Old Mortality, Complete, Illustrated - Sir Walter Scott
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Morton, who beheld the columns of the enemy already beginning to appear
on the right bank, and directing their march upon the bridge, raised his
voice to its utmost pitch, and, pointing at the same time with his hand,
exclaimed,--"Silence your senseless clamours, yonder is the enemy! On
maintaining the bridge against him depend our lives, as well as our hope
to reclaim our laws and liberties.--There shall at least one Scottishman
die in their defence.--Let any one who loves his country follow me!"
The multitude had turned their heads in the direction to which he
pointed. The sight of the glittering files of the English Foot-Guards,
supported by several squadrons of horse, of the cannon which the
artillerymen were busily engaged in planting against the bridge, of the
plaided clans who seemed to search for a ford, and of the long succession
of troops which were destined to support the attack, silenced at once
their clamorous uproar, and struck them with as much consternation as if
it were an unexpected apparition, and not the very thing which they ought
to have been looking out for. They gazed on each other, and on their
leaders, with looks resembling those that indicate the weakness of a
patient when exhausted by a fit of frenzy. Yet when Morton, springing
from the rostrum, directed his steps towards the bridge, he was followed
by about an hundred of the young men who were particularly attached to
his command.
Burley turned to Macbriar--"Ephraim," he said, "it is Providence points
us the way, through the worldly wisdom of this latitudinarian youth.--He
that loves the light, let him follow Burley!"
"Tarry," replied Macbriar; "it is not by Henry Morton, or such as he,
that our goings-out and our comings-in are to be meted; therefore tarry
with us. I fear treachery to the host from this nullifidian Achan--Thou
shalt not go with him. Thou art our chariots and our horsemen."
"Hinder me not," replied Burley; "he hath well said that all is lost, if
the enemy win the bridge--therefore let me not. Shall the children of
this generation be called wiser or braver than the children of the
sanctuary?--Array yourselves under your leaders--let us not lack supplies
of men and ammunition; and accursed be he who turneth back from the work
on this great day!"
Having thus spoken, he hastily marched towards the bridge, and was
followed by about two hundred of the most gallant and zealous of his
party. There was a deep and disheartened pause when Morton and Burley
departed. The commanders availed themselves of it to display their lines
in some sort of order, and exhorted those who were most exposed to throw
themselves upon their faces to avoid the cannonade which they might
presently expect. The insurgents ceased to resist or to remonstrate; but
the awe which had silenced their discords had dismayed their courage.
They suffered themselves to be formed into ranks with the docility of a
flock of sheep, but without possessing, for the time, more resolution or
energy; for they experienced a sinking of the heart, imposed by the
sudden and imminent approach of the danger which they had neglected to
provide against while it was yet distant. They were, however, drawn out
with some regularity; and as they still possessed the appearance of an
army, their leaders had only to hope that some favourable circumstance
would restore their spirits and courage.
Kettledrummle, Poundtext, Macbriar, and other preachers, busied
themselves in their ranks, and prevailed on them to raise a psalm. But
the superstitious among them observed, as an ill omen, that their song of
praise and triumph sunk into "a quaver of consternation," and resembled
rather a penitentiary stave sung on the scaffold of a condemned criminal,
than the bold strain which had resounded along the wild heath of
Loudon-hill, in anticipation of that day's victory. The melancholy melody
soon received a rough accompaniment; the royal soldiers shouted, the
Highlanders yelled, the cannon began to fire on one side, and the
musketry on both, and the bridge of Bothwell, with the banks adjacent,
were involved in wreaths of smoke.
CHAPTER XI.
As e'er ye saw the rain doun fa',
Or yet the arrow from the bow,
Sae our Scots lads fell even down,
And they lay slain on every knowe.
Old Ballad.
Ere Morton or Burley had reached the post to be defended, the enemy had
commenced an attack upon it with great spirit. The two regiments of
Foot-Guards, formed into a close column, rushed forward to the river; one
corps, deploying along the right bank, commenced a galling fire on the
defenders of the pass, while the other pressed on to occupy the bridge.
The insurgents sustained the attack with great constancy and courage; and
while part of their number returned the fire across the river, the rest
maintained a discharge of musketry upon the further end of the bridge
itself, and every avenue by which the soldiers endeavoured to approach
it. The latter suffered severely, but still gained ground, and the head
of their column was already upon the bridge, when the arrival of Morton
changed the scene; and his marksmen, commencing upon the pass a fire as
well aimed as it was sustained and regular, compelled the assailants to
retire with much loss. They were a second time brought up to the charge,
and a second time repulsed with still greater loss, as Burley had now
brought his party into action. The fire was continued with the utmost
vehemence on both sides, and the issue of the action seemed very dubious.
Monmouth, mounted on a superb white charger, might be discovered on the
top of the right bank of the river, urging, entreating, and animating the
exertions of his soldiers. By his orders, the cannon, which had hitherto
been employed in annoying the distant main body of the presbyterians,
were now turned upon the defenders of the bridge. But these tremendous
engines, being wrought much more slowly than in modern times, did not
produce the effect of annoying or terrifying the enemy to the extent
proposed. The insurgents, sheltered by copsewood along the bank of the
river, or stationed in the houses already mentioned, fought under cover,
while the royalists, owing to the precautions of Morton, were entirely
exposed. The defence was so protracted and obstinate, that the royal
generals began to fear it might be ultimately successful. While Monmouth
threw himself from his horse, and, rallying the Foot-Guards, brought them
on to another close and desperate attack, he was warmly seconded
by Dalzell, who, putting himself at the head of a body of
Lennox-Highlanders, rushed forward with their tremendous war-cry of
Loch-sloy.
[Note: This was the slogan or war-cry of the MacFarlanes, taken from
a lake near the head of Loch Lomond, in the centre of their ancient
possessions on the western banks of that beautiful inland sea.]
The ammunition of the defenders of the bridge began to fail at this
important crisis; messages, commanding and imploring succours and
supplies, were in vain dispatched, one after the other, to the main body
of the presbyterian army, which remained inactively drawn up on the open
fields in the rear. Fear, consternation, and misrule, had gone abroad
among them, and while the post on which their safety depended required
to be instantly and powerfully reinforced, there remained none either to
command or to obey.
As the fire of the defenders of the bridge began to slacken, that of the
assailants increased, and in its turn became more fatal. Animated by the
example and exhortations of their generals, they obtained a footing upon
the bridge itself, and began to remove the obstacles by which it was
blockaded. The portal-gate was broke open, the beams, trunks of trees,
and other materials of the barricade, pulled down and thrown into the
river. This was not accomplished without opposition. Morton and Burley
fought in the very front of their followers, and encouraged them with
their pikes, halberds, and partisans, to encounter the bayonets of the
Guards, and the broadswords of the Highlanders. But those behind the
leaders began to shrink from the unequal combat, and fly singly, or in
parties of two or three, towards the main body, until the remainder were,
by the mere weight of the hostile column as much as by their weapons,
fairly forced from the bridge. The passage being now open, the enemy
began to pour over. But the bridge was long and narrow, which rendered
the manoeuvre slow as well as dangerous; and those who first passed had
still to force the houses, from the windows of which the Covenanters
continued to fire. Burley and Morton were near each other at this
critical moment.
"There is yet time," said the former, "to bring down horse to attack
them, ere they can get into order; and, with the aid of God, we may thus
regain the bridge--hasten thou to bring them down, while I make the
defence good with this old and wearied body."
Morton saw the importance of the advice, and, throwing himself on the
horse which cuddie held in readiness for him behind the thicket, galloped
towards a body of cavalry which chanced to be composed entirely of
Cameronians. Ere he could speak his errand, or utter his orders, he was
saluted by the execrations of the whole body.
"He flies!" they exclaimed--"the cowardly traitor flies like a hart from
the hunters, and hath left valiant Burley in the midst of the slaughter!"
"I do not fly," said Morton. "I come to lead you to the attack. Advance
boldly, and we shall yet do well."
"Follow him not!--Follow him not!"--such were the tumultuous exclamations
which resounded from the ranks;--"he hath sold you to the sword of the
enemy!"
And while Morton argued, entreated, and commanded in vain, the moment was
lost in which the advance might have been useful; and the outlet from the
bridge, with all its defences, being in complete possession of the enemy,
Burley and his remaining followers were driven back upon the main body,
to whom the spectacle of their hurried and harassed retreat was far from
restoring the confidence which they so much wanted.
In the meanwhile, the forces of the King crossed the bridge at their
leisure, and, securing the pass, formed in line of battle; while
Claverhouse, who, like a hawk perched on a rock, and eyeing the time to
pounce on its prey, had watched the event of the action from the opposite
bank, now passed the bridge at the head of his cavalry, at full trot,
and, leading them in squadrons through the intervals and round the flanks
of the royal infantry, formed them in line on the moor, and led them to
the charge, advancing in front with one large body, while other two
divisions threatened the flanks of the Covenanters. Their devoted army
was now in that situation when the slightest demonstration towards an
attack was certain to inspire panic. Their broken spirits and
disheartened courage were unable to endure the charge of the cavalry,
attended with all its terrible accompaniments of sight and sound;--the
rush of the horses at full speed, the shaking of the earth under their
feet, the glancing of the swords, the waving of the plumes, and the
fierce shouts of the cavaliers. The front ranks hardly attempted one
ill-directed and disorderly fire, and their rear were broken and flying
in confusion ere the charge had been completed; and in less than five
minutes the horsemen were mixed with them, cutting and hewing without
mercy. The voice of Claverhouse was heard, even above the din of
conflict, exclaiming to his soldiers--"Kill, kill--no quarter--think on
Richard Grahame!" The dragoons, many of whom had shared the disgrace of
Loudon-hill, required no exhortations to vengeance as easy as it was
complete. Their swords drank deep of slaughter among the unresisting
fugitives. Screams for quarter were only answered by the shouts with
which the pursuers accompanied their blows, and the whole field presented
one general scene of confused slaughter, flight, and pursuit.
About twelve hundred of the insurgents who remained in a body a little
apart from the rest, and out of the line of the charge of cavalry, threw
down their arms and surrendered at discretion, upon the approach of the
Duke of Monmouth at the head of the infantry. That mild-tempered nobleman
instantly allowed them the quarter which they prayed for; and, galloping
about through the field, exerted himself as much to stop the slaughter as
he had done to obtain the victory. While busied in this humane task he
met with General Dalzell, who was encouraging the fierce Highlanders and
royal volunteers to show their zeal for King and country, by quenching
the flame of the rebellion with the blood of the rebels.
"Sheathe your sword, I command you, General!" exclaimed the Duke, "and
sound the retreat. Enough of blood has been shed; give quarter to the
King's misguided subjects."
"I obey your Grace," said the old man, wiping his bloody sword and
returning it to the scabbard; "but I warn you, at the same time, that
enough has not been done to intimidate these desperate rebels. Has not
your Grace heard that Basil Olifant has collected several gentlemen and
men of substance in the west, and is in the act of marching to join
them?"
"Basil Olifant?" said the Duke; "who, or what is he?"
"The next male heir to the last Earl of Torwood. He is disaffected to
government from his claim to the estate being set aside in favour of Lady
Margaret Bellenden; and I suppose the hope of getting the inheritance has
set him in motion."
"Be his motives what they will," replied Monmouth, "he must soon disperse
his followers, for this army is too much broken to rally again.
Therefore, once more, I command that the pursuit be stopped."
"It is your Grace's province to command, and to be responsible for your
commands," answered Dalzell, as he gave reluctant orders for checking the
pursuit.
But the fiery and vindictive Grahame was already far out of hearing of
the signal of retreat, and continued with his cavalry an unwearied and
bloody pursuit, breaking, dispersing, and cutting to pieces all the
insurgents whom they could come up with.
Burley and Morton were both hurried off the field by the confused tide of
fugitives. They made some attempt to defend the streets of the town of
Hamilton; but, while labouring to induce the fliers to face about and
stand to their weapons. Burley received a bullet which broke his
sword-arm.
"May the hand be withered that shot the shot!" he exclaimed, as the sword
which he was waving over his head fell powerless to his side. "I can
fight no longer." [Note: This incident, and Burley's exclamation, are
taken from the records.]
Then turning his horse's head, he retreated out of the confusion. Morton
also now saw that the continuing his unavailing efforts to rally the
fliers could only end in his own death or captivity, and, followed by the
faithful Cuddie, he extricated himself from the press, and, being well
mounted, leaped his horse over one or two enclosures, and got into the
open country.
From the first hill which they gained in their flight, they looked back,
and beheld the whole country covered with their fugitive companions, and
with the pursuing dragoons, whose wild shouts and halloo, as they did
execution on the groups whom they overtook, mingled with the groans and
screams of their victims, rose shrilly up the hill.
"It is impossible they can ever make head again," said Morton.
"The head's taen aff them, as clean as I wad bite it aff a sybo!"
rejoined Cuddie. "Eh, Lord! see how the broadswords are flashing! war's
a fearsome thing. They'll be cunning that catches me at this wark
again.--But, for God's sake, sir, let us mak for some strength!"
Morton saw the necessity of following the advice of his trusty squire.
They resumed a rapid pace, and continued it without intermission,
directing their course towards the wild and mountainous country, where
they thought it likely some part of the fugitives might draw together,
for the sake either of making defence, or of obtaining terms.
CHAPTER XII.
They require
Of Heaven the hearts of lions, breath of tigers,
Yea and the fierceness too.
Fletcher.
Evening had fallen; and, for the last two hours, they had seen none of
their ill-fated companions, when Morton and his faithful attendant gained
the moorland, and approached a large and solitary farmhouse, situated in
the entrance of a wild glen, far remote from any other habitation.
"Our horses," said Morton, "will carry us no farther without rest or
food, and we must try to obtain them here, if possible."
So speaking, he led the way to the house. The place had every appearance
of being inhabited. There was smoke issuing from the chimney in a
considerable volume, and the marks of recent hoofs were visible around
the door. They could even hear the murmuring of human voices within the
house. But all the lower windows were closely secured; and when they
knocked at the door, no answer was returned. After vainly calling and
entreating admittance, they withdrew to the stable, or shed, in order to
accommodate their horses, ere they used farther means of gaining
admission. In this place they found ten or twelve horses, whose state of
fatigue, as well as the military yet disordered appearance of their
saddles and accoutrements, plainly indicated that their owners were
fugitive insurgents in their own circumstances.
"This meeting bodes luck," said Cuddie; "and they hae walth o' beef,
that's ae thing certain, for here's a raw hide that has been about the
hurdies o' a stot not half an hour syne--it's warm yet."
Encouraged by these appearances, they returned again to the house, and,
announcing themselves as men in the same predicament with the inmates,
clamoured loudly for admittance.
"Whoever ye be," answered a stern voice from the window, after a long and
obdurate silence, "disturb not those who mourn for the desolation and
captivity of the land, and search out the causes of wrath and of
defection, that the stumbling-blocks may be removed over which we have
stumbled."
"They are wild western whigs," said Cuddie, in a whisper to his master,
"I ken by their language. Fiend hae me, if I like to venture on them!"
Morton, however, again called to the party within, and insisted on
admittance; but, finding his entreaties still disregarded, he opened one
of the lower windows, and pushing asunder the shutters, which were but
slightly secured, stepped into the large kitchen from which the voice had
issued. Cuddie followed him, muttering betwixt his teeth, as he put his
head within the window, "That he hoped there was nae scalding brose on
the fire;" and master and servant both found themselves in the company of
ten or twelve armed men, seated around the fire, on which refreshments
were preparing, and busied apparently in their devotions.
In the gloomy countenances, illuminated by the fire-light, Morton had no
difficulty in recognising several of those zealots who had most
distinguished themselves by their intemperate opposition to all moderate
measures, together with their noted pastor, the fanatical Ephraim
Macbriar, and the maniac, Habakkuk Mucklewrath. The Cameronians neither
stirred tongue nor hand to welcome their brethren in misfortune, but
continued to listen to the low murmured exercise of Macbriar, as he
prayed that the Almighty would lift up his hand from his people, and not
make an end in the day of his anger. That they were conscious of the
presence of the intruders only appeared from the sullen and indignant
glances which they shot at them, from time to time, as their eyes
encountered.
Morton, finding into what unfriendly society he had unwittingly intruded,
began to think of retreating; but, on turning his head, observed with
some alarm, that two strong men had silently placed themselves beside the
window, through which they had entered. One of these ominous sentinels
whispered to Cuddie, "Son of that precious woman, Mause Headrigg, do not
cast thy lot farther with this child of treachery and perdition--Pass on
thy way, and tarry not, for the avenger of blood is behind thee."
With this he pointed to the window, out of which Cuddie jumped without
hesitation; for the intimation he had received plainly implied the
personal danger he would otherwise incur.
"Winnocks are no lucky wi' me," was his first reflection when he was in
the open air; his next was upon the probable fate of his master. "They'll
kill him, the murdering loons, and think they're doing a gude turn! but
I'se tak the back road for Hamilton, and see if I canna get some o' our
ain folk to bring help in time of needcessity."
So saying, Cuddie hastened to the stable, and taking the best horse he
could find instead of his own tired animal, he galloped off in the
direction he proposed.
The noise of his horse's tread alarmed for an instant the devotion of the
fanatics. As it died in the distance, Macbriar brought his exercise to a
conclusion, and his audience raised themselves from the stooping posture,
and louring downward look, with which they had listened to it, and all
fixed their eyes sternly on Henry Morton.
"You bend strange countenances on me, gentlemen," said he, addressing
them. "I am totally ignorant in what manner I can have deserved them."
"Out upon thee! out upon thee!" exclaimed Mucklewrath, starting up: "the
word that thou hast spurned shall become a rock to crush and to bruise
thee; the spear which thou wouldst have broken shall pierce thy side; we
have prayed, and wrestled, and petitioned for an offering to atone the
sins of the congregation, and lo! the very head of the offence is
delivered into our hand. He hath burst in like a thief through the
window; he is a ram caught in the thicket, whose blood shall be a
drink-offering to redeem vengeance from the church, and the place shall
from henceforth be called Jehovah-Jireh, for the sacrifice is provided.
Up then, and bind the victim with cords to the horns of the altar!"
There was a movement among the party; and deeply did Morton regret at
that moment the incautious haste with which he had ventured into their
company. He was armed only with his sword, for he had left his pistols at
the bow of his saddle; and, as the whigs were all provided with
fire-arms, there was little or no chance of escaping from them by
resistance. The interposition, however, of Macbriar protected him for the
moment.
"Tarry yet a while, brethren--let us not use the sword rashly, lest the
load of innocent blood lie heavy on us.--Come," he said, addressing
himself to Morton, "we will reckon with thee ere we avenge the cause thou
hast betrayed.--Hast thou not," he continued, "made thy face as hard as
flint against the truth in all the assemblies of the host?"
"He has--he has," murmured the deep voices of the assistants.
"He hath ever urged peace with the malignants," said one.
"And pleaded for the dark and dismal guilt of the Indulgence," said
another.
"And would have surrendered the host into the hands of Monmouth," echoed
a third; "and was the first to desert the honest and manly Burley, while
he yet resisted at the pass. I saw him on the moor, with his horse bloody
with spurring, long ere the firing had ceased at the bridge."
"Gentlemen," said Morton, "if you mean to bear me down by clamour, and
take my life without hearing me, it is perhaps a thing in your power; but
you will sin before God and man by the commission of such a murder."
"I say, hear the youth," said Macbriar; "for Heaven knows our bowels have
yearned for him, that he might be brought to see the truth, and exert his
gifts in its defence. But he is blinded by his carnal knowledge, and has
spurned the light when it blazed before him."
Silence being obtained, Morton proceeded to assert the good faith which
he had displayed in the treaty with Monmouth, and the active part he had
borne in the subsequent action.
"I may not, gentlemen," he said, "be fully able to go the lengths you
desire, in assigning to those of my own religion the means of tyrannizing
over others; but none shall go farther in asserting our own lawful
freedom. And I must needs aver, that had others been of my mind in
counsel, or disposed to stand by my side in battle, we should this
evening, instead of being a defeated and discordant remnant, have
sheathed our weapons in an useful and honourable peace, or brandished
them triumphantly after a decisive victory."
"He hath spoken the word," said one of the assembly--"he hath avowed his
carnal self-seeking and Erastianism; let him die the death!"
"Peace yet again," said Macbriar, "for I will try him further.--Was it
not by thy means that the malignant Evandale twice escaped from death and
captivity? Was it not through thee that Miles Bellenden and his garrison
of cut-throats were saved from the edge of the sword?"