquated document. 
 
 The Commissioners, having communicated the 
 state of matters to the Estates, were enjoined to 
 treat with the young Prince ; but Cromwell, hear- 
 
 X
 
 •7 16 The Fiery Cross ; or. 
 
 v) 
 
 ing that they intended going to Holland, seized 
 them and sent them home to Scotland. 
 
 From the moment that the;r dearly loved Cove- 
 nant seemed in peril, the ruling powers in Scotland 
 turned their minds towards Charles the Second, and 
 sought to bring him back again. They realized 
 that, much as Charles the First had menaced the 
 Presbyterian religion by his attempts to introduce 
 Episcopacy into Scotland, their religion was more 
 than threatened by the Independents, whose doc- 
 trines were thoroughly adverse to their own. The 
 Scots had indeed suffered for their adherence to 
 their faith, for not only had they revolutionized 
 their land in defence of their Covenant, but the 
 whole country seemed under a blight, for the tyranny 
 of their clergy was excessive, and the gloom that 
 pervaded the kingdom was calculated to stifle every 
 innocent pleasure and amusement. 
 
 The influence of the Presbyterian clergy amounted 
 to despotism ; and although the Presbyterians longed 
 for religious liberty, and had ' sold their King ' to 
 get it, they were so bigoted in the belief that no 
 other creed but their own could be right, that the 
 bitterest persecutors of Romanism had never ex- 
 ceeded their wrath against those who held other 
 creeds. 
 
 After the Reformation, the whole discipline in
 
 The Vow of Montrose, 317 
 
 Scotland as regarded Church matters had changed. 
 The old Romish Consistory Courts were abolished, 
 and in their place sprung up Synods and Assem- 
 blies. These Synods and the General Assembly 
 were as intolerant as had been their predecessors 
 the Papists. 
 
 They passed laws, not only condemning all per- 
 sons found guilty of celebrating mass to heavy 
 fines, but even to death, if any one so offended 
 three times. 
 
 These persecutions continued for a long period, 
 and were not merely directed against the clergy. 
 
 In 161 2, the Synod of Fife, summoned the first 
 Marquis of Huntly and the Earl of Errol for the 
 crime of refusing to conform to Presbyterianism. 
 Both noblemen were sentenced to be excommuni- 
 cated ; but one of them, Lord Errol, ended by 
 abjuring the errors of Popery, and his outlawry was 
 thereupon withdrawn. 
 
 Several other noblemen were prosecuted ; and as 
 the Synods had full powers to molest and prosecute 
 any holding views different to their own, the issue 
 frequently ended in a forced subscription to the 
 Covenant ; but, as in the case of the Duke of 
 Hamilton, such adherents were not always faithful 
 to their vows. 
 
 Any who possessed Popish books were censured ;
 
 3 1 8 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 and finding that it was alnnost impossible to quench 
 the zeal of those who still clung to their former 
 creeds, the Synods enacted that no book treating 
 of religion should be published until it had received 
 the approval of the General Assembly. 
 
 Good, however, came out of all this intolerance. 
 The Presbyterians, in suppressing Popish books of 
 religion, forced every Roman Catholic to acquire 
 a Bible ; and under fear of incurring a penalty of 
 ten pounds if found to possess no copy of the 
 Scriptures, the sacred writings were thus spread 
 far and wide among the burgesses and peasantry. 
 
 It is to the zeal with which this was carried out 
 that we may ascribe the intimate knowledge of the 
 Scriptures possessed by Scotch peasantry — a know- 
 ledge which has ever since been one of their 
 greatest characteristics. 
 
 The Synods abolished all festivals ; even the 
 observance of ' Yule ' or Christmas being consi- 
 dered superstitious. 
 
 The Reformers found great difficulty in checking 
 the abuses of Sunday. Before the downfall of the 
 Papal power in England, the Sabbath had been 
 considered only as sacred from Saturday evening at 
 six o'clock to the following day at the same time. 
 This led to the evening of Sunday being very ill 
 spent. The people used to frequent theatres after
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 319 
 
 six o'clock ; and even markets were sometimes held 
 in cathedral closes, and within the precincts of 
 monasteries. 
 
 The fines, however, inflicted on persons prac- 
 tising trading or secular occupations, put a stop 
 to such practices, and did no doubt a great deal 
 of good ; while, on the other hand, the tyranny 
 of the clergy was excessive, and the noble spirit 
 which had dictated the first Covenant had com- 
 pletely vanished. Instead of preaching the peace- 
 able doctrines of religion, the clergy employed 
 their pulpits to advocate persecution and intoler- 
 ance, and to hold up distorted passages from 
 Scripture to justify the shedding of human blood. 
 
 This religious mania reduced Scotland deplor- 
 ably, by checking commerce and all kinds of 
 innocent amusements, and leaving the whole 
 government of the realm in the hands of the clergy. 
 Argyle was the leader of the clerical party, at the 
 same time that he was also its tool. He did all 
 that he could to ingratiate himself with the clergy, 
 by doing away with patronage, and raising their 
 stipends. 
 
 He proscribed all those Cavaliers who had been 
 engaged in raising levies to oppose the Covenant ; and 
 any individual who had carried arms for the King 
 was declared 'infamous, and unfit to serve the State.'
 
 ;20 
 
 The Ftery Cross ; or^ 
 
 A perfect trade was carried on by unworthy- 
 persons, who informed against 'the Engagers,' 
 Argyle's creatures having spies in all the places 
 where strangers were likely to lodge on first arriv- 
 ing in Edinburgh ; and unless large fines were 
 extorted from them, they were imprisoned on a 
 charge of having robbed the State. The burgesses 
 and gentry were thus thoroughly oppressed, and a 
 complete reign of terror was inaugurated. 
 
 Argyle had rid himself of his rival Huntly before 
 negotiating with Charles the Second ; and the latter 
 step he had been compelled to take in obedience to 
 popular feeling, which was still loyal and true. As 
 we have seen, the young King signed a treaty with 
 the Estates ; but the melancholy faces, long, sad- 
 coloured clothes, and clerical bands of the Cove- 
 nanters were thoroughly uncongenial to Charles the 
 Second, and not the less distasteful were the strin- 
 gent conditions to which they compelled him to 
 agree before they acknowledged his rank. 
 
 The first condition was, that he was to renounce 
 England and to govern Scotland as his ancestors 
 had done before him, acting towards the sister king- 
 dom with distrust and caution. He was also to 
 promise to for ever abandon and to banish from his 
 Court that 'excommunicated man the Marquis of 
 Montrose ;' but Charles — whom history has accused
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 321 
 
 of negotiating with both Montrose and the Estates 
 at the same time, and while authorizing the latter 
 to levy troops for him at home and abroad, had 
 also signed the treaty of Breda with the Covenanters 
 — had not fallen low enough to consent to either 
 condition. He refused to agree to either of them. 
 The King was also to sign the Covenants ; to estab- 
 lish Presbyterianism in England, when able to do 
 so ; and to submit himself in all things ecclesiastical 
 to the General Assembly; to be, in fact, a mere 
 puppet instead of a King. 
 
 When offered these terms, Montrose was still alive, 
 ready to offer him, tvithout conditions, his sword and 
 even his life to restore the King's power in England 
 as well as in Scotland. 
 
 Montrose distrusted the Estates, and entreated the 
 King to repudiate offers of assistance, when coupled 
 with such hard and ungenerous conditions. Charles 
 was only too willing to accept Montrose's offer, 
 and determined to await the result of the second 
 expedition before setting sail for Scotland. V/e 
 have seen the sad ending of Montrose's descent on 
 the Highlands, and now — to end this volume pro- 
 perly — we must sketch the King's subsequent con- 
 duct, after the failure of his Captain-General to 
 restore the King's power by the sword, when, on 
 the third of June 1650, he arrived in Scotland.
 
 ^22 The Fiery Cross ; or. 
 
 o 
 
 The King was accompanied by several noblemen 
 who had been proscribed by the Estates, among 
 wliom were the Dukes of Hamilton and Buckingham, 
 the Earls of Cleveland, Bramford, Lauderdale, and 
 Carnwath, with various other Scottish Cavaliers, 
 
 After a perilous journey of twenty days, he 
 reached the Spey, and landed at a little village 
 called Garmouth, at the mouth of that river. He 
 was compelled to sign the Covenant before landing ; 
 and not even the universal joy that their monarch's 
 return afforded the populace, could efface from 
 Charles's mind the apprehensions that he was vir- 
 tually a tool in the hands of the Covenanters, and 
 that his restoration was still a thing of the future, 
 and by no means an established fact. 
 
 The sight of Montrose's hand withering on the 
 Aberdeen Tolbooth was not obliterated from his 
 memory by the liberality with which that town 
 presented him with fifteen hundred pounds, although 
 the Estates, jealous at such liberality, sent an in- 
 junction prohibiting the other burghs from following 
 so good an example. Though the Estates ordered 
 the Castle guns to be fired, bonfires to be lighted, 
 and bells to be rung in Edinburgh, and over the 
 kingdom, in honour of Charles's safe arrival, they 
 kept him at the Palace of Falkland, instead of bring- 
 ing him to Edinburgh, and sent back again to the
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 323 
 
 Continent all the English Cavaliers who had come 
 home with their sovereign. 
 
 The clergy continually lectured Charles from their 
 pulpits ; one of them going so far as to say that if 
 the King did not keep the Covenant, ' it would be 
 all over with him.' 
 
 The Engagers did all they could to propitiate the 
 Covenanters, and in that way remain near the person 
 of the King ; but with one exception — that of the 
 Duke of Buckingham • — the Cavaliers were all 
 banished from the royal presence, and only those 
 attached to Argyle's faction were allowed to remain 
 near him. 
 
 An anecdote will illustrate the King's position as 
 regarded his followers. 
 
 The Earl of Carnwath, one of the Engagers who 
 had accompanied Charles to England, happened one 
 day to enter the King's privy chamber at Falkland, 
 at the same moment that Argyle was coming into 
 the room. Argyle with great haughtiness ques- 
 tioned the Earl's right to be there. 
 
 Carnwath went at once to the King, and told him 
 how Argyle had treated him, and denounced him as 
 proscribed by the Estates. 
 
 He took leave of Charles, hoping he would never 
 have any one near him less devoted to his service. 
 
 ' It is youi oing,' he cried in parting to Argyle ;
 
 3 
 
 2 A. The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 'but I care not!' Scarcely had Carnwath quitted 
 the Court, before the officials received orders to seize 
 and hang him, but he had eluded the minions of the 
 Puritan party, and escaped from their clutches. 
 
 The poor young King, used to the gaieties of a 
 foreign Court, deprived of his chosen friends and 
 companions, and surrounded only by Covenanters, 
 was miserable indeed. Argyle's son, Lord Lome, 
 commanded his body-guard, and all his retinue were 
 obliged to prove that they had signed the Covenant. 
 The King could indulge in no amusement without 
 offending the Presbyterian clergy, and was compelled 
 to listen to interminable sermons, and on one occa- 
 sion heard six such discourses delivered without the 
 least rest between. 
 
 The state of tyranny in which he was kept more 
 resembled the condition of a State prisoner than that 
 of an hereditary King among his own people, and 
 this went on till Cromwell determined — after issuing 
 a proclamation in which he attempted to defend his 
 tone of action — to invade Scotland. 
 
 Cromwell endeavoured to justify his conduct, 
 which was in direct violation of a treaty entered into 
 with the Scots, by which he had promised not to 
 make war on them without three months' notice, by 
 declaring that he did so because he saw the northern 
 kingdom bent on restoring the royal power. He
 
 The Vow of Monh'osc. 325 
 
 therefore mustered a large body of sixteen thousand 
 men to invade Scotland. 
 
 The Scots — the common people especially — were 
 dismayed when they heard of Cromwell's prepara- 
 tions. They dreaded to encounter the same severity 
 that the Irish had endured, and from political motives 
 the clergy kept up all the horror the peasantry felt 
 at the cruelties practised on the people of Ireland. 
 
 The young King was felt to be an important 
 element in the defence of the kingdom, as the 
 Estates hoped through his influence to attract the 
 scattered Cavalier party, who maintained a sullen 
 reserve while active preparations were made through- 
 out the kingdom to enlist an army of thirty thou- 
 sand men. 
 
 To prepare for the enemy, it was necessary to 
 entail a great deal of suffering on the inhabitants 
 of the country lying between Berwick and the 
 capital. For miles the land was laid waste ; crops 
 had been destroyed by fire, and the peasantry 
 chased from their homes, in order to prevent the 
 possibility of their supplying food to Cromwell's 
 soldiers. 
 
 This so far answered, that when the English 
 soldiery entered Scotland, not a man was to be 
 seen. The Roundheads were sorely dismayed 
 to see the utter desolation of the country.
 
 326 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 o 
 
 The English entered Scotland in July 1650, just 
 fourteen days after Charles's arrival in that country. 
 The Covenanters, commanded by Lord Leslie, and 
 cautiously drawn up behind the fortifications be- 
 tween Berwick and the capital, awaited the enemy's 
 
 commg. 
 
 The country people having fled, Cromwell issued 
 a proclamation promising full jirotection to those 
 who returned to their homes. The peasantry were, 
 however, slow to avail themselves of his offer ; and 
 as they had torn up all their crops, levelled their 
 houses, and taken their goods and chattels with 
 them, the Roundheads very soon began to experi- 
 ence both cold and hunger. 
 
 Bread and water rations did not make Cromwell's 
 troops more contented, and they therefore began 
 to murmur loudly. 
 
 Had the Covenanters acted differently, the issue 
 might have been changed ; for when, on the twenty- 
 ninth of July, the young King was brought down 
 to the army, the inveterate intolerance of Argyle's 
 party led to their insisting on expelling from their 
 ranks all those who would not sign the Covenant. 
 Many Cavaliers had joined the army from love of 
 their country and a wish to unite even with their 
 enemies in its defence, but they would not agree 
 to the ' purgation,' as it was called, and the conse-
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 2)2^ 
 
 quence was, that many thousands of men withdrew 
 long before Charles had joined the army at Leith. 
 The Covenanters, secure in their own spiritual 
 pride, declared their conviction that victory would 
 be theirs ; but, unhappily, in their very first skirmish 
 with Cromwell, they were beaten back, and a flank 
 fire from Leith alone checked his further advance 
 into their territory. 
 
 Several serious skirmishes took place between 
 Cromwell's army and the Scotch troops ; and the 
 Independents, who mainly composed the Round- 
 heads' army, infuriated by the virulence of their 
 adversaries, who denied them any quarter, fought 
 with increased energy, and when successful took a 
 number of prisoners. 
 
 Several Cavaliers were among the number, one 
 of whom is said to have died with the proverbial 
 oath of the Royalists, ' I'll go to my king.' 
 
 Cromwell does not appear to have behaved 
 cruelly to the prisoners, and the peasantry began 
 to discover that his severity was not more terrible 
 than the tyranny of their own Government. 
 
 At one town to which Cromwell retired, to await 
 the arrival of some vessels laden with provisions 
 from England, he provided the starving inhabit- 
 ants with corn, to the value of two hundred and 
 forty pounds.
 
 328 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 The Scottish Estates pubh'shed proclamations, 
 in which they represented Cromwell's retreat — a 
 step he had taken while waiting for provisions — as 
 the sole result of their own prowess. They even 
 carried the deception so far as to return public 
 thanksgiving for their victories. 
 
 But Cromwell, after recruiting his army, ad- 
 vanced by Colinton towards Edinburgh, pitching 
 his tent three miles west of the capital. He was, 
 however, compelled to again retreat, this time 
 to Musselburgh. In order that his flank and 
 rear might retire in safety, he selected Sunday as 
 the day for the march ; for not even in defence 
 of their country would the Scotch fight on the 
 Sabbath ! The young King was all this time at 
 Holyrood, where he held a semblance of a Court. 
 Under pressure of the strongest kind, the minions 
 of the Estates compelled him to subscribe himself 
 a devoted Presbyterian, and in writing to abjure the 
 acts of his father and mother, and all the maxims 
 and traditions of his family. It was some time 
 before Charles could bring himself to act in a way 
 so repugnant to his feelings and principles ; but 
 he was in reality a prisoner in the hands of the 
 Scots, and at length affixed his name to the paper, 
 which was called, from its having been signed at 
 that burgh, * The Dunfermline Declaration.'
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 329 
 
 The Scots, who had been extremely depressed 
 by their losses, were gratified at having wrung 
 this concession from Charles, as the English general 
 had accused them of advocating the cause of the 
 malignants, and they hoped by this declaration to 
 strengthen their hands by refuting Cromwell's 
 assertions. 
 
 At length a foe far more dreadful than the Scots 
 declared himself against the Roundheads. The 
 English, while encamped near Colinton, had keenly 
 felt the coldness of the climate, especially at night, 
 and at length an illness, called * the country dis- 
 ease' — probably low fever — broke out among his 
 troops, and Cromwell was then driven to propose 
 terms to the Scots, on condition of being allowed 
 to retreat unmolested. 
 
 The Covenanters inferred from this that the 
 English general's position was worse than it really 
 was, and they resumed hostilities without entering 
 into negotiations. 
 
 Cromwell was too great a man to be daunted 
 by the difficulties of his situation. He withdrew 
 his force to Dunbar, and entrenched himself there 
 till he received reinforcements from England. His 
 retreat was attended with all kinds of disasters, and 
 the Scots followed him along the Lammcrmuir 
 hills on one side of Dunbar.
 
 330 The Fiery Cross; or. 
 
 The Scots appeared to have thoroughly sur- 
 rounded Cromwell. Then, with their usual arro- 
 gant confidence, they felt sure that, hemmed up 
 between their army and the sea, they had him 
 completely in their power. Dunbar is situated at 
 the extremity of a long tract of flat country, having 
 the Firth of Forth on one side and the hills on the 
 other. The Scots reached Doon hill, where they 
 overlooked the English, and called a council of 
 war to decide on what should be their line of 
 action. 
 
 The clergy, who were numerously represented 
 in the Covenanting army, were anxious to lose no 
 time in annihilating the enemy ; others, more 
 prudent, suggested a middle course, and proposed 
 negotiations, and that Cromwell, by an uncon- 
 ditional surrender of arms and ammunition, should 
 be allowed to quietly retire to England. In spite 
 of the confidence with which they talked, they 
 knew his great vigour and ability, and had a 
 well-founded fear that, if pressed too hard, he 
 might make a successful stand even at that 
 eleventh hour. However, more impetuous coun- 
 sels prevailed, and on the second of September 
 the Scottish army lay ready to attack the Round- 
 heads. 
 
 Cromwell reviewed his position. His influence
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 331 
 
 lay witli the army, and the reh'glous zealots of 
 whom it was composed ; and he knew if he failed 
 in the expedition, he would either as a prisoner 
 in the Scots' power be called to a severe reckoning 
 for the regicidal part he had played, or from the 
 failure of the expedition lose his ascendancy in 
 England. He was ensnared, and yet did not 
 despair. He sent off all his sick to the ships on 
 the coast, and after recommending his soldiers 
 to pray for help, told them to ' take heart, for 
 God had heard them, and would appear for them.' 
 
 He was lodged in Lord Roxburghe's house at 
 Broxmouth the day before the battle ; and as he 
 noted the Scottish army in the distance, he cried 
 out with triumph, ' The Lord hath given them into 
 our hands ; they are coming down to us.' 
 
 Nor had this wonderful military genius mis- 
 calculated the effects of religious enthusiasm on his 
 troops. The Scots meanwhile were leaving their 
 position on the hills of Lammermuir, and kept 
 steadily descending through the slow long hours of 
 that chill September night. Dawn beheld their 
 long line of battle drawn up in front of Cromwell's 
 army, thicker in one part than the other, because 
 they anticipated that, as soon as he should be 
 attacked, Cromwell would attempt to escape into 
 England.
 
 332 
 
 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 This night march was the greatest error Leslie 
 could have committed. 
 
 Though double the number of the English, the 
 Scottish soldiers were totally unprepared to compete 
 with Cromwell's veteran troops, for they were wearied 
 out with their arduous march ; their powder was 
 damp from the night dews, and their spirits flagged 
 from want of that refreshing rest which the Round- 
 heads had enjoyed. 
 
 The battle began before the morning mist had 
 rolled away, and after a long struggle victory de- 
 clared itself on the side of Cromwell, who, as he saw 
 the sun rising behind him, and marked that while 
 his soldiers had it at their backs, it dazzled the eyes 
 of their adversaries, he exclaimed, ' Now, let God 
 arise, and His enemies shall be scattered ! ' 
 
 The sound of his voice as he uttered these words 
 appealed forcibly to men who believed that the war 
 they were waging was 'the Lord's cause ;' and with 
 an impetuosity the wearied Scots were too tired out 
 to resist, they fell on their enemies in every direc- 
 tion, and hewed them to pieces. The Scots fled ; 
 their cavalry trampling the foot regiments as they 
 turned from the enemy ; while in vain their clergy, 
 the cause of all their misfortunes, implored them to 
 stop. Their voices fell unheeded on ears only eager 
 to flee from the sounds of their pursuers, and for
 
 The Vow of Montrose. '^'^'^ 
 
 fourteen miles the English pursued the flying foe. 
 The Sectarian troops recollected that the Scots had 
 refused them any quarter, and therefore the clergy 
 were the especial objects of their bloody vengeance. 
 Those who had gone out twenty-seven thousand 
 strong in the morning, shouting their favourite 
 watchword, 'the Covenant !' fled from those equally 
 presumptuous men who called themselves the 'army 
 of the Lord of hosts ! ' 
 
 It is enough to record the number of prisoners 
 taken by Cromwell, to show the importance of his 
 victory. While the victorious chief lost only thirty 
 men, he captured ten thousand of the Covenanters, 
 and took their colours, ordnance, tents, and baggage. 
 Cromwell returned thanks after the battle ; and, 
 providing for the relief of the wounded, wrote to the 
 House of Commons recording his victory. In a 
 letter to his wife written the next day, he says : 
 * The Lord has showed us an exceeding mercy ! 
 who can tell how great it is "i My weak faith has 
 been upheld ; I have been miraculously sup- 
 ported ! ' 
 
 The wreck of the Covenanters' army fell back on 
 Stirling, while Cromwell gained peaceable possession 
 of Leith and Edinburgh, and most of that part of 
 Scotland south and east of Falkirk. 
 
 Edinburgh Castle held out against him, and many
 
 o:)' 
 
 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 of the Presbyterian clergy fled for shelter into that 
 stronghold, which Cromwell besieged. 
 
 The blow the Scots received to their pride by 
 Cromwell's victories was not unmixed with other 
 feelings as far as concerned the ruined, despised, 
 and small remnant of the Cavaliers. 
 
 Charles felt that his time would come, and rightly 
 judged that a revulsion of feeling in favour of his 
 royal house would be the result of this exposure of 
 Presbyterian pretensions. The tyranny of the clergy, 
 and the arrogance with which they had vaunted of 
 the favour of the Almighty, had proved unequal to 
 repress the English invaders, and Charles trusted 
 that ere long the people would see that their real 
 friends were their ancient kings. Cromwell's aim 
 was to reduce Scotland, as he had so recently suc- 
 ceeded in subjugating Ireland. 
 
 England had long submitted to the rule of the 
 Commonwealth ; and though Cromwell was only 
 popular with the army, he had crushed every party 
 antagonistic to his own. He was determined to 
 im.pose his own Calvinism on the Scots as well as 
 on the English. 
 
 The army the Protector commanded was com- 
 posed of religious zealots, but the rigid laws of their 
 leader were so strictly kept that he could rely on his 
 troops serving him with the greatest precision. Tilt
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 335 
 
 austere morality of his troops was wonderful. The 
 Cavahers, accustomed to use profane language, were 
 astonished to find that neither drunkenness nor 
 gambhng were ever seen or heard of in Cromwell's 
 camp ; but, on the other hand, the intolerance with 
 which the Independents regarded all sects but their 
 own, had led them to outrage without mercy many 
 beautiful English churches and cathedrals, declaring 
 that they ' savoured of Popery.' The Republicans, 
 indeed, detested a religion which they regarded as 
 having enslaved their country. 
 
 The line of policy Cromwell and his party had 
 apparently laid down was to conciliate, with a view 
 to convincing, the Presbyterian clergy. Finding 
 that many of the clergy were shut up in Edinburgh 
 Castle, he sent up a messenger to beg them to re- 
 turn to their duties, promising, if they complied, to 
 protect them. A long correspondence ensued, the 
 Presbyterians sneering at Cromwell, and declaring 
 that they alone were the ' favoured of the Lord ! ' 
 
 To this Cromwell replied, that were their asser- 
 tions correct, ' the Lord would surely have stood by 
 them during the late battles.' 
 
 A long controversy followed ; and even the Cove- 
 nanters found it difficult to answer this. However, 
 they were not to be beaten. They put the whole 
 blame on the presence of Charles, whom they con-
 
 336 The Fiery Cross; or, 
 
 sidered as responsible for all the misfortunes of their 
 Government. ■' 
 
 They held a solemn fast, at which they declared 
 that the young King's ' lust for an earthly crown ' 
 had been the only cause of the reverses sustained by 
 their arms. One preacher went so far as to say, 
 'that were the King's heart as upright as that of 
 King David, God would no more pardon the sins of 
 his father's house for his sake, than He had done 
 those of the house of Judah for the goodness of 
 Josiah ! ' 
 
 The Covenanters were too prejudiced to see that 
 if they had joined with the Royalists when Cromwell 
 first threatened to march into Scotland, the whole 
 country would most probably have laid aside its 
 differences to repel the English ; and, in fact, they 
 so thoroughly detested the Cavaliers, that when a 
 fusion was proposed, several of the leaders declared 
 that they would rather join Cromwell than fight by 
 the side of malignants. 
 
 Charles's position, in the meantime, Avas so irk- 
 some to him, that in October of the same year in 
 which Cromwell had arrived in Scotland, he actually 
 hoped to organize a rising of his own friends ; and to 
 free himself from his jailors, he managed to escape 
 their vigilance so far as to get away from Perth, and 
 to bid his friends meet him in the Braes of Angus ;
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 337 
 
 but before the meeting could be organized, the 
 Covenanters had overtaken him, and he was per- 
 suaded to give up his intention. 
 
 The Covenanters, however, then became aware 
 that it would be wise to recognise Charles as a 
 leader ; and after Cromwell had reduced Edinburgh 
 Castle, they, on the first of January 165 1, crowned 
 him King of Scotland. This revolution was effected 
 by a more moderate section of the Covenanters. 
 
 Those who carried this measure, and thus recog- 
 nised the King, were called * Resolutioners ;' those 
 who opposed it, ' Protesters.' 
 
 There were two distinct parties from that time in 
 Scotland, one consisting of those extreme men who, 
 rather than admit the Royalists into the State, 
 withdrew entirely from the Government, and the 
 Resolutioners. 
 
 Strachan, Montrose's old enemy, headed the for- 
 mer party, and under his leadership it endeavoured, 
 by raising a separate army, to recall the Scots to 
 their allegiance to their former guides ; for it was 
 the stricter leaders of the Covenant who became the 
 Protesters. But Cromwell defeated Strachan's army 
 at Hamilton, and after that battle the Protesters 
 abandoned all pretensions to being considered a 
 separate military party. 
 
 The King after that became the actual leader of
 
 338 The Fie7y Cross ; or, 
 
 the Resolutioners ; but at the same time he and his 
 followers still preserved an outward show of rever- 
 ence, although the ' malignants ' — as the Covenanters 
 called the Cavaliers — formed a large section of the 
 army. 
 
 Cromwell's army took no active measures till the 
 summer following the young King's coronation at 
 Scone, to entice the Scots from their entrenchments 
 at Stirling ; and then, seeing that as long as Charles 
 drew his supplies from Fife, there would be no 
 means of tempting him to risk defeat in open battle, 
 Crom.well threw four thousand men into the country 
 in Charles's rear, and thus intercepted his means of 
 communicating with the rest of Scotland. 
 
 Charles's troops were defeated at Inverkeithing. 
 Two thousand of his men were killed, and six hun- 
 dred taken prisoners. The King, thus defeated in 
 Scotland, formed a sudden resolution, and unknown 
 to Cromwell, led the remnant of his army into 
 England, trying to rouse that country before the 
 Captain - General of the Scottish army, having 
 heard of his sudden step, should be able to follow. 
 But Cromwell, leaving General Monk in command 
 of a small force in Scotland, quickly followed the 
 King across the border, and overtook them at Wor- 
 cester. 
 
 Charles would probably have carried everything
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 339 
 
 before him, but that the Scots deserted in large num- 
 bers as they marched along ; and the Parliament, 
 by vigorous measures, also prevented an immense 
 number of Cavaliers from joining the royal troops. 
 The King's army, by the time he reached Worcester, 
 was diminished to eleven thousand men, Cromwell's 
 being only five thousand strong, and fatigued by 
 their hurried march. It was the third of September ; 
 and though the Royalists made a determined re- 
 sistance, they were dispirited by recollecting that on 
 that day year the battle of Dunbar had been lost and 
 won. Again victory declared itself on the side of 
 the Roundheads under Oliver Cromwell. 
 
 Charles, dragged off the field of battle at Wor- 
 cester, escaped alive, and eventually got abroad. 
 Thus the last active resistance made to the iron rule 
 of Cromwell ended, and he at length annihilated 
 the Scottish army, and dealt a death-blow to the 
 Covenanters of Scotland. 
 
 The Marquis of Argyle, who had not joined 
 Charles the Second, still held out in his own country ; 
 but he was at last surprised, and Scotland was then 
 reduced to submit unconditionally to England and 
 its Republican laws. | 
 
 Monk found no difficulty in keeping down the 
 Scots during Cromwell's absence, and thencefor- 
 ward, till the Restoration of the Stuarts, Scotland
 
 340 
 
 The Fiery Cross ; or. 
 
 was a mere province of England, subject to its laws, 
 and, in fact, a conquered land. 
 
 Both Cavaliers and Presbyterians keenly felt the 
 fallen condition of their country ; yet, though no 
 doubt the loss of their national independence, for 
 which they had fought so long and so valiantly, was 
 a heavy misfortune, the substitution of a good for a 
 bad Government turned out well in the end for the 
 Scottish people. 
 
 The Presbyterian rule under the Covenant had been 
 tyrannical and ruinous ; and when the Covenanters 
 were divided into two parties, religious differences 
 still ran so high, that the first session held by Crom- 
 well's judges had, it is said, to adjudge four hundred 
 cases, which arose solely out of private quarrels. 
 
 The Church Courts had enforced confession of 
 sins, real and imaginary, under threats of excom- 
 munication ; and on these grounds, suits which were 
 a complete scandal to the country were brought out 
 of private spite. 
 
 It was an easy thing to accuse another of the 
 crime of witchcraft ; and when the Resolutioners and 
 Protesters could bring forward against each other 
 nothing else, it was enough, under Covenanting 
 rulers, to say that their enemy practised sorcery. 
 
 The crusade against witchcraft in Europe arose 
 from two of the greatest blessings to humanity,^
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 341 
 
 printing, and the translation of the Scriptures into 
 the vulgar tongue. To the superstitious, who be- 
 lieved in the actual power of sorcerers, there was 
 nothing more comforting than to believe that to put 
 a witch to death was not only justifiable, but pleas- 
 ing to God. Protestants and Catholics were alike 
 zealous in this cruel crusade against witches, and 
 Luther rather encouraged than repressed the per- 
 secution, exclaiming, ' I would burn them all ; ' and 
 no race of Protestants were more energetic than 
 the Scottish Reformers in denouncing the so-called 
 crime of witchcraft. 
 
 The ignorant peasantry were actually encouraged 
 by Kirk-sessions to give up the names of those who 
 were suspected of the offence ; no priest daring to 
 absolve a witch, nor any other person supposed to be 
 self-dedicated to Satan. The fate of any one found 
 guilty of the offence was piteous in the extreme. 
 Their accusers were pitiless. No mercy was shown 
 to a witch. 
 
 There was no offence, possible or impossible, of 
 which a witch was not suspected. If the mill 
 stopped, it was said to be bewitched. The storms 
 at sea, the loss of fishing-boats, illness of children 
 and animals, were all imputed to the 'evil eye.' 
 Candlemas and Hallow-Tsve were said to be the 
 annual gatherings for those practising the black art.
 
 H2 
 
 The Fiery Cross ; or, 
 
 Witches — so the ignorant peasant believed — tra- 
 versed oceans on barges of eggshells; or, mounted 
 on goblin horses, would rendezvous at some hill- 
 side, — 
 
 'When the grey owlet has three times hoo'd, 
 When the grimy cat has three times mewed ! * 
 
 Witches also practised divination, and pretended 
 to read the secrets of the future ; but at last the 
 Church grew alarmed, and declared that sorcerers 
 arid magicians were worthy of death ; and the Pro- 
 testant Reformers organized and led the crusade 
 against witchcraft. 
 
 Knox denounced witches from the pulpit, and the 
 Kirk-sessions were constantly occupied in judging 
 persons accused of witchcraft. 
 
 Under Cromwell's rule, this and a great many 
 similar abuses of justice passed away. Finding that 
 disputes between the rival religious parties pre- 
 vented the free administration of the law, the great 
 Dictator determined to put a stop to clerical inter- 
 ference in Scotland. 
 
 In 1653, the Scottish Assembly was dissolved by 
 military force under Colonel Coterell, who suddenly 
 entered the place where the ecclesiastical body held 
 its sittings. 
 
 Surrounding the house with troops, the officer 
 entered with some soldiers, and demanded by
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 343 
 
 whose authority they were sitting there to de- 
 liberate. 
 
 ' By no earthly authority,' replied the Moderator, 
 * but by the will of Christ, and to promote His in- 
 terest on earth.' 
 
 Coterell, acting under Cromwell's order, mounted 
 a bench, and declared the Assembly dissolved, 
 because it had no authority from the English Par- 
 liament. 
 
 The Covenanters could scarcely believe the evi- 
 dence of their senses ; but the English officer told 
 them to be gone, or he would order the soldiers to 
 disperse them. 
 
 When at length they got up and prepared to 
 disperse. Colonel Coterell led them out of the 
 town, and warned them to at once leave Edinburgh, 
 and no longer agitate their distracted country. 
 The Assembly was forbidden to meet again, under 
 any pretence whatsoever, in larger numbers than 
 three at a time ; and thus ended the representation 
 of a factious religious body, which for sixteen years 
 had agitated, oppressed, and burdened Scotland 
 with wars, both at home and abroad. 
 
 Scotland enjoyed a peaceful time under Crom- 
 well's rule ; and released from an overbearing 
 priesthood, that state of things went on till Charles 
 the Second's restoration in 1660.
 
 544 
 
 The Fiery Cross ; or. 
 
 This concluding chapter has been thought neces- 
 sary as a sequel to the romantic life and adventures 
 of Montrose. 
 
 When at length the Stuarts were recalled to 
 England, and the iron rule of Cromwell was over, 
 the young King disappointed many of the Cavalier 
 families, who had shared in his exile and sufferings, 
 and been true to him in the hours of danger and 
 penury ; but he does not appear to have been un- 
 grateful to the memory of Montrose. In January 
 1661, he ordered the remains of the great Marquis 
 to be disinterred, and accorded to all that was mortal 
 of the hero a stately funeral. 
 
 Strange to say, the very day upon which the 
 funeral of Montrose was solemnized, Argyle, then 
 a prisoner in Edinburgh Castle, was aroused — 
 as Montrose had been on the morning of his ' 
 execution — by the sounds of fifes, drums, and 
 trumpets. 
 
 His inquiry was answered by the attendants tell- 
 ing him that it was the procession starting for the 
 Boroughmuir to bring his rival's body. Strange 
 contrast to that bygone May day 1650 ! 
 
 These honours were but scant justice to the 
 memory of one who had served the King's house ' 
 so devotedly ; and as long as history records the 
 lives of great and good men, Montrose will evcr-be
 
 The Vow of Montrose. 345 
 
 remembered as noble and true, as well as great. In 
 St. Giles's Church his body rests till — 
 
 ' The day when he shall show them, 
 
 At the throne of God on high, 
 
 The murderer and the murdered, 
 
 Met before their Judge's eye !' 
 
 It has been difficult, in holding up to admiration 
 the character of Montrose, to avoid too great a 
 bias against the party who put him to a cruel death, 
 and denied him a fair trial ; but it must not be for- 
 gotten that the struggle for religious independence 
 in Scotland, and for the maintenance of the Cove- 
 nant, was originally a good one, and would have 
 never degenerated into secular factions and tyranny, 
 but for the gross intolerance of those who, detesting 
 the errors of Popery and the follies of a profligate 
 age, degraded the cause they sought to uphold by ■ 
 injustice, disloyalty, and deliberate cruelty. That 
 the reprisals of the Royalist party were severe and 
 persecuting, none can deny; for there is a dark 
 history to be told in the annals of a later reign of 
 hunted Covenanters, wno bore their sufferings with 
 the noble endurance of martyrs. When civil war 
 ^ccame rebellion, the royal prerogative was often 
 abused ; and as we read of cruelties practised on 
 Scottish peasants, because they adhered to the
 
 346 
 
 The Fieiy Cross, 
 
 Covenant, we feel that we ought to rejoice that 
 those terrible times are past and gone, and that 
 we live in happier days than those of the gallant 
 Cavalier Montrose. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
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 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
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