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LAYS 
 
 OF 
 
 THE SCOTTISH CAYALIEES 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 B- 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM EDMONDSTOUNE ^YTOUN, 
 
 EDITOR OF Blackwood's magazine, and professor of rhetorio 
 
 AND BELLES LETTRE3 IN THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF EDINBURGH. 
 
 i 
 
 REDFIELD, 
 
 CLINTON HALL, NEW YORK, 
 1852. 
 
■f^^o^l 
 
 u 
 
 i- 
 
 j^%St 
 
TO 
 
 THE EIGHT HONORABLE 
 
 ARCHIBALD WILLIAM HAMILTON-MONTGOMERIE, 
 ISarl of ISfllinton anU ^H&inton, 
 
 THE PATRIOTIC AND NOBLE REPRESENTATIVE 
 
 OF AN ANCIENT SCOTTISH RACE, 
 
 THIS VOLUME IS EESPECTFTJLLT INSCRIBED 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
LAYS 
 
 OF 
 
 THE SCOTTISH CAVAIIERS. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN 3 
 
 THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE 35 
 
 THE HEART OE THE BRUCE 61 
 
 THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE 83 
 
 THE WIDOW OF GLENCOE 117 
 
 THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS 141 
 
 CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES 169 
 
 THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER 231 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 BLIND OLD MILTON 255 
 
 HERMOTIMUS 265 
 
 CENONE 283 
 
 THE BURIED FLOWER 287 
 
 THE OLD CAMP 301 
 
 DANUBE AND THE EUXINE 306 
 
 1 
 
VIU CONTENTS. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS I'OIIMS— (Continued.) 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 THE SCHEIK CF SINAI 310 
 
 EPITAPH OF CONSTANTINE KANARIS 317 
 
 THE REFUSAL OF CHARON 319 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 EXAMINATION OF THE STATEMENTS IN MR. MACAU" 
 LAy's HISTORY OF ENGLAND, REGARDING JOHN 
 GRAHAME OF CLAVERHOUSE, VISCOUNT OF 
 DUNDEE 325 
 
EDINBURGH 
 
 APTER 
 
 F L O D D E iN . 
 
 The great battle of Flodden was fought upon the 
 9th of September, 1513. The defeat of the Scottish 
 army, resulting mainly from the fantastic ideas of 
 chivalry entertained by James IV., and his refusal 
 to avail himself of the natural advantages of his 
 position, was by far the most disastrous of any 
 recounted in the history of the northern wars. 
 The whole strength of the kingdom, both Lowland 
 and Highland, was assembled, and the contest 
 
4 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 was one of the sternest and most desperate upon 
 record. 
 
 For several hours the issue seemed doubtful. 
 On the left the Scots obtained a decided advantage ; 
 on the right wing they were broken and over- 
 thrown ; and at last the whole weight of the battle 
 was brought into the centre, where King James and 
 the Earl of Surrey commanded in person. The 
 determined valor of James, imprudent as it was, 
 had the effect of rousing to a pitch of desperation 
 the courage of the meanest soldiers ; and the 
 ground becoming soft and slippery from blood, 
 they pulled off their boots and shoes, and secured 
 a firmer footing by fighting in their hose. 
 
 " It is owned," says Abercromb}'-, " that both 
 parties did wonders, but none on either side per- 
 formed more than the King himself. He was 
 again told that, by coming to handy blows, he 
 could do no more than another man, whereas, by 
 keeping the post due to his station, he might be 
 worth many thousands. Yet he would not only 
 fight in person, but also on foot ; for he no sooner 
 
EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 5 
 
 saw that body of the English give way which 'was 
 defeated by the Earl of Huntley, but he alighted 
 from his horse, and commanded his guard of noble- 
 men and gentlemen to do the like and follow him. 
 He had at first abundance of success ; but at length 
 the Lord Thomas Howard and Sir Edward Stanley, 
 who had defeated their opposites, coming in with 
 the Lord Dacre's horse, and surrounding the King's 
 battalion on all sides, the Scots were so distressed 
 that, for their last 'defence, they cast themselves 
 into a rmg ; and, being resolved to die nobly with 
 their sovereign, who scorned to ask quarter, were 
 altogether cut off. So say the English writers, and 
 I am. apt to believe that they are in the right." 
 
 The combat was maintained with desperate fury 
 until nightfall. At the close, according to Mr. Tyt- 
 ler, " Surrey was uncertain of the result of the bat- 
 tle : the remains of the enemy's centre still held the 
 field ; Home, with his Borderers, still hovered on 
 the left ; and the commander wisely allowed neither 
 pursuit nor plunder, but drew off his men, and kept 
 a strict watch during the night. When the morning 
 
LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 broke, the Scottish artillery were seen standing 
 deserted on the side of the hill : their defenders had 
 disappeared; and the Earl ordered thanks to be 
 given for a victory which was no longer doubtful. 
 Yet, even after all this, a body of the Scots appeared 
 unbroken upon a hill, and were about to charge the 
 Lord Admiral, when they were compelled to leave 
 their position by a discharge of the English ordi- 
 nance. 
 
 " The loss of the Scots in this'fatal battle amount- 
 ed to about ten thousand men. Of these, a great 
 proportion were of high rank ; the remainder being 
 composed of the gentry, the farmers, and landed 
 yeomanry, who disdained to fly when their sovereign 
 and his nobles lay stretched in heaps around them." 
 Besides King James, there fell at Flodden the Arch- 
 bishop of St. Andrews, tliirteen earls, two bishops, 
 two abbots, fifteen lords and chiefs of clans, and 
 five peers' eldest sons, besides La Motte the French 
 ambassador, and the secretary of the King. The 
 same historian adds — "The names of the gentry 
 who fell are too numerous for recapitulation, since 
 
EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 7 
 
 there were few families of note in Scotland which 
 did not lose one relative or another, whilst some 
 houses had to weep the death of all. It is from this 
 cause that the sensations of sorrow and national 
 lamentation occasioned by the defeat were pecu- 
 liarly poignant and lasting — so that to this day few 
 Scotsmen can hear the name of Flodden without a 
 shudder of gloomy regret." 
 
 The loss to Edinburgh on this occasion was pecu- 
 liarly great. All the magistrates and able-bodied 
 citizens had followed their King to Flodden, whence 
 very few of them returned. The office of Provost 
 or chief magistrate of the capital was at that time 
 an object of ambition, and was conferred only upon 
 persons of high rank and station. There seems to 
 be some uncertainty whether the holder of this dig- 
 nity at the time of the battle of Flodden was Sir 
 Alexander Lauder, ancestor of the Fountainhall 
 family, who was elected in 1511, or that great his- 
 torical personage, Archibald Earl of Angus, better 
 known as Archibald Bell-the-Cat, who was chosen 
 in 1513, the year of the battle. Both of them were 
 
8 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 at riodden. The name of Sir Alexander Lauder 
 appears upon the list of the slain ; Angus was one 
 of the survivors, but his son, George, Master of 
 Angus, fell fighting gallantly by the side of King 
 James. The city records of Edinburgh, which com- 
 mence about this period, are not clear upon the 
 point, and I am rather inclined to think that the 
 Earl of Angus was elected to supply the place of 
 Lauder. But although the actual magistrates were 
 absent, they had formally nominated deputies in 
 their stead. I find, on referring to the city records, 
 that " George of Tours " had been appointed to 
 officiate in the absence of the Provost, and that 
 four other persons were selected to discharge the 
 office of bailies until the masfistrates should return. 
 
 It is impossible to describe the consternation 
 which pervaded the whole of Scotland when the 
 intelligence of the defeat became known. In Edin- 
 burgh it was excessive. Mr. Arnot, in the history 
 of that city, says, — 
 
 "The news of their overthrow in the field of 
 riodden reached Edinburgh on the day after the 
 
EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDE^^ 9 
 
 iDattle, and ovenvlielmed the inhabitants with grief 
 and confusion. The streets were crowded with 
 women seeking intelligence about their friends, 
 clamoring and weeping. Those who officiated in 
 absence of the magistrates proved themselves wor- 
 thy of the trust. They issued a proclamation, or- 
 dering all the inhabitants to assemble in military 
 array for defence of the city, on the tolling of the 
 bell ; and commandmg, ' that all women, and espe- 
 cially strangers, do repair to their work, and not be 
 seen upon the street clamorand and cry and ; and 
 that women of the better sort do repair to the 
 church and offer up prayers, at the stated hours, for 
 our Sovereign Lord and his army, and the towns- 
 men who are with the army." 
 * Indeed, the council records bear ample evidence 
 of the emergency of that occasion. Throughout 
 the earlier pages, the word " Flowdoun " frequently 
 occurs on the margin, in reference to various 
 hurried orders for arming and defence ; and there 
 can be no doubt that, had the English forces 
 
 attempted to follow up their victory, and attack the 
 
 1^ 
 
10 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Scottish capital, the citizens would have resisted to 
 the last. But it soon became apparent that the 
 loss sustained by the English was so severe, that 
 Surrey was in no condition to avail himself of the 
 opportunity; and in fact, shortly afterwards, he 
 was compelled to disband his army. 
 
 The references to the city banner, contained in the 
 following poem, may require a word of explana- 
 tion. It is a standard still held in great honor and 
 reverence by the burghers of Edinburgh, having 
 been presented to them by James the Third, in 
 return for their loyal service in 1482. This banner, 
 along with that of the Earl Marischal, still conspi- 
 cuous in the Library of the Faculty of Advocates, 
 was honorably brought back from Elodden, and 
 certainly never could have been displayed in a more * 
 memorable field. Maitland says, with reference to 
 this very interesting relic of antiquity, — 
 
 "As a perpetual remembrance of .the loyalty and 
 bravery of the Edinburghers on the aforesaid occa- 
 sion, the King granted them a banner or standard, 
 with a power to display the same in defence of their 
 
EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. H 
 
 king, country, and their own rights. This flag is 
 kept by the Convener of the Trades; at whose 
 appearance therewith, it is said that not only the 
 artificers of Edinburgh are obliged to repair to it, 
 but all the artizans or craftsmen within Scotland 
 are bound to follow it, and fight under the Con- 
 vener of Edinburgh as aforesaid." 
 
 No event in Scottish history ever took a more 
 lasting hold of the public mind than the " woful 
 fight " of Flodden ; and, even now, the songs and 
 traditions which are current on the Border recall 
 the memory of the contest unsullied by disgrace, 
 though terminating in disaster and defeat. 
 
EDINBUEGH 
 
 ATTEE 
 
 F L O D D E iN 
 
 I. 
 
 News of battle ! — news of battle ! 
 
 Hark ! 'tis ringing down the street : 
 And the archways and the pavement 
 
 Bear the clang of hurrying feet. 
 News of battle ! who hath brought it 1 
 
 News of triumph 1 Who should bring 
 Tidings from our noble army, 
 
 Greetings from our gallant King 1 
 
14 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 All last night we watched the beacons 
 
 Blazing on the hills afar, 
 Each one bearing, as it kindled, 
 
 Message of the opened war. 
 All night long the northern streamers 
 
 Shot across the trembling sky : 
 Tearful lights, that never beckon 
 
 Save when kings or heroes die. 
 
 II. 
 
 News of battle ! Who hath brought iti 
 
 All are thronging to the gate ; 
 " Warder — warder ! open quickly ! 
 
 Man — is this a time to wait 1" 
 And the heavy gates are opened : 
 
 Then a murmur long and loud. 
 And a cry of fear and wonder 
 
 Bursts from out the bendmg crowd. 
 For they see in battered harness 
 
 Only one hard-stricken man ; 
 And his weary steed is wounded, 
 
 And his cheek is pale and wan : 
 
EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 15 
 
 Spearless hangs a bloody banner 
 In his weak and drooping hand — 
 
 God ! can that be Randolph Murray, 
 Captain of the city band 1 
 
 III. 
 
 Round him crush the people, crying, 
 
 " Tell us all— oh, tell us true ! 
 Where are they who went to battle, 
 
 Randolph Murray, sworn to you 1 
 Where are they, our brothers — childi'en 1 
 
 Have they met the English foe 1 
 Why art thou alone, unfollowed? 
 
 Is it weal or is it wo f 
 Like a corpse the grisly warrior 
 
 Looks from out his helm of steel ; 
 But no word he speaks in answer — 
 
 Only with his armed heel 
 Chides his weary steed, and onward 
 
 Up the city streets they ride ; 
 Fathers, sisters, mothers, children. 
 
 Shrieking, praying by his side. 
 
16 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 " By the God that made thee, Randolph ! 
 
 Tell us what mischance hath come." 
 Then he lifts his riven banner, 
 
 And the asker's voice is dumb. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The elders of the city- 
 Have met within their hall — 
 The men whom good King James had charged 
 
 To watch the tower and wall. 
 " Your hands are weak with age," he said, 
 
 " Your hearts are stout and true ; 
 So bide ye in the Maiden Town, 
 
 While others fight for you. 
 My trumpet from the Border-side 
 
 Shall §end a blast so clear, 
 That all who wait within the gate 
 
 That stirring sound may hear. 
 Or, if it be the will of heaven 
 
 That back I never come. 
 And if, instead of Scottish shouts, 
 
 Ye hear the English drum, — 
 
EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 17 
 
 Then let the warning bells rmg out, 
 
 Then gird you to the fray, 
 Then man the walls like burghers stout, 
 
 And fight while fight you may. 
 'Twere better that in fiery flame 
 
 The roofs should thunder down, 
 Than that the foot of foreign foe 
 
 Should trample in the town !" 
 
 V. 
 
 Then in came Randolph Murray, — 
 
 Jlis step was slow and weak, 
 And, as he doffed his dinted helm. 
 
 The tears ran down his cheek : 
 They fell upon his corslet 
 
 And on his mailed hand. 
 As he gazed around him wistfully, 
 
 Leaning sorely on his brand. 
 And none who then beheld him 
 
 But straight were smote with fear, 
 Tor a bolder and a sterner man 
 
 Had never couched a spear. 
 
18 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 They knew so sad a messenger 
 Some ghastly news must bring ; 
 
 And all of them were fathers, 
 
 And their sons were with the King. 
 
 • VI. 
 
 And up then rose the Provost — 
 
 A brave old man was he, 
 Of ancient name, and knightly fame, 
 
 And chivalrous degree. 
 He ruled our city like a Lord 
 
 Who brooked no equal here. 
 And ever for the townsman's rights 
 
 Stood up 'gainst prince and peer. 
 And he had seen the Scottish host 
 
 March from the Borough-muir, 
 With music-storm and clamorous shout, 
 And all the din that thunders out 
 
 When youth 's of victory sure. 
 But yet a dearer thought had he, — 
 
 For, with a father's pride, 
 
EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 19 
 
 He saw his last remaining son 
 
 Go forth by Randolph's side, 
 With casque on head and spur on heel, 
 
 All keen to do and dare ; 
 And proudly did that gallant boy 
 
 Dunedin's banner bear. 
 Oh ! woful now was the old man's look, 
 
 And he spake right heavily — 
 " Now, Randolph tell thy tidings, 
 
 However sharp they be ! 
 Wo is written on thy visage. 
 
 Death is looking from thy face : 
 Speak ! though it be of overthrow — 
 
 It camiot be disgrace !" 
 
 VII. 
 
 Right bitter was the agony 
 
 Tliat wrung that soldier proud : 
 Thrice did he strive to answer, 
 
 And thrice he groaned aloud. 
 Then he gave the riven banner 
 
 To the old man's shaking hand, 
 
20 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Saying — " That is all I bring ye 
 
 From the bravest of the land ! 
 Ay ! ye may look uj)on it — 
 
 It was guarded well and long, 
 By your brothers and your children, 
 
 By the valiant and the strong. 
 One by one they fell around it, 
 
 As the archers laid them low, 
 Grimly dying, still unconquered. 
 
 With their faces to the foe. ' 
 Ay ! ye may well look upon it — 
 
 There is more than honor there, 
 Else, be sure, I had not brought it 
 
 From the field of dark desj)air. 
 Never yet was royal banner 
 
 Steeped in such a costly dye : 
 It hath lain upon a bosom 
 
 Where no other shrOuds shall lie. 
 Sirs ! I charge you keep it holy. 
 
 Keep it as a sacred thing, 
 For the stain ye see upon it 
 
 Was the life-blood of your King !" 
 
EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 21 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Wo-, WO, and lamentation ! 
 
 What a piteous cry was there ! 
 Widows, maidens, mothers, children, 
 
 Shrieking, sobbing in despair ! 
 Through the streets the death-word rushes, 
 
 Spreading terror, sweeping on — 
 " Jesu Christ ! our King has fallen — 
 
 O Great God, King James is gone ! 
 Holy Mother Mary, shield us. 
 
 Thou who erst didst lose thy Son ! 
 O the blackest day for Scotland 
 
 That she ever knew before ! 
 O our King — the good, the noble, 
 
 Shall we see him never more "? 
 Wo to us, and wo to Scotland ! 
 
 O our sons, our sons and. men ! 
 Surely some have 'scaped the Southron, 
 
 Surely some will come again !" 
 Till the oak that fell last winter 
 
 Shall uprear its shattered stem — 
 
$2 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Wives and mothers of Dunedin — 
 Ye may look in vain for them ! 
 
 IX. 
 
 But within the Council Chamber 
 
 All was silent as the grave, 
 Whilst the tempest of their sorrow 
 
 Shook the bosoms of the brave. 
 Well indeed might they be shaken 
 
 With the weight of such a blow : 
 He was gone — their prince, their idol, 
 
 Whom they loved and worshipped so ! 
 Like a knell of death and judgment 
 
 Rung from heaven by angel hand, 
 Fell the words of desolation ^ 
 
 On the elders of the land. 
 Hoary heads were bowed and trembling, 
 
 Withered hands were clasped and wrun^ 
 God had left the old and feeble. 
 
 He had ta'en away the young. 
 
EDINBOIIGH AFTER FLODDEN. 28 
 
 X. 
 
 Then the Provost he uprose, 
 
 And his lip was ashen white ; 
 But a flush was on his brow, 
 
 And his eye was full of light. 
 " Thou hast spoken, Randolph Murray, 
 
 Like a soldier stout and true ; 
 Thou hast done a deed of daring 
 
 Had been perilled but by few. 
 For thou hast not shamed to face us, 
 
 Nor to speak thy ghastly tale, 
 Standing — thou a knight and captam — 
 
 Here, alive within thy mail ! 
 Now, as my God shall judge me, 
 
 I hold it braver done. 
 Than hadst thou tarried in thy place, 
 
 And died above my son ! 
 Thou need'st not tell it : he is dead. 
 
 God help us all this day ! 
 But speak — how fought the citizens 
 
 Within the furious fray ! 
 
24 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 For, by the might of Mary ! 
 
 'Twere something still to tell 
 That no Scottish foot went backward 
 
 When the Eoyal Lion fell !" 
 
 / 
 
 XI. 
 
 " No one failed him ! He is keeping 
 
 Royal state and semblance still ; 
 Knight and noble lie around him, 
 
 Cold on riodden's fatal hill. 
 Of the brave and gallant-hearted, 
 
 Whom ye sent with prayers away. 
 Not a single man departed 
 
 From his Monarch yesterday. 
 Had you seen them, O my masters ! 
 
 When the night began to fall. 
 And the English spearmen gathered 
 
 Round a grim and ghastly wall ! 
 As the wolves in winter circle 
 
 Round the leaguer on the heath. 
 So the greedy foe glared upward. 
 
 Panting still for blood and death. 
 
EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 25 
 
 But a rampart rose before them, 
 
 Which the boldest dare not scale ; 
 Every stone a Scottish body, 
 
 Every step a corpse in mail ! 
 An'H behmd it lay our Monarch, 
 
 Clenching still his shivered sword : 
 By his side Montrose and Athole, 
 
 At his feet a Southron lord. 
 All so thick they lay together, 
 
 When the stars lit up the sky. 
 That I knew not who were stricken, 
 
 Or who yet remained to die. 
 Few there were when Surrey halted. 
 
 And his wearied host withdrew ; 
 None but dying men around me, 
 
 When the English trumpet blew. 
 Then I stooped, and took the banner, 
 
 As you see it from his breast, 
 And I closed our hero's eyelids, 
 
 And I left him to his rest. 
 In the mountains growled the thunder, 
 
 As I leaped the woful wall, 
 
26 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 And the heavy clouds were settling 
 Over Flodden, like a pall." 
 
 xir. 
 
 So he ended. And the others 
 
 Cared not any answer then ; 
 Sitting silent, dumb with sorrow, 
 
 Sitting anguish-struck, like men 
 Who have seen the roaring torrent 
 
 Sweep their happy homes away, 
 And yet linger by the margin, 
 
 Staring wildly on the spray. 
 But, without, the maddening tumult 
 
 Waxes ever more and more, 
 And the crowd of wailing women 
 
 Gather round the council door. 
 Every dusky spire is ringing 
 
 With a dull and hollow knell, 
 And the Miserere 's singing 
 
 To the tolling of the bell. 
 Through the streets the burghers hurry, 
 
 Spreading terror as they go ; 
 
EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 27 
 
 And the rampart 's thronged with watchers 
 
 For the coming of the foe. 
 From each mountain-top a pillar 
 
 Streams into the torpid air. 
 Bearing token from the Border 
 
 That the English host is there. 
 All without is flight and terror, 
 
 All within is wo and fear — 
 God protect thee, Maiden City, 
 
 For thy latest hour is near ! 
 
 XIII. 
 
 No ! not yet, thou high Dunedin ! 
 
 Shalt thou totter to thy fell ; 
 Though thy bravest and thy strongest 
 
 Are not there to man the wall. 
 No, not yet ! the ancient spirit 
 
 Of our fathers hath not gone ; 
 Take it to thee as a buckler 
 
 Better far than steel or stone. 
 Oh, remember those who perished 
 
 For thy birthright at the time 
 
28 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 When to be a Scot was treason, 
 
 And to side with Wallace, crime ! 
 Have they not a voice among us, 
 
 Whilst their hallowed dust is here ? 
 Hear ye nut a summons sounding 
 
 From each buried warrior's bier? 
 Up ! — they say — and keep the freedom 
 
 Which we won you long ago : 
 Up ! and keep your graves unsullied 
 
 From the insults of the foe ! 
 Up ! and if ye cannot save them. 
 
 Come to us in blood and fire : 
 Midst the crash of falling turrets. 
 
 Let the last. of Scots expire ! 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Still the bells are tolling fiercely, 
 And the cry comes louder in ; 
 
 Mothers wailing for their children, 
 Sisters for their slaughtered kin. 
 
 All is terror and disorder. 
 Till the Provost rises up, 
 
EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 29 
 
 Calm, as though he had not tasted 
 
 Of the fell and bitter cup. 
 All so stately from his sorrow, 
 
 Rose the old undaunted Chief, 
 That you had not deemed, to see him, 
 
 His was more than common grief. 
 " Rouse ye. Sirs !" he said ; "we may not 
 
 Longer mourn for what is done ; 
 If our King be taken from us. 
 
 We are left to guard his son. 
 We have sworn to keep the city 
 
 From the foe, what'er they be. 
 And the oath that we have taken 
 
 Never shall be broke by me. 
 Death is nearer to us, brethren. 
 
 Than it seemed to those who died, 
 righting yesterday at Flodden, 
 
 By their lord and master's side. 
 Let us meet it then in patience, 
 
 Not in terror or in fear ; 
 Though om* hearts are bleeding yonder. 
 
 Let our souls be steadfast here. 
 
30 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Up, and rouse ye ! Time is fleeting, 
 
 And we yet have much to do ; 
 Up, and haste ye through the city, 
 
 Stir the burghers stout and true ! 
 Gather all our scattered people, 
 
 riing the banner out once more, — 
 Randolph Murray ! do thou bear it, 
 
 As it erst was borne before : 
 Never Scottish heart will leave it, 
 
 When they see their Monarch's gore ! 
 
 XV. 
 
 " Let them cease that dismal knelling ! 
 
 It is time enough to ring, 
 When the fortress-strength of Scotland 
 
 Stoops to ruin like its King. 
 Let the bells be kept for warning, 
 
 Not for terror or alarm ; 
 When they next are heard to thunder, 
 
 Let each man and stripling arm. 
 Bid the women leave their wailing — 
 
 Do they think that woful strain. 
 
EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 31 
 
 From the bloody heaps of Flodden, 
 
 Can redeem their dearest slain 1 
 Bid them cease — or rather hasten 
 
 To the churches, every one ; 
 There to pray to Mary Mother, 
 
 And to her anointed Son, 
 That the thunderbolt above us 
 
 May not fall in ruin yet ; 
 That in fire and blood and rapine 
 
 Scotland's glory may not set. 
 Let them pray, — for never women 
 
 Stood in need of such a prayer ! — 
 England's yeomen shall not find them 
 
 Clinging to the altars there. 
 No ! if we are doomed to perish, 
 
 Man and maiden, let us fall. 
 And a common gulf of ruin 
 
 Open wide to whelm us all ! 
 Never shall the ruthless spoiler 
 
 Lay his hot insulting hand 
 On the sisters of our heroes. 
 
 Whilst we bear a torch or brand ! 
 
32 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Up ! and rouse ye, then, my brothers, — 
 
 But when next ye hear the bell 
 Sounding forth the sullen summons 
 
 That may be our funeral knell, 
 Once more let us meet together, 
 
 Once more see each other's face ; 
 Then, like men that need not tremble, 
 
 Go to our appointed place. 
 God, our Father, will not fail us 
 
 In that last tremendous hour, — ■■ 
 If all other bulwarks crumble. 
 
 He will be our strength and tower : 
 Though the ramparts rock beneath us. 
 
 And the walls go crashing down, 
 Though the roar of conflagration 
 
 Bellow o'er the sinking town ; 
 There is yet one place of shelter, 
 
 Where the foeman camiot come. 
 Where the summons never sounded 
 
 Of the trumpet or the drum. 
 There again we'll meet our children, 
 
 Who, on Flodden's trampled sod, 
 
EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN. 33 
 
 For their king and for their country- 
 Rendered up their souls to God. 
 
 There shall vv'e find rest and refuge, 
 With our dear departed brave ; 
 
 And the ashes of the city 
 Be our universal grave I" 
 
 i 
 
THE EXECUTION 
 
 OF 
 
 MONTROSE. 
 
 The most poetical chronicler would find it impos- 
 sible to render the incidents of Montrose's brilliant 
 career more picturesque than the reality. Among 
 the devoted champions who, during the wildest and 
 most stormy period of our history, maintained the 
 cause of Church and King, " the Great Marquis " 
 undoubtedly is entitled to the foremost place. Even 
 party malevolence, by no means extinct at the pre- 
 sent day, has been unable to detract from the eulogy 
 
36 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 pronounced upon him hj the famous Cardinal de 
 Retz, the friend of Conde and Turenne, when he 
 thus summed up his character : — " Montrose, a 
 Scottish nobleman, head of the house of Grahame 
 — the only man in the world that has ever realized 
 to me the ideas of certain heroes, whom we now 
 discover nowhere but in the Lives of Plutarch — ^has 
 sustained in his own country the cause of the King 
 his master, with a greatness of soul that has not 
 found its equal in our age." 
 
 But the success of the victorious leader and 
 patriot is almost thrown into the shade by the 
 noble magnanimity and Christian heroism of the 
 man in the hour of defeat and death. Without 
 wishing, in any degree, to revive a controversy long 
 maintained by writers of opposite political and po- 
 lemical opinions, it may fairly be stated that Scot- 
 tish history does not present us with a tragedy of 
 parallel interest. That the execution of Montrose 
 was the natural, nay, the inevitable, consequence of 
 his capture, may be freely admitted even by the 
 fiercest partizan of the cause for which he staked his 
 
THE EXECUTIOX OF MONTROSE. 37 
 
 life. In those times, neither party was disposed to 
 lenity ; and Montrose was far too conspicuous a 
 character, and too dangerous a man, to be forgiven. 
 But the ignominious and savage treatment which he 
 received at the hands of those whose station and 
 descent should at least have taught them to respect 
 misfortune, has left an indelible stain upon the 
 memory of the Covenanting chiefs, and more espe- 
 cially upon that of Argyle. 
 
 The perfect serenity of the man m the hour of 
 trial and death, the courage and magnanimity which 
 he displayed to the last, have been dwelt upon with 
 admiration by writers of every class. He heard his 
 sentence delivered without any apparent emotion, 
 and afterwards told the magistrates who waited 
 upon him in prison, " that he was much indebted to 
 the Parliament for the great honor they had decreed 
 him ;" adding, " that he was prouder to have his 
 head placed upon the top of the prison, than if they 
 had decreed a golden statue to be erected to him 
 in the market-place, or that his picture should be 
 hung in the King's bed-chamber." He said, " he 
 
38 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 thanked them for their care to preserve the remem- 
 brance of his loyalty, by transmitting such monu- 
 ments to the different parts of the kingdom ; and 
 only wished that he had flesh enough to have sent a 
 piece to every city in Christendom, as a token of 
 his unshaken love and fidelity to his king and coun- 
 try." On the night before his execution, he inscrib- 
 ed the following lines with a diamond on the win- 
 dow of his jail : — 
 
 " Let them bestow on every airth 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 — strew 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." 
 
 After the Restoration, the dust was recovered, the 
 scattered remnants collected, and the bones of the 
 hero conveyed to their final restmg-place by a 
 numerous assemblage of gentlemen of his family 
 and name. 
 
THE EXECUTION OF MOXTROSE. 39 
 
 There is no ingredient of fiction in the historical 
 incidents recorded in the following ballad. The 
 indignities that were heaped upon Montrose during 
 his procession through Edinburgh, his appearance 
 before the Estates, and his last passage to the scaf- 
 fold, as well as his undaunted bearing, have all been 
 spoken to by eyewitness of the scene. A graphic 
 and vivid sketch of the whole will be found in Mr. 
 Mark Napier's volume, "The Life and Times of 
 Montrose " — a work as chivalrous in its tone as the 
 Chronicles of Eroissart, and abounding in original 
 and most interesting materials; but, in order to 
 satisfy all scruple, the authorities for each fact are 
 given in the shape of notes. The ballad may be 
 considered as a narrative of the transactions, related 
 by an aged Highlander, who had followed Montrose 
 throughout his campaigns, to liis grandson, shortly 
 before the battle of Killiecrankie. 
 
THE EXECUTION 
 
 07 
 
 MONTROSE. 
 
 I. 
 
 Come hither, Evan Cameron ! 
 
 Come, stand beside my knee — 
 I hear the river roaring down 
 
 Towards the wintry sea. 
 There's shouting on the mountain-side, 
 
 There's war wHthin the blast — 
 Old faces look upon me. 
 
 Old forms go trooping past. 
 
42 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 I hear the pibroch wailing 
 
 Amidst the din of fight, 
 And my dim spirit wakes again 
 
 Upon the verge of night. 
 
 II. 
 
 'Twas I that led the Highland host 
 
 Through wild Lochaber's snows, 
 What time the plaided clans came down 
 
 To battle with Montrose. 
 I've told thee how the Southrons fell 
 
 Beneath the broad claymore, 
 And how we smote the Campbell clan 
 
 By Inverlochy's shore. 
 I've told thee how we swept Dundee, 
 
 And tamed the Lindsays' pride ; 
 But never have I told thee yet 
 
 How the great Marquis died. 
 
 III. 
 
 • A traitor sold him to his foes ; — 
 deed of deathless shame ! 
 
THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE. 43 
 
 I charge thee, boy, if e'er thou meet 
 
 With one of Assynt's name — 
 Be it upon the mountain's side, 
 
 Or yet within the glen, 
 Stand he in martial gear alone, 
 
 Or backed by armed men — 
 Face him, as thou wouldst face the man 
 
 Who wronged thy sire's renown ; 
 Remember of what blood thou art. 
 
 And strike the caitiff down ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 They brought him to the Watergate, 
 
 Hard bound with hempen span. 
 As though they held a lion there, x 
 
 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. 
 Tlien, as a hound is slipped from leash, 
 
 They cheered the common throng, 
 
44 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 And blew the note with yell and shout, 
 And bade him pass along. 
 
 V. 
 
 It would have made a brave man's heart 
 
 Grow sad and sick that day, 
 To watch the keen malignant eyes 
 
 Bent down on that array. 
 There stood the Whig west-country lords 
 
 In balcony and bow ; 
 There sat their gaunt and withered dames, 
 
 And their daughters all a-row. 
 And every open window 
 
 Was full as full might be 
 With black-robed Covenanting carles, 
 
 That goodly sport to see ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 But when he came, though pale and wan, 
 He looked so great and high, 
 
 So noble was his manly front, 
 So calm his steadfast eye ; — 
 
THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE. 45 
 
 The rabble rout forbore to shout, 
 
 And each man held his breath, 
 For well they knew the hero's soul 
 
 Was face to face with death. 
 And then a mournful shudder 
 
 Through all the people crept, 
 And some that came to scoff at him 
 
 Now turned aside and wept. 
 
 VII. 
 
 But onwards — always onwards, 
 
 In silence and in gloom, 
 The dreary pageant labored. 
 
 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 Grteme looked upwards, 
 
 He saw the ugly smile 
 Of him who sold his king for gold — 
 
 The master-fiend Argyle! 
 
46 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The Marquis gazed a moment, 
 
 And nothing did he say, 
 But the cheek of Argyle grew ghastly pale, 
 
 And he turned his eyes away. 
 The painted harlot by his side. 
 
 She shook through every limb, 
 !For a roar like thunder swept the street, 
 
 And hands were clenched at him ; 
 And a Saxon soldier cried aloud, 
 
 " Back, coward, from thy place ! 
 For seven long years thou hast not dared 
 
 To look liim in the face." 
 
 IX. 
 
 Had I been there with sword in hand. 
 
 And fifty Camerons by. 
 That day through high Dunedin's streets 
 
 Had pealed the slogan-cry. 
 Not all their troops of trampling horse. 
 
 Nor might of mailed men — 
 
THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE. 47 
 
 Not all the rebels in the south 
 
 Had borne us backwards then ! 
 Once more his foot on Highland heath 
 
 Had trod as free as air, 
 Or I, and all who bore my name, 
 
 Been laid around him there ! 
 
 X. 
 
 It might not be. They placed him next 
 
 Within the solemn hall, 
 Where once the Scottish kings were throned 
 
 Amidst their nobles all. 
 But there was dust of vulgar feet 
 
 On that polluted floor. 
 And perjured traitors filled the place 
 
 Where good men sate before. 
 With savage glee came Warriston 
 
 To read the murderous doom ; 
 And then uprose the great Montrose 
 
 In the middle of the room. 
 
48 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 XI. 
 
 " Now, by my faith as belted knight, 
 
 And by the name I bear, 
 And by the bright Saint Andrew's cross 
 
 That waves above us there — 
 Yea, by a greater, mightier oath — 
 
 And oh, that such should be ! — 
 By that dark stream of royal blood 
 
 That lies 'twixt you and me — 
 I have not sought in battle-field 
 
 A wreath of such renown. 
 Nor dared I hope on my dying day 
 
 To win the martyr's crown ! 
 
 XII. 
 
 " There is a chamber far away 
 Where sleep the good and brave, 
 
 But a better place ye have named for me 
 Than by my fathers' grave. 
 
 For truth and right, 'gainst treason's might, 
 This hand hath always striven. 
 
 II 
 
THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE. 
 
 Aiid ye raise it up for a witness still 
 In the eye of earth and heaven. 
 
 Then nail my head on yonder tower — 
 Give every town a limb — 
 
 And God who made shall gather them : 
 I go from you to Him !" 
 
 ^ 
 
 XIII. 
 
 The morning dawned full darkly, 
 
 The ram came flashing down, 
 And the jagged streak of the levin-bolt 
 
 Lit up the gloomy town : 
 The thunder crashed across the heaven. 
 
 The fatal hour was come ; 
 Yet aye broke in, with muffled beat, 
 
 The 'larum of the drum. 
 There was madness on the earth below 
 
 And anger in the sky, 
 
 And young and old, and rich and poor, 
 
 Came forth to see him die. 
 3 
 
60 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Ah, God ! that ghastly gibbet ! 
 
 How dismal 'tis to see 
 The great tall spectral skeleton, 
 
 The ladder and the tree ! 
 Hark ! hark ! it is the clash of arms — 
 
 The bells begin to toll — 
 " He is coming ! he is coming ! 
 
 God's mercy on his soul !" 
 One last long peal of thunder — • 
 
 The clouds are cleared away, 
 And the glorious sun once more looks down 
 
 Amidst the dazzling day. 
 
 XV. 
 
 " He is coming ! he is coming !" 
 ^ Like a bridegroom from his room, 
 Came the hero from his prison 
 
 To the scaffold and the doom. 
 There was glory on his forehead, 
 
 There was lustre in liis eye. 
 
THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE. 51 
 
 And he never walked to battle 
 
 More proudly than to die ; 
 There was color in his visage, • 
 
 Though the cheeks of all were wan, 
 And'they marvelled as they saw him pass, 
 
 Tliat great and goodly man ! 
 
 XVI. 
 
 He mounted up the scaffold, 
 
 And he turned him to the crowd ; 
 
 But they dared not trust the people, 
 So he might not speak aloud. 
 
 But he looked upon the heavens, 
 And they were clear and blue. 
 
 And in the liquid ether 
 
 Tlie eye of God shone through ; 
 
 Yet a black and murky battlement 
 Lay resting on the hill, 
 
 As though the thunder slept within- 
 All else was calm and still. 
 
52 
 
 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 The grim Geneva ministers 
 
 With anxious scowl drew near, 
 As you have seen the ravens flock 
 
 Around the dying deer. 
 He would not deign them word nor sign, 
 
 But alone he bent the knee ; 
 And veiled his face for Christ's dear grace 
 
 Beneath the gallows-tree. 
 Tlien radiant and serene he rose, 
 
 And cast his cloak away : 
 For he had ta'en his latest look 
 
 Of earth and sun and day. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 A beam of light fell o'er him, 
 Like a glory round the shriven, 
 
 And he climbed the lofty ladder 
 As it were the path to heaven. 
 
 Then came a flash from out the cloud. 
 And a stunnmg thunder-roll ; 
 
THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE. 53 
 
 And no man dared to look aloft, 
 
 For fear was on every soul. 
 There was another heavy sound, 
 
 A hush and then a groan ; 
 And darkness swept across the sky — 
 
 The work of death was done ! 
 
NOTES TO " THE EXECUTION OF TflONTROSE." 
 
 " A traitor sold Jihn to Ms foes." — P. 42. 
 
 " The contemporary historian of the Earls of Sutherland 
 records, that (after the defeat of Invercarron) Montrose and 
 Kinnoul 'wandered up the river Kyle the "whole ensuing 
 night, and the next day, and the third day also, without any 
 food or sustenance, and at last came within the country of 
 Assynt. The Earl of Kinnoul, being faint for lack of meat, 
 and not able to travel any farther, was left there among the 
 mountains, where it was supposed he perished. Montrose 
 had almost famished, but that he fortuned in his misery to 
 light upon a small cottage in that wilderness, where he was 
 supphed with some milk and bread.' ISTot even the iron 
 frame of Montrose could endure a j^rolonged existence under 
 such circumstances. He gave himself up to Macleod of 
 Assynt, a former adherent, from whom he had reason to 
 expect assistance in consideration of that circumstance, and, 
 indeed, from the dictates of honorable feeling and common 
 humanity. As the Argyle faction had sold the King, so 
 this Highlander rendered his own name infamous by selling 
 the hero to the Covenanters, for which 'duty to the public' 
 be was rewarded with four hundred bolls of meal." — 
 Napier's Life of Montrose. 
 
THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE. 55 
 
 " lliey brought him to the Watergater—V.A:Z. 
 
 ^^ Friday, l^th May. — Act ordaining James Graharae to be 
 brought from the Watergate on a cart, bareheaded, the hang- 
 man in liis livery, covered, riding on tlie horse that draws tlie 
 cart — the prisoner to be bound to the cart with a rope — to the 
 Tolbooth of Edinburgh, and from thence to be brought to the 
 ParUament House, and there, in the place of delinquents, on 
 liis knees, to receive his sentence — viz., to be banged on a gib- 
 bet at tlie cross of Edinburgh, with his book and declaration 
 tied on a rope about his neck, and there to hang for the space 
 of three hours until he be dead ; and thereafter to be cut down 
 by the hangman, his head, hands, and legs to be cut off, and 
 distributed as follows : viz., his head to be affixed on an iron 
 .pin, and set on the pinnacle of the west gavel of the new 
 prison of Edinburgh ; one hand to be set on the port of Perth, 
 the other on the port of Stirling ; one leg and foot on the port 
 of Aberdeen, the other on the port of Glasgow. If, at his 
 death, penitent, and relaxed from excommunication, then the 
 trunk of his body to be interred, by pioneers, in the Greyfiiars: 
 otherwise, to be interred, in the Boroughmuir, by the hang- 
 man's men, under the gallows." — Balfour's Hates of Parlia- 
 ment. 
 
 It is needless to remark that this inhuman sentence was 
 executed to the letter. In order that the exposure might be 
 more complete, the cart was constructed witli a high chair in 
 the centre, having holes behind, through which the ropes that 
 fastened him were drawn. The author of the Wir/ton Papers, 
 recently published by the Maitland Club, says : " The reason 
 
56 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 of bis being tied to tbe cart was in bope tbat tbe people would 
 have stoned him, and tbat be migbt not be able, by bis bands, 
 to save his face." His bat was then pulled off by the hang- 
 man, and the procession commenced. 
 
 *^But when he came, though pale and wan, 
 He looked so great and high" — P. 44. 
 
 " In all the way, there appeared in him such majesty, cour- 
 age, modesty — and even somewhat more than natural — tbat 
 those common women, who bad lost tbeii- husbands and child- 
 ren in his wars, and who were hired to stone him, were, upon 
 the sight of bim, so astonished and moved, that their intended 
 curses turned into tears and prayers ; so that next day ail the 
 ministers preached against them for not stoning and reviling 
 
 him J' — Wigton Papers. 
 
 , '\ 
 
 "Thenjirst a icoman's voice teas heard 
 In jeer and laughter loud." — P. 45. 
 
 " It is remarkable tbat, of tbe many thousand beholders, 
 the Lady Jean Gordon, Countess of Hadington, did (alone) 
 publicly insult and laugh at bim ; which, being perceived by a 
 gentleman in tbe street, be cried up to her, tbat it became her 
 better to,, sit upon the cart for her adulteries." — Wigton Papers. 
 This infamous woman was the third daughter of Huntly, and 
 tbe niece of Argyle. It will hardly be credited that she was 
 tbe sister of tbat gallant Lord Gordon, who fell fighting by 
 the side of Montrose, only five years before, at the battle of 
 Aldford 1 
 
 ti 
 
THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE. 57 
 
 "I^or seven long years thou hast not dared 
 To look him in the face ^ — P. 46. 
 
 " The Lord Lorn and his new lady were also sitting on a 
 balcony, joyful spectators ; and the cart being stopped when it 
 came before the lodging wliere the Chancellor, Argyle, and 
 Warristoun sat — that they might have time to insult — he, sus- 
 pecting the business, turned his face towards them, whereupon 
 they presently crept in at the windows ; which being perceived 
 by an Englishman, he cried up, it was no wonder they started 
 aside at his look, for they durst not look him in the face these 
 seven years bygone." — Wigton Papers. 
 
 " With savage glee came Warristorin 
 To read the murderous doom" — P. 4Y. 
 
 Archibald Johnston of Warristoun. This man, who was the 
 inveterate enemy of Montrose, and who carried the most selfish 
 spirit into every intrigue of his party, received the punislmient 
 of his treasons about eleven years afterwards. It may be in- 
 structive to learn how he met his doom. The following extract 
 is from the MSS. of Sir George Mackenzie : " The Chancellor 
 and others waited to examine him ; he fell upon his face, roar- 
 ing, and with tears entreated they would pity a poor creature 
 who had forgot all that was in the Bible. This moved all the 
 spectators with a deep melancholy ; and tlie Chancellor, re- 
 flecting upon the man's great parts, former esteem, and the 
 great share he had in all the late revolutions, could not deny 
 some tears to the frailty of silly mankind. At his examina- 
 
 3* 
 
58 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIEKS. 
 
 tion, lie pretended lie had lost so much blood by the nnsliil- 
 fulness of his chirurgeons, that he lost his memory with his 
 blood ; and I really believe that his courage had been drawn 
 out with it. Within a few days, he was brought before the 
 parliament, where he discovered nothing but much weakness, 
 running up and down upon his knees, begging mercy ; but the 
 parliament ordained his former sentence to be put to execu- 
 tion, and accordingly he was executed at the Cross of Edin- 
 burgh." 
 
 '^And God tvho made, shall gather them ; 
 I go from you to hhii F' — P. 49. 
 
 " He said he was much beholden to the parliament for the 
 honor they put on him ; * for,' says he, ' I think it a greater 
 honor to have my head standing on the port of this town, for 
 this quarrel, than to have my picture in the king's bed-cham- 
 ber. I am beholden to you that, lest my loyalty should be 
 forgotten, ye have appointed five of your most eminent towns 
 to bear witness of it to posterity.' " — Wigton Paper's. 
 
 "He is coming ! he is coming ! 
 Like a bridegroom from his room^ — P. 50. 
 
 " In his downgoings from the Tolbooth to the place of exc' 
 cution, he was very richly clad in fine scarlet, laid over with 
 rich silver lace, his hat in* his hand, his bands and cuffs 
 exceeding rich, his delicate white gloves on his hands, his 
 stockings of incarnate silk, and his shoes with then- ribbons 
 
THE EXECUTION OF MOXTROSE. 59 
 
 on his feet ; and sarks provided for him with pearling about, 
 above ten pound the eh^e. All these were provided for him 
 by his friends, and a pretty cassock put on upon him, upon 
 the scaffold, wherein he was hanged. To be short, nothing 
 was here deficient to honor his poor carcase, more beseeming 
 a bridegroom than a criminal going to the gallows." — K'ich- 
 oll's Diary. 
 
 "The grim Geneva ministers 
 With anxious scowl drew near." — P. 52. 
 
 The Presbyterian ministers beset Montrose both in prison 
 and on the scaffold. The following extracts are from the 
 diary of the Rev. Robert Traill, one of the persons who were 
 appointed by the commission of the kirk " to deal with him." 
 " By a warrant from the kirk, we staid a while witli him about 
 his soul's condition. But we found him continuing in liis old 
 pride, and taking very ill what was spoken to him, saying, ' I 
 pray you, gentlemen, let me die in peace.' It was answered 
 that he might die in true peace, being reconciled to the Lord 
 and to his kirk." " We returned to tlie commission and did 
 show unto them what had passed amongst us. They, seeing 
 that for the present he was not desiring relaxation from hi:^ 
 censure of excommunication, did appoint Mr. Mungo Law and 
 me to attend on the morrow on the scaffold, at the time of his 
 execution, that, in case he should desire to be relaxed fi-om his 
 excommunication, we should be allowed to give it unto him in 
 the name of the kirk, and to pray with him, and for him, that 
 what is loosed on earth might be loosed hi heavenP But this 
 pious intentioq, which may appear somewhat strange to the 
 
60 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 modern Calvinist, when the prevailing theories of the ku-k re- 
 garding the efficacy of absolution are considered, was not des- 
 tined to be fulfilled. Mr. Traill goes on to say, " But he did 
 not at all desire to be relaxed from his excommunication in 
 the name of the kirk, yea, did not look towards that place on 
 the scaffold where we stood; only he drew apart some of the 
 magistrates, and spake a while with them, and then went up 
 ^le ladder, in his red scarlet cassock, in a veiy stately manner." 
 
 ^^And he climbed the lofty ladder 
 As it v:ere the path to heavenV — P. 52. 
 
 " He was veiy earnest that he might have the liberty to 
 keep on his hat — it was denied : he requested he might have 
 the privilege to keep his cloak about liim — neither could that 
 be granted. Then, with the most undaunted courage, he went 
 up to the top of that prodigious gibbet." " The wliole people 
 gave a general groan ; and it was very observable, that even 
 those who, at his first appearance, had bitterly inveighed 
 against him, could not now abstain from tears." — Montrose 
 Redivivus. 
 
THE HEART 
 
 OF 
 
 THE BRUCE. 
 
 Hector Boece, in his very delightful, though 
 somewhat apocryphal Chronicles of Scotland, tells 
 us, that " quhen Schir James Douglas was chosin 
 as maist worthy of all Scotland to pass with King 
 Robertis hart to the Holy Land, he put it in ane 
 cais of gold, with arromitike and precious unye- 
 mentis ; and tuke with him Schir William Sinclare 
 and Schir Robert Logan, with mony othir nobilmen, 
 to the haly graif ; quhai'e he bury it the said hart, 
 
63 
 
 LAYS OF. THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 witli maist reverence and solempnitie that could be 
 devisit." 
 
 But no contemporary historian bears out the state- 
 ment of the old Canon of Aberdeen. Froissart, 
 Fordun, and Barbour all agree that the devotional 
 pilgrimage of the Good Sir James was not destined 
 to be accomplished, and that the heart of Scotland's 
 greatest king and hero was brought back to the land 
 of his nativity. Mr. Tytler, in few words, has so 
 graphically recounted the leading events of this 
 expedition, that I do not hesitate to adopt his nar- 
 rative : — 
 
 " As soon as the season of the year permitted, 
 Douglas, having the heart of his beloved master un- 
 der his charge, set sail from Scotland, accompanied 
 by a splendid retinue, and anchored off Sluys in 
 Flanders, at this time the great seaport of the 
 Netherlands. His object was to fnid out companions 
 with whom he might travel to Jerusalem ; but he 
 declined landing, and for twelve days received all 
 visitors on board his ship with a state almost kingly. 
 
 " At Sluys he heard that Alonzo, the king of Leon 
 
THE HEART OF THE BRUCE. 63 
 
 and Castile, was carrying on war with Osmyn, the 
 Moorish governor of Granada. The religious mis- 
 sion which he had embraced, and the vows he had 
 taken before leaving Scotland, induced Douglas to 
 consider Alonzo's cause as a holy warfare; and, 
 before proceeding to Jerusalem, he first determined 
 to visit Spain, and to signalize his prowess against 
 the Saracens. But his first field against the Infidels 
 proved fatal to him who, in the long English war, 
 had seen seventy battles. The circumstances of his 
 death were striking and characteristic. In an action 
 hear Theba, on the borders of Andalusia, the ISIoor- 
 ish cavalry were defeated ; and, after their camp had 
 been taken, Douglas, with his companions, engaged 
 too eagerly in the pursuit, and being separated from 
 the main body of the Spanish army, a strong divi- 
 sion of the Moors rallied and surrounded them. The 
 Scottish knight endeavored to cut his way through 
 the Infidels, and in all probability would have 
 succeeded, had he not again turned to rescue Sir 
 William Saint Clair of Roslin, whom he saw in 
 jeopardy. In attempting this, he was inextricably 
 
64 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 involved with tlie enemy. Taking from his neck the 
 casket which contained the heart of Bruce, he cast 
 it before him and exclaimed with aloud voice, ' Now 
 pass onward as thou were wont, and Douglas will 
 follow thee or die !' The action and the sentiment 
 were heroic, and they were the last words and deed 
 of a heroic life, for Douglas fell overpowered by 
 his enemies ; and three of his knights, and many of 
 his companions, were slain along with their master. 
 On the succeeding day, the body and the casket 
 were both found on the field, and by his surviving 
 friends conveyed to Scotland. The heart of Bruce 
 was deposited at Melrose, and the body of the 
 ' Good Sir James' — the name by which he is affec- 
 tionately remembered by his countrymen — was 
 consigned to the cemetery of his fathers in the parish 
 church of Douglas." 
 
 A nobler death on the field of battle is not re- 
 corded in the annals of chivalry. In memory of this 
 expedition, the Douglases have ever since carried 
 the armorial bearings of the Bloody Heart sur- 
 mounted by the Crown ; and a similar distinction 
 
THE HEART OF THE BRUCE. 65 
 
 is borne by another family. Sir Simon of Lee, a 
 distinguished companion of Douglas, was the person 
 on whom, after the fall of his leader, the custody of 
 the heart devolved. Hence the name of Lockhart, 
 and their'effigy, the Heart within a Fetterlock. 
 
THE HEART 
 
 OF 
 
 THE BRUCE. 
 
 I. 
 
 It ^Yas upon an April morn, 
 While yet the frost lay hoar, 
 
 We heard Lord James's bugle-horn 
 Sound by the rocky shore. 
 
 II. 
 
 Then down we went, a hundred knights, 
 
 All in our dark array, 
 And flung our armor in the ships 
 
 That rode w^ithin the bay. 
 
68 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 III. 
 
 We spoke not as the shore grew less, 
 
 But gazed in silence back, 
 Where the long billows swept away 
 
 The foam behind our track. 
 
 IV. 
 
 And aye the purple hues decayed 
 
 Upon the fading hill. 
 And but one heart in all that ship 
 
 Was tranquil, cold, and still. 
 
 V. 
 
 The good Lord Douglas paced the deck, 
 
 And oh, his face was wan ! 
 Unlike the flush it used to wear 
 
 When in the battle-van. — 
 
 VI. 
 
 " Come hither, come hither, my trusty knight, 
 Sir Simon of the Lee ; 
 There is a freit lies near my soul 
 I fain would tell to thee. • 
 
THE HEAI^T OF THE BRUCE. 69 
 
 VII. 
 
 " Thou know'st the words King Robert spoke 
 Upon his dying day : 
 How he bade me take his noble heart 
 And carry it far away ; 
 
 VIII. 
 
 " And lay it in the holy soil 
 Where once the Savior trod, 
 Since he might not bear the blessed Cross, 
 Nor strike one blow for God. 
 
 IX. 
 
 " Last night as in my bed I lay, 
 I dream'd a dreary dream : — 
 Methought I saw a Pilgrim stand 
 In the moonlight's quivering beam. 
 
 X. 
 
 " His robe was of the azure dye. 
 Snow-white his scatter'd hairs, 
 And even such a cross he bore 
 As good Saint Andrew bears. 
 
70 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 XI. 
 
 " ' Why go ye forth, Lord James,' he said, 
 ' With spear and belted brand 1 
 Why do you take its dearest pledge 
 From tliis our Scottish land 1 
 
 XII. 
 
 " ' The sultry breeze of Galilee 
 
 Creeps through its groves of palm, 
 The olives on the Holy Moimt 
 Stand glittering in the calm. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 " ' But 'tis not there that Scotland's heart 
 Shall rest by God's decree, 
 Till the great angel calls the dead 
 To rise from earth and sea ! 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 " ' Lord James of Douglas, mark my rede ! 
 That heart shall pass once more 
 In fiery fight against the foe, 
 As it was wont of yore. . 
 
THE HEART OF THE BRUCE. 71 
 
 XV. 
 
 " ' And it shall pass beneath the Cross, 
 And save King Robert's vow ; 
 But other hands shall bear it back, 
 Not, James of Douglas, thou !' 
 
 XVI. 
 
 " Now, by thy knightly faith, I pray, 
 Sir Simon of the Lee — 
 i'or- truer friend had never man 
 Than thou has been to me — 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " If ne'er upon the Holy Land 
 'Tis mine in life to tread, 
 Bear thou to Scotland's kindly earth 
 The relics of her dead." 
 
 XVIIL 
 
 The tear was in Sir Simon's eye 
 As he wruncf the warrior's hand — 
 " Betide me weal, betide me wo, 
 ril hold by thy command. 
 
72 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 " But if in battle-front, Lord James, 
 'Tis ours once more to ride, 
 Nor force of man, nor craft of fiend, 
 Shall cleave me from thy side I" 
 
 XX. 
 
 And aye we sailed and aye we sailed, 
 
 Across the weary sea, 
 Until one morn the coast of Spain 
 
 Hose grimly on our lee. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 And as we rounded to the port, 
 Beneath the watch-tower's wall. 
 
 We heard the clash of the atabals. 
 And the trumpet's wavering call. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " Why sounds yon Eastern music here 
 So wantonly and long. 
 And whose the crowd of armed men 
 That round yon standard throng !" 
 
THE HEART OF THE BRUCE. 73 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " The Moors have come from Africa 
 To spoil and waste and slay, 
 And i^ing Alonzo of Castile 
 Must fight with them to-day." 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " Now shame it were," cried good Lord James, 
 " Shall never be said of me, 
 That I and mine have turned aside 
 From the Cross in jeopardie ! 
 
 XXV. 
 
 " Have down, have down, my merry men all — 
 Have down unto the plain ; 
 We'll let the Scottish lion loose 
 Within the fields of Spain !" 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 " Now welcome to me, noble lord. 
 
 Thou and thy stalwart power ; 
 
 Dear is the sight of a Christian knight, 
 
 Who comes in such an hour ! 
 4 
 
74 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 ^ XXVil. 
 
 *' Is it for bond or faith you come, 
 Or yet for golden fee 1 
 Or bring ye France's lilies here, 
 Or the flower of Burgundie !" 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 " God greet thee well, thou valiant king, * 
 Tliee and thy belted peers — 
 Sir James of Douglas am I called. 
 And these are Scottish spears. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 " We do not fight for bond or plight, 
 Nor yet for golden fee ; 
 But for the sake of our blessed Lord, 
 Who died upon the tree. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 " We bring our great king Robert's heart 
 Across the weltering wave, 
 To lay it in the holy soil 
 Hard by the Savior's grave. 
 
THE HEART OF THE BRUCE. 75 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 "True pilgrims we, by laud or sea, 
 Where dauger bars the way ; 
 AndJ;herefore are we here, Lord Kiug, 
 To ride with thee tliis day !" 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Tlie Kiug has bent his stately head, 
 And the tears were in his eyne— 
 " God's blessing on thee, noble knight, 
 For this brave thought of thine ! 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 " I know thy name full well, Lord James ; 
 And honored may I be, 
 Tliat those who fought beside the Bruce 
 Should fight this day for me ! 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 " Take thou the leading of the van, 
 And charge the Moors amain ; 
 There is not such a lance as thine 
 In all the host of Spain I" 
 
76 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 The Douglas turned towards us then, 
 Oh but his glance was high ! — 
 " There is not one of all my men 
 But is as bold as I. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 " There is not one of all my knights 
 But bears as true a spear — 
 Then onwards, Scottish gentlemen, 
 And think King Robert's here !" 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 The trumpets blew, the cross-bolts flew, 
 The arrows flashed like flame, 
 
 As spur in side, and spear in rest, 
 Against the foe we came. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 And many a bearded Saracen 
 
 "Went down, both horse and man ; 
 
 For through their ranks we rode like com, 
 So furiously we ran ! 
 
THE HEART OF THE BRUCE. 77 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 But in behind our path they closed, 
 
 Though fain to let us through, 
 For they were forty thousand men, 
 
 And we were wondrous few. 
 
 XL. 
 
 We might not see a lance's length, 
 
 So dense was their array, 
 But the long fell sweep of the Scottish blade 
 
 Still held them hard at bay. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 " Make in ! make in !" Lord Douglas cried — 
 " Make in, my brethren dear ! 
 Sir William of Saint Clair is down ; 
 We may not leave him here !" 
 
 XLII. 
 
 But thicker, thicker grew the swarm. 
 
 And sharper shot the rain, 
 And the horses reared amid the press, 
 
 But they would not charge again. 
 
78 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 " Now Jesii help thee," said Lord James, 
 " Thou kind and true St. Clair ! 
 An' if I may not bring thee off, 
 I'll die beside thee there !" 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Then in his stirrups up he stood, 
 
 So lionlike and bold, 
 And held the precious heart aloft 
 
 All in its case of gold. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 He flung it from him, far ahead. 
 
 And never spake he more. 
 But — " Pass thee first, thou dauntless heart, 
 
 As thou wert wont of yore !" 
 
 XL VI. ^ 
 
 The roar of fight rose fiercer yet. 
 
 And heavier still the stour, 
 Till the spears of Spain came shivering in, 
 
 And swept away the Moor. 
 
 f 
 
I 
 
 THE HEART OF THE BRUCE. 79 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 " Now praised be God, the day is won ! 
 They fly o'er 'flood and fell — 
 Why dost thou draw the rein so hard, 
 Good knight, that fought so well V 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 " Oh, ride ye on. Lord King !" he said, 
 " And leave the dead to me, 
 For I must keep the dreariest watch 
 That ever I shall dree ! 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 " There lies, above hi^ master's heart. 
 The Douglas, stark and grim ; 
 And wo is me I should be here. 
 Not side by side with him J 
 
 L. 
 
 " The world grows cold, my arm is old, 
 And thin my lyart hair. 
 And all that I loved best on earth 
 Is stretched before me there. 
 
80 
 
 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 LI. 
 
 " O Bothwell banks ! that bloom so bright 
 Beneath the sim of May, 
 The heaviest cloud that ever blew 
 Is bound for you this day. ^ 
 
 LII. 
 
 " And Scotland ! thou may'st veil thy head 
 In sorrow and in pain : 
 The sorest stroke upon thy brow 
 Hath fallen this day in Spain ! 
 
 LIII. 
 
 " We'll bear them back unto our ship, 
 We'll bear them o'er the sea. 
 And lay them in the hallowed earth, 
 Within our own countrie. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 " And be thou strong of heart, Lord King, 
 For this I tell thee sure. 
 The sod that di*ank the Douglas' blood 
 Shall never bear the Moor !" 
 
THE HEART OF THE BRUCE. 81 
 
 LV. 
 
 The King he lighted from his horse, 
 
 He flung his brand away, 
 And took the Douglas by the hand. 
 
 So stately as he lay. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 " God give thee rest, thou valiant soul ! 
 That fought so well for Spain ; 
 I'd rather half my land were gone, 
 So thou wert here ao:ain !" 
 
 LVII. 
 
 We bore the good Lord James away. 
 And the priceless heart we bore, 
 
 And heavily we steered our ship 
 Towards the Scottish shore. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 No welcome greeted our return. 
 
 Nor clang of martial tread, 
 
 But all were dumb and hushed as death 
 
 Before the mighty dead. » 
 
 4* 
 
82 
 
 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 We laid our chief in Douglas Kirk, 
 The heart in fair Melrose ; 
 
 And woful men were we that day — 
 God grant their souls repose ! 
 
THE BURIAL-MARCH 
 
 oir 
 
 DUNDEE. 
 
 It is very much to be regretted that no com- 
 petent person has as yet undertaken the task of 
 compilmg a full and authentic biography of Lord 
 Viscount Dundee. His memory has consequently 
 been left at the mercy of misrepresentation and 
 malignity; and the pen of romance has been freely 
 employed to portray as a bloody assassin one of 
 the most accomplished men and gallant soldiers of 
 his age. 
 
 It was the misfortune of Claverhouse to have 
 
84 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 lived in so troublous an age and country. The 
 religious differences of Scotland were then at their 
 greatest height, and there is hardly any act of atro- 
 city and rebellion which had not been committed 
 by the insurgents. The royal authority was openly 
 and publicly disowned in the western districts : 
 the Archbishop of St. Andrews, after more than one 
 hairbreadth escape, was waylaid and barbarously 
 murdered by an armed gang of fanatics on Magus * 
 Muir ; and his daughter was wounded and mal- 
 treated while interceding for the old man's life. The 
 country was infested by banditti, who took every 
 possible opportunity of shooting down and mas- 
 sacring any of the straggling soldiery ; the clergy 
 were attacked and driven from their houses; so 
 that, throughout a considerable portion of Scotland, 
 there was no security either for property or for life. 
 It is now the fashion to praise and magnify the 
 Covenanters as the most innocent and persecuted of 
 men ; but those who are so ready with their sym- 
 pathy rarely take the pains to satisfy themselves, 
 by reference to the annals of the time, of the true 
 
THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. 85 
 
 character of those men whom they blindly venerate 
 as martyrs. They forget, in their zeal for religious 
 freedom, that even the purest and holiest of causes 
 may be sullied and disgraced by the deeds of its 
 upholders, and that a wild and frantic profession of 
 faith is not always a test of genuine piety. It is 
 not in the slightest degree necessary to discuss 
 whether the royal prerogative was at that time 
 arbitrarily used, or whether the religious freedom 
 of the nation was unduly curtailed. Both points 
 may be, and indeed are, admitted — for it is impos- 
 sible altogether to vindicate the policy of the 
 measures adopted by the two last monarchs of the 
 house of Stuart ; but neither admission will clear 
 the Covenanters from the stain of deliberate cruelty. 
 After the battle of Philiphaugh, the royalist 
 prisoners were butchered in cold blood, under the 
 superintendence of a clerical emissary, who stood 
 by rubbing his hands, and exclaiming — " The wark 
 gangs bonnily on!" Were I to transcribe, from 
 the pamphlets before me, the list of the murders 
 which were perpetrated by the country people on 
 
86 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 the soldiery, officers, and gentlemen of loyal prin- 
 ciples, during the reign of Charles II., I believe that 
 no candid person would be surprised at the severe 
 retaliation which was made. It must be remem- 
 bered that the country was then under military 
 law, and that the strictest orders had been issued 
 by the Government to the officers in command of 
 the troops, to use every means in their power for 
 the effectual repression of the disturbances. The 
 necessity of such orders will become apparent, 
 when we reflect that, besides the open actions at 
 Aird's Moss and Drumcldg, the city of Glasgow 
 was attacked and the royal forces compelled for a 
 time to fall back upon Stirling. 
 
 Under such circumstances, it is no wonder if the 
 soldiery were severe in their reprisals. Innocent 
 blood may no doubt have been shed, and in some 
 cases even wantonly ; for when rebellion has grown 
 into civil war, and the ordinary course of the law is 
 put in abeyance, it is always impossible to restrain 
 military license. But it is most unfair to lay the 
 whole odium of such acts upon those who were in 
 
THE BURIAL-MARCII OF DUNDEE. 87 
 
 command, and to dishonor the fair name of gentle- 
 men, by attributing to tliem personally the com- 
 mission of deeds of ^yIlich they were absolutely 
 ignorant. To this day the peasantry of the western 
 districts of Scotland entertain the idea that Claver- 
 house was a sort of fiend in human shape, tall, 
 muscular, and hideous in aspect, secured by 
 infernal spells from the chance of perishmg by 
 any ordinary weapon, and mounted on a huge 
 black horse, the especial gift of Beelzebub ! On 
 this charger it is supposed that he could ride up 
 precipices as easily as he could traverse the level 
 ground — that he was constantly accompanied by 
 a body of desperadoes, vulgarly known by such 
 euphonious titles as " Hell's Tam," and " the De'il's 
 Jock," and that his whole time was occui^ied, day 
 and night, in hunting Covenanters upon the hills ! 
 Almost every rebel who was taken in arms and 
 shot, is supposed to have met his death from the 
 individual pistol of Claverhouse; and the tales 
 which, from time to time, have been written by 
 such ingenious persons as the late Mr. Gait and the 
 
88 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Ettrick Shepherd, have quietly l3een assumed as 
 facts, and added to the store of our traditionary 
 knowledge. It is in vain to hint that the chief 
 commanders of the forces in Scotland could have 
 found little leisure, even had they possessed the 
 taste, for pursuing single insurgents. Such sugges- 
 tions are an insult to martyrology; and many 
 a parish of the west would be indignant were it 
 averred that the tenant of its gray stone had suf- 
 fered by a meaner hand. 
 
 When we look at the portrait of Claverhouse, 
 and survey the calm, melancholy and beautiful 
 features of the devoted soldier, it appears almost 
 incredible that he should ever have suffered under 
 such an overwdielming load of misrepresentation. 
 But wdien — discarding modern historians, who in 
 too many instances do not seem to entertain the 
 slightest scruple in dealing with the memory of 
 the dead* — we turn to the writings of his con- 
 temporaries who knew the man, his character 
 appears in a very different light. They describe 
 * Vide Appendix. 
 
THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. 89 
 
 him as one who was stainless in his honor, pure in 
 his faith, wise in council, resolute in action, and 
 utterly free from that selfishness which disgraced 
 many of the Scottish statesmen of the time. No 
 one dares question his loyalty, for he sealed that 
 confession with his blood ; and it is universally 
 admitted, that with him fell the last hopes of the 
 reinstatement of the house of Stuart. 
 
 I may perhaps be permitted here, in the absence 
 of a better chronicler, to mention a few particulars 
 of his life, which, I believe, are comparatively un- 
 known. John Grahame of Claverhouse was a cadet 
 of the family of Fintrie, connected by intermarriage 
 with the blood-royal of Scotland. After completing 
 his studies at the University of St. Andrews, he en- 
 tered, as was the national custom for gentlemen of 
 good birth and limited means, into foreign service ; 
 served some time in France as a volunteer, and 
 afterwards went to Holland. He very soon received 
 a commission, as a cornet in a regiment of horse- 
 guards, from the Prmce of Orange, nephew of 
 Charles II. and James VIL, and who afterwards 
 
90 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 married the Princess Mary. His manner at that 
 time is thus described : — " He was then an esquire, 
 under the title of John Grahame of Claverhouse ; 
 but the vivacity of his parts, and the delicacy and 
 justice of his understanding and judgment, joined 
 with a certain vigor of mind and activity of body, 
 distinguished him in such a manner from all others 
 of his rank, that though he lived in a suj)erior cha- 
 racter, yet he acquired the love and esteem of all 
 his equals, as well as of those who had the advan- 
 tage of him in dignity and estate." 
 
 By one of those singular accidents which we 
 occasionally meet with in history, Grahame, after- 
 wards destined to become his most formidable 
 opponent, saved the life of the Prince of Orange 
 at the battle of St. Neff. The Prince's horse had 
 been killed, and he himself was in the grasp of 
 the enemy, when the young cornet rode to his 
 rescue, freed him from his assailants, and mounted 
 him on his own steed. For this service he received 
 a captain's commission, and the promise of the first 
 regiment that should fall vacant. 
 
THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. 91 
 
 But, even in early life, William of Orange . was 
 not famous for keeping his promises. Some years 
 afterwards, a vacancy in one of the Scottish regi- 
 ments in the Prince's service occurred, and Claver- 
 house, relying upon the previous assurance, pre- 
 ferred his claim. It was disregarded, and Mr. Col- 
 lier, afterwards Earl of Portmore, was appointed 
 over his head. It would seem that Grahame had 
 suspected some foul play on the part of this gentle- 
 man, for, shortly after, they accidentally met and 
 had an angry altercation. This circumstance having 
 come to the ears of the Prince, he sent for Captain 
 Grahame, and administered a sharp rebuke. I give 
 the remainder of this incident in the words of the 
 old writer, because it must be considered a very 
 remarkable one, as illustrating the fiery spirit and 
 dauntless independence of Claverhouse. 
 
 "The Captain answered, that he was indeed in 
 the wrong, since it was more his Highness's busi- 
 ness to have resented that quarrel than his; be- 
 cause Mr. Collier had less injured him in disap- 
 pointing him of the regiment, than he had done 
 
92 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 his Hignness in makino; him break his word. 
 ' Then,' replied the Prince in an angry tone, ' I 
 make you full reparation ; for I bestow on you 
 what is more valuable than a regiment when I give 
 you your right arm !' The Captain subjoined, that 
 since his Highness had the goodness to give him 1 
 his liberty, he resolved to employ himself else- 
 where, for he would not longer serve a Prince that • 
 had broken his word. 
 
 " The Captain, having thus thrown up his com- 
 mission, was preparing in haste for his voyage, 
 when a messenger arrived from the Prince, with 
 two hundred guineas for the horse on which he had 
 saved his life. The Captain sent the horse, but he 
 ordered the gold to be distributed among the 
 grooms of the Prince's stables. It is said, however, 
 that his Highness had the generosity to write to 
 the King and the Duke, recommending him as a 
 fine gentleman and a brave officer, fit for any office, 
 civil or military."* 
 
 * Memoirs of the Lord Viscount of Dxmdee. London : 
 1714. 
 
THE BURIAL- MARCH OF DUNDEE. 93 
 
 On his arrival in Britain he was well received by 
 the court, and immediately appointed to a high mi- 
 litary command in Scotland. It would be beyond 
 the scope of the present paper to enter minutely 
 into the details of his service during the stormy 
 period when Scotland was certainly misgoverned, 
 and when there was little unity, but much disorder 
 in the land. In whatever point of view we regard 
 the history of those times, the aspect is a mournful 
 one indeed. Church and State never was a popular 
 cry in Scotland ; and the peculiar religious tenden- 
 cies which had been exhibited by a large portion 
 of the nation, at the time of the Reformation, 
 rendered the return of tranquility hopeless, until 
 the hierarchy was displaced, and a humbler form 
 of church government, more suited to the feelings 
 of the people, substituted in its stead. 
 
 Three years after the accession of James VII., 
 Claverhouse was raised to the peerage, by the title 
 of Lord Viscount of Dundee. He was major- 
 general and second in command of the royal 
 forces, when the Prmce of Orange landed ; and he 
 
94 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 earnestly entreated King James to be allowed to 
 inarch against him, offering to stake his head on 
 the successful result of the enterprise. There can 
 be little doubt, from the great popularity of Lord k \ 
 Dundee with the army, that, had such consent been 
 given, William would have found more than a 
 match in his old officer ; but the King seemed ab- 
 solutely infatuated, and refused to allow a drop of 
 blood to be shed in his quarrel, though the great 
 bulk of the population of England were clearly 
 and enthusiastically in his favor. One of the most 
 gifted of our modern poets, the Honorable George 
 Sydney Smith, has beautifully illustrated this event. 
 
 *' Then out spake gallant Claverliouse, and his soul thrilled 
 
 wild and high, 
 And he showed the King his suhjects, and he prayed him. 
 
 not to fly. 
 Oh never yet was captain so dauntless as Dundee — 
 He has sworn to chase the Hollander back to his 
 
 Zuyder-Zee !" 
 
 But though James quitted his kingdom, the 
 stern loyalty of Dundee was nothing moved. 
 Alone and without escort he traversed England, 
 
THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. 95 
 
 and presented himself at the Convention of 
 Estates then assembled at Edinburgh for the 
 purpose of receiving the message from the Prince 
 of Orange. The meeting was a very strange one. 
 Many of the nobility and former members of the 
 Scottish Parliament absolutely declined attending 
 it, — some on the ground that it was not a legal 
 assembly, having been summoned by the Prince 
 of Orange ; and others because, in such a total 
 disruption of order, they judged it safest to abstain 
 from taking any prominent part. This gave an 
 immense ascendency to the Revolution party, 
 who further proceeded to strengthen their position 
 by inviting to Edinburgh large bodies of the armed 
 population of the west. After defending for several 
 days the cause of his master, with as much elo- 
 quence as vigor, Dundee, finding that the majority 
 of the Convention were resolved to offer the crown 
 of Scotland to the Prince, and having moreover 
 received sure information that some of the wild 
 fanatic Whigs, with Daniel Ker of Kersland at their 
 head, had formed a plot for his assassination, quitted 
 
96 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Edinburgh witl/ about fifty horsemen, and, after a 
 short interview — celebrated by Sir "Walter Scott in 
 one of his grandest ballads — with the Duke of Gor- 
 don at the Castle rock, directed his steps towards 
 the north. After a short stay at his house of Dud- 
 dope, during which he received, by order of the 
 Council, who were thoroughly alarmed at his 
 absence, a summons through a Lyon-herald to return 
 to Edinburgh under the pain of high treason, he 
 passed into the Gordon country, where he was joined 
 by the Earl of Dunfermline with a small party of 
 about sixty horse. His retreat was timeous, for 
 General Mackay, who commanded for the Prince of 
 Orange, had despatched a strong force, with instruc- 
 tions to make him prisoner. Erom this time, until 
 the day of his death, he allowed himself no repose. 
 Imitating the example, and inheriting the enthusiasm 
 of his great predecessor Montrose, he invoked the 
 loyalty of the clans to assist him in the struggle for 
 legitimacy, — and he did not appeal to them in vain. 
 His name was a spell to rouse the ardent spirits of 
 the mountaineers -, and not the Great Marquis him- 
 
THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. 97 
 
 self, in the height of his renown, was more sincerely 
 welcomed and more fondly loved than "Ian dhu 
 nan Cath," — Dark John of the Battles, — the name 
 by wliicli Lord Dundee is still remembered in 
 Highland song. In the mean time the Convention, 
 terrified at their danger, and dreading a Highland 
 inroad, had despatched Mackay, a military officer of 
 great experience, with a considerable body of troops, 
 to quell the threatened insurrection. He was en- 
 countered by Dundee, and compelled to evacuate 
 the high country and fall back upon the Lowlands, 
 where he subsequently received reinforcements, and 
 again marched northward. Tlie Highland host was 
 assembled at Blair, though not in great farce, when 
 the news of Mackay's advance arrived ; and a coun- 
 cil of the chiefs and officers was summoned, to 
 determine whether it would be most advisable to 
 fall back upon the glens and wild fastnesses of the 
 Highlands, or to meet the enemy at once, though 
 with a far inferior force. 
 
 Most of the old officers, who had been trained in 
 the foreign wars, were of the former opinion — 
 
98 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 "alleging that it was neither prudent nor canti( 
 risk an engagement against an army of disciplined 
 men, that exceeded theirs in number by more than 
 a half." But both Glengarry and Locheill, to the 
 great satisfaction of the general, maintained the 
 contrary view, and argued that neither hunger nor 
 fatigue were so likely to depress the Highlanders as 
 a retreat when the enemy was in view. The account 
 of the discussion is so interesting, and so characteris- 
 tic of Dundee, that I shall take leave to quote its ter- 
 mination in the words of Drummond of Balhaldy : — 
 " An advice so hard}- and resolute could not miss 
 to please the generous Dundee. His looks seemed 
 to heighten with an air of delii>;ht and satisfaction 
 all the while Locheill was speaking. He told his 
 council that they had heard his sentiments from the 
 mouth of a person who had formed his judgment 
 upon infallible proofs drawn from a long experience, 
 and an intimate acquaintance with the persons and 
 subject he spoke of. Not one in the company 
 offering to contradict their general, it was unani- 
 mously agreed to fight. 
 
THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DL'NDEE. 99 
 
 "When the news of this vigorous resolution 
 spread through the army, nothing was heard but 
 acclamations of joy, which exceedingly pleased their 
 gallant general ; but before the council broke up, 
 Locheill begged to be heard for a few words. ' My 
 Lord,' said he, ' I have just now declared, in presence 
 of this honorable company, that I was resolved to 
 give an implicit obedience to all your Lordship's 
 commands ; but I humbly beg leave, in name of 
 these gentlemen, to give the word of command for 
 this one time. It is the voice of your council, and 
 their orders are that you do not engage personally. 
 Your Lordship's business is to have an eye on all 
 parts, and to issue out your commands as you shall 
 think proper ; it is ours to execute them with promp- 
 titude and courage. On your Lordship depends the 
 fate, not only of this little brave army, but also of 
 our king and country. If your Lordship deny us 
 this reasonable demand, for my own part I declare, 
 that neither I, nor any I am concerned in, shall 
 draw a sword on this important occasion, whatever 
 construction shall be put upon the matter.' 
 
 LrfC. 
 
loo LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 " Locheill was seconded in this by the whole 
 council ; but Dundee begged leave to be heard in 
 his turn. ' Gentlemen,' said he, ' as I am abso- 
 lutely convinced, and have had repeated proofs, of 
 your zeal for the King's service, and of your affec- 
 tion to me as his general and your friend, so I am 
 fully sensible that my engaging personally this day 
 may be of some loss if I shall chance to be killed. 
 But I beg leave of you, however, to allow me to 
 give one shear darg (that is, one harvest-day's 
 worlv) to the King, my master, that I may have an 
 opportunity of convincing the brave clans that I 
 can hazard my life in that service as freely as the 
 meanest of them. Ye know their temper, gentle- 
 men ; and if they do not think I have jDersonal 
 courage enough, they will not esteem me hereafter, 
 nor obey my commands with cheerfulness. Allow 
 me this single favor, and I here promise, upon my 
 honor, never again to risk my person while I have 
 that of commanding you.' 
 
 "The council, finding him inflexible, broke up, 
 
 I 
 
THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. 101 
 
 and the army marched directly towards the Pass of 
 Killiecrankie." 
 
 Those who have visited that romantic spot need 
 not be reminded of its peculiar features, for these, 
 once seen, must dwell for ever in the memory. 
 The lower part of the Pass is a stupendous moun- 
 tain-chasm, scooped out by the waters of the 
 Garry, which here descend in a succession of roaring 
 cataracts and pools. The old road, which ran 
 almost parallel to the river and close upon its edge, 
 was extremely narrow, and wound its way beneath 
 a wall of enormous crags, surmounted by a natural 
 forest of birch, oak, and pine. An army cooped 
 up in that gloomy ravine would have as little 
 chance of escape from the onset of an enterprising 
 partisan corps, as had the Bavarian troops when 
 attacked by the Tyrolese in the steep defiles of the 
 Inn. General Mackay, however, had made his 
 arrangements with consummate tact and skill, and 
 had calculated his time so well, that he was enabled 
 to clear the Pass before the Highlanders could reach 
 it from the other side. Advancing"^ upwards, the 
 
102 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 passage becomes gradually broader, until, just 
 below the House of Urrard, there is a considerable 
 ■width of meadow-land. It was here that Mackay 
 took up his position, and arrayed his troops, on ob- 
 serving that the heights above were occupied by the 
 army of Dundee. 
 
 The forces of the latter scarcely amounted to 
 
 one-third of those of his antagonist, which were 
 drawn up in line without any reserve. He was 
 therefore compelled, in making his dispositions, to 
 leave considerable gaps in his own line, which gave 
 Mackay a farther advantage. Tlie right of Dun- 
 dee's army was formed of the M'Lean, Glengarry, 
 and Clanranald regiments, along with some Irish 
 levies. In the centre was Dundee himself, at the 
 head of a small and ill-equipped body of cavalry, 
 composed of Lowland gentlemen and their fol- 
 lowers, and about forty of his old troopers. The 
 Camerons and Skyemen, under the command of 
 Locheill and Sir Donald Macdonald of Sleat, were 
 stationed on the left. During the time occu- 
 pied by these dispositions, a brisk cannonade was 
 
THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. lOS 
 
 opened by Mackay's artillery, which materially 
 increased the impatience of the Highlanders to 
 come to close quarters. At last the word was 
 given to advance, and the whole line rushed for- 
 ward with the terrific impetuosity peculiar to a 
 charge of the clans. They received the fire of the 
 regular troops without flinching, reserved their 
 own until they were close at hand, poured in a 
 murderous vollev, and then, throwinij awav their 
 firelocks, attacked the enemy with the broadsword. 
 The victory was almost instantaneous, but it 
 was bought at a terrible price. Through some mis- 
 take or misunderstanding, a portion of the cavalry, 
 instead of following their general, who had charged 
 directly for the guns, executed a manoeuvre which 
 threw them into disorder ; and when last seen in 
 the battle, Dundee, accompanied only by the Earl 
 of Dunfermline and about sixteen gentlemen, was 
 entering into the cloud of smoke, standing up in 
 his stirrups, and waving to the others to come on. 
 It was in this attitude that he appears to have 
 received his death-wound. On returning from the 
 
104 LAYS OF TPIE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 pursuit, the Highlraiders found him dying on the 
 field. 
 
 It would be difficult to point out another instance 
 in which the maintenance of a great cause depend- 
 ed solely upon the life of a single man. Whilst 
 Dundee survived, Scotland at least was not lost to 
 the Stuarts, for, shortly before the battle, he had m 
 received assurance that the greater part of the 
 organised troops in the north were devoted to his 
 person, and ready to join him; and the victory 
 of Killiecrankie would have been followed by a 
 general rising of the royal gentlemen in the 
 Lowlands. But with his fall the enterprise was 
 over. 
 
 I hope I shall not be accused of exaggerating the 
 importance of this battle, which, according to the 
 writer I have already quoted, was best proved by 
 the consternation into which the opposite party were 
 thrown at the first news of Mackay's defeat. " The 
 Duke of Hamilton, commissioner for the parliament 
 which then sat at Edinburgh, and the rest of the 
 ministr}^, were struck with such a. panic, that some 
 
THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. 105 
 
 of tliem Avere for retiring to England, others into 
 the western shires of Scotland, where all the peo- 
 ple, almost to a man, befriended them ; nor knew 
 they whether to abandon the government, or to 
 stay a few days until they saw what use my Lord 
 Dundee would make of his victory. They knew 
 the rapidity of his motions, and were convinced 
 that he would allow them no time to deliberate. 
 On this account it was debated, whether such of the 
 nobility and gentry as were confined for adhering 
 to their old master, should be immediately set at 
 liberty or more closely shut up ; and though the 
 last was determined on, yet the greatest revolu- 
 tionists among them made private and frequent 
 visits to these prisoners, excusing what was past, 
 from a fatal necessity of the times, which obliged 
 them to give a seeming compliance, but protesting 
 that they always wished well to King James, as 
 they should soon have occasion to show when my 
 Lord Dundee advanced." 
 
 " The next morning after the battle," says 
 
 Drummond " the Highland army had more the 
 
 5* 
 
106 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 air of the shattered remains of broken troops than 
 of conquerors ; for here it was literally true that 
 
 " The vanquished triumphed, and the victors mourned.' 
 
 The death of their brave general, and the loss of 
 so many of their friends, were inexhaustible foun- 
 tains of grief and sorrow. They closed the last 
 scene of this mournful tragedy in obsequies of their 
 lamented general, and of the other gentlemen who 
 fell with him, and entered them in the church of 
 Blair of Atholl with a real funeral solemnity, there 
 not being present one single j)crson who did not 
 participate in the general affliction." 
 
 I close this notice of a great soldier and devoted 
 loyalist, by transcribing the beautiful epitaph com- 
 posed by Dr. Pitcairn : — 
 
 "Ultime Scotorum ! potuit, quo sospite solo, 
 
 Libertas patriae salva fiiisse tuse : 
 Te moriente, novos accepit Scotia cives, 
 
 Accepitque novos, te moriente, deos. 
 Ilia nequit superesse tibi, tu non potis illi, 
 
 Ergo, Caledonian nomen inane, vale ! 
 Tuque vale, gentis priscse fortissime ductor, 
 
 Ultime Scotorum, ac ultime Grame, vale !" 
 
THE BURIAL-MARCH 
 
 OK 
 
 DUNDEE. 
 
 I. 
 
 Sound the fife, and cry the slogan — 
 
 ■ Let the pibroch shake the air 
 With its wild triumphal music, 
 
 Worthy of the freight we bear. 
 Let the ancient hills of Scotland 
 
 Hear once more the battle- song 
 Swell within their glens and valleys 
 
 As the clansmen march along ! 
 
108 
 
 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Never from the field of combat, 
 
 Never fi'om the deadly fray, 
 Was a nobler troj)hy carried 
 
 Than we bring with us to-day ; 
 Never since the valiant Douglas 
 
 On his dauntless bosom bore 
 Good King Eobert's heart — the'priceless- 
 
 To our dear Redeemer's shore ! 
 Lo ! we bring with us the hero — 
 
 Lo ! we bring the conquering Grteme, 
 Crowned as best beseems a victor 
 
 From the altar of his fame ; 
 Fresh and bleeding from the battle 
 
 Whence his spirit took its flight, 
 Midst the crashing charge of squadrons, 
 
 And the thunder of the fight ! 
 Strike, I say, the notes of triumph. 
 
 As we march o'er moor and lea ! 
 Is there any here will venture 
 
 To bewail our dead Dundee 1 
 Let the widows of the traitors 
 
 Weep until their eves are dim ! 
 
THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. 109 
 
 Wail ye may full well for Scotland — . 
 
 Let none dare to mourn for him ! 
 See ! above his glorious body 
 
 Lies the royal banner's fold — 
 See ! his valiant blood is mingled 
 
 With its crimson and its gold. 
 See how calm he looks and stately, 
 
 Like a warrior on., his shield, 
 Waiting till the flush of morning 
 
 Breaks along the battle-field ! 
 See — Oh never more, my comrades, 
 
 Shall we see that falcon eye 
 Redden with its inward lightning. 
 
 As the hour of fight drew nigh ! 
 Never shall we hear the voice that, 
 
 Clearer than the trumpet's call, 
 ^Bade us strike for King and Country, 
 
 Bade us win the field, or fall ! 
 
 II. 
 
 On the heights of Killiecrankie 
 Yester-morn our army lay : 
 
110 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Slowly rose the mist in columns 
 
 From the river's broken way ; 
 Hoarsely roared the swollen torrent, 
 
 And the Pass was wrapped in gloom, 
 When the clansmen rose together 
 
 From their lair amidst the broom. 
 Then we belted on our tartans, 
 
 And our bonnets down we drew, 
 And we felt our broadswords' edges. 
 
 And we proved them to be true ; 
 And we prayed the prayer of soldiers. 
 
 And we cried the gathering-cry. 
 And we clasped the hands of kinsmen, 
 
 And we swore to do or die ! 
 Then our leader rode before us 
 
 On his war-horse black as night — 
 Well the Cameronian rebels 
 
 Knew that charger in the fight ! — 
 And a cry of exultation 
 
 From the bearded warriors rpse ; , 
 For we loved the house of Claver'se, 
 
 And we thought of good Montrose. 
 
THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. Ill 
 
 But he raised his hand for silence — 
 
 " Soldiers ! I have sworn a vow : 
 Ere the evening star shall glisten 
 
 On Schehallion's lofty brow, 
 Either we shall rest in triumph, 
 
 Or another of the Graemes 
 Shall have died in battle-harness 
 
 For his Country and King James ! 
 Think upon the Royal Martyr — 
 
 Think of what his race endure — 
 Think on him whom butchers murder'd 
 
 On the field of Magus Muir : — 
 By his sacred blood I charge ye, 
 
 By the ruined hearth and shrine — 
 By the blighted hopes of Scotland, 
 
 By your injuries and mine — 
 Strike this day as if the anvil 
 
 Lay beneath your blows the while, 
 Be they Covenanting traitors, 
 
 Or the brood of false Argyle ! 
 Strike ! and drive the trembling rebels 
 
 Backwards o'er the stormy Forth ; 
 
112 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Let them tell their pale Convention- 
 How they fared within the North. 
 
 Let them tell that Highland honor 
 Is not to be bought nor sold, 
 
 That we scorn their prince's anger 
 As we loathe his foreign gold. 
 
 Strike ! and when the fight is over; 
 If you look in vain for me, 
 
 Where the dead are lying thickest 
 Search for him that was Dundee !" 
 
 III. 
 
 Loudly then the hills re-echoed 
 
 With our answer to his call. 
 But a deeper echo sounded 
 
 In the bosoms of us all. 
 For the lands of wide Breadalbane, 
 
 Not a man who heard him speak 
 Would that day have left the battle. 
 
 Burning eye and flushing cheek 
 Told the clansmen's fierce emotion, 
 
 And they harder drew their breath ; 
 
THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. 113 
 
 Eor their souls were strong within them, 
 
 Stronger than the grasp of death. 
 Soon we heard a challenge-trumpet 
 
 Sounding in the Pass below, 
 And the distant tramp of horses, 
 
 And the voices of the foe ; 
 Down we crouched amid the bracken, 
 
 Till the Lowland ranks drew near. 
 Panting like the hounds in summer, 
 
 When they scent the stately deer. 
 From the dark defile emerging. 
 
 Next we saw the squadrons come, 
 Leslie's foot and Leven's troopers 
 
 Marching to the tuck of drum ; 
 Through the scattered wood of birches, 
 
 O'er the broken ground and heath, 
 Wound the long battalion slowly. 
 
 Till they gained the field beneath ; 
 Then we bounded from our covert. — 
 
 Judge how looked the Saxons then. 
 When they saw the rugged mountain 
 
 Start to life with armed men ! 
 
114 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Like a tempest down t\{e ridges 
 
 Swept the hurricane of steel, 
 Rose the slogan of Macdonald — 
 
 Flashed the broadsword of Locheill ! 
 Vainly sped the withering volley 
 
 'Mongst the foremost of our band — 
 On we poured until we met them, 
 
 Foot to foot, and hand to hand. 
 Horse and man went down like drift-wood 
 
 When the floods are black at Yule, 
 And their carcasses are whirling 
 
 In the Garry's deepest pool. 
 Horse and man went down before us — 
 
 Livinir foe there tarried none 
 On the field of Killiecrankie, 
 
 When that stubborn fight was done ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 And the evening star was shining 
 On Schehallion's distant head, 
 
 When we wiped our bloody broadswords, 
 And returned to count the dead. 
 
THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. - 115 
 
 There we found him gashed and goiy, 
 
 Stretched upon the cumbered plain, 
 As he told us where to seek liim, 
 
 In4he thickest of the slain. 
 And a smile was on his visage, 
 
 For within his dying ear 
 Pealed the joyful note of triumph, 
 
 And the clansmen's clamorous cheer : 
 So, amidst the battle's thunder, 
 
 Shot, and steel, and scorching flame. 
 In the glory of liis manhood 
 
 Passed the spirit of the Gramme ! 
 
 V. 
 
 Open wide the vaults of Athol, 
 
 Where the bones of heroes rest — 
 Open wide the hallowed portals 
 
 To receive another guest ! 
 Last of Scots, and last of freem^en — 
 
 Last of all that dauntless race 
 Who would rather die unsullied 
 
 Than outlive the land's disgrace ! 
 
116 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 O thou lion-hearted warrior ! 
 
 Reck not of the after-time : 
 Honor may be deemed dishonor, 
 
 Loyalty be called a crime. 
 Sleep in peace with kindred ashes 
 
 Of the noble and the true, 
 Hands that never failed their country. 
 
 Hearts that never baseness knew. 
 Sleep !— -and till the latest trumpet 
 
 AYakes the dead from earth and sea, 
 Scotland shall not boast a braver 
 
 Chieftain than our own Dundee ! 
 
THE WIDOW 
 
 OB' 
 
 GLENCOE. 
 
 The Massacre of Glencoe is an event which 
 neither can nor ought to be forgotten. It was a 
 deed of the worst treason and cruelty — a barbarous 
 infraction of all laws, human and divine ; and it 
 exhibits in their foulest perfidy the true characters 
 of the authors and abettors of the Revolution. 
 
 After the battle of Killiecrankie the cause of the 
 Scottish royalists declined, rather from the want of 
 a competent leader than from any disinclination on 
 
118 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 the part of a large section of the nobility and gentry 
 to vindicate the right of King James. No person 
 of adequate talents or authority was found to supply 
 the place of the great and gallant Lord Dundee : 
 for General Cannon, who succeeded in command, 
 was not only deficient in military skill, but did not 
 possess the confidence, nor understand the character 
 of the Highland chiefs, who, with their clansmen, 
 constituted by far the most important section of 
 the army. Accordingly no enterprise of any impor- 
 tance was attempted ; and the disastrous issue of 
 the battle of the Boyne led to a negotiation which 
 terminated in the entire disbanding of the royal 
 forces. By this treaty, which was expressly sanc- 
 tioned by William of Orange, a full and unreserved 
 indemnity and pardon was granted to all of the 
 Highlanders who had taken arms, with a proviso 
 that they should first subscribe the oath of allegiance 
 to William and Mary, before the 1st of January, 
 1692, in presence of the Lords of the Scottish 
 Council, " or of the Sheriffs or their deputies of the 
 respective shires wherein they lived." The letter of 
 
 / 
 
THE WIDOW OF GLENCOE. 119 
 
 William addressed to the Privy Council, and order- 
 ing proclamation to be made to the above effect, 
 contained also the following significant passage : — 
 " That y£, communicate our pleasure to the Gover- 
 nor of Inverlochy, and other commanders, that 
 they be exact and diligent in their several posts ; 
 but that they show no more zeal against the High- 
 landers after their submission, than they have ever 
 done formerly when these were in open rehellionP 
 
 This enigmatical sentence, which m reality was 
 intended, as the sequel will show, to be interpreted 
 in the most cruel manner, appears to have caused 
 some perplexity in the Council, as that body deemed 
 it necessary to apply for more distinct and specific 
 instructions, which, however, were not then issued. 
 It had been especially stipulated by the chiefs, as an 
 indispensable preliminary to their treaty, that they 
 should have leave to communicate with King James, 
 then residing at St. Germains, for the purpose of 
 obtaining his permission and warrant previous to 
 submitting themselves to the existing government. 
 That article had been sanctioned by William before 
 
120 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 the proclamation was issued, and a special messen- 
 ger was dispatched to France for that purpose. 
 
 In the mean time, troops w^ere gradually and cau- 
 tiously advanced to the confines of the Highlands, 
 and, in some instances, actually quartered on the 
 inhabitants. The condition of the country was per- 
 fectly tranquil. No disturbances whatever occurred 
 in the north or west of Scotland ; Locheill and the 
 other chiefs were awaiting the communication from 
 St. Germains, and held themselves bound in honor 
 to remain inactive ; whilst the remainder of the 
 royalist forces (for whom separate terms had been 
 made) were left unmolested at Dunkeld. 
 
 But rumors, which are too clearly traceable to 
 the emissaries of the new government, asserting the 
 preparation made for an immediate landing of King 
 James at the head of a large body of the French, 
 were industriously circulated, and by many were 
 implicitly believed. The infamous policy which 
 dictated such a course is now apparent. The term 
 of the amnesty or truce granted by the proclamation 
 expired with the year 1691, and all who had not 
 
THE WIDOW OF GLENCOE. 121 
 
 taken the oath of allegiance before that term, were 
 to be proceeded against with the utmost severity. 
 The proclamation was issued upon the 29th of Au- 
 gust : consequently only four months were allowed 
 for the complete submission of the Highlands. 
 
 Not one of the chiefs subscribed until the man- 
 date from King James arrived. Tliat, document, 
 which is dated from St. Germains on the 12th of 
 December, 1691, reached Dunk elk eleven days af- 
 terwardsj and, consequently, but a very short time 
 before the indemnity expired. The bearer. Major 
 Menzies, was so fatigued that he could proceed no 
 flirther on his journey, but forwarded the mandate 
 by an express to the commander of the royal 
 forces, who was then at Glengarry. It was there- 
 fore impossible that the document could be circu- 
 lated through the Highlands within the prescribed 
 jriod. Locheill, says Drummond of Balhaldy, 
 did not receive his copy till about thirty hours be- 
 fore the time was out, and appeared before the 
 sheriff at Inverara, where he took the oaths upon 
 
 • the very day on which the indemnity expired. 
 
 6 
 
122 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 That a general massacre throughout the High- 
 lands was contemplated by the whig government is 
 a fact established by overwhelming evidence. In 
 the course of the subsequent investigation before 
 the Scots Parliament, letters were produced from 
 Sir John Dalrymple, then Master of Stair, one of 
 the secretaries of state in attendance upon the court, 
 which too clearly indicate the intentions of William, 
 In one of these, dated 1st December, 1694 — amonth, 
 be it observed, before the amnesty expired — and 
 addressed to Lieutenant-Colonel Hamilton, there 
 are the following words : — " The winter is the only- 
 season in which we are sure the Highlanders cannot 
 escape us, nor carry their wives, bairns, and cattle 
 to the mountains." And in another letter, written 
 
 only two days afterwards, he says, — " It is the only 
 
 m 
 time that they cannot escape you, for human con- 
 
 stitution cannot endure to be long out of houses. 
 This is the proper season to manle them in the cold 
 long nights.'^'' And in January thereafter, he inform- 
 ed Sir Thomas Livingston that the design was " to 
 destroy entirely the country of Lochaber, Locheill's * 
 
THE WIDOW OF GLENCOE. 123 
 
 lands, Keppoch's, Glengarry's, Appin, and Glencoe. 
 " I assure you," he continues, " your power shall be 
 full enough, and I hope the soldiers will not trouble 
 the Govepiment with jyrisoners.^^ 
 
 Locheill was more fortunate than others of his 
 friends and neighbors. According to Drummond, 
 — " Major Menzies, who, upon his arrival, had 
 observed the whole forces of the kingdom ready 
 to invade the Highlands, as he wrote to General 
 Buchan, foreseeing the unhappy consequences, not 
 only begged that general to send expresses to all 
 parts with orders immediately to submit, but also 
 wrote to Sir Thomas Livingston, praying him to 
 supplicate the Council for a prorogation of the time, 
 in regard that he was so excessively fatigued, that 
 he was obliged to stop some days to repose a little ; 
 and that though he should send expresses, yet it 
 was impossible they could reach the distant parts in 
 such time as to allow the several persons concerned 
 the benefit of the indemnity within the space limit- 
 ed ; besides, that some persons having put the 
 Highlanders in a bad temper, he was confident to 
 
124 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 persuade them to submit, if a further time were 
 allowed. Sir Thomas presented this letter to tlie 
 Council on the 5th of January, 1692, but they re- 
 fused to give any answer, and ordered him to 
 transmit the same to Court." 
 
 The reply of William of Orange was a letter, 
 countersigned by Dalrymple, in which, upon the 
 recital that " several of the chieftains and many of 
 their clans have not taken the benefit of our 
 gracious indemnity," he gave orders for a general 
 massacre. " To that end, we have given Sir Tho- 
 mas Livingston orders to employ our troops (which 
 we have already conveniently posted) to cut off 
 these obstinate rebels hy all manner of hostility ; awdi 
 we do require you to give him your assistance and 
 concurrence in all other things that may conduce to 
 that service ; and because these rebels, to avoid our 
 forces, may draw themselves, their families^ goods, 
 or cattle, to lurk or be concealed among their neigh- 
 bors : therefore we require and authorize you to 
 emit a proclamation, to be published at the market- 
 crosses of these or the adjacent shires where the 
 
THE WIDOW OF GLENCOE. 125 
 
 rebels reside, discharging, upon the highest penalties 
 the law allows, any reset, correspondence, or inter- 
 communing with these rebels." This monstrous 
 mandate, which was in fact the death-warrant of 
 many thousand innocent people, no distinction being 
 made of age or sex, would, in all human probability, 
 have been put into execution, but for the remon- 
 strance of one highminded nobleman. Lord Car- 
 marthen, afterwards Duke of Leeds, accidentally 
 became aware of the proposed massacre, and per- 
 sonally remonstrated with the monarch against a 
 measure which he denounced as at once cruel and 
 impolitic. After much discussion, William, influ- 
 enced rather by an apprehension that so savage 
 and sweeping an act might prove fatal to his new 
 authority, than by any compimction or impulse of 
 humanity, agreed to recall the general order, and to 
 limit himself, in the first instance, to a single deed 
 of butchery, by way of testing the temper of the 
 nation. Some difficulty seems to have arisen in the 
 selection of the fittest victim. Both Keppoch and 
 Glencoe were named, but the personal rancor of 
 
126 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Secretary DaLymple decided the doom of the 
 latter. The secretary wrote thus : — " Ai'gyle tells 
 me that Glencoe hath not taken the oath, at which 
 I rejoice. It is a great work of charity to be exact 
 in rooting out that damnable set." The final in- 
 structions regarding Glencoe, which were issued on 
 16th January, 1692, are as follows : — 
 
 " "WnxiAM K. — As for M'lan of Glencoe and that tribe, if 
 they can be well distinguished from the rest of the Highland- 
 ers, it will be proper for public justice to extirpate that set of 
 thieves. ^Y. E." 
 
 This letter is remarkable as bein<2: simied and 
 countersigned by William alone, contrary to the 
 usual practice. The secretary was no doubt 
 desirous to screen himself from after responsibility, 
 and was further aware that the royal signature 
 would insure a rigorous execution of the sentence. 
 
 Macdonald, or, as he was more commonly design- 
 ed, M'lan of Glencoe, was the head of a considera- 
 ble sept or branch of the great Clan-Coila, and was 
 lineally descended from the ancient Lords of the 
 Isles, and from the royal family of Scotland — the 
 
THE WIDOW OF GLENCOE. 127 
 
 common ancestor of tlie Macdonalds having espoused 
 a daughter of Robert II. He was, according to a 
 contemporary testimony, " a person of great integ- 
 rity, honor, good nature, and courage; and his 
 loyalty to his old master, King James, was such, 
 that he continued in arms from Dundee's first 
 appearing in the Highlands, till the fatal treaty that 
 brought on his ruin." In common with the other 
 chiefs, he had omitted taking the benefit of the 
 indemnity until he received the sanction of King 
 James : but the copy of that document which was 
 forwarded to him, unfortunately arrived too late. 
 The weather was so excessively stormy at the time, 
 that there was no possibility of penetratmg from 
 Glencoe to Inverara, the place where the sheriff 
 resided, before the expiry of the stated period ; and 
 M'lan accordingly adopted the only practicable 
 mode of signifying his submission, by making his 
 way with great difficulty to Fort-William, then 
 called Inverlochy, and tendering his signature to 
 the military Governor there. That officer was not 
 authorized to receive it, but at the earnest entreaty 
 
128 BAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 of the chief, he gave him a certificate of his appear- 
 ance and tender; and on New- Year's day 1692, 
 M'lan reached Inverara. where he produced that 
 paper as evidence of his intentions, and prevailed 
 upon the sheriff. Sir James Campbell of Ardkinglass, 
 to administer the oaths required. After that cere- 
 mony, which was immediately intimated to the 
 Privy Council, had been performed, the unfortunate 
 gentlemaij returned home, in the full conviction 
 that he had thereby made peace with Government 
 for himself and for his clan. But his doom was 
 already sealed. 
 
 A company of the Earl of Argyle's regiment had 
 been previously quartered at Glencoe. These men, 
 though Campbells, and hereditarily obnoxious to 
 the Macdonalds, Camerons, and other of the loyal 
 clans, were yet countrymen, and were kindly and 
 hospitably received. Their captain, Robert Camp- 
 bell of Glenlyon, was connected with the family of 
 Glencoe through the marriage of a niece, and was 
 resident under the roof of the chief. And yet this 
 was the very troop selected for the horrid service. 
 
THE WIDOW OF GLENCOE. 129 
 
 Special instructions were sent to the major of the 
 regiment, one Dimcanson, then quartered at Balla- 
 chulish — a morose, brutal, and savage man — who 
 accor(^ngly wrote to Campbell of Glenlyon in the 
 following terms : — 
 
 Ballacholis, 12 February^ 1692. 
 " SIE, — You are liereby ordered to fall upon the rebels, the 
 M'Donalds of Glencoe, and putt all to the sword under seventy. 
 You are to have special care that the old fox and his sons doe 
 upon no account escape your hands. You are to secure 
 all the avenues, that no man escape. This you are to put in 
 execution att five o'clock in the morning precisely, and by that 
 time, or very shortly after it, I'll strive to be att you with a 
 stronger party. If I doe not come to you att five, you are not 
 to tarry for me, but to fall on. This is by the king's special! 
 command, for the good and safety of the country, that these 
 miscreants be cutt off root and branch. See that this be putt 
 in execution without feud or favour, else you may expect to be 
 treated as not true to the king's government, nor a man fitt to 
 carry a commission in the king's service. Expecting you will 
 not faill in the fulfilling hereof as you love yourself, I subscribe 
 these with my hand. 
 
 " EOBEKT DCXCANSON. 
 
 ^^ For tJieb' Majesties' service. 
 *' To Captain Robert CampbeU of Glenlyon?'' 
 
 This order was but too literally obeyed. At the 
 
 appointed hour, when the whole inhabitants of the 
 
 6* 
 
180 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 glen were asleep, the work of murder began. M'lau 
 was one of the first who fell. Drummond's narra- 
 tive fills up the remainder of the dreadful story. 
 
 " They then served all within the family in the 
 same manner, without distinction of age or person. 
 In a word — for the horror of that execrable butchery 
 must give pain to the reader — they left none alive 
 but a young child, who, being frightened with the 
 noise of the guns, and the dismal shrieks and cries 
 of its dying parents, whom they were a-murdering, 
 got hold of Captain Campbell's knees, and wrapt 
 itself within his cloak ; by which, chancing to move 
 compassion, the captain inclined to have saved it, 
 but one Drummond, an officer, arriving about the 
 break of day with more troops, commanded it to 
 be shot by a file of musqueteers. Nothing could 
 be more shocking and horrible than the prospect of 
 these houses bestrewed with mangled bodies of the 
 dead, covered with blood, and resounding with the 
 groans of wretches in the last agonies of life. 
 
 " Two sons of Glencoe's were the only persons 
 that escaped in that quarter of the country; for, 
 
 I 
 
THE WIDOW OF GLENCOE. 131 
 
 growing jealous of some ill designs from the beha- 
 vior of the soldiers, they stole from their beds a few 
 minutes before the tragedy began, and, chancing to 
 overhear two of them discoursing plainly of the 
 matter, they endeavored to have advertised their 
 father, but, finding that impracticable, they ran to 
 the other end of the country and alarmed the inhabi- 
 tants. There was another accident that contributed 
 much to their safety ; for the night was so exces- 
 sively stormy and tempestuous, that four hundred 
 soldiers, who were appointed to murder these 
 people, were stopped in their march from Inver- 
 lochy, and could not get up till they had time to 
 save themselves. 'To cover the deformity of so 
 dreadful a sight, the soldiers burned all the houses 
 to the ground, after havmg rifled them, carried away 
 nine hundred cows, two hundred horses, numberless 
 herds of sheep and goats, and everything else that 
 belonged to these miserable people. Lamentable 
 was the case of the women and children that 
 escaped the butchery : the mountains were covered 
 with a deep snow, the rivers impassable, storm and 
 
132 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS, 
 
 tempest filled the air, and added to the horrors and 
 darkness of the night, and there were no houses to 
 shelter them within many miles."* 
 
 Such was the awful massacre of Glencoe, an 
 event which has left an indelible and execrable 
 stain upon the memory of William of Orange. 
 The records of Indian warfare can hardly afford a 
 parallel instance of atrocity ; and this deed, coupled 
 with his deliberate treachery in the Darien scheme, 
 whereby Scotland was for a time absolutely ruined, 
 is sufficient to account for the little estimation in 
 which the name of the " great Whig deliverer " is 
 still regarded in the valleys of the North. 
 
 * Memoirs of Sir Ewen Cameron of Locheill. 
 
 I 
 
THE WIDOW 
 
 OF 
 
 GLENCOE. 
 
 I. 
 
 Do not lift him from the bracken, 
 
 Leave him lying where he fell — 
 
 Better bier ye cannot fashion : 
 None beseems him half so well 
 
 As the bare and broken heather, 
 And the hard and trampled sod, 
 
 Whence his angry soul ascended 
 To the judgment- seat of God ! 
 
134 
 
 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Winding-sheet we cannot give liim — 
 
 Seek no mantle for the dead, 
 Save the cold and spotless covering 
 
 Showered from heaven upon his head. 
 Leave his broadsword as we found it, 
 
 Bent and broken with the blow, 
 Which, before he died, avenged him 
 
 On the foremost of the foe. 
 Leave the blood upon his bosom — 
 
 Wash not off that sacred stain j 
 Let it stiffen on the tartan, 
 
 Let his wounds unclosed remain, 
 Till the day when he shall show them 
 
 At the throne of God on high, 
 When the murderer and the murdered 
 
 Meet before their Judge's eye ! 
 
 II. 
 
 Nay — ye shall not weep, my children ! 
 
 Leave it to the faint and weak ; 
 Sobs are but a woman's weapon — 
 
 Tears befit a maiden's cheek. 
 
THE WIDOW OF GLEXCOE. 135 
 
 Weep not, children of Macdonald ! 
 
 Weep not thou, his orphan heir — 
 Not ui shame, but stainless honor, 
 
 Li^s thy slaughtered father there. 
 Weep not — but when years are over, 
 
 And thine arm is strong and sure. 
 And thy foot is swift and steady 
 
 On the mountain and the muir — 
 Let thy heart be hard as iron, 
 
 And thy wrath as fierce as fire. 
 Till the hour when vengeance cometh 
 
 For the race that slew thy sire ! 
 Till in deep and dark Glenlyon 
 
 Rise a louder shriek of wo, 
 Than at midnight from their eyrie. 
 
 Scared the eagles of Glencoe : 
 Louder than the screams that mingled 
 
 With the howling of the blast, 
 When the murderer's steel was clashing 
 
 And the fires were rising fast ; 
 When thy noble father bounded 
 
 To the rescue of his men. 
 
 &5 
 
136 
 
 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 And the slogan of our kindred 
 
 Pealed throughout the startled glen ! 
 When the herd of frantic women 
 
 Stumbled through the midnight snow, 
 With their fathers' houses blazing, 
 
 And their dearest dead below ! 
 Oh, the horror of the tempest, 
 
 As the flashing drift was blown, 
 Crimsoned with the conflagration. 
 
 And the roofs went thundering down ! 
 Oh, the prayers — the prayers and curses 
 
 That together winged their flight 
 From the maddened hearts of many 
 
 Through that long and woful night ! 
 Till the fires began to dwindle. 
 
 And the shots grew faint and few, 
 And we heard the foeman's challenge 
 
 Only in a far hilloo : 
 Till the silence once more settled 
 
 O'er the gorges of the glen. 
 Broken only by the Cona 
 
 Plunging through its naked den. 
 
THE WIDOW OF GLENCOE. 137 
 
 Slowly from the mountain-summit 
 
 Was the drifting veil withdrawn, 
 And the ghastly valley glimmered 
 
 In the gray December dawn. 
 Better had the morning never 
 
 Dawned upon our dark despair ! 
 Black amidst the common whiteness 
 
 Rose the spectral ruins there : 
 But the sif^ht of these was nothing 
 
 More than wrings the wild-dove's breast, 
 When she searches for her offspring 
 
 Round the relics of her nest. 
 For in many a spot the tartan 
 
 Peered above the wintry heap. 
 Marking where a dead Macdonald 
 
 Lay within his frozen sleep. 
 Tremblingly we scooped the covering 
 
 From each kindred victim's head, 
 And the living lips were burning 
 
 On the cold ones of the dead. 
 And I left them with their dearest — 
 
 Dearest charge had every one — 
 
138 LAYS .OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Left the maiden witli her lover, 
 
 Left the mother with her son. 
 I alone of all was mateless — 
 
 Far more wretched I than they, 
 For the snow would not discover 
 
 Where my lord and husband lay. 
 But I wandered up the valley, 
 
 Till I found him lying low, 
 With the gash upon his bosom 
 
 And the frown upon his brow — 
 Till I found him lying murdered, 
 
 Where he wooed me long ago ! 
 
 ni. 
 
 Woman's weakness shall not shame me- 
 
 Why should I have tears to shed ? 
 Could I rain them down like water, 
 
 O my hero ! on thy head — 
 Could the cry of lamentation 
 
 Wake thee from thy silent sleep, 
 Could it set thy heart a-throbbing. 
 
 It were mine to wail and weep ! 
 
THE WIDOW OF GLENCOE. 139 
 
 But I will not waste my sorrow, 
 
 Lest the Campbell women say 
 That the daughters of Clanranald 
 
 Are as weak and frail as they. 
 I had wept thee hadst thou fallen, 
 
 Like our fathers, on thy shield, 
 When a host of English foemen 
 
 Camped upon a Scottish field — 
 I had mourned thee, hadst thou perished 
 
 With the foremost of his name, 
 When the valiant and the noble 
 
 Died around the dauntless Grssme ! 
 But I will not wrong thee, husband ! 
 
 With my unavailing cries. 
 Whilst thy cold and mangled body 
 
 Stricken by the traitor lies ; 
 Whilst he counts the gold and glory 
 
 That this hideous night has won. 
 And his heart is big with triumph 
 
 At the murder he has done. 
 Other eyes than mine shall glisten, 
 
 Other hearts be rent in twain, 
 
140 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Ere the heathbells on thy hillock 
 
 Wither in the autumn rain. 
 Then I'll see thee where thou sleepest, 
 
 And I'll veil my weary head, 
 Praying for a place, beside thee, 
 
 Dearer than my bridal-bed : 
 And I'll give thee tears, my husband ! 
 
 If the tears remain to me. 
 When the widows of the foeman 
 
 Cry the coronach for thee ! 
 
THE ISLAND 
 
 ov 
 
 THE SCOTS. 
 
 In consequence of a capitulation with Govern- 
 ment, the regular troops who had served under Lord 
 Dundee were conveyed to France ; and, immedi- 
 ately upon their landing, the officers and others had 
 their rank confirmed accordmg to the tenor of the 
 commissions and characters which they bore in 
 Scotland. They were distributed throughout the 
 different garrisons in the north of France, and 
 though nominally in the service of King James, 
 
142 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 derived their whole means of subsistence from the 
 bomity of the French monarch. So long as it 
 appeared probable that another descent was medi 
 tated, these gentlemen, w^ho were almost without 
 exception men of considerable family, assented to 
 this arrangement ; but the destruction of the French 
 fleet under Admiral Tourville, off La Hogue, led 
 to a material change in their views. After that 
 naval engagement, it became obvious that the cause 
 of the fugitive king was in the mean time despe- 
 rate, and the Scottish officers, with no less gallantry 
 than honor, volunteered a sacrifice which, so far as 
 I know, has hardly been equalled. 
 
 The old and interesting pamphlet written by one 
 of the corps,* from which I have extracted most of 
 the following details, but which is seldom perused 
 except by the antiquary, states that, — *" the Scottish 
 officers considering that, by the loss of the French 
 fleet. King James's restoration would be retarded; 
 for some time, and that they were burdensome to 
 
 * An accoimt of Dundee's Officers after they went to France. 
 By an Officer of the anny. London : 1714. 
 
THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS. 143 
 
 the King of France, being entertained in garrisons 
 on whole pay, without doing duty, when he had 
 almost all Europe in confederacy against him ; 
 therefore humbly entreated King James to have 
 them reduced into a company of private sentinels, 
 and chose officers amongst themselves to command 
 them ; assuring his Majesty that they would serve 
 in the meanest circumstances, and undergo the 
 greatest hardships and fatigues, that reason could 
 imagine or misfortunes inflict, until it pleased God 
 to restore him. King James commended their 
 generosity and loyalty, but disapproved of what 
 they proposed, and told ^lem it was impossible that 
 - gentlemen, who had served in so honorable posts 
 as formerly they had enjoyed, and lived in so great 
 plenty and ease, could ever undergo the fatigue and 
 hardships of private sentinels' duty. Again, that 
 his own first command was a company of officers, 
 whereof several died ; others, wearied with fatigue, 
 drew their discharges ; till at last it dwindled into 
 nothing, and he got no reputation by the command : 
 therefore he desired them to insist no more on that 
 
144 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 project. The officers (notwithstanding his Majesty's 
 desire to the contrary) made several interests at 
 court, and harassed him so much, that at last he 
 condescended," and appointed those who were to 
 command them. 
 
 Shortly afterwards the new corps was reviewed 
 for the first and last time by the unfortunate James 
 in the gardens of Saint Germains, and the tears are 
 said to have gushed from his eyes at the sight of 
 so many brave men, reduced, through their disin- 
 terested and persevering loyalty, to so very humble 
 a condition. " Gentlemen," said he, " my own mis- 
 fortunes are not so nigh -fliy heart as yours. It 
 grieves me beyond what I can express, to see so 
 many brave and worthy gentlemen, who had once 
 the prospect of being the chief officers in my army, 
 reduced to the stations of private sentinels. No- 
 thing but your loyalty, and that of a few of my 
 subjects in Britain, who are forced from their alle- 
 giance by the Prince of Orange, and who, I know, 
 will be ready on all occasions to serve me and my 
 distressed family, could make me willing to live. 
 
THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS. 145 
 
 The sense of what all of you have done and under- 
 gone for your loyalty, hath made so deep an impres- 
 sion upon my heart, that, if it ever please God to 
 restore me, it is impossible I can be forgetful of your 
 services- and sufferings. Neither can there be any 
 posts in the armies of my dominions, but what you 
 have just pretensions to. As for my son. your Prince, 
 he is of your own blood, a child capable of any im- 
 pression, and, as his education will be from you, it is 
 not supposable that he can forget your merits. At 
 your own desires, you are now going a long march 
 far distant from me. Fear God and love one another. 
 Write your wants particularly to me, and depend 
 upon it always to find me your parent and King." 
 The scene bore a strong resemblance to one which 
 many years afterwards occurred at Fontainebleau. 
 Tlie company listened to his words with deep emo- 
 tion, gathered round him, as if half repentant of their 
 own desire to go ; and so parted, for ever on this 
 earth, the dethroned monarch and his exiled subjects. 
 The number of this company of officers was 
 about one hundred and twenty ; their destination 
 
146 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 was Perpignan in Rousillon, close upon the fi'ontier 
 of Spain, where they were to join the army under 
 the command of the Mareschal de Noailles. Their 
 power of endurance, though often most severely 
 tested in an unwholesome climate, seems to have 
 been no less remarkable than their gallantry^ which 
 upon many occasions called forth the warm acknow- 
 ledgment of the Prench commanders. " Le gentil- 
 homme^'' said one of the generals, in acknowledg- 
 ment of their readiness at a peculiarly critical 
 moment, " est toitjours gentilhomme^ et se montre 
 toujours tel dans hesoin et dans le danger'"' — a eulogy 
 as applicable to them as it was in latter days to 
 La Tour d'Auvergne, styled the first grenadier of 
 France. At Perpignan they were joined by two 
 other Scottish companies, and the three seem to have 
 continued to serve together for several campaigns. 
 
 As a proof of the estimation in which they were 
 held, I shall merely extract a short account of the 
 taking of Rosas in Catalonia, before referring to the 
 exploit which forms the subject of the following bal- 
 lad. " On the 27th of May, the company of officers, 
 
THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS. 147 
 
 and other Scottish companies, were joined by two 
 companies of n-ish, to make up a battalion in order 
 to mount the trenches ; and the major part of the 
 officers listed themselves in the company of grena- 
 diers, under the command of the brave Major 
 Rutherford, who, on his way to the trenches, in sight 
 of Mareschal de Noailles and his court, marched 
 with Ills company on the side of the trench, which 
 exposed him to the fire of a bastion, where there 
 were two culverms and several other guns planted ; 
 likewise to the fire of two curtins lined with small 
 shot. Colonel Brown, following with the battalion, 
 was obliged, in honor, to march the same way 
 Major Rutherford had done ; the danger whereof the 
 Mareschal immediately perceiving, ordered one of 
 his aides-de-camp to command Rutherford to march 
 under cover of the trench, which he did ; and if he 
 had but delayed six minutes, the grenadiers and bat- 
 talion had been cut to pieces. Rutherford, with his 
 grenadiers, marched to a trench near the town, and 
 the battalion to a trench on the rear and flank of the 
 grenadiers, who fired so incessantly on the besieged, 
 
148 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 that they thought (the breach being practicable) 
 they were going to make their attacks, immediately 
 beat a chamade, and were willing to give up the 
 town upon reasonable terms : but the Mareschal's 
 demands w^ere so exorbitant, that the Governor 
 could not agree to them. Then firing began on both 
 sides to be very hot ; and they in the town, seeing 
 how the grenadiers lay, killed eight of them. When 
 the Governor surrendered the town, he inquired of 
 the Mareschal what countrymen these grenadiers 
 were ; and assured him it was on their account he 
 delivered up the town, because they fired so hotly, 
 that he believed they were resolved to attack the 
 breach. He answered, smiling, ' Ces sont mes enfans ■ 
 — They are my children.' Again ; ' they are the King 
 of Great Britain's Scottish ofKcers, who, to show their 
 willingness to share of his miseries, have reduced 
 themselves to the carrying of arms, and chosen to 
 serve under my command.' The next day, when the 
 Mareschal rode along the front of the camp, he halted 
 at the company of the officer's piquet, and they all 
 surrounded him. Then, with his hat in his hand, he 
 
THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS. 149 
 
 thanked them for their good services in the trenches, 
 and freely acknowledged it was their conduct and 
 courage which compelled the Governor to give up the 
 town ; and assured them he would acquaint his master 
 with the same, which he did ; for when his son arrived 
 with the news at Versailles, the King, having read the 
 letter, immediately took coach to St. Germains, and 
 when he had shown King James the letter, he thanked 
 him for the services his subjects had done in taking 
 Rosas in Catalonia ; who, with concern, replied, they 
 were the stock of his British officers, and that he was 
 sorry he could not make better provision for them." 
 
 And a miserable provision it was ! They were 
 gradually compelled to part with every remnant of 
 the property which they had secured from the ruins 
 of their fortunes ; so that when they arrived, after 
 various adventures, at Scelestat, in Alsace, they were 
 literally without the common means of subsistence. 
 Famine and the sword had by this time thinned 
 their ranks, but had not diminished their spirit, as the 
 following narrative of their last exploit will show : — 
 
 "In December, 1697, General Stirk, who com- 
 
150 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 maiided for the Germans, appeared with 16,000 men 
 on the other side of the Ehine, which obliged the 
 Marquis de Sell to draw out all the garrisons in 
 Alsace, who made up about 4000 men ; and he en- 
 camped on the other side of the Rhine, over against 
 General Stirk, to prevent his passing the Ehine and 
 carrying a bridge over into an island in the middle 
 of it, which the French foresaw would be of great 
 prejudice to- them. For the enemy's guns, placed 
 on that island, would extremely gall their camp, 
 which they could not hinder for the deepness of the 
 water and their wanting of boats — for which the 
 Marquis quickly sent ; but arriving too late, the Ger- 
 mans had carried a bridge over into the island, where 
 they had posted above five hundred men, who, by 
 order of their engineers, intrenched themselves : 
 which the company of officers perceiving, who always 
 grasped after honor, and scorjied all thoughts of 
 danger, resolved to wade the river, and attack the 
 Germans in the island ; 'and for that effect, desired 
 Captain John Foster, who then commanded them, 
 to beg of the Marquis that they might have liberty 
 
THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS. 151 
 
 to attack the Germans in the island ; who told Cap- 
 tain Foster, when the boats came up, they should be 
 the first that attacked. Foster courteously thanked 
 the M'S,rquis, and told him they would wade into the 
 island, who shrunk up his shoulders, prayed God to 
 bless them, and desired them to do what they 
 pleased." Whereupon the officers, with the other two 
 Scottish companies, made themselves ready; and, 
 having secured their arms round their necks, waded 
 into the river hand-in-hand, " according to the High- 
 land fashion," with the water as high as their breasts ; 
 and, having crossed the heavy stream, fell upon the 
 Germans in their intrenchment. These were pre- 
 sently thrown into confusion, and retreated, break- 
 ing down their own bridges, whilst many of them 
 were drowned. This movement having been made 
 in the dusk of the evening, partook of the character 
 of a surprise ; but it appears to me a very remark- 
 able one, as having been effected under such circum- 
 stances, in the dead of winter, and in the face of 
 an enemy who possessed the advantages both of 
 position and of numerical superiority. The author 
 
152 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 of the narrative adds : — " When the Marquis de Sell 
 heard the firing, and understood that the Germans 
 were beat out of the island, he made the sign of the 
 cross on his face and breast, and declared publicly, 
 that it was the bravest action that ever he saw, and 
 that his army had no honor by it. As soon as the 
 boats came, the Marquis sent into the island to 
 acquaint the officers that he would send them both 
 troops and provisions, who thanked his Excellency, 
 and desired he should be informed that they wanted 
 no troops, and could not spare time to make use of 
 provisions, and only desired spades, shovels, and 
 pickaxes, wherewith they might intrench themselves 
 — which were immediately sent to them. The next 
 morning, the Marquis came into the island, and 
 kindly embraced every officer, and thanked them 
 for the good service they had done his master, as- 
 suring them he would write a true account of their 
 honor and bravery to the Court of France, which, 
 at the reading his letters, immediately went to St. 
 Germains, and thanked King James for the services 
 his subjects had done on the Rhine." 
 
THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS. 153 
 
 The company kept possession of the island for 
 nearly six weeks, notwithstanding repeated attempts 
 on the part of the Germans to surprise and dislodge 
 them ; Lut all these having been defeated by the 
 extreme watchfulness of the Scots, General Stirk at 
 length drew off his army and retreated. "In con- 
 sequence of this action," says the Chronicler, " that 
 island is called at present Isle d'Ecosse, and will in 
 likelihood bear that name until the general confla- 
 gration." 
 
 Two years afterwards, a treaty of peace was con- 
 cluded ; and this gallant company of soldiers, worthy 
 of a better fate, was broken up and dispersed. At 
 the time when the narrative, from which I have 
 quoted so freely, was compiled, not more than six- 
 teen of Dundee's veterans were alive. The author 
 concludes thus, — " And thus was dissolved one of 
 the best companies that ever marched under com- 
 mand ! Gentlemen, who, in the midst of all their 
 pressures and obscurity, never forgot they were 
 gentlemen ; and whom the sweets of a brave, a just, 
 
 and honorable conscience rendered perhaps more 
 
 1* 
 
154 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS, 
 
 happy under those sufTerhigs, than the most pros- 
 perous and triumphant in iniquity, since our minds 
 stamp our happiness." 
 
 Some years ago, while visiting the ancient Scot- 
 tish convent at Ratisbon, my attention was drawn 
 to the monumental inscriptions on the walls of the 
 dormitory, many of which bear reference to gentle- 
 men of family and distinction, w^hose political prin- 
 ciples had involved them in the troubles of 1688, 
 1715, and 1745. Whether the cloister which now 
 holds their dust had afforded them a shelter in the 
 latter years of their misfortunes, I know not ; but, 
 
 for one that is so commemorated, hundreds of the 
 exiles must have passed away in obscurity, buried 
 
 in the field on which they fell, or carried from the 
 damp vaults of the military hospital to the trench, 
 without any token of remembrance, or any other 
 wish beyond that tvhich the minstrels have ascribed 
 to one of the greatest of our olden heroes — 
 
 " Oh ! bury me by the bracken bush, 
 
 Beneath the blooming brier ; 
 Let never hving mortal ken 
 
 That a kindly Scot lies here !" 
 
THE ISLAND 
 
 OB- 
 
 THE SCOTS. 
 
 I. 
 
 The Ehine is running deep and red, 
 
 The island lies before — 
 " Now is there one of all the host 
 
 Will dare to venture o'er 1 
 For not alone the river's sweep 
 
 Might make a brave man quail : 
 The foe are on the furthei; side, 
 
 Their shot comes fast as hail. 
 
156 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 God help us, if the middle isle 
 
 We may not hope to win ! 
 Now is there any of the host 
 
 Will dare to venture inl" 
 
 II. 
 
 " The ford is deep, the banks are steep, 
 
 The island-shore lies wide : 
 Nor man nor horse could stem its force, 
 
 Or reach the further side. 
 See there ! amidst the willow-boughs 
 
 The serried bayonets gleam ; 
 They've flung their bridge, they've won the isle ; 
 
 The foe have crossed the stream ! 
 Their volley flashes sharp and strong — 
 
 By all the saints ! I trow 
 There never yet was soldier born 
 
 Could force that passage now !" 
 
 III. 
 
 So spoke the bold French Mareschal 
 With him who led the van, 
 
THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS. 157 
 
 Whilst rough and red before their view 
 
 The turbid river ran. 
 . Nor bridge nor boat had they to cross 
 
 The wild and swollen Ehine, 
 And thundering on the other bank 
 
 Far stretched the German line. 
 Hard by there stood a swarthy man 
 
 Was leaning on his sword, 
 And a saddened smile lit up his face 
 
 As he heard the Captain's word. 
 " I've seen a wilder stream ere now 
 
 Than that which rushes there ; 
 I've stemmed a heavier torrent yet 
 
 And never thought to dare. 
 If German steel be sharp and keen, 
 
 Is ours not strong and true ? 
 There may be danger in the deed. 
 
 But there is honor too." 
 
 IV. 
 
 The old lord in his saddle turned, 
 And hastily he said — 
 
158 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 " Hath bold Duguescliii's fiery heart 
 
 Awakened from the dead 1 
 Thou art the leader of the Scots — 
 
 Now well and sure I know, 
 That gentle blood m dangerous hour 
 
 Ne'er yet ran cold nor slow, 
 And I have seen ye in the fight 
 
 Do all that mortal may : 
 If honor is the boon ye seek 
 
 It may be won this day — . 
 The prize is in the middle isle. 
 
 There lies the adventurous way. 
 And armies twain are on the plain. 
 
 The daring deed to see — 
 Now ask thy gallant company 
 
 If they will follow thee !" 
 
 V. 
 
 Eight gladsome looked the Captain then, 
 
 And nothing did he say, 
 But he turned him to his little band — 
 
 Oh few, I ween, were they ! 
 
THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS. 159 
 
 The relics of the bravest force 
 
 That ever fought in fray. 
 No one of all that company 
 
 But bore a gentle name, 
 Not one whose fathers had not stood 
 
 In Scotland's fields of fame. 
 All they had marched with great Dundee 
 
 To where he fought and fell, 
 And in the deadly battle-strife 
 
 Had venged their leader well ; 
 And they had bent the knee to earth 
 
 "When every eye was dim, 
 As o'er their hero's buried corpse 
 
 They sang the funeral hymn ; 
 And they had trod the Pass once more, 
 
 And stooped on either side 
 To pluck the heather from the spot 
 
 Where he had dropped and died ; 
 And they had bound it next their hearts, 
 
 And ta'en a last farewell 
 Of Scottish earth and Scottish sky, 
 
 W^here Scotland's glory fell. 
 
160 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Then went they forth to foreign lands 
 Like bent and broken men, 
 
 Who leave their dearest hope behind, 
 And may not turn again. 
 
 VI. 
 
 " The stream," he said, " is broad and deep, 
 
 And stubborn is the foe — 
 Yon island-strength is guarded well — * 
 
 Say, brothers, will ye go % 
 From home and kin for many a year 
 
 Our steps have wandered wide. 
 And never may our bones be laid 
 
 Our fathers' graves beside. 
 No children have we to lament. 
 
 No wives to wail our fall ; 
 The traitor's and the spoiler's hand 
 
 Have reft our hearths of all. 
 But we have hearts, and we have arms, 
 
 As strong to will and dare 
 
THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS. 161 
 
 As when our ancient banners flew 
 
 Within the northern air. 
 Gome, brothers ! let me name a spell 
 
 Shall rouse vour souls again, 
 And send the old blood bounding free 
 
 Through pulse, and heart, and vein. 
 Call back the days of bygone years — 
 
 Be young and strong once more ; 
 Think yonder stream, so stark and red, 
 
 Is one we've crossed before. 
 Rise, hill and glen ! rise, crag and wood ! 
 
 Rise up on either hand — 
 Again upon the Garry's banks. 
 
 On Scottish soil we stand ! 
 Again I see the tartans wave, 
 
 Again the trumpets ring ; 
 Again I hear our leader's call — 
 
 * Upon them for the King !' 
 Stayed we behind that glorious day 
 
 For roaring flood or linn 1 
 The soul of Graeme is with us still — 
 
 Now, brothers ! will ye in 1" 
 
162 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 VII. 
 
 No stay — no pause. With one accord 
 
 They grasped each other's hand, 
 And plunged into the angry flood, 
 
 That bold and dauntless band. 
 High flew the spray above their heads, 
 
 Yet onward still they bore, 
 Midst cheer, and shout, and answering yell, 
 , And shot, and cannon-roar. , 
 
 " Now, by the Holy Cross ! I swear. 
 
 Since earth and sea began 
 Was never such a daring deed 
 
 Essayed by mortal man !" 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Thick blew the smoke across the stream, 
 
 And faster flashed the flame : 
 The water plashed in hissing jets 
 
 As ball and bullet came. 
 Yet onwards pushed the Cavaliers 
 
 All stern and undismayed. 
 
THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS. 
 
 With thousand armed foes before, 
 
 And none behind to aid. 
 Once, as they neared the middle stream, 
 
 So strong the torrent swept, 
 That scarce that long and living wall, 
 
 Their dangerous footing kept. 
 Then rose a warning cry behind, 
 
 A joyous shout before : 
 " The current's strong — the way is long — 
 
 They'll never reach the shore ! 
 See, see ! they stagger in the midst, 
 
 They waver in their line ! 
 Fire on the madmen ! break their ranks. 
 
 And whelm them in the Rhme l" 
 
 IX. 
 
 Have you seen the tall trees swaying 
 When the blast is piping shrill, 
 
 And the whirlwind reels in fury 
 Down the gorges of the hill % 
 
 How they toss their mighty branches. 
 Striving with the tempest's shock ; 
 
 163 
 
 J * 
 
164 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 How they keep their place of vantage, 
 
 Cleaving firmly to the rock 1 
 Even so the Scottish warriors 
 
 Held their own against the river ; 
 Though the water flashed around them, 
 
 Not an eye was seen to quiver ! 
 Though the shot flew sharp and deadly, 
 
 Not a man relaxed his hold : 
 For their hearts were big and thrilling 
 
 With the mighty thoughts of old. 
 One word was spoke among them, 
 
 And through the ranks it spread — 
 " Remember our dead Claverhouse !" . 
 
 Was all the Captain said. 
 Then, sternly bending forward. 
 
 They struggled on awhile, 
 Until they cleared the heavy stream. 
 
 Then rushed towards the isle. 
 
 X. 
 
 The German heart is stout and true, 
 The German arm is strong ; 
 
THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS. 165 
 
 The German foot goes seldom back 
 
 Where armed foemen throng. 
 But never had they faced in field 
 
 So stern a charge before. 
 And never had they felt the sweep 
 
 Of Scotland's broad claymore. 
 Not fiercer pours the avalanche 
 
 Adown the steep incline, 
 That rises o'er the parent-springs 
 
 Of rough and rapid Rhine — 
 Scarce swifter shoots the bolt from heaven 
 
 Than came the Scottish band 
 Right up against the guarded trench, 
 
 And o'er it sword in hand. 
 In vain their leaders forward press — 
 
 They meet the deadly brand ! 
 
 XI. 
 
 O. lonely island of the Rhine, 
 
 Where seed was never sown. 
 What harvest lay upon thy sands, 
 
 By those strong reapers thrown *? 
 
166 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAvAlIERS. 
 
 What saw the winter moon that night. 
 
 As, struggling through the rain, 
 She poured a wan and fitful light 
 
 On marsh, and stream, and plain ? 
 A dreary spot with corpses strewn. 
 
 And bayonets glistening round ; 
 A broken bridge, a stranded boat, 
 
 A bare and battered mound ; 
 And one huge watch-fire's kindled pile, 
 
 That sent its quivering glare 
 To tell the leaders of the host 
 
 The conquering Scots were there ! 
 
 XII. 
 
 And did they twine the laurel- wreath 
 
 For those who fought so well ? 
 And did they honor those who lived. 
 
 And weep for those who fell ? 
 What meed of thanks was given to them 
 
 Let aged annals tell. 
 Why should they twine the laurel-wreath- 
 
 Why crown the cup with wine ? 
 
THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS. 167 
 
 It was not Frenchinen's blood that flowed 
 
 So freely on the Rhine — 
 A stranger band of beggared men 
 
 Had done the venturous deed : 
 The glory was to France alone, 
 
 The danger was their meed. 
 And what cared they for idle thanks 
 
 From foreign prince and peer? 
 What virtue had such honeyed words 
 
 The exiled heart to cheer ? • 
 
 What mattered it that men should vaunt 
 
 And loud and fondly swear, 
 That higher feat of chivalry 
 
 Was never wrought elsewhere 1 
 They bore within their breasts the grief 
 
 That fame can never heal — 
 The deep unutterable wo 
 
 Which none save exiles feel. 
 Their hearts were yearning for the land 
 
 They ne'er might see again — 
 For Scotland's high and heathered hills, • 
 
 For mountain, loch, and glen — 
 
168 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Eor those who haply lay at rest 
 
 Beyond the distant sea, 
 Beneath the green and daisied turf 
 
 Where they would gladly be 1 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Long years went by. The lonely isle 
 
 In Ehine's impetuous flood 
 Has ta'en another name from those 
 
 Who bought it with their blood : 
 
 « 
 
 And, though the legend does not live. 
 
 For legends lightly die. 
 The peasant, as he sees the stream 
 
 In winter rolling by. 
 And foaming o'er its channel-bed 
 
 Between him and the spot 
 Won by the warriors of the sword, 
 Still calls that deep and dangerous ford 
 
 The Passage of the Scot. 
 
CHARLES EDWARD 
 
 AX 
 
 VERSAILLES 
 
 Though the sceptre had departed from the House 
 of Stuart, it was reserved for one of its last descend- 
 ants to prove to the world, by his personal gallan- 
 try and noble spirit of enterprise, that he at least 
 had not degenerated from his royal line of ances- 
 tors. The daring effort of Charles Edward to reco- 
 ver the crown of these kingdoms for his father, is 
 to us the most remarkable incident of the last cen- 
 tury. It was honoi'able alike to the Prince and to 
 
170 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 those who espoused his cause ; and, even in a poli- 
 'tical point of view, the outbreak ought not to be 
 deplored, since its fliilure put an end for ever to the 
 dynastical struggle which, for more than half a cen- 
 tury, had agitated the whole of Britain, since it es- 
 tablished the rule of law and of social order through- 
 out the mountainous districts of Scotland, and 
 blended Celt and Saxon into one prosperous and 
 united people. It was better that the antiquated 
 system of clanship should have expired in a blaze 
 of glory, than gradually dwindled into contempt ; 
 better that the patriarchal rule should at once have 
 been extinguished by the dire catastrophe of Cullo- 
 den, than that it should have lingered on, the sha- 
 dow of an old tradition. There is nothing now to 
 prevent us from dwelling with pride and admira- 
 tion on the matchless devotion displayed by the 
 Highlanders, in 1745, in behalf of the heir of him 
 whom they acknowledged as their lawful king. 
 No feeling can arise to repress the interest and 
 the sympathy which is excited by the perusal of 
 the tale narrating the sufferings of the princely 
 
CHARLES ED^VARD AT VERSAILLES. 171 
 
 wanderer. That unbouglit loyalty and allegiance of 
 the heart, which would not depart from its constancy 
 until the tomb of the Vatican had closed upon the 
 last of the Stuart line, has long since been transferred 
 to the constitutional sovereign of these realms ; and 
 the enthusiastic welcome which has so often greeted 
 the return of Queen Victoria to her Highland home, 
 owes its origin to a deeper feeling than that dull 
 respect which modern liberalism asserts to be the 
 only tribute due to the first magistrate of the land. 
 The campaign of 1745 yields in romantic interest 
 to none which is written in history. A young and 
 inexperienced prince, whose person was utterly 
 unknown to any of his adherents, landed on the 
 west coast of Scotland, not at the head of a foreign 
 force, not munimented with supplies and arms, but 
 accompanied by a mere handful of followers, and 
 ignorant of the language of the people amongst 
 whom he was hazarding his person. His presence 
 in Scotland had not been urged by the chiefs of the 
 clans, most of whom were deeply averse to 
 embarking in an enterprise which must involve 
 
172 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 them in a war with so f)owerful an antagonist as 
 England, and which, if unsuccessful, could only 
 terminate in the utter ruin of their fortunes. This 
 was not a cause in which the whole of Scotland was 
 concerned. Although it was well known that many- 
 leading families in the Lowlands entertained Jaco- 
 bite opinions, and although a large proportion of the 
 common people had not yet become reconciled to, 
 or satisfied of the advantages of the Union, by 
 which they considered themselves dishonored and 
 betrayed, it was hardly to be expected that, without 
 some fair guarantee for success, the bulk of the 
 Scottish nation would actively bestir themselves on 
 the side of the exiled family. Besides this, even 
 amongst the Highlanders there was not unanimity 
 of opinion. The three northern clans of Sutherland, 
 Mackay, and Monro, were known to be staunch 
 supporters of the Government. It was doubtful 
 what part might be taken in the struggle by those 
 of Mackenzie and Eoss. The chiefs of Skye, who 
 could have brought a large force of armed men into 
 the field, had declined participating in the attempt. 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 173 
 
 The assistance from Lord Lovat, upon whom the 
 co-operation of the Frasers might depend, could not 
 be calculated on with certainty ; and nothing but 
 hostility could be expected from the powerful sept 
 of the Campbells. Under such circumstances, it is 
 little wonder if Cameron of Locheill, the most 
 sagacious of all the chieftains who favored the 
 Stuart cause, was struck with consternation and 
 alarm at the news of the Prince's landing, or that 
 he attempted to persuade him from undertaking an 
 adventure so seemingly hopeless. Mr. Robert 
 Chambers, in his admirable history of that period, 
 does not in the least exaggerate the importance of 
 the interview on the result of which the prosecution 
 of the war depended. " On arriving at Borrodale,. 
 Locheill had a private interview with the Prince, in 
 which the probabilities of the enterprise were 
 anxiously debated. Charles used every argument 
 to excite the loyalty of Locheill, and the chief 
 exerted all his eloquence to persuade the Prince to 
 withdraw till a better opportunity. Charles repre- 
 sented the present as the best possible opportunity, 
 
174 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 seeing that the French general kept the British 
 army completely engaged abroad, while at home 
 there were no troops but one or two newly raised 
 regiments. He expressed his confidence that a 
 small body of Highlanders would be sufficient to 
 gain a victory over all the force that could now be 
 brought against him; and he was equally sure 
 that such an advantage was all that was required to 
 make his friends at home declare in his favor, and 
 cause those abroad to send him assistance. All he 
 wanted was that *the Highlanders would begin the 
 war. Lochelll still resisted, entreating Charles to 
 be more temperate, and consent to remain concealed 
 where he was, till his friends should meet together 
 and concert what was best to be done. Charles, 
 whose mind was wound up to the utmost pitch of 
 impatience, pa'd no regard to this proposal, but 
 answered that he was determined to put all to the 
 hazard. 'In a few days,' said he, 'with the few 
 friends I have, I will raise the royal standard, and 
 proclaim, to the people of Britain that Charles 
 Stuart is come over to claim the crown of his 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 175 
 
 ancestors — to win it, or to perish in the attempt ! 
 Locheill — who, my father has often told me, was 
 our firmest friend — may stay at home, and learn 
 from the newspapers the fate of his Prince !' ' No I' 
 said Locheill, stimg by so poignant a reproach, and 
 hurried away by the enthusiasni of the moment ; 
 ' I will share the fate of my Prince, and so shall 
 every man over whom nature or fortune has given 
 me any power.' Such was the juncture upon which 
 depended the civil war of 1745 ; for it is a point 
 agreed, says Mr. Home, who narrates this conver- 
 sation, that if Locheill had persisted in his refusal 
 to take arms, no other chief would have joined the 
 standard, and the spark of rebellion must have been 
 instantly extinguished." Not more than twelve 
 hundred men were assembled in Glenfinnan on the 
 day when the standard was unfurled by the Marquis 
 of Tullibardine ; and at the head of this mere hand- 
 ful of followers, Charles Edward commenced the 
 stupendous enterprise of reconquering the dominions 
 of his fathers. 
 . With a force which, at the battle of Preston, did 
 
176 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 not double the above numbers, the Prince descended 
 upon the Lowlands, having baffled the attempts of 
 General Cope to intercept his march — occupied the 
 city of Perth and the town of Dundee, and finally, 
 after a faint show of resistance on the part of the 
 burghers, took possession of the ancient capital of 
 Scotland, and once more established a court in the 
 halls of Holyrood. His youth, his gallantry, and 
 the grace and beauty of his person, added to a most 
 ■winning and affable address, acquired for him the 
 sympathy of many who, from political motives, 
 abstained from becoming his adherents. Possibly 
 certain feelings of nationality, which no deliberate 
 views of civil or religious policy could altogether 
 extirpate, led such men to regard, with a sensation 
 akin to pride, the spectacle of a prince descended 
 from the long line of Scottish kings, again occupy- 
 ing his ancestral seat, and restoring to their country, 
 which had been utterly neglected by the new 
 dynasty, a portion of its former state. No doubt 
 a sense of pity for the probable fate of one so young 
 and chivalrous was often present to their minds, for 
 
CHARLES EDWAIID AT VERSAILLES. 177 
 
 they had thorongli confidence in the intrepidity of 
 the regular troops, and hi tlie capacity of their com- 
 mander j and they never for a moment supposed 
 that these could be successfully encountered by a 
 raw levy of undisciplined Highlanders, ill-armed 
 and worse equipped, and without the support of 
 any artillery. 
 
 The issue of the battle of Prestonpans struck 
 Edinburgh with amazement. In point of numbers 
 the two armies were nearly equal, but in everything 
 else, save personal valor, the royal troops had the 
 advantage. And yet, in four minutes — for the battle 
 is said not to have lasted longer — the Hiijjhlanders 
 having made only one terrific and impetuous charge 
 — the rout of the regulars was general. The in- 
 fimtry was broken and cut to pieces ; the dragoons, 
 who behaved shamefully on the occasion, turned 
 bridle and fled, without having once crossed swords 
 with the enemy, Mr. Chambers thus terminates 
 his account of the action : " The general result of 
 the battle of Preston may be stated as having been 
 
 the total overthrow and almost entire destruction 
 
 8* 
 
178 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 of the royal army. Most of the' infantry, falling 
 upon the park walls of Preston, were there huddled 
 together without the power of resistance into a 
 confused drove, and had either to surrender or be 
 cut to pieces. Many, in vainly attempting to climb 
 over the walls, fell an easy prey to the ruthless 
 claymore. Nearly 400, it is aid, were thus slain, 
 700 taken, while only about 170 in all succeeded in 
 effecting their escape. 
 
 " The dragoons, with worse conduct, were much 
 more fortunate. In falling back, they had the good 
 luck to find outlets from their respective positions 
 by the roads which ran along the various extremi- 
 ties of the park wall, and they thus got clear 
 through the village with little slaughter ; after 
 which, as the Highlanders had no horse to pursue 
 them, they were safe. Several officers, among 
 whom were Fowkes and Lascelles, escaped to 
 Cockenzie and along Seton Sands, in a direction 
 contrary to the general flight. 
 
 "The unfortunate Cope had attempted, at the 
 first break of Gardiner's dragoons, to stop and rally 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 179 
 
 them, but was borne headlong, with the confused 
 bands, through the narrow road to the south of the 
 enclosures, notwithstanding all his efforts to the 
 contrary. On getting beyond the village, where he 
 was joined by the retreating bands of the other 
 regiment, he made one anxious effort, with the 
 Earls of Loudon and Home, to form and bring them 
 back to charge the enemy, now disordered by the 
 pursuit ; but in vain. They fled on, ducking their 
 heads along their horses' necks, to escape the bullets 
 ■which the pursuers occasionally sent after them. 
 By using great exertions, and holding pistols to the 
 heads of the troopers, Sir John and a few of his 
 oflicers induced a small number of them to halt in 
 a field near St. Clement's Wells, about two miles 
 from the battle ground. But, after a momentary 
 delay, the accidental firing of a pistol renewed the 
 panic, and they rode off once more in great disorder. 
 Sir John Cope, with a portion of them, reached 
 Channelkirk at an early hour in the forenoon, and 
 there halted to breakfast, and to write a brief note 
 to one of the state-officers, relating the fate of the 
 
180 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 day. He then resumed his flight, and reached 
 Coldstream that night. Next morning he pro- 
 ceeded to Berwick, whose fortifications seemed 
 competent to give the security he required. He 
 everywhere brought the first tidings of his own 
 defeat." 
 
 This victory operated very much in favor of 
 Prince Charles. It secured him, for a season, the 
 undisputed possession of Scotland, and enabled 
 numerous adherents from all parts of the country 
 to raise such forces as they could command, and to 
 repair to his banner. His popularity in Edinburgh 
 daily increased, as the qualities of his person and 
 mind became known ; and such testimony as the 
 following, with respect to his estimation by the fair 
 sex, and the devotion they exhibited in his cause, is 
 not overcharged : " His affability and great personal 
 grace wrought him high favor with the ladies, who, 
 as we learn from the letters of President Forbes, 
 became generally so zealous in his cause as to have 
 some serious eflfect in inducing their admirers to 
 declare for the Prince. There was, we know for 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 181 
 
 certain, a Miss Liimsden, who plainly told her 
 lover, a young artist, named Robert Strange, that 
 he might think no more of her unless he should im- 
 mediately join Prince Charl'es, and thus actually 
 prevailed upon him to take up arms. It may be 
 added that he survived the enterprise, escaped with 
 great difficulty, and married the lady. He was 
 afterwards the best line-engraver of his time, and 
 received the honor of knighthood from George III. 
 White ribbons and breastknots became at this time 
 conspicuous articles of female attire in private 
 assemblies. The ladies also showed considerable 
 zeal in contributing plate and other articles for the 
 use of the Chevalier at the palace, and in raising 
 pecuniary subsidies for him. Many a posset-dish 
 and snuff-box, many a treasured necklace and 
 repeater, many a jewel which had adorned its suc- 
 cessive generations of family beauties, was at this 
 time sold or laid in pledge, to raise a little money 
 for the service of Prince Charlie." 
 
 As to the motives and intended policy of this 
 remarkable and unfortunate young man, it may be 
 
182 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 interesting to quote the terms of the proclamation 
 which he issued on the 10th October, 1745, before 
 commencing his march into England. Let his his- 
 tory be impartially read, his character, as spoken to 
 by those who knew him best, fairly noted, and I 
 think there cannot be a doubt that, had he succeeded 
 in his daring attempt, he would have been true to 
 the letter of his word, and fulfilled a pledge which 
 Britain never more required than at the period 
 when that document was penned : — 
 
 " Do not the pulpits and congregations of the 
 clergy, as well as your weekly papers, ring with 
 the dreadful threats of popery, slavery, tyranny, and 
 arbitrary power, which are now ready to be imposed 
 upon you by the formidable powers of France and 
 Spain? Is not my royal father represented as a 
 bloodthirsty tyrant, breathing out nothing but 
 destruction to all who will not immediately embrace 
 an odious religion ? Or have I myself been better 
 used 1 But listen only to the naked truth. 
 
 " I, with my own money, hired a small vessel. 
 Ill-supplied with money, arms, or friends, I arrived 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 183 
 
 in Scotland, attended by seven persons. I publish 
 the King my father's declaration, and proclaim his 
 title, with pardon in one hand, and in the other 
 liberty of conscience, and the most solemn promises 
 to grant whatever a free Pai'liament shall propose 
 for the happiness of the people. I have, I confess, the 
 greatest reason to adore the goodness of Almighty 
 God, who has in so remarkable a manner protected 
 me and my small army through the many dangers 
 to which we were at first exposed, and who has led 
 me in the way to victory, and to the capital of this 
 ancient kinsrdom, amidst the acclamations of the 
 King my flither's subjects. Why, then, is so much 
 pains taken to spirit up the minds of the people 
 against this my undertaking ? 
 
 " The reason is obvious ; it is, lest the real 
 sense of the nation's present sufferings should 
 blot out the remembrance of past misfortunes, 
 and of the outcries formerly raised against the 
 royal family. Whatever miscarriages might have 
 given occasion to them, they have been more than 
 atoned for since ; and the nation has now an 
 
184 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 opportunity of being secured against the like in 
 future. 
 
 " That our family has suiFered exile during 
 these fifty-seven years, everybody knows. Has the 
 nation, during that period of time, been the more 
 happy and flourishing for it '? Have you found 
 reason to love and cherish your governors as the 
 fathers of the people of Great Britain and Ireland 1 
 Has a family, upon whom a faction unlawfully 
 bestowed the diadem of a rightful prince, retained 
 a due sense of so great a trust and favor 1 Have 
 you found more humanity and condescension in 
 those who were not born to a crown, than in my 
 royal forefathers'? Have their ears been open to 
 the cries of the people? Have they or do they 
 consider only the interest of these nations 1 Have 
 you reaped any other benefit from them than an 
 immense load of debt ? If I am answered in the 
 affirmative, why has their government been so often 
 railed at in all your public assemblies 1 Why 
 has the nation been so long crying out in vain 
 for redress against the abuse of Parliaments, upon 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 185 
 
 account of their long duration, tho multitude of 
 placemen, which occasions their venality, the intro- 
 duction of penal laws, and, in general, against the 
 miserable situation of the kino;dom at home and 
 abroad ? All these, and many more inconveniences 
 must now be removed, unless the people of Great 
 Britain be already so far corrupted that they 
 will not accept of freedom when offered to them, 
 seeing the King, on his restoration, will refuse 
 nothing that a free Parliament can ask for the 
 security of the religion, laws, and liberty of his 
 people. 
 
 " It is now time to conclude ; and I shall do it 
 with this reflection. Civil wars aie ever attended 
 with rancour and ill-will, which party-rage never 
 fails to produce in the minds of those whom differ- 
 ent interests, principles, or views, set in opposition 
 to one another. I, therefore, earnestly require it 
 of my friends to give as little loose as possible to 
 such passions : this will prove the most effectual 
 means to prevent the same in the enemies of my 
 royal cause. And this my declaration will vindicate 
 
186 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIEHS. 
 
 to all posterity the nobleness of my undertaking 
 and the generosity of my intentions." 
 
 There was much truth in the open charges 
 preferred in this declaration against the existing 
 Government. The sovereigns of the house of Hanover 
 had always shown a marked predilection for their 
 Continental possessions, and had proportionally 
 neglected the affairs of Britain. Under Walpole's 
 administration, the imperial Parliament had degene- 
 rated from an independent assembly to a junta of 
 placemen, and the most flagitious system of bribery 
 was openly practised and avowed. It was not with- 
 out reason that Charles contrasted the state of the 
 nation then, with its position when under the rule 
 of the legitimate family ; and had there not been a 
 strong, though, I think, unreasonable suspicion in the 
 minds of many, that his success would be the prelude 
 to a vigorous attack upon the established religions of 
 the country, and that he would be inclined to follow 
 out in this respect the fatal policy of his grandfather, 
 Charles would in all probability, have received a 
 more active and general support than was accorded 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 187 
 
 to him. The zeal with which the Episcopalian party 
 in Scotland espoused his cause, naturally gave rise 
 to the idea that the attempt of the Prince was of 
 evil omen to Presbytery ; and the settlement of the 
 Church upon its present footing was yet so recent, 
 that the sores of the old feud were still festering and 
 green. The established clergy, therefore, were nearly, 
 to a man, opposed to his pretensions; and one 
 minister of Edinburgh, at the time when the High- 
 land host was in possession of the city, had the 
 courage to conclude his prayer nearly in the follow- 
 ing terms — " Bless the king ; Thou knows what king 
 I mean — may his crown long sit easy on his head. 
 And as to this young man who has come among us 
 to seek an earthly crown, we beseech Thee in mercy 
 to take him to thyself and give him a crown of 
 glory !" At the same time, it is very curious to 
 observe, that the most violent sect of Presbyterians, 
 who might be considered as the representatives of 
 the extreme Cameronian principle, and who had 
 early seceded from. the Church, and bitterly opposed 
 the unioii of the kingdoms, were not indisposed, on 
 
188 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 certain terms, to coalesce with the Jacobites. It is 
 hardly possible to understand the motives which 
 actuated these men, who appear to have regarded 
 each successive Government as equally obnoxious. 
 Some writers go the length of averring that, in 1688, 
 a negotiation was opened by one section of the 
 Covenanters with Lord Dundee, with the object of 
 resistance to the usurpation of William of Orange, 
 and that the project w^as frustrated only by the death 
 of that heroic nobleman. Sir Walter Scott — a great 
 authority — seems to have been convinced that such 
 was the case; but in the absence of direct proof, 
 I can hardly credit it. It is perfectly well known 
 that a conspiracy was formed by a certain section of 
 the Cameronian party to assassinate Lords Dundee 
 and Dunfermline whilst in attendance at the meeting 
 of Estates : and although the recognition of William 
 as King might not have been palatable to others 
 who held the same opinions, it would be a strange 
 thing if they had so suddenly resolved to assist 
 Dundee in his efforts for the exiled family. But the 
 political changes in Scotland, more especially the 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 189 
 
 Union, seem to have inspired some of these men with 
 a spirit of disaffection to the Government; for, 
 according to Mr. Chambers, the most rigid sect of 
 Presbyterians had, since the revolution, expressed a 
 strong desire to coalesce with the Jacobites, with the 
 hope, in case the house of Stuart were restored, to 
 obtain what they called a covenanted King. Of this 
 sect one thousand had assembled in Dumfriesshire 
 at the first intelligence of the insurrection, bearing 
 arms and colors, and supposed to contemplate a 
 junction with the Chevalier. But these religionists 
 were now almost as violently distinct from the 
 Established Church of Scotland as ever they had 
 been from those of England and Rome, and had 
 long ceased to play a prominent part in the national 
 disputes. The established clergy, and the greater 
 part of their congregations, were averse to Charles, 
 upon considerations perfectly moderate, at the same 
 time not easy to be shaken. 
 
 On commencing his march into England, Charles 
 found himself at the head of an army of between 
 five thousand and six thousand men, which force 
 
190 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 was considered strong enougli, with the augmenta- 
 tions it might receive on the way, to effect the 
 occupation of London. Had the English Jacobites 
 performed their part with the same zeal as the Scots, 
 it is more than probable that the attempt would 
 have been crowned with success. As it was, the 
 Prince succeeded in reducing the strong fortified 
 town of Carlisle, and in marching without oppo- 
 sition through the heart of England, as far as 
 Derby, within one hundred miles of the metropolis. 
 But here his better genius deserted him. Discord 
 had crept into his councils : for some of the chiefs 
 became seriously alarmed at finding that the gentry 
 of England were not prepared to join the expedition, 
 but preferred remaining at home, inactive specta- 
 tors of the contest. Except at Manchester, they had 
 received few or no recruits. No tidings had reached 
 them from Wales, a country supposed to be devoted 
 to the cause of King James, whilst it was well 
 known that a large force was already in arms to 
 oppose the clans. Mr. Chambers gives us the 
 following details: — "At a council of war held on the 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 191 
 
 morning of the 5th December, Lord George Murray 
 and the other members gave it as their inianimous 
 opinion that the army ought to return to Scotland. 
 Lord George pointed out that they were about to 
 be environed by three armies, amounting collec- 
 tively to about thirty thousand men, while their own 
 forces were not above five thousand, if so many. 
 Supposing an unsuccessful engagement with any of 
 these armies, it could not be expected that one man 
 would escape, for the militia would beset every road. 
 The Prince, if not slain in the battle, must fall into 
 the enemy's hands ; the whole world would blame 
 them as fools for running into such a risk. Charles 
 answered, that he regarded not his own danger. 
 He pressed, with all the force of argument, to go 
 forward. He did not doubt, he said, that the justice 
 of his cause would prevail. He was hopeful that 
 there might be a defection in the enemy's army, 
 and that many would declare for him. He was so 
 very bent on putting all to the risk, that the Duke 
 of Perth was for it, since his Royal Highness was. At 
 last he proposed going to Wales instead of return- 
 
192 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 ing to Carlisle ; but every other officer declared 
 his opinion for a retreat. These are nearly the 
 words of Lord George Murray. We are elsewhere 
 told that the Prince condescended to use entreaties 
 to induce his adherents to alter their resolution. 
 ' Rather than go back,' he said, ' I would wish to be 
 twenty feet under ground !' His chagrin, when 
 he found his councillors obdurate, was beyond all 
 bounds. The council broke up, on the under- 
 standing that the retreat was to commence next 
 morning ; Lord George volunteering to take the 
 place of honor in the rear, provided only that he 
 should not be troubled with the baggage." 
 
 This resolution was received by the army with 
 marks of unequivocal vexation. Retreat, in their 
 estimation, was little less than overthrow; and it 
 was most galling to find that, after all their labors, 
 hazards, and toils, they were doomed to disappoint- 
 ment at the very moment when the prize seemed 
 ready for their grasp. That the movement was an 
 injudicious one is, I think, obvious. We are told, 
 upon good authority, " that the very boldness of the 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 193 
 
 Prince's onward movement, especially taken into 
 connection with the expected descent from France, 
 had at length disposed the English Jacobites to come 
 out ; and many were just on the point of declar- 
 ing themselves, and marching to join his army, 
 when the retreat from Derby was determined on. 
 A Mr. Barry arrived in Derby two days after the 
 Prince left it, with a message from Sir Watkin 
 William "Wynne and Lord Barrymore, to assure 
 him, in the names of many ffiends of the cause, that 
 they were ready to join him in what manner he 
 pleased, either in the capital, or every one to rise in 
 liis own country. I have likewise been assured that 
 many of the Welsh gentry had actually left their 
 homes, and were on the way to join Charles, when 
 intelligence of his retreat at once sent them all back 
 peaceably, convinced that it was now too late to 
 contribute their assistance. These men, from the 
 power they had over their tenantry, could have 
 added materially to his military force. In fact, 
 from all that appears, we must conclude that the 
 
 insurgents had a very considerable chance of suc- 
 
 9 
 
194 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 cess from an onward movement — also, no doubt, a 
 chance of destruction, and yet not worse than what, 
 ultimately befell many of them — while a retreat 
 broke in a moment the spell which their gallantry 
 had conjured up, and gave the enemy a great 
 advantage over them." 
 
 One victory more was accorded to Prince Charles, 
 before his final overthrow. After successfully con- 
 ducting his retreat to Scotland, occupying Glasgow 
 and strengthening his army by the accession of new 
 recruits, he gave battle to the royal forces under 
 General Hawley at Falkirk, and, as at Preston, 
 drove them from the field. The parties were on 
 this occasion fairly matched, there being about 
 eight thousand men engaged on either side. The 
 action was short ; and, though not so decisive as the 
 former one, gave great confidence to the insurgents. 
 It has been thus picturesquely portrayed by the 
 historian of the enterprise : — " Some individuals, 
 who beheld the battle from the steeple of Falkirk, 
 used to describe these its main events as occupying 
 a surprisingly brief space of time. They first saw 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 195 
 
 the English army enter the misty and storm-covered 
 muii' at the top of the hill ; then saw the dull at- 
 mosphere thickened by a fast rolling smoke, and 
 heard the pealing sounds of the discharge ; imme- 
 diately after, they beheld the discomfited troops 
 burst wildly from the cloud in which they had been 
 involved, and rush in far-spread disorder over the 
 face of the hill. From the commencement to what 
 they styled ' the hreah of the battle,' there did not 
 intervene more than ten minutes — so soon may an 
 efficient body of men become, by one transient 
 emotion of cowardice, a feeble and contemptible 
 rabble. 
 
 "The rout would have been total, but for the 
 three out-flanking regiments. These not having 
 been opposed by any of the clans, having a ravine 
 in front, and deriving some support from a small 
 body of dragoons, stood their ground under the 
 command of General Huske and Brigadier Chol- 
 mondley. "When the Highlanders went past in 
 pursuit, they received a volley from this part of 
 the English army, which brought them to a pause, 
 
196 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 and caused them to draw back to their former 
 ground, their impression being that some ambus- 
 cade was intended. This saved the English army 
 from destruction. A pause took place, during 
 which the bulk of the English infantry got back 
 to Ealkirk. It was not until Lord George Murray 
 brought up the second line of his wing and the 
 pickets, with some others on the other wing, that 
 General Huske drew off his party, which he did in 
 good order." 
 
 The seat of war was now removed to the North. 
 The month of April, 1746, foimd Prince Charles in 
 possession of Inverness, with an army sorely dwindled 
 in numbers, and in great want of necessaries and 
 provisions. Many of the Highlanders had retired 
 for the winter to their native glens, and had not yet 
 rejoined the standard. The Duke of Cumberland, 
 who now commanded the English army, with a 
 reputation not diminished by the unfortunate issue 
 of Eontenoy, was at the head of a large body of 
 tried and disciplined troops, in tlie best condition, 
 and supported by the powerful arm of artillery. 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 197 
 
 He effected the passage of the Spey, a large and 
 rapid river which intersects tjie Highlands, without 
 encountering any opposition, and on the 15th of the 
 month had arrived at Nairn, about nine miles dis- 
 tant from the position occupied by his kinsman and 
 opponent. His superiority in point of strength was 
 so great that the boldest of the insurgent chiefs 
 hesitated as to the policy of giving immediate battle ; 
 and nothing but the desire of covering Inverness 
 prevented the council from recommending a further 
 retreat into the mountains, where they could not 
 have been easily followed, and where they were 
 certain to have met with reinforcements. As to the 
 Prince, his confidence in the prowess of the High- 
 landers was so unbounded, that, even with such 
 
 odds against him, he would not listen to a proposal 
 for delay. 
 
 There yet remained, says Mr. Chambers, before 
 playing the great stake of a pitched battle, one 
 chance of success, by the irregular mode of warfare 
 to which the army was accustomed; and Charles 
 resolved to put it to trial. This was a night-attack 
 
198 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 upon the camp of the Duke of Cumberland. He 
 rightly argued, that if his men could approach with- 
 out being discovered, and make a simultaneous attack 
 in more than one place, the royal forces, then pro- 
 bably either engaged in drinking their commander's 
 health, (the 15th happened to be the anniversary of 
 the Duke's birth-day, and was celebrated as such by 
 his army,) or sleeping oif the effects of the debauch, 
 must be completely surprised and cut to pieces, or 
 at least effectually routed. The time appointed for 
 setting out upon the march was eight in the evening, 
 when daylight should have completely disappeared; 
 and, in the mean time, great pains were taken to 
 conceal the secret from the army. 
 
 This resolution was entered into at three in the 
 • afternoon, and orders were given to collect the men 
 who had gone off in search of provisions. The 
 officers dispersed themselves to Inverness and other 
 places, and besought the stragglers to repair to the 
 muir. But, under the influence of hunger, they told 
 their commanders to shoot them if they pleased, 
 rather than compel them to starve any longer. 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 199 
 
 Charles had previously declared, with his character- 
 istic fervor, that though only a thousand of his men 
 should accompany him, he would lead them on to 
 the attack ; and he was not now intimidated when 
 he saw twice that number ready to assist in the 
 enterprise ; though some of his officers would wil- 
 lingly have made this deficiency of troops an excuse 
 for abandoning what they esteemed at best a 
 hazardous expedition. Having given out for watch- 
 word the name of his father, he embraced Lord 
 George Murray, who was to command the foremost 
 column, and putting himself at the head of that 
 which followed, gave the order to march. 
 
 The attempt proved peculiarly unfortunate, and 
 from the fatigue which it occasioned to the High- 
 landers, contributed in a great degree towards the 
 disaster of the following day. The night chanced 
 to be uncommonly dark, and as it was well known 
 that Cumberland had stationed spies on the prin- 
 cipal roads, it became necessary to select a devious 
 route, in order to effect a surprise. The columns, 
 proceeding over broken and irregular ground, soon 
 
200 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 became scattered and dislocated ; no exertions of 
 the officers could keep the men together, so that 
 Lord George Murray at two o'clock found that he 
 was still distant three miles from the hostile camp, 
 and that there were no hopes of commencing the 
 attack before the break of day, when they would 
 be open to the observation of the enemy. Under 
 these circumstances a retreat was commenced: 
 and the scheme, which at one time seemed to 
 hold out every probability of success, was aban- 
 doned. 
 
 " The Highlanders returned, fatigued and discon- 
 solate, to their former position, about seven in the 
 morning, when they immediately addressed them- 
 selves to sleep, or went away in search of provisions. 
 So scarce was food at this critical juncture, that the 
 Prince himself, on retiring to Culloden House, could 
 obtain no better refreshment than a little bread and 
 whisky. He felt the utmost anxiety regarding his 
 men, among whom the pangs of hunger, upon bodies 
 exhausted by fatigue must have been working effects 
 most unpromising to his success; and he gave 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 201 
 
 orders, before seeking any repose, that the whole 
 country should now be mercilessly ransacked for the 
 means of refreshment. His orders were not without 
 effect. Considerable supplies were procured, and 
 subjected to the cook's art at Inverness; but the 
 poor famished clansmen were destined never to 
 taste these provisions, the hour of battle arriving 
 before they were prepared." 
 
 About eleven in the forenoon, the troops of Cum- 
 berland were observed upon the eastern extremity 
 of the wide muir of Culloden, and preparations 
 were instantly made for the coming battle. The 
 army had been strengthened that morning by the 
 arrival of the Keppoch Macdonalds and a party of 
 the Frasers ; but, even with these reinforcements, 
 the whole available force which the Prince could 
 muster was about five thousand men, to oppose at 
 fearful odds an enemy twice as numerous, and 
 heavily supported by artillery. Fortune on this day 
 seemed to have deserted the Prince altogether. In 
 drawing out the line of battle, a most unlucky 
 
 arrangement was made by O'Sullivan, who acted as 
 9* 
 
202 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 adjutant, whereby the Macdonald regiments were 
 removed from the right wing — the place which the 
 great clan Colla has been privileged to hold in 
 Scottish array ever since the auspicious battle of 
 Bannockburn. To those who are not acquainted 
 with the peculiar temper and spirit of the High- 
 landers, and their punctilio upon points of honor 
 and precedence, the question of arrangement will 
 naturally appear a matter of little importance. Bat 
 it was not so felt by the Macdonalds, who considered 
 their change of position as a positive degradation, 
 and who further looked upon it as an evil omen to 
 the success of the battle. The results of this mis- 
 take will be noticed immediately. 
 
 Just before the commencement of the action, the 
 weather, which had hitherto been fair and sunny, 
 became overcast, and a heavy blast of rain and sleet 
 beat directly in the faces of the Highlanders. The 
 English artillery then began to play upon them, 
 and, being admirably served, every discharge told 
 with fearful effect upon the ranks. The chief object 
 of either party at the battle of Culloden seems to 
 
 1 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 203 
 
 have been to force its opponent to leave his position, 
 and to commence the attack. Cumherland, jEinding 
 that his artillery was doing such execution, had no 
 occasion to move ; and Charles appears to have 
 committed a great error in abandoning a mode of 
 warfare which was peculiarly suited for his troops, 
 and which on two previous occasions had proved 
 eminently successful. Had he at once ordered a 
 general charge, and attempted to silence the guns, 
 the issue of the day might have been otherwise: 
 but his unfortunate star prevailed. 
 
 "It was not," says Mr. Chambers, "till the 
 cannonade had continued nearly half an hour, and 
 the Highlanders had seen many of their kindred 
 stretched upon the heath, that Charles at last gave 
 way to the necessity of ordering a charge. The 
 aide-de-camp intrusted to carry his message to the 
 lieutenant-general — a youth of the name of Mac- 
 lachlan — was killed by a cannon-ball before he 
 reached the first line ; but the general sentiment of 
 the army, as reported to Lord George Murray, sup- 
 plied the want, and that general took it upon him 
 
204 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 to order an attack without Charles's permission 
 having been communicated. 
 
 "Lord George had scarcely determined upon 
 ordering a general movement, when the Macintoshes, 
 a brave and devoted clan, though not before en- 
 gaged in action, unable any longer to brook the 
 unavenged slaughter made by the cannon, broke 
 from the centre of the line, and rushed forward 
 through smoke and snow to mingle with the enemy. 
 The Athole men, Camerons, Stuarts, Erasers, and 
 Macleans, also went on ; Lord George Murray 
 heading them with that rash bravery befitting the 
 commander of such forces. Thus, in the course of 
 one or two minutes, the charge was general along 
 the whole line, except at the left extremity, where 
 the Macdonalds, dissatisfied with their jDosition, 
 hesitated to engage. 
 
 "The action and event of the onset were, through- 
 out, quite as dreadful as the mental emotion which 
 urged it. Notwithstanding that the three files of 
 the front line of English poured forth their inces- 
 sant fire of musketry — notwithstanding that the 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 205 
 
 cannon, now loaded with grapeshot, swept the field 
 as with a hail-storm — notwithstanding the flank 
 fire of Wolfe's regiment — onward, onward went 
 the headlong Highlanders, flinging themselves into, 
 rather than rushing upon, the lines of the enemy, 
 which, indeed, they did not see for smoke, till in- 
 volved among the weapons. All that courage, all 
 that despair could do, was done. It was a moment 
 of dreadful and agonizing suspense, but only a mo- 
 ment — for the whirlwind does not reap the forest 
 with greater rapidity than the Highlanders cleared 
 the line. Nevertheless, almost every man in their 
 front rank, chief and gentleman, fell before the 
 deadly weapons which they had braved; and al- 
 though the enemy gave way, it was not till every 
 bayonet was bent and bloody with-the strife. 
 
 " When the first line had thus been swept aside, 
 the. assailants continued their impetuous advance, 
 till they came near the second, when, being almost 
 annihilated by a profuse and well-directed fire, the 
 shattered remains of what had been before a numer- 
 ous and confident force began to give way. Still 
 
206 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 a few rushed on, resolved rather to die than 
 forfeit their well acquired and dearly estimated 
 honor. They rushed on; but not a man ever 
 came in contact with the enemy. The last sur- 
 vivor perished as he reached the points of the 
 bayonets." 
 
 Some idea of the determination displayed by the 
 Highlanders in this terrific charge may be gathered 
 from the fact that, in one part of the field, their 
 bodies were afterwards found in layers of three and 
 four deep. The slaughter was fearful, for, out of the 
 five regiments which charged the English, almost all 
 the leaders and men in the front rank were killed. 
 So shaken was the English line,- that, had the Mac- 
 donald regiments, well known to yield in valor to 
 none of the clans, come uj), the fortune of the day 
 might have been altered. But they never made an 
 onset. Smarting and sullen at the affront which 
 they conceived to have been put upon their name, 
 they bore the fire of the English regiments without 
 flinching, and gave way to their rage by hewing at 
 the heather with their swords. In vain their chiefs 
 
CHARLES ED^'ARD AT VERSAILLES. 207 
 
 exhorted them to go forward ; even at that terrible 
 moment the pride of clanship prevailed. " My 
 God !^ cried Macdouald of Keppoch, " has it come 
 to this, that the children of my tribe have forsaken 
 me !" and he rushed forward alone, sword in hand, 
 with the devotion of an ancient hero, and fell pierced 
 with bullets. 
 
 The Lowland and foreign troops which formed 
 the second line were powerless to retrieve the 
 disaster. All was over. The rout became general, 
 and the Prince was forced from the field, which he 
 would not quit until dragged from it by his imme- 
 diate body-guard. 
 
 Such was the last battle, the result of civil war, 
 which has been fouo;ht on British soil. Those who 
 were defeated have acquired as much glory from it 
 as the conquerors — and even more, for never was a 
 conquest sullied by such deeds of deliberate cruelty 
 as were perpetrated upon the survivors of the battle 
 of CuUoden. It is not, however, the object of the 
 present paper to recount these, or even the roman- 
 tic history and hair-breadth escapes of the Prince, 
 
208 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 whilst wandering on the mainland and through the 
 Hebrides. Although a reward of thirty thousand 
 pounds — an immense sum for the period — was set 
 upon his head — although his secret was known to 
 hundreds of persons in every walk of life, and even 
 to the beggar and the outlaw — not one attempted to 
 betray him. Not one of all his followers, in the 
 midst of the misery which overtook them, regretted 
 having drawn the sword in his cause, or would not 
 again have gladly imperilled their lives for the sake 
 of their beloved Chevalier. " He went," says Lord 
 Mahon, " but not with him departed his remem- 
 brance from the Highlanders. For years and years 
 did his name continue enshrined in their hearts and 
 familiar to their tongues, their plaintive ditties re- 
 sounding with his exploits and inviting his return. 
 Again, in these strains, do they declare tTiemselves 
 ready to risk life and fortune for his cause ; and even 
 maternal fondness — the strongest, perhaps, of all 
 human feelings — yields to the passionate devotion 
 to Prince Charlie." 
 
 The subsequent life of the Prince is a story of 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 209 
 
 melancholy interest. We find him at first received in 
 France with all the honors due to one who, though 
 unforiunate, had exhibited a heroism rarely equalled 
 and never surpassed : gradually he was neglected 
 and slighted, as one of a doomed and unhappy race, 
 whom no human exertion could avail to elevate 
 to their former seat of power ; and finally, when 
 his presence in France became an obstacle to the 
 conclusion of peace, he was violently arrested and 
 conveyed out of the kingdom. There can be little 
 doubt that continued misfortune and disappointment 
 had begun very early to imjDaii: his noble mind. 
 For long periods he was a wanderer, lost sight of by 
 his friends and even by his father and brother. 
 There are fragments of his writing extant which 
 show how poignantly he felt the cruelty of his 
 fortune. " De vivre et pas vivre est beaucoup plus 
 que de mourir!" And again, writing to his father's 
 secretary, eight years after Culloden, he says — "I 
 am grieved that our master should think that my 
 silence was either neglect or want of duty ; but, in 
 reality, my situation is such that I have nothing to 
 
210 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 say but imprecations against the fatality of being 
 born in such a detestable age." An unhappy and 
 uncongenial marriage tended still more to embitter 
 his existence; and if at last he yielded to frailties 
 which inevitably insure degradation, it must be 
 remembered that his lot had been one to which few 
 men have ever been exposed, and the magnitude 
 of his sufferings may fairly be admitted as some 
 palliation for his weakness. 
 
 To the last, his heart was with Scotland. The 
 following anecdote was related by his brother 
 Cardinal York, to. Bishop Walker, the late Primus 
 of the Episcopal Church of Scotland : — " Mr. Great- 
 head, a personal friend of Mr. Fox, succeeded, when 
 at Rome in 1782 or 1783, in obtaining an interview 
 with Charles Edward ; and, being alone with him 
 for some time, studiously led the conversation to his 
 enterprise in Scotland, and to the occurrences which 
 succeeded the failure of that attempt. The Prince 
 manifested some reluctance to enter upon these 
 topics, appearing at the same time to undergo so 
 much mental suffering, that his guest regretted the 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 211 
 
 freedom he had used in calling up the remembrance 
 of his misfortunes. At length, however, the Prince 
 seemed to shake off the load which oppressed him ; 
 his eye brightened., his face assumed unwonted ani- 
 mation, and he entered upon the narrative of his 
 Scottish campaigns with a distinct but somewhat 
 vehement energy of manner — recounted his marches, 
 his battles, his victories, his retreats, and his defeats 
 — detailed his hair-breadth escapes in the Western 
 Isles, the inviolable and devoted attachment of his 
 Highland friends, and at length proceeded to allude 
 to the terrible penalties with which the chiefs among 
 them had been visited. But here the tide of emo- 
 tion rose too high to allow him to go on — his voice 
 faltered, his eyes became fixed, and he fell con- 
 vulsed on the floor. The noise brought into his 
 room his daughter, the Duchess of Albany, who 
 happened to be in an adjoining apartment. ' Sir,' 
 she exclaimed, ' what is this % You have been 
 speaking to my father about Scotland and the 
 Highlanders ! No one dares to mention those 
 subjects in his presence.' " 
 
212 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 He died on the 30th of January, 1788, in the 
 arms of the Master of Nairn. The monument 
 erected to him, his father, and brother, in St. Peter's, 
 by desire of George IV., was perhaps the most 
 graceful tribute ever paid by royalty to mis- 
 fortune — Regio cineri Pietas Regia. 
 
CHARLES EDWARD 
 
 AT 
 
 VERSAILLES 
 ON" THE ANNIVERSARY OF CULLODEN. 
 
 Take away that star and garter — 
 
 Hide them from my achmg sight ! 
 Neither king nor prince shall tempt me 
 
 From my lonely room this night. 
 Fitting for the throneless exile 
 
 Is the atmosphere of pall, 
 And the gusty winds that shiver 
 
 'Neath the tapestry on the wall ; 
 
214 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 When the taper faintly dwindles 
 
 Like the pulse within the vein, 
 That to gay and merry measure 
 
 Ne'er may hope to bound again. 
 Let the shadows gather round me 
 
 While I sit in silence here, 
 Broken-hearted as an orphan 
 
 Watching by his father's bier. 
 Let me hold my still communion 
 
 Far from every earthly sound — 
 Day of penance — day of passion — 
 
 Ever, as the year comes round : 
 Fatal day ! whereon the latest 
 
 Die was cast for me and mine — 
 Cruel day, that quelled the fortunes 
 
 Of the hapless Stuart line ! 
 Phantom-like, as in a mirror. 
 
 Rise the grisly scenes of death — 
 There before me in its wildness. 
 
 Stretches bare Culloden's heath : 
 There the broken clans are scattered, 
 
 Gaunt as wolves, and famine-eyed, 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 215 
 
 Hunger gnawing at their vitals, 
 
 Hope abandoned, all but pride — 
 Pride — and that supreme devotion 
 
 Which the southron never knew, 
 And the hati*ed, deeply rankling, 
 
 'Gainst the Hanoverian crew. 
 Oh, my God ! are these the remnants, 
 
 These the wrecks of the array. 
 That around the royal standard 
 
 Gathered on the glorious day, 
 When in deep Glenfinnan's valley, 
 
 Thousands on their bended knees 
 Saw once more that stately ensign. 
 
 Waving in the northern breeze! 
 When the noble Tullibardine 
 
 Stood beneath its weltering fold, 
 With the Ruddy Lion ramping 
 
 In its field of tressured gold ! 
 When the mighty heart of Scotland, 
 
 All too big to slumber more, 
 Burst in wrath and exultation, 
 
 Like a huge volcano's roar ! 
 
216 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 There they stand, the battered columns, 
 
 Underneath the murky sky, 
 In the hush of desperation, 
 
 Not to conquer, but to die. 
 Hark ! the bagpipe's fitful wailing : 
 
 Not the pibroch loud and shrill, 
 That, with hope of bloody banquet, 
 
 Lured the ravens from the hill, — 
 But a dirge both low and solemn, 
 
 Fit for ears of dying men, 
 Marshalled for their latest battle. 
 
 Never more to fight again. 
 Madness — madness ! Why this shrinking ? 
 
 Were we less inured to war 
 When our reapers swept the harvest 
 
 From the field of red Dunbar ? 
 Bring my horse, and blow the trumpet ! 
 
 Call the riders of Fitz-James : 
 Let Lord Jervis head the column ! 
 
 Valiant chiefs of mighty names — 
 Trusty Keppoch ! stout Glengarry ! 
 
 Gallant Gordon ! wise Locheill ! — 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 217 
 
 Bid the clansmen hold together, 
 
 Fast and fell, and firm as steel. 
 IJicho ! never look so gloomy — 
 
 What avails a saddened brow '? 
 Heart, man ! heart ! — We need it sorely, 
 
 Never half so much as now. 
 Had we but a thousand troopers. 
 
 Had we but a thousand more ! 
 Noble Perth, I hear them coming ! — 
 
 Hark ! the English cannons' roar. 
 God ! how awful sounds that volley. 
 
 Bellowing through the mist and rain ! 
 Was not that the Iliohland sloo;an 1 
 
 Let me hear that shout again ! 
 Oh, for prophet eyes to witness 
 
 How the desperate battle goes ! 
 Cumberland ! I w^ould not fear thee, 
 
 Could my Camerons see their foes. 
 Sound, I say, the charge at venture — 
 
 'Tis not naked steel we fear : 
 
 Better perish in the melee 
 
 ' Than be shot like driven deer ! 
 10 
 
218 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Hold ! the mist begins to scatter ! 
 
 There in front 'tis rent asunder, 
 And the cloudy bastion crumbles 
 
 Underneath the deafening thunder. 
 There I see the scarlet gleaming ! 
 
 Now, Macdonald, — now or never ! — 
 ^Yo is me, the clans are broken ! 
 
 Father, thou art lost for ever ! 
 Chief and vassal, lord and yeoman, 
 
 There they lie in heaps together, 
 Smitten by the deadly volley. 
 
 Rolled in blood upon the heather ; 
 
 And the Hanoverian horsemen, 
 
 Fiercely riding to and fro, 
 Deal their murderous strokes at random- 
 
 Ah, my God ! where am I nowl 
 
 Will that baleful vision never 
 Vanish from my aching sight 1 
 
 Must those scenes and sounds of terror 
 Haunt me still by day and night ? 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 219 
 
 Yea ! the earth hath no oblivion 
 
 For the noblest chance it gave, 
 JNFone, save in its latest refuge — 
 
 Seek it onlv in the o-rave ! 
 Love may die, and hatred slumber, 
 
 And their memory will decay, 
 As the watered garden recks not 
 
 Of the drought of yesterday ; 
 But the dream of power once broken, 
 
 What shall give repose again 1 
 What shall charm the serpent-furies 
 
 Coiled around the maddening brain 1 
 What kind draught can nature offer 
 
 Strong enough to lull their sting ? 
 Better to be born a peasant 
 
 Than to live an exiled king ! 
 Oh, these years of bitter anguish ! — 
 
 What is life, to such as me, 
 With my very heart as palsied 
 
 As a wasted cripple's knee ! 
 Suppliant-like for alms depending 
 
 On a false and foreign court ; 
 
220 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Jostled by the flouting nobles, 
 
 Half their pity, half their sport. 
 Forced to hold a place in pageant, 
 
 Like a royal prize of war, 
 Walking with dejected features 
 
 Close behind his victor's car ; 
 Styled an equal— deemed a servant — 
 
 Fed with hopes of future gain : 
 Worse by far is fancied freedom 
 
 Than the captive's clanking chain ! 
 Could I change this gilded bondage 
 
 Even for the dusky tower. 
 Whence King James beheld his lady 
 
 Sitting ill the castle bower ; 
 Birds around her sweetly singing, 
 
 Fluttering on the kindled spray. 
 And the comely garden glowing 
 
 In the light of rosy May. 
 Love descended to the window — * 
 
 Love removed the bolt and bar — 
 Love was warder to the lovers 
 
 From the dawn to even-star. 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 221 
 
 Wherefore, Love ! cliclst thou betray me 1 
 
 Where is now the tender glance — 
 , Where the meanhig looks once lavished 
 
 By the dark-eyed maid of France? 
 Where the words of hope she wliispered, 
 
 When around my neck she threw 
 That same scarf of broidered tissue, 
 
 Bade me wear it and be true — 
 Bade me send it as a token 
 
 When my banner waved once more 
 On the castled Keep of London, 
 
 Where my fathers' waved before ? 
 And I went and did not conquer — ■ 
 
 But I brousjht it back asjain — 
 Brought it back from storm and battle — 
 
 Brought it back without a stain ; 
 And once more I knelt before her, 
 
 And I laid it at her f3et, 
 Saying, " Wilt thou own it, Princess 1 
 
 There at least is no defeat !" 
 Scornfully she looked upon me 
 
 With a measured eye and cold — 
 
222 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 Scornfully she vie^Yed the token, 
 
 Though her fingers wrought the gold ; 
 And she answered fahitly flushing, 
 
 " Hast thou kept it, then, so long ? 
 Worthy matter for a minstrel 
 
 To Le told in knightly song ! 
 Worthy of a bold Provencal, 
 
 Pacing through the peaceful plain, 
 Singing of his lady's favor. 
 
 Boasting of her silken chain — 
 Yet scarce worthy of a warrior 
 
 Sent to wrestle for a crown. 
 Is this all that thou hast brought me 
 
 From thy fields of high renown ? 
 Is this all the trophy carried 
 
 From the lands where thou hast been 1 
 It was broidered by a Princess, 
 
 Canst thou give it to a Queen f 
 
 Woman's love is writ in water ! 
 
 Woman's fxith is traced on sand! — 
 
CHARLES ED-WARD AT VERSAILLES. 223 
 
 Backwards — backwards let me wander 
 
 To the noble northern land : 
 I^et me feel the breezes blowing 
 
 Fresh along the mountain-side ! 
 Let me see the purple heather, 
 
 Let me hear the thundering tide, 
 Be it hoarse as Corrievreckan 
 
 Spoutino; when the storm is hisrh — 
 Give me but one hour of Scotland — 
 
 Let me see it ere I die ! 
 Oh ! my heart is sick and heavy. — 
 
 Southern gales are not for me ; 
 Though the glens are white with winter, 
 
 Place me there, and set me free. 
 Give me back my trusty comrades — 
 
 Give me back my Highland maid — 
 Nowhere beats the heart so kindly 
 
 As beneath the tartan plaid ! 
 Flora ! when thou wert beside me. 
 
 In the wilds of far Kintail — 
 When the cavern gave us shelter 
 
 From the blindinsr sleet and hail — 
 
224 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 When we lurked within the thicket, 
 
 And, beneath the waning moon, 
 Saw the sentry's bayonet glimmer, 
 
 Heard him chaunt his listless tune — 
 When the howling storm overtook us, 
 
 Drifting down the island's lee, 
 And our crazy bark was whirlinor 
 
 Like a nutshell on the sea — 
 When the nights were dark and dreary, 
 
 And amidst the fern we lay, 
 Faint and foodless, sore with travel, 
 
 Waiting for the streaks of day ; 
 When thou wert an angel to me, 
 
 Watching my exhausted sleep — 
 Never didst thou hear me murmur — 
 
 Couldst thou see how now I weep ! 
 Bitter tears and sobs of anguish, 
 
 Unavailing though they be. 
 Oh ! the brave — the brave and noble — 
 
 That have died in vain for me ! 
 
NOTES TO ''CHAKLES EDWAKD AT VEESAILLES." 
 
 "Could I change this gilded bondage ■ 
 Even for the dusky toioer 
 Whence King James beheld his lady 
 Sitting in the castle boioer." — P. 220. 
 
 James I. of Scotland, one of the most accomplished kings 
 that ever sat upon a throne, is the person here indicated. His 
 history is a very strange and romantic one. He was son of 
 Robert III, and immediate younger brother of that unhappy 
 Duke of Rotliesay, .who was murdered at Falkland. His 
 father, apprehensive of the designs and treachery of Albany, 
 had determined to remove him, when a mere boy, for a season 
 from Scotland ; and as France was then considered the best 
 school for the education of one so important from his high po- 
 sition, it was resolved to send him thither, under the care of 
 the Earl of Orkney and Fleming, of Cumbernauld. He ac- 
 cordingly embarked at jSTorth Berwick, with little escort — as 
 there was a truce for the time between England and Scotland, 
 and they were under no apprehension of meeting with any 
 vessels, save those of the former nation. Notwithstanding 
 this, the fchip which carried the Prince was captured by an 
 armed merchantman, and can-ied to London, where Henry IV., 
 the usurping Bolingbroke, utterly regardless of treaties, com- 
 mitted him and his attendants to the Tower. 
 
 10* • 
 
220 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 " In vain," says Mr. Ty tier, " did the guardians of the young 
 Prince remonstrate against this cruelty, or present to Henry a 
 letter from the King, his fatlier, "which, with much simplicity, 
 recommended him to the kindness of the English monarch, 
 should he find it necessary to land in his dominions. In vain 
 did they represent that tlie mission to France was perfectly 
 pacific, and its only object the education of the Prince at the 
 French court. Henry merely answered by a poor witticism, 
 declaring that he himself tnew the French language indiffer- 
 ently well, and that his father could not have sent him to a 
 better master. So flagrant a breach of the law of nations, 
 as the seizure and imprisonment of the lieir-apparent, during 
 the time of truce, would have called for the most violent 
 remonstrances from any government except that of Albany. 
 But to this usuiper of the supreme power, the capture of the 
 Prince was the most grateful event which could have hap- 
 pened ; and to detain him in captivity became, from this mo- 
 ment, one of the principal objects of his future life : we are 
 not to wondei-, then, that the conduct of Henr^^- not only 
 drew forth no indignation from the governor, but was not 
 even followed by any request that the Prince should be set at 
 liberty. 
 
 " The aged King, already worn out by infirmity, and now- 
 broken by disappointment and sorrow, did not long survive 
 the captivity of his son. It is said the melancholy news were 
 brouglit him as he was sitting down to supper in his palace 
 of Rotliesay,in Bute, and that the effect was such upon his 
 affectionate but feeble spirit, that he drooped from that day 
 forward, refused all sustenance, and died soon after of a broken 
 heart." 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 227 
 
 James was finally incarcerated in "Windsor Castle, where he 
 endured an imprisonment of nineteen years. Henry, though 
 he had not liesitated to commit a heinous breach of faith, was 
 not SQjcruel as to neglect the education of his captive. The 
 yotmg king was supplied with the best masters ; and gradually 
 became an adept in all the accomphshments of the age. He 
 is a singular exception from the rule which maintains that 
 monarchs are indifferent authors. As a poet, he is entitled to 
 a very high rank indeed — being, I think, in point of sweetness 
 and melody of verse, not much inferior to Chaucer. From the 
 window of his chamber in the Tower, he had often seen a 
 young lady, of great beauty and grace, walking in the gar- 
 den; and the admiration wliich at once possessed him soon 
 ripened into love. This was Lady Jane Beaufort, daughter of 
 the Earl of Somerset, a niece of Henry IV., and who after- 
 wards became his queen. How he loved, and how he wooed 
 her, is told in his own beautiful poem of " The King's Quhair," 
 of which the following are a few stanzas : — 
 
 *' Now there was' made, fast by the towris wall, 
 
 ''*■'■%" *■ 
 A garden fair ; ana-in the corners set 
 
 An arbour green, with waiidis loiig and small 
 
 Eailed about, and so with trees set 
 
 Was all the place, and hawthorn hedges knet, 
 
 That lyf was none walking there forbye. 
 
 That might within scarce any wight espy. 
 
 " So thick the bouguis and the leavis greene 
 Beshaded all the alleys that there were. 
 And mids of eveiy arbour might be seen 
 The shurpe, ereen, sweet juniper, 
 Growing so fair, with branches here and there, 
 
228 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAYALIERS. 
 
 That, as it seemed to a lyf without, 
 The ooughis spread the arbour all about. 
 
 *' Aud on the sinalle grcene twistis sat 
 The little sweete nightingale, and sung 
 So loud and clear the hymnis oonsecrat 
 Of lovis use, now soft, now loud among, 
 That all the gardens and the wallis rung 
 • Eight of their song. 
 
 " And tlierewith cast I down mine eyes again, 
 "Whereat I saw, walking under the tower, 
 Full secretly, now comen here to plain, 
 The fairest or the freshest younge flower 
 That e'er I saw, methought, before that Iiour : 
 For which sudden abate, anon astart 
 The blood of all my body to my heart. 
 
 "And though I stood abasit for a lite, 
 Xo wonder was ; for why ? my wittis all 
 Were so o'ercorae with pleasance and delight — 
 Only through letting of my eyen fall — 
 That suddenly my heart became h.er tin-all 
 For ever of free will, for of menace 
 There was no token in her sweete flice." 
 
 " Wherefore, love ! didst thou betray me ? 
 Where is now the tender glance — 
 Where the weaiiing looJ.'s once lavished 
 By the dark-eyed Maid of France r — P. 221. 
 
 There appears to be no doubt that Prince Charles was 
 deeply attached to one of tlie princesses of the royal family 
 
CHARLES EDWARD AT VERSAILLES. 229 
 
 of France. In the interesting collection called " Jacobite Me- 
 moirs," compiled by Mr. Chambers from the voluminous MSS. 
 of Bishop Forbes, we find the following passage from the nar- 
 rative of Donald Macleod, who acted as a ffuide to the wan- 
 derer whilst traversing the Hebrides : — " "When Donald was 
 asked, if ever the Prince used to give any particular toast, 
 when they vfeve. taking a cup of cold water, or the like ; he 
 said that the Prince very often drank to the Black Eye — by 
 •which, said Donald, he meant the second daughter of France, 
 and I never heard him name any particular health but that 
 alone. When he spoke of that lady — which he did frequent- 
 ly — he appeared to be more than ordinarily well pleased," 
 
V 
 
 ..*. 
 
THE 
 
 OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 
 
 The " o[entle Lochiell " mav be considered as the 
 pattern of a Highland Chief. Others who headed 
 the insurrection may have been actuated by motives 
 of personal ambition, and by a desire for aggrandise- 
 ment ; but no such charge can be made against the 
 generous and devoted Cameron. He was, as we have 
 already seen, the first who attempted to dissuade the 
 Prince fj-om embarking in an enterprise which he 
 conscientiously believed to be desperate ; but, having 
 failed in doing so, he nobly stood firm to the cause 
 which his conscience vindicated as just, and cheer- 
 
2o5i LAYS or TIIS SC0TTI3H CAVALIERS. 
 
 fully imperilled his life, and sacrificed his fortune, 
 at the bidding of his master. There was no one, 
 even among those who espoused the other side, in 
 Scotland, who did not commiserate the misfortunes 
 of this truly excellent man, whose humanity was 
 not less conspicuous than his A^alor throughout the 
 civil v»ar, and who died in exile of a broken heart. 
 
 Perhaps the best type of the Lowland Cavalier of 
 that period, may be found in the person of Alexander 
 Forbes, Lord Pitsligo, a nobleman whose conscien- 
 tious views impelled him to take a different side 
 from that adopted by the greater part of his house 
 and name. Lord Forbes, the head of this very 
 ancient and honorable family, was one of the first 
 Scottish noblemen who declared for King William. 
 Lord Pitsligo, on the contrary, having been educated 
 abroad, and early introduced to the circle at Saint 
 Germains, conceived a deep j^ersonal attachment to 
 the members of the exiled line. He was anything 
 but an enthusiast, as his philosophical and religious 
 writings, well worthy of a perusal, will show. He 
 was the intimate friend of Fenelon, and throughout 
 
THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 233 
 
 his whole life was remarkable rather for his piety 
 and virtue, than for keenness in political dispute. 
 
 After his return from France, Lord Pitsligo took 
 his seat in the Scottish Parliament, and his parlia- 
 mentary cpreer has thus heen characterised by a for- 
 mer writer.* " Here it is no discredit either to his 
 head or heart to say, that obliged to become a mem- 
 ber of one of the contending factions of the time, he 
 adopted that which had for its object the indepen- 
 dence of Scotland, and restoration of the ancient race 
 of monarchs. The advantages which were in future 
 to arise from the great measure of a national union 
 were so hidden by the mists of prejudice, that it 
 cannot be wondered at if Lord Pitsligo, like many 
 a high-spirited man, saw nothing but disgrace in 
 a measure forced on by such corrupt means, and 
 calling in its commencement for such mortifying 
 national sacrifices. The English nation, indeed, 
 with a narrow, yet not unnatural, view of their own 
 interest, took such pains to encumber and restrict 
 
 * See Blackwood's Magazine for May, 1829. — Article, "Lord 
 Pitslk-o." 
 
234 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 the Scottish commercial privileges, that it was not 
 till the best part of a century after the event that 
 the inestimable fruits of the treaty began to be felt 
 and known. This distant period Lord Pitsligo could 
 not foresee. lie beheld his countrymen, like the 
 Israelites of yore, led into the desert ; but his 
 merely human eye could not foresee that, after the 
 extinction of a whole race — after a longer pilgri- 
 mage than that of the followers of Moses — the 
 Scottish people should at length arrive at that 
 promised land, of which the favorers of the Union 
 held forth so gay a prospect. 
 
 " Looking upon the Act of Settlement of the 
 Crown, and the Act of Abjuration, as unlawful, Lord 
 Pitsligo retired to his house in the country, and 
 threw up attendance on Parliament. Upon the death 
 of Queen Anne, he joined himself in arms with a gen- 
 eral insurrection of the Highlanders and Jacobites, 
 headed by his friend and relative the Earl of Mar. 
 
 " Mar, a versatile statesman and an able intriguer, 
 had consulted his ambition I'ather than his talents 
 when he assumed the command of such an enterprise. 
 
THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 235 
 
 He sank l3eneatli the far superior genius of the 
 Duke of Argyle ; and, after the undecisive battle of 
 Sheriffniuir, the confederacy which he had formed 
 l)ut was unable to direct, dissolved like a snowball, 
 and the nobles concerned in it were fain to fly abroad. 
 This exile was Lord Pitsligo's fate for five or six 
 years. Part of the time he spent at the Court, if it 
 can be called so, of the old Chevalier de Saint 
 George, where existed all the petty feuds, chicanery, 
 and crooked intrigues which subsist in a real scene 
 of the same character, although the objects of the 
 ambition which prompts such arts had no existence. 
 Men seemed to play at being courtiers in that 
 illusory court, as children play at being soldiers." 
 
 It would appear that Lord Pitsligo was not attaint- 
 ed for his share in Mar's rebellion. He returned 
 to Scotland in 1720, and resided at his castle in 
 Aberdeenshire, not mingling in ^Dublic affairs, but 
 gaining through his charity, kindness, and benevo- 
 lence, the respect and affection of all around him. 
 He was sixty-seven years of age when Charles 
 Edward landed in Scotland. The district in which 
 
236 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 /^ 
 
 the estates of Lord Pitsligo lay was essentially 
 Jacobite, and the young cavaliers only waited for a 
 fitting leader to take up arms in the cause. Accord- 
 ing to Mr. Home, his example was decisive of the 
 movement of his neiirhbors : " So when he who 
 w\as so wise and prudent declared his purpose of 
 joining Charles, most of the gentlemen in that part 
 of the country who favored the Pretender's cause, 
 put themselves under his command, thinking they 
 could not follow a Ijctter or safer guide than Lord 
 Pitsligo." His Lordbhip's own account of the 
 motives which urged him on is peculiar : — " I was 
 grown a little old, and the fear of ridicule stuck to 
 me pretty much. I have mentioned the weightier 
 considerations of a family, which would make the 
 censure still the greater, and set the more tongues 
 agoing. But we are pushed on, I know not how: 
 I thought — I weighed — and I weighed again. If 
 there was any enthusiasm in it, it was of the coldest 
 kind ; and there was as little remorse when the 
 affair miscarried, as there was eagerness at the 
 beginning." 
 
THE -il D SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 237 
 
 The writer wliom I have already quoted goes on 
 to say — " To those friends who recalled his misfor- 
 tunes Qf 1715, he replied gaily, 'Did you ever 
 know me absent at the second day of a wedding'?' 
 meaning, I suppose, that having once contracted an 
 engagement, he did not feel entitled to quit it while 
 the contest subsisted. Being invited by the gentle- 
 men of the district to put himself at their head, and 
 having surmounted his ov/n desires, he had made a 
 flirewell visit at a neighbor's house, where a little 
 boy, a child of the family, brought out a stool to 
 assist the old nobleman in remounting his horse. 
 ' My little fellow,' said Lord Pitsligo, ' this is the 
 severest ]-ebuke 1 have yet received, for presuming 
 to go on such an expedition.' 
 
 " The die was however cast, and Lord Pitsligo 
 went to meet his friends at the rendezvous they had 
 appointed in Aberdeen. They formed a body of 
 well-armed cavalry, gentlemen and their servants, to 
 the number of a hundred men. When they were 
 drawn up in readiness to commence the expedition, 
 the venerable nobleman their leader moved to their 
 
238 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS, 
 
 front, lifted his hat, and, looking up to heaven, pro- 
 nounced, with a solemn voice, the awful appeal, — 
 'O Lord, thou knoAvest that our cause is just!' 
 then added the signal for departure — 'March, 
 
 gentlemen !' 
 
 " Lord Pitsligo, with his followers, found Charles 
 
 at Edinburgh, on 8th October, 1745, a few days after 
 the Highlanders' victory at Preston. Their arrival 
 was hailed with enthusiasm, not only on account of 
 the timel}' reinforcements, but more especially from 
 the high character of their leader. Hamilton of 
 Bangour, in an animated and elocpient eulogiuin 
 upon Pitsligo, states that nothing could have fallen 
 out more fortunately for the Prince than his joining 
 them did — for it seemed as if religion, virtue, and 
 justice were entering his camp, under the appear- 
 ance of this venerable old man ; and what would 
 have given sanction to a cause of the most dubious 
 right, could not fail to render sacred the very, best." 
 Although so far advanced in years, he remained 
 in arms during the whole campaign, and was treated 
 with almost filial tcndeincsd bv the Prince. After 
 
THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 2C9 
 
 Culloden ho became, like many more, a fugitive and 
 an outlaw; but he succeeded, like the Baron of 
 Brad\\^ardine, in finding a shelter upon the skirts of 
 his own estate. Disguised as a mendicant, his 
 secret was faithfully kept by the tenantry ; and al- 
 though it was more than surmised by the soldiers 
 that he was lurking somewhere in the neighborhood, 
 they never were able to detect him. On one occa- 
 sion he actually guided a party to a cave on the 
 sea-shore, amidst the rough rocks of Buchan, where 
 it was rumored that he was lying in concealment ; 
 and on another, when overtaken by his asthma, and 
 utterly unable to escape from an approaching patrol 
 of soldiers, he sat down by the wayside, and acted 
 his assumed character so well, that a good-natured 
 fellow not only gave him alms, but condoled with 
 him on the violence of his complaint. 
 
 For ten years he remained concealed, but in the 
 mean time both title and estate were forfeited by 
 attainder. His last escape was so very remarkable, 
 that I may be pardoned for giving it in the language 
 of the author of his memoirs. 
 
240 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 "Ill March, 1756, and of course long after all 
 apprehension of a search had ceased, mformation 
 having been given to the commanding officer at 
 Fraserburgh, that Lord Pitsligo was at that moment 
 at the house of Auchiries, it was acted upon with so 
 much promptness and secrecy that the search must 
 have proved successful but for a very singular 
 occurrence. IMrs. Sophia Donaldson, a lady who 
 lived much with the family, repeatedly dreamt, on 
 that particular night, that the house was surrounded 
 by soldiers. Her mind became so haunted with the 
 idea, that she got out of bed, and was walking 
 through the room in hopes of giving a different 
 current to her thoughts before she lay down again ; 
 when, day beginning to dawn, she accidentally looked 
 out at the window as she passed it in traversing the 
 room, and was astonished at actually observing the 
 figures of soldiers among some trees near the house. 
 
 So completely had all idea of a search been by that 
 
 « 
 
 time laid asleep, that she supposed they had come 
 to steal poultry — Jacobite poultry-yards affording a 
 safe object of pillage for the English soldiers in those 
 
THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 241 
 
 days. Mrs. Sophia was proceeding to rouse the 
 servants, when her sister having awaked, and inquir- 
 ing what was the matter, and being told of soldiers 
 near the house, exclaimed in great alarm, that she 
 feared they wanted something more than hens. She 
 begged Mrs. Sophia to look out at a window on the 
 other side of the house, when not only were soldiers 
 seen in that direction, but also an officer giving 
 instruction by signal, and frequently putting his 
 fingers to his lips, as if enjoining silence. There 
 was now no time to be lost in rousing the family, 
 and all the haste that could be made was scarcely 
 sufficient to hurry the venerable man from his bed 
 into a small recess, behind the wainscot of an adjoin- 
 ing room, which was concealed by a bed, in which a 
 lady. Miss Gordon of Towie, who was there on a 
 visit, lay, before the soldiers obtamed admission. A 
 most minute search took place. The room in which 
 Lord Pitsligo was concealed did not escape. Miss 
 Gordon's bed was carefully examined, and she was 
 obliged to suffer the rude scrutiny of one of the 
 
 party, by feeling her chin, to ascertain that it was 
 
 11 
 
242 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 not a man in a lady's night-dress. Before the 
 soldiers had finished their examination in this room, 
 the confinement and anxiety increased Lord Pit- 
 sligo's asthma so much, and his breathing became 
 so loud, that it cost Miss Gordon, lying in bed, 
 much and violent coughing, which she counterfeited, 
 in order to prevent the high breathings behind the 
 wainscot from being heard. It may be easily con- 
 ceived what agony she would suffer, lest by over- 
 doing her part, she should increase suspicion, and in 
 fact lead to a discovery. The ruse was fortunately 
 successful. On the search through the house being 
 given over, Lord Pitsligo was hastily taken from his 
 confined situation, and again replaced in bed ; and 
 as soon as he was able to speak, his accustomed 
 kindness of heart made him say to his servant — 
 'James, go and see that these poor fellows get 
 some breakfast, and a drink of warm ale, for 
 this is a cold morning; they are only doing 
 their duty, and cannot bear me any ill-will.' 
 When the family were felicitating ' each other on 
 his escape, he pleasantly observed, — ' A poor 
 
THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 243 
 
 prize, had they obtamed it — an old dying 
 man !" 
 
 Thi§ was the last attempt made on the part of 
 Government to seize on the persons of any of the 
 surviving insurgents. Three years before, Dr. Ar 
 chibald Cameron, a brother of Locheill, having clan- 
 destinely revisited Scotland, was arrested, tried, and 
 executed for high treason at Tyburn. The Govern- 
 ment was generally blamed for this act of severity, 
 which was considered rather to have been dictated 
 by revenge than required for the public safety. It 
 is, however, probable that they might have had 
 secret information of certain negotiations which were 
 still conducted in the Highlands by the agents of the 
 Stuart family, and that they considered it necessary, 
 by one terrible example, to overawe the insurrec- 
 tionary spirit. This I believe to have been the real 
 motive of an execution which otherwise could not 
 have been palliated ; and, in the case of Lord Pitsllgo, 
 it is quite possible that the zeal of a partisan may 
 have led him to take a stej) which would not have 
 been approved of by the Ministry. After the lapse 
 
244 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 of SO many years, and after so many scenes of ju- 
 dicial bloodshed, the nation would have turned in 
 disgust from the spectacle of an old man, whose 
 private life, was not only blameless, but exemplary, 
 dragged to the scaffold, and forced to lay down his 
 head in expiation of a doubtful crime : and this 
 view derives corroboration from the fact that, shortly 
 afterwards. Lord Pitsligo was tacitly permitted to 
 return to the society of his friends, without further 
 notice or persecution. 
 
 Dr. King, the Principal of St. Mary's Hall, Oxford, 
 has borne the following testimony to the character 
 of Lord Pitsligo. " Whoever is so happy, either 
 from his natural disposition, or his good judgment, 
 constantly to observe St. Paul's precept, ' to speak 
 evil of no one' will certainly acquire the love and 
 esteem of the whole community of which he is a 
 member. But such a man is the rara avis in terris ; 
 and, among all my acquaintance, I have known only 
 one person to whom I can with truth assign this 
 character. The person I mean is the present Lord 
 Pitsligo of Scotland. I not only never heard this 
 
THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 245 
 
 gentleman speak an ill word of any man living, but 
 I always observed him ready to defend any other 
 person who was ill spoken of in his company. If 
 the person accused were of his acquaintance, my 
 Lord Pitsligo would always find something good 
 to say of him as a counterpoise. If he were 
 a stranger, and quite unknown to him, my Lord 
 would urge in his defence the general corruption of 
 manners, and the frailties and infirmities of human 
 nature. 
 
 " It is no wonder that such an excellent man, 
 who, besides, is a polite scholar, and has many other 
 great and good qualities, should be universally 
 admired and beloved — ^insomuch, that I persuade 
 myself he has not one enemy in the world. At 
 least, to this general esteem and affection for his 
 person, his preservation must be owing ; for since 
 his attainder he has never removed far from his 
 own house, protected by men of different principles, 
 and unsought for and unmolested by Government." 
 To which eulogy it might be added, by those who 
 have the good fortune to know his representatives, 
 
246 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 that the virtues here acknowledged seem hereditary 
 in the family of Pitsligo. 
 
 The venerable old nobleman was permitted to 
 remain without molestation at the residence of his 
 son, during the latter years of an existence pro- 
 tracted to the extreme verge of human life. And 
 so, says the author of his memoirs, " In this happy 
 frame of mind, — calm and full of hope, — the saintly 
 man continued to the last, with his reason un- 
 clouded, able to study his favorite volume, enjoy- 
 ing the comforts of friendship, and delighting in 
 the consolations of religion, till he gently 'fell 
 asleep in Jesus.' He died on the 21st of December, 
 1762, in the eighty-fifth year of his age ; and to 
 his surviving friends the recollection of the misfor- 
 tunes which had accompanied him through his 
 long life was painfully awakened even in the closing 
 scene of his mortal career — as his son had the mor- 
 tification to be indebted to a stranger, now the 
 proprietor of his ancient inheritance by purchase 
 from the Crown, for permission to lay his 
 father's honored remains in the vault which 
 
THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 247 
 
 contained the ashes of his family for many gene- 
 rations." 
 
 Suck a character as this is well worth}^ of remem- 
 brance ; and Lord Pitsligo has just title to be called 
 the last of the old Scottish cavaliers. I trust that, 
 in adapting the words of the following little ballad 
 to a well-known English air, I have committed no 
 unpardonable larceny. 
 
THE 
 
 OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 
 
 I. 
 
 Come listen to another song, 
 
 Should make jour heart beat high, 
 Bring crimson to your forehead, 
 
 And the lustre to your eye j — 
 It is a song of olden time, 
 
 Of days long since gone by. 
 And of a Baron stout and bold 
 
 As e'er wore sword on thigh ! 
 
 Like a brave old Scottish cavalier, 
 
 All of the olden time ! 
 11* 
 
250 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 II. 
 
 He kept his castle in the north, 
 
 Hard by the thundering Spey ; 
 And a thousand vassals dwelt around, 
 
 All of his kindred they. 
 And not a man of all that clan 
 
 Had ever ceased to pray 
 For the Royal race they loved so well. 
 
 Though exiled far away 
 
 From the steadfast Scottish cavaliers, 
 
 All of the olden time ! 
 
 III. 
 His father drew the righteous sword 
 
 For Scotland and her claims. 
 Among the loyal gentlemen 
 
 And chiefs of ancient names 
 Who swore to fight or fall beneath 
 
 The standard of King James, 
 And died at Killiecrankie Pass 
 With the glory of the Graemes ; 
 Like a true old Scottish cavalier 
 All of the olden time ! 
 
THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 251 
 
 He never owned the foreign rule, - 
 
 No master he obeyed, 
 But kept his clan in peace at home, 
 
 From foray and from raid ; 
 And when they asked him for his oath, 
 
 He touched his glittering blade. 
 And pointed to his bonnet blue, 
 
 That bore the white cockade : 
 Like a leal old Scottish cavalier. 
 All of the olden time ! 
 
 V. 
 
 At length the news ran through the land — 
 
 The Prince had come again ! 
 That night the fiery cross was sped 
 
 O'er momitain and through glen ; 
 And our old Baron rose in might, 
 
 Like a lion from his den. 
 And rode away across the hills 
 
 To Charlie and his men. 
 
 With the valiant Scottish cavaliers, 
 All of the olden time ! 
 
252 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 VI. 
 
 He -was the first that bent the knee 
 
 When the Standard waved abroad, 
 He was the first that charged the foe 
 
 On Preston's bloody sod ; 
 And ever, in the van of fight, 
 
 The foremost still he trod, 
 Until on bleak Culloden's heath, 
 
 He gave his soul to God, 
 
 Like a good old Scottish cavalier. 
 All of the olden time ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 Oh ! never shall we know again 
 
 A heart so stout and true — 
 The olden times have passed away. 
 
 And weary are the new : 
 The fair White Rose has faded 
 
 From the garden where it grew, 
 And no fond tears, save those of heaven, 
 . The glorious bed bedew 
 
 Of the last old Scottish cavalier. 
 All of the olden time ! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
BLIND OLD MILTON. 
 
 Place me once more, my daughter, where the sun 
 May shine upon my old and time-worn head, 
 Tor the last time, perchance. My race is run ; 
 And soon amidst the ever-silent dead 
 I must repose, it may be, half forgot. 
 Yes ! I have broke the hard and bitter bread 
 Tor many a year, with those who trembled not 
 To buckle on their armor for the fight. 
 And set themselves against the tyrant's lot ; 
 And I have never bowed me to his might, 
 Nor knelt before him — for I bear within 
 My heart the sternest consciousness of right, 
 
256 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 And that perpetual hate of gilded sin 
 
 Which made me what I am ; and though the stain 
 
 Of poverty be on me, yet I win 
 
 More honor by it, than the blinded train 
 
 Who hug their willing servitude, and bow 
 
 Unto the weakest and the most profane. 
 
 Therefore, with unencumbered soul I go 
 
 Before the footstool of my Maker, where 
 
 I hope to stand as undebased as now ! 
 
 Child ! is the sun abroad ? I feel my hair 
 Borne up and wafted by the gentle wind, 
 I feel the odors that perfume the air. 
 And hear the rustling of the leaves behind. 
 Within my heart I picture them, and then 
 I almost can forget that I am blind. 
 And old, and hated by my fellow-men. 
 Yet would I fain once more behold the grace 
 Of nature ere I die, and gaze again 
 Upon her living and rejoicing face — 
 Fain would I see thy countenance, my child, 
 My comforter ! I feel thy dear embrace — 
 
BLIND OLD MILTON. 257 
 
 I hear thy voice, so musical and mild, 
 
 The patient sole interpreter, by whom 
 
 So mMiy years of sadness are beguiled ; 
 
 For it hath made my small and scanty room 
 
 Peopled with glowing visions of the past. 
 
 But I will calmly bend me to my doom, 
 
 And wait the hour which is approaching fast. 
 
 When triple light shall stream upon mine eyes, 
 
 And heaven itself be opened up at last 
 
 To him who dared foretell its mysteries. 
 
 I have had visions in this drear eclipse 
 
 Of outward consciousness, and clomb the skies, 
 
 Striving to utter with my earthly lips 
 
 What the diviner soul had half divined, 
 
 Even as the Saint in his Apocalypse 
 
 Who saw the inmost glory, where enshrined 
 
 Sat He who fashioned glory. This hath driven 
 
 All outward strife and tumult from ray mind, 
 
 And humbled me, until I have forgiven 
 
 My bitter enemies, and only seek 
 
 To find the straight and narrow path to heaven. 
 
258 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Yet I am weak — oh ! how entirely weak, 
 Tor one who may not love nor suffer more ! 
 Somethiies unbidden tears will wet my cheek, 
 And my heart boiuid as keenly as of yore. 
 Responsive to a voice, now hushed to rest. 
 Which made the beautiful Italian shore, 
 In all its pomp of summer vineyards drest, 
 An Eden and a Paradise to me. 
 Do the sweet breezes from the balmy west 
 Still murmur through thy groves, Parthenope, 
 In search of odors from the orange bowers 1 
 Still, on thy slopes of verdure, does the bee 
 Cull her rare honey from the virgin flowers ? 
 And Philomel her plaintive chaunt prolong 
 'Neath skies more calm and more serene than ours, 
 Making the summer one perpetual song 1 
 Art thou the same as when in manhood's pride 
 I walked in joy thy grassy meads among, 
 With that fair youthful vision by my side. 
 In whose bright eyes I looked — and not in vain ? 
 O my adored angel ! O my bride ! 
 
ULISD OLD MILTON. 259 
 
 Despite of jears, and wo, and want, and pain, 
 My soul yearns back towards thee, and I seem 
 To w aiider with thee, hand in hand, again, 
 By the bright margin of that flowing stream. 
 I hear again thy voice, more silver-sweet 
 Than fancied music floating; in a dream. 
 Possess my being ; from afar I greet 
 The waving of thy garments in the glade, 
 And the light rustling of thy fairy feet — 
 What time as one half eager, half afraid. 
 Love's burning secret faltered on my tongue, 
 And tremulous looks and broken words betrayed 
 The secret of the heart from whence they sprung. 
 Ah me ! the earth that rendered thee to heaven 
 Gave up an angel beautiful and young, 
 SjDotless and pure as snow wiien freshly driven ; 
 A bright Aurora for the starry sphere 
 Where all is love, and even life forgiven. 
 Bride of immortal beauty — ever dear ! 
 Dost thou await me in thy blest abode ! 
 While I, Tithonus-like, must linger here. 
 And count each step along the rugged road ; 
 
260 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 A phantom, tottering to a long-made grave, 
 And eager to lay down my weary load ! 
 
 I who was fancy's lord, am fancy's slave. 
 Like the low murmurs of the Indian shell 
 Ta'en from its coral bed beneath the wave, 
 Which, unforgetful of the ocean's swell, 
 Retains within its mystic urn the hum 
 Heard in the sea-grots where the Nereids dwell — 
 Old thoughts still haunt me — unawares they come 
 Between me and my rest, nor can I make 
 Those aged visitors of sorrow dumb. 
 Oh, yet awhile, my feeble soul, awake ! 
 Nor wander back with sullen steps again ; 
 For neither pleasant pastime canst thou take 
 In such a journey, nor endure the pain. 
 The phantoms of the past are dead for thee ; 
 So let them ever uninvoked remain. 
 And be thou calm, till death shall set thee free. 
 Thy flowers of hope expanded long ago, 
 Long since their blossoms withered on the tree : 
 
BLIND OD MILTON. 261 
 
 No second spring can come to make them blow, 
 But in the silent winter of the grave 
 They lie with blighted love and buried wo. 
 
 I did not waste the gifts which nature gave, 
 Nor slothful lay in the Circean bower ; 
 Nor did I yield myself the willing slave 
 Of lust for pride, for riches, or for power. 
 No ! in my heart a nobler spirit dwelt ; 
 For constant was my faith in manhood's dower ; 
 Man — made in God's own image — and I felt 
 How of our own accord we courted shame. 
 Until to idols like ourselves we knelt. 
 And so renounced the great and glorious claim 
 Of freedom, our immortal heritage. 
 I saw how bigotry, with spiteful aim. 
 Smote at the searching eyesight of the sage ; 
 How Error stole behind the steps of Truth, 
 And cast delusion on the sacred page. 
 So, as a champion, even in early youth 
 I waged my battle with a purpose keen : 
 
262 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Nor feared the hand of terror, nor the tooth 
 
 Of serpent jealousy. And I have been 
 
 With starry Galileo in his cell — 
 
 That wise magician with the brow serene, 
 
 Who fathomed space ; and I have seen him tell 
 
 The wonders of the planetary sphere, 
 
 And trace the ramparts of heaven's citadel 
 
 On the cold flag-stones of his dungeon drear. 
 
 And I have walked with Hampden and with Vane — 
 
 Names once so gracious to an English ear — 
 
 In days that never may return again. 
 
 My voice, though not the loudest, hath been heard 
 
 Whenever freedom raised her cry of pain, 
 
 And the faint effort of the humble bard 
 
 Hath roused up thousands from their lethargy. 
 
 To speak in words of thunder. What reward 
 
 Was mine, or theirs 1 It matters not ; for I 
 
 Am but a leaf cast on the whirling tide, 
 
 Without a hope or wish, except to die. 
 
 But truth, asserted once, must still abide, 
 
 Unquenchable, as are those fiery springs 
 
 Which day and night gash from the mountain-side, 
 
- BLIND OLD MILTON. 263 
 
 Perpetual meteors girt with lambent wings, 
 Which the wild tempest tosses to and fro, 
 But cannot conquer w^ith the force it brings. 
 
 Yet I, who ever felt another's wo 
 More keenly than my own untold distress; 
 I, who have battled with the common foe. 
 And broke for years the bread of bitterness ; 
 Who never yet abandoned or betrayed 
 The trust vouchsafed me, nor have ceased to bless, 
 Am left alone to wither in the shade, 
 A weak old man, deserted by his kind — 
 Whom none will comfort in his age, nor aid ! 
 
 Oh, let me not repine ! A quiet mind, 
 Conscious and upright, needs no other stay ; 
 Nor can I grieve for what I leave behind, 
 In the rich promise of eternal day. 
 Henceforth to me the world is dead and gone, 
 Its thorns unfelt, its roses cast away : 
 
264 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 And the old pilgrim, weary and alone, 
 Bowed down with travel, at his Master's gate 
 Now sits, his task of life-long labor done, 
 Thankful for rest, although it comes so late. 
 After sore journey through this world of sin, 
 In hope, and prayer, and wistfulness to wait, 
 Until the door shall ope, and let him in. 
 
HERMO TIM us. 
 
 HermotIxMus, the hero of this ballad, was a phi- 
 losopher, or rather a prophet, of Clazomense, who 
 possessed the faculty, now claimed by the animal- 
 magnetists, of effecting a voluntary separation be- 
 tween his soul and body ; for the former could 
 wander to any part of the universe, and even hold 
 intercourse with supernatural beings, whilst the 
 senseless frame remained at home. Hermotimus, 
 however, was not insensible to the risk attendant 
 upon this disunion ; since, before attempting any of 
 these aerial flights, he took the precaution to warn 
 
 his wife, lest, ere the return of his soul, the body 
 
 12 
 
266 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 should be rendered an unfit or useless receptacle. 
 This accident, which he so much dreaded, at length 
 occurred ; for the lady, wearied out by a succession 
 of trances, each of longer duration than the preced- 
 ing, one day committed his body to the flames, and 
 thus effectually put stop to such unconnubial con- 
 duct. He received divine honors at Clazomense, 
 but must nevertheless remain as a terrible example 
 and warning to all husbands who carry their scien- 
 tific or spiritual pursuits so far as to neglect their 
 duty to their wives. 
 
 It is somewhat curious that Hermotimus is not 
 the only person (putting the disciples of Mesmer and 
 Dupotet altogejiher out of the question) who has 
 possessed this miraculous power. Another and 
 much later instance is recorded by Dr. George 
 Cheyne, in his work entitled The English Malady^ 
 or a Treatise on Nervous Diseases^ as having come 
 under his own observation ; and as this case is 
 exactly similar to that of a Prophet, it may amuse 
 the reader to see how far an ancient fable may be 
 illustrated, and. in part explained, by the records of 
 
HERMOTIMUS. 267 
 
 modem science. Dr. Cheyne's patient was pro- 
 bably cataleptic; but the worthy physician must 
 be allowed to tell his own story. 
 
 " Colonel Townsend, a gentleman of honor and 
 integrity, had for many years been afflicted with a 
 nej)hritic complaint. His illness increasing, and his 
 strength decaying, he came from Bristol to Bath in 
 a litter, in autumn, and lay at the Bell Imi. Dr. 
 Baynard and I were called to him, and attended him 
 twice a-day ; but his vomitings continuing still 
 incessant and obstinate against all remedies, we 
 despaired of his recovery. While he was in this 
 condition, he sent for us one morning ; we waited 
 on Jiim with Mr. Skrine, his apothecary. We found 
 his senses clear, and his mind calm : his nurse and 
 several servants were about him. He told us he 
 had sent for us to give him an account of an odd 
 sensation he had for some time observed and felt in 
 himself; which was, that by composing himself, he 
 could die or expire when he pleased ; and yet by an 
 effort, or somehow, he could come to life again, 
 which he had sometimes tried before he sent for us. 
 
268 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 We heard this with surprise ; but, as it was not to 
 be accounted for upon common principles, we could 
 hardly believe the fact as he related it, much less 
 give any account of it ; unless he should please to 
 make the experiment before us, which we were un- 
 willing he should do, lest, in his weak condition, he 
 might carry it too far. He continued to talk very 
 distinctly and sensibly above a quarter of an hour 
 about this surprising sensation, and insisted so much 
 on our seeing the trial made, that we were at last 
 forced to comply. We all three felt his jDulse first 
 — it was distinct though small and thready, and his' 
 heart had its usual beating. He composed himself 
 on his back, and lay m a still posture for some time : 
 while I held his right hand. Dr. Baynard laid his 
 hand on his heart, and Mr. Skrine held a clean look- 
 ing-glass to his mouth. I found his pulse sink gra- 
 dually, till at last I could not find any by the most 
 exact and nice touch. Dr. Baynard could not feel 
 the least motion in his heart, nor Mr. Skrine the 
 least soil of breath on the bright mirror he held to 
 his mouth ; then each of us by turns examined his 
 
HERMOTIMCS. 269 
 
 arm, heart, and breath, but could not, by the nicest 
 scrutmy discover the least symptom of life in him. 
 We reasoned a long time about this odd appearance 
 as well as we could, and all of us judging it inex- 
 plicable and unaccountable ; and, finding he still 
 continued in that condition, we began to conclude 
 that he had indeed carried the experiment too far ; 
 and, at last were satisfied he was actually dead, and 
 were just ready to leave him. This continued 
 about half an hour. As we were going away, we 
 observed some motion about the body ; and, upon 
 examination, found his pulse and the motion of his 
 heart gradually returning. He began to breathe 
 gently and speak softly. "VVe were all astonished 
 to the last degree at this unexpected change ; and, 
 after some further conversation with him, and 
 among ourselves, went away fully satisfied as to all 
 the particulars of this fact, but confounded and 
 puzzled, and not able 'to form any rational scheme 
 that might account for it.^ 
 
HERMOTIMUS. 
 
 I. 
 
 " Wilt not lay thee down in quiet slumber ? 
 
 Weaiy dost thoii seem, and ill at rest ; 
 Sleep will bring thee dreams in starry number- 
 Let him come to 'thee and be thy guest. 
 Midnight now is past — 
 Husband ! come at last — 
 Lay thy throbbing head upon my breast." 
 
HERMOTIMUS. 271 
 
 n. 
 
 " Weaiy am I, but my soul is waking ; 
 
 Fain I'd lay me gently by thy side, 
 But my spirit then, its home forsaking. 
 
 Thro' the realms of space would wander wide- 
 Everything forgot, 
 What would be thy lot, 
 If I came not back to thee, my bride ! 
 
 ni. 
 
 " Music, like the lute of young Apollo, 
 Vibrates even now within mine ear ; 
 Soft and silver voices bid me follow — 
 Yet my soul is dull and will not hear. 
 Waking it will stay : 
 Let me watch till day — 
 Fainter will they come and disappear." 
 
272 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 IV. 
 
 " Speak not thus to me, my own — ^my dearest ! 
 
 These are but the phantoms of thy brain ; 
 Nothing can befall thee which thou fear est, 
 Tliou shalt wake to love and life again. 
 Were thy sleep thy last, 
 I would hold thee fast — 
 Thou shouldst strive against me but in vain. 
 
 V. 
 
 " Eros will protect us, and will hover. 
 
 Guardian-like, above thee all the night. 
 Jealous of thee as of some fond lover 
 Chiding back the rosy-fingered light — 
 He will be thine aid : 
 Canst thou feel afraid 
 When his torch above us burneth bright 1 
 
HERMOTIMUS. 273 
 
 VI. 
 
 " Lo ! the cressets of the night are waning- 
 
 Old Orion hastens from the sky ; 
 Only thou of all things art remaining 
 Unrefreshed by slumber — thou and I. 
 Sound and sense are still, 
 Even the distant rill 
 Murmurs fainter now, and languidly. 
 
 VII. 
 
 " Come and rest thee, husband !" — And no longer 
 
 Could the young man that fond call resist : 
 
 Vainly was he warned, for love was stronger. 
 
 "Warmly did he press her to his breast ; 
 
 Warmly met she his ; 
 
 Kiss succeeded kiss, 
 
 Till their eyelids closed with sleep oppressed. 
 12* 
 
274 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Soon Aurora left her early pillow, 
 
 And the heavens grew rosy-rich and rare ; 
 Laughed the dewy plain and glassy billow, 
 For the Golden God himself was there ; 
 And the vapor-screen 
 Rose the hills between, 
 Steaming up, like incense, in the air. 
 
 IX. 
 
 O'er her husband sat lone bending — 
 
 Marble-like and marble-hued he lay ; 
 Underneath her raven locks descending, 
 Paler seemed his face and ashen gray ; 
 And so white his brow, 
 White and cold as snow — 
 " Husband ! — Gods ! his soul hath passed away !" 
 
HERMOTIMUS, 275 
 
 X. 
 
 Raise ye up the pile with gloomy shadow — 
 
 Heap it with the mournful cypress-bough ! — 
 And they raised the pile upon the meadow, 
 And they heaped the mournful cypress too ; 
 And they laid the dead 
 On his funeral bed, 
 And they kindled up the flames below. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Night again was come ; but oh, how lonely 
 
 To the mourner did that night appear ! 
 Peace nor rest it brought, but sorrow only, 
 Vain repinings and unwonted fear. 
 Dimly burned the lamp — 
 Chill the air and damp — 
 And the winds without were moaning drear. 
 
276 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 xn. 
 
 Hush ! a voice in solemn whispers speaking, 
 
 Breaks within the twilight of the room , 
 And lone, loud and wildly shrieking. 
 
 Starts and gazes through the ghastly gloom. 
 Nothing sees she there — 
 All is empty air. 
 All is empty as a rifled tomb. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Once again the voice beside her sounded, 
 
 Low, and faint, and solemn was its tone — 
 " Nor by form nor shade am I surrounded, 
 Fleshly home and dwelling have I none. 
 They are' passed away — 
 Wo is me ! to-day 
 Hath robbed me of myself, and made me lone. 
 
HERMOTIMUS. 277 
 
 XIV. 
 
 " Vaiiily were the words of parting spoken j 
 
 Evermore must Charon turn from me. 
 Still my thread of life remains unbroken, 
 And unbroken ever it must be ; 
 Only they may rest 
 Whom the Fates' behest 
 From their mortal mansion setteth free. 
 
 XV. 
 
 " I have seen the robes of Hermes glisten — 
 
 Seen him wave afar his serpent- wand ; 
 But to me the Herald would not listen — 
 When the dead swept by at his command. 
 Not with that pale crew 
 Durst I venture too — 
 Ever shut for me the quiet land. 
 
278 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 " Day and night before the dreary portal, 
 
 Phantom-shapes, the guards of Hades, lie ; 
 None of heavenly kind, nor yet of mortal, 
 May unchallenged pass the warders by. 
 None that path may go, 
 If he cannot show 
 His last passport to eternity. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " Cruel was the spirit-power thou gavest — 
 
 Fatal, Oh Apollo, was thy love ! 
 Pythian ! Archer ! brighest god and bravest, 
 Hear, oh hear me from thy throne above ! 
 I-iet me not, I pray. 
 Thus be cast away : 
 Plead for me, thy slave — O plead to Jove ! 
 
HERMOTIMUS. 279 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 *' I have heard thee with the Muses shighig — 
 
 Heard that full melodious voice of thine, 
 Silver-clear throughout the ether ringing — 
 Seen thy locks in golden clusters shine ; 
 And thine eye so bright, 
 With its innate light. 
 Hath ere now been bent so low as mine. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 " Hast thou lost the wish — the will — to cherish 
 
 Those who trusted in thy godlike power 1 
 Hyacinthus did not wholly perish ! 
 
 Still he lives, the firstling of thy bower ; 
 Still he feels thy rays. 
 Fondly meets thy gaze, 
 Tliough but now the spirit of a flower. 
 
280 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 XX. 
 
 " Hear me, Phoebus ! Hear me and deliver ! 
 
 Lo ! tlie morning breaketh from afar — 
 God ! tliou comest bright and great as ever — 
 Night goes back before thy burning car ; 
 All her lamps are gone — 
 Lucifer alone 
 Lingers still for thee — the blessed star ! 
 
 XXI. 
 
 " Hear me, Phoebus !" — And therewith descended 
 
 Through the window-arch a glory-gleam, 
 All effulgent — and with music blended ; 
 For such solemn sounds arose as stream 
 From the Memnon-lyre, 
 When the morning fire 
 Gilds the giant's forehead with its beam. 
 
HERMOTIMUS. 281 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " Thou hast heard thy servant's prayer, Apollo ! 
 
 Thou dost call me, mighty God of Day ! 
 Fare-thee-well, lone !" — And more hollow 
 Came the phantom-voice, then died away. 
 When the slaves arose, 
 Not in calm repose — 
 Not in sleep, but death, their mistress lay. 
 
CE N O N E. 
 
 On tlie holy mount of Ida, 
 
 Where the j^ine and cypress grow, 
 Sate a young and lovely woman, 
 
 Weeping ever, weeping low. 
 Drearily throughout the forest 
 
 Did the winds of autumn blow, 
 And the clouds above were flying. 
 
 And Scamander rolled below. 
 
 " Faithless Paris ! cruel Paris !" 
 Thus the poor deserted spake — 
 
 Wherefore thus so strangely leave me? 
 Why thy loving bride forsake ? 
 
CENONE. 283 
 
 Why no tender word at parting — 
 
 Why no kiss, no farewell takel i 
 
 Would that I could but forget thee ! 
 
 Would this throbbing heart might break ! 
 
 " Is my face no longer blooming 1 
 
 Are my eyes no longer bright 1 
 Ah ! my tears have made them dimmer, 
 
 And my cheeks are pale and white. 
 I have wept since early morning, 
 
 I shall weep the livelong night ; 
 Now I long for sullen darkness, 
 
 As I once have longed for light. 
 
 " Paris ! canst thou then be cruel ! 
 
 Fair, and young, and brave thou art — 
 Can it be that in thy bosom 
 
 Lies so cold, so hard a heart 1 
 Children were we bred together — 
 
 She who bore me suckled thee ; 
 I have been thine old companion, 
 
 When thou hadst no more but me. 
 
284 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 " I have watched thee in thy slumbers, 
 
 When the shadow of a dream 
 Passed across thy smiling features, 
 
 Like the ripple on a stream ; 
 And so sweetly were the visions 
 
 Pictured there with, lively grace, 
 That I half could read their import 
 
 By the changes on thy face. 
 
 " When I sang of Ariadne, 
 
 Sang the old and mournful tale, 
 How her faithless lover, Theseus, 
 
 Left her to lament and wail ; 
 Then thine eyes would fill and glisten, 
 
 Her complaint could soften thee : 
 Thou hast wept for Ariadne — 
 
 Theseus' self might weep for me ! 
 
 " Thou may'st fiiid another maiden 
 With a fairer face than mine — 
 
 With a gayer voice and sweeter, 
 And a spirit liker thine : 
 
CENONE. 285 
 
 For if e'er my beauty bound thee, 
 
 Lost and broken is the spell ; 
 But thou canst not find aiK)ther 
 
 That will love thee half so well. 
 
 " thou hollow ship, that bearest 
 
 Paris o'er the faithless deep ! 
 Wouldst thou leave him on some island 
 
 Where alone the waters weep ; 
 Where no human foot is moulded 
 
 In the wet and yellow sand — 
 Leave him there, thou hollow vessel ! 
 
 Leave him on that lonely strand ! 
 
 "Then his heart will surely soften, 
 
 When his foolish hopes decay. 
 And his older love rekindle. 
 
 As the new one dies away. 
 Visionary hills will haunt him, 
 
 Rising from the glassy sea. 
 And his thoughts will wander homeward 
 
 Unto Ida and to me. 
 
286 MISCEH.ANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 " O ! that like a little swallow 
 I could reach that lonely spot ! 
 
 All his errors would be pardoned, 
 All the weary past forgot. 
 
 Never should he wander from me — 
 
 Never should he more depart ; 
 For these arms would be his prison, 
 
 And his home would be my heart 1" 
 
 Thus lamented fair CEnone, 
 
 Weeping ever, weeping low. 
 On the holy mount of Ida, 
 
 Where the pine and cypress grow. 
 In the self-same hour Cassandra 
 
 Shrieked her prophecy of wo. 
 And into the Spartan dwelling 
 
 Did the faithless Paris go. 
 
THE BUEIED FLOWER. 
 
 I. 
 
 In the silence of my chamber, 
 
 When the night is still and deep, 
 
 And the drowsy heave of ocean 
 Mutters in its charmed sleep, 
 
 II. 
 
 Oft I hear the angel-voices 
 
 That have thrilled me long ago, — 
 Voices of my lost companions, 
 
 Lying deep beneath the snow. 
 
288 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 III. 
 
 O, the garden I remember, 
 
 s. 
 
 In the gay and sunny spring, 
 When our laughter made the thickets 
 And the arching alleys ring ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 O the merry burst of gladness ! 
 
 O the soft and tender tone ! 
 O the whisper never uttered 
 
 Save to one fond ear alone ! 
 
 V. 
 
 O the light of life that sparkled 
 
 In those bright and bounteous eyes ! 
 
 O the blush of happy beauty, 
 Tell-tale of the heart's surprise ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 O the radiant light that girdled 
 Field and forest, land and sea. 
 
 When we all were young together, 
 And the earth was new to me ! 
 
THE BURIED FLOWER. 289 
 
 VII. 
 
 Where are now the flowers we tended 1 
 Withered, broken, branch and stem ; 
 
 Where are now the hopes we cherished 1 
 Scattered to the winds with them. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 For ye, too, were flowers, ye dear ones ! 
 
 Nursed in hope and reared in love, 
 Looking fondly ever upward 
 
 To the clear blue heaven above : 
 
 IX. 
 
 Smiling on the sun that cheered us, 
 
 Rising lightly from the rain, 
 Never folding up your freshness 
 
 Save to give it forth again : 
 
 X. 
 
 Never shaken, save by accents 
 
 From a tongue that was not free, 
 
 As the modest blossom trembles 
 
 At the wooing of the bee. 
 o 
 
290 MISCELLANEOUS TOEMS. 
 
 XI. 
 
 O ! 'tis sad to lie and reckon 
 All the days of faded youth, 
 
 All the vows that we believed in, 
 All the words we spoke in truth. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Severed — were it severed only 
 By an idle thought of strife, 
 
 Such as time may knit together; 
 Not the broken chord of life ! 
 
 XIII. 
 
 O my heart ! that once so truly 
 Kept another's time and tune. 
 
 Heart, that kindled in the spring-tide, 
 Look around thee in the noon ! 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Where are they who gave the impulse 
 To thy earliest thought and flow 1 
 
 Look around the ruined garden — 
 All are withered, dropped, or low ! 
 
THE BURIED FLOWER. 291 
 
 XV. 
 
 Seek the birthplace of the Lily, 
 Dearer to the boyish dream 
 
 Than the golden cups of Eden, 
 
 Floating on its slumberous stream ; 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Never more shalt thou behold her — 
 She, the noblest, fairest, best : 
 
 She that rose in fullest beauty, 
 Like a queen, above the rest. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Only still I keep her image 
 As a thought that cannot die ; 
 
 He who raised the shade of Helen 
 Had no greater power than L 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 O ! I fling my spirit backward. 
 And I pass o'er years of pain ; 
 
 All I loved is rising round me, 
 All the lost returns again. 
 
292 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Blow, for ever blow, ye breezes, 
 Warmly as ye did before ! 
 
 Bloom again, ye happy gardens 
 With the radiant tints of yore ! 
 
 XX. 
 
 Warble out in spray and thicket, 
 
 All ye choristers unseen ; 
 Let the leafy woodland echo 
 
 With an anthem to its queen ! 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Lo ! she Cometh in her beauty, 
 
 Stately with a Juno grace, 
 Raven locks, Madonna-braided 
 
 O'er her sweet and blushing face : 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Eyes of deepest violet, beaming 
 
 With the love that knows not shame- 
 Lips, that thrill my inmost being 
 With the utterance of a name. 
 
THE BURIED FLOWER. 293 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 And I bend the knee before her, 
 As a captive ought to bow, — 
 
 Pray thee, listen to my pleading. 
 Sovereign of my soul art thou ! 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 O my dear and gentle lady ! 
 
 Let me show thee all my pain, 
 Ere the words that late were prisoned 
 
 Sink into my heart again. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Love, they say, is very fearful 
 Ere its curtain be withdrawn, 
 
 Trembling at the thought of error 
 As the shadows scare the fawn. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Love hath bound me to thee, lady ! 
 
 Since the well-remembered day 
 When I first beheld thee coming 
 
 In the light of lustrous May. 
 
294 MISCELLANEOL'S TOKMB. 
 
 XXVII. • 
 
 Not a wf)rcl I JiiivVl to iilt<>,r — 
 More tlum lie who, long ;i<j;o, 
 
 Saw the heavenly sluipos descending 
 Over Ida's slopes of snow ; 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 When ji low and solemn music 
 
 I'loated throngh the listening grove, 
 
 And the throstle's song was silenced, 
 And the cKjIIng of the dove : 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 When Immortal l)ejui1y opened 
 All il-s eharms to mortal sight, 
 
 And the awe of worshij) MimkIcmI 
 With the throbbing of delight. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 As the shepherd stood before them 
 Tremlding in the Phrygian dell. 
 
 Even so my son I and hclng 
 Owned the magic of the spell ; 
 
 i 
 
THE BURIED FLOWER. 295 
 
 xxxr. 
 
 And 1 watched thcc cjvcr fondly, 
 • Wiitchcd thee, dearest! fioin afar, 
 With the mute and humble homage 
 Of the Indian to a star. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Thou wert still the lady Flora 
 
 In her morning garb of l>loom ; 
 Where thou wert was light and glory, 
 
 Where thou wert not, dearth and gloom. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 So for many a day I followed 
 
 For a long and weary while. 
 Ere my heart rose up to bless thee 
 
 For the yielding of a smile, — 
 
 XXXTV. 
 
 Er(! thy words were few and broken 
 As they answered back to inino, 
 
 Ere my lips had power to thank thco 
 For the gift vouchsafed \>y thine. 
 
296 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Then a mighty gush of passion 
 Through my inmost being ran ; 
 
 Then my older life was ended, 
 And a dearer course began. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Dearer ! — ! I cannot tell thee 
 What a load was swept away, 
 
 What a world of doubt and darkness 
 Faded in the dawing day ! 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 All my error, all my weakness, 
 All my vain delusions fled ; 
 
 Hope again revived, and gladness 
 Waved its wings above my head. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Like the wanderer of the desert. 
 When, across the dreary sand. 
 
 Breathes the perfume from the thickets 
 Bordering on the promised land : 
 
THE BURIED FLOWER. 297 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 When afar he sees the palm-trees 
 
 Cresting o'er the lonely well, 
 When he he^-s the pleasant tinkle 
 
 Of the distant camel's bell : 
 
 XL. 
 
 So a fresh and glad emotion 
 
 Rose within my swelling breast, 
 And I hurried swiftly onwards 
 
 To the haven of my rest. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Thou wert there with word and welcome, 
 With thy smile so purely sweet ; 
 
 And I laid my heart before thee, 
 Laid it, darling ! at thy feet. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 O ye words that sound so hollow 
 
 As I now recall your tone ! 
 
 What are ye but empty echoes 
 
 Of a passion crushed and gone ] 
 13* 
 
298 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Wherefore should I seek to kmdle 
 Light, when all around is gloom ? 
 
 Wherefore should I raise a jibantom 
 O'er the dark and silent tomb *? 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Early wert thou taken, Mary ! 
 
 In thy fair and glorious prime, 
 Ere the bees had ceased to murmur 
 
 Through the umbrage of the lime. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Buds were blowing, waters flowing. 
 Birds were singing on the tree, 
 
 Everything was bright and glowing, 
 When the angels came for thee. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Death had laid aside his terror, 
 And he found thee calm and mild, 
 
 Lying in thy robes of whiteness, 
 Like a pure and stainless child. 
 
THE BURIED FLOWER. 299 
 
 XL VII. 
 
 I^rdlj had the moimtain-violet 
 Spread its blossoms on the sod, 
 
 Ere they laid the turf above thee, 
 And thy spirit rose to God. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Early wert thou taken, Mary ! 
 
 And I know 'tis vain to weep — 
 Tears of mine can never wake thee 
 
 From thy sad and silent sleep. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 O away ! my thoughts are earthward ! 
 
 Not asleep, my love, art thou ! 
 Dwelling in the land of glory 
 
 With the saints and angels now. 
 
 L. 
 
 Brighter, fairer far than living. 
 With no trace of wo or pain. 
 
 Robed in everlasting beauty. 
 Shall I see thee once again. 
 
300 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 II. 
 
 By the light that never fadeth, 
 Underneath eternal skies, 
 
 When the dawn of resurrection 
 Breaks o'er deathless Paradise. 
 
THE OLD CAMP 
 
 WBITTEN 
 
 IN A ROMAN FORTIFICATION IN BAVARIA. 
 
 I. 
 
 There is a cloud before the sun, 
 
 The wind is hushed and still, 
 And silently the waters run 
 
 Beneath the sombre hill. 
 The sky is dark in every place 
 
 As is the earth below : 
 Methinks it wore the self-same face 
 
 Two thousand years ago. 
 
302 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 II. 
 
 No light is on the ancient wall, 
 
 No light upon the mound ; 
 The very trees, so thick and tall. 
 
 Cast gloom, not shade, around. 
 So silent is the place and cold. 
 
 So far from human ken, 
 It hath a look that makes me old, 
 
 And spectres time again. 
 
 III. 
 
 I listen, half in thought to hear 
 
 The Roman trumpet blow — 
 I search for glint of helm and spear 
 
 Amidst the forest-bough; 
 And armor rings, and voices swell — 
 
 I hear the legion's tramp, 
 And mark the lonely sentinel 
 
 Who guards the lonely camp. 
 
THE OLD CAMP. 303 
 
 IV. 
 
 Methinks I have no other home, 
 
 No other hearth to find ; 
 For nothing save the thought of Rome 
 
 Is stirrmg m my mind. 
 And all that I have heard or dreamed, 
 
 And all I had forgot, 
 Are rising up, as though they seemed 
 
 The household of the spot. 
 
 V. 
 
 And all the names that Romans knew 
 
 Seem just as known to me. 
 As if I were a Roman too — 
 
 A Roman born and free : 
 And I could rise at Caesar's name. 
 
 As though it were a charm 
 To draw sharp lightning from the tame, 
 
 And brace the coward's arm. 
 
304 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 VI. 
 
 And yet, if yonder sky were blue, 
 
 And earth were sunny gay. 
 If nature wore the summer hue 
 
 That decked her yesterday, 
 The mound, the trench, the rampart's space, 
 
 Would move me nothing more 
 Than many a sweet sequestered place 
 
 That I have marked before. 
 
 VII. 
 
 I could not feel the breezes bring 
 
 Rich odors from the trees ; 
 I could not hear the linnets sing, 
 
 And think on themes like these. 
 The painted insects as they pass 
 
 In swift and motley strife. 
 The very lizard in the grass 
 
 Would scare me back to life. 
 
THE OLD CAMP. 305 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Tlien is the past so gloomy now 
 
 That it may never bear 
 The open smile of nature's brow, 
 
 Or meet the sunny air ? 
 I know not that — but joy is power, 
 
 However short it last ; 
 And joy befits the present hour, 
 
 If sadness fits the past. 
 
DANUBE 
 
 AND 
 
 THE EUXINE. 
 
 " Danube, Danube ! wherefore com'st thou 
 
 Red and raging to my caves 1 
 Wherefore leap thy swollen waters 
 
 Madly through the broken waves 1 
 Wherefore is thy tide so sullied 
 
 With a hue unknown to me ; 
 Wherefore dost thou bring pollution 
 
 To the old and sacred seaf 
 
 " Ha ! rejoice, old Father Euxine ! 
 I am brimming full and red ; 
 
DANUBE AND THE EUXINE. 807 
 
 Noble tidings do I cany 
 
 rroni my distant channel-bed. 
 I have been a Christian river 
 
 Dull and slow this many a year, 
 Rolling down my torpid waters 
 
 Through a silence morne and drear ; 
 Have not felt the tread of armies 
 
 Trampling on my reedy shore ; 
 Have not heard the trumpet calling, 
 
 Or the cannon's gladsome roar ; 
 Only listen to the laughter 
 
 From the village and the town, 
 And the church-bells, ever jangling, 
 
 As the weary day went down. 
 So I lay and sorely pondered 
 
 Oh the days long since gone by, 
 When my old primaeval forests 
 
 Echoed to the war-man's cry ; 
 When the race of Thor and Odin 
 
 Held their battles by my side. 
 And the blood of man was mingling 
 
 Warmly with my chilly tide. 
 
308 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Father Euxine ! thou rememb'rest 
 
 How I brought thee tribute then — 
 Swollen corpses, gashed and gory, 
 
 Heads and limbs of slaughtered men 1 
 Father Euxine ! be thou joyful ! 
 
 I am running red once more — 
 Not with heathen blood, as early, 
 
 But with gallant Christian gore ! 
 For the old times are returning, 
 
 And the cross is broken down. 
 And I hear the tocsin sounding 
 
 In the village and the town : 
 And the glare of burning cities 
 
 Soon shall light me on my way — 
 Ha ! my heart is big and jocund 
 
 With the draught I drank to-day. 
 Ha ! I feel my strength awakened, 
 
 And my brethren shout to me ; 
 Each is leaping-red and joyous 
 
 To his own awaiting sea. 
 Rhine and Elbe are plunging downward 
 
 Through their wild anarchic land, 
 
 T 
 
DANUBE AXD THE EUXINE. 1309 
 
 Everywhere are Christians falling 
 
 By their brother Christians' hand ! 
 Yea, the old times are returning, 
 
 And the olden gods are here ! 
 Take my tribute, Father Euxine, 
 
 To thy waters dark and drear ! 
 Therefore come I with my torrents, 
 
 Shaking castle, crag, and town ; 
 Therefore with the shout of thunder, 
 
 Swee23 I herd and herdsman down ; 
 Therefore leap I to thy bosom 
 
 With a loud triumphal roar — 
 Greet me, greet me, Father Euxine — 
 
 I am Chi'istian stream no more !" 
 
THE SCHEIK OF SINAI 
 
 IN 
 
 1830 
 
 FROM THE GERMAN OF FREILIGRATH. 
 
 I. 
 
 " Lift me without the tent, I say, — 
 
 Me and my ottoman, — 
 I'll see the messenger myself! 
 It is the caravan 
 
 From Africa, thou sayest, 
 
 And they bring us news of war ? 
 
THE SCHEIK OF SINAI. 311 
 
 Draw we without the tent, and quick ! 
 
 As at the desert-well 
 The freshness of the purling brook 
 Delights the tired gazelle, 
 
 So pant I for the voice of him 
 That Cometh from afar !" 
 
 II. 
 
 The Scheik was lifted from his ten^;, 
 And thus outspake the Moor : — 
 " I saw, old Chief, the Tricolor 
 On Algiers' topmost tower — 
 Upon its battlements the silks 
 Of Lyons flutter free. 
 Each morning, in the market-place, 
 
 The muster-drum is beat. 
 And to the war-hymn of Marseilles 
 The squadrons pace the street. 
 
 The armament from Toulon sailed : 
 The Franks have crossed the sea. 
 
312 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 HI. 
 
 " Towards the south the columns marched 
 
 Beneath a cloudless sky : 
 Their weapons glittered in the blaze 
 Of the sun of Barbaiy ; 
 
 And with the dusty desert sand 
 Their horses' manes were white. 
 The wild marauding tribes dispersed 
 
 In terror of their lives ; 
 They fled into the mountains 
 
 With their children and their wives, 
 And urged the clumsy dromedary 
 Up the Atlas' height. 
 
 IV. 
 
 " The Moors have ta'en their vantage-ground, 
 
 The volleys thunder fast — 
 The dark defile is blazino; 
 Like a heated oven-blast. 
 
 The lion hears the strange turmoil, 
 And leaves his mangled prey — 
 
THE SCHEIK OF SINAI. 313 
 
 No place was that for him to feed ; 
 
 And thick and loud the cries, 
 Feu ! ' A llah I — A Hah ! En avant ! 
 In mingled discord rise : 
 
 The Franks have reached the summit ; 
 They have won the victory ! 
 
 V. 
 
 " With bristling steel, upon the top 
 
 The victors take their stand ; 
 
 Beneath their feet, with all its towns, 
 
 They see the promised land — 
 
 From Tunis, even unto Fez, 
 
 From Atlas to the seas. 
 
 The cavaliers alight to gaze. 
 
 And gaze full well they may, 
 
 "Where countless minarets stand up 
 
 So solemnly and gray. 
 
 Amidst the dark-green masses 
 
 Of the flowering myrtle-trees. 
 14 
 
314 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 V 
 
 VI. 
 
 " The almond blossoms in the vale ; 
 
 The aloe from the rock 
 Throws out its long and prickly leaves, 
 Nor dreads the tempest's shock : 
 A blessed land, I ween, is that, 
 Though luckless is its Bey. 
 There lies the sea — beyond lies France ! 
 
 Her banners in the air 
 Ploat proudly and triumphantly — 
 A salvo ! come, prepare ! 
 
 And loud and long the mountains rang 
 With that glad artillery." 
 
 VII. 
 
 " 'Tis they !" exclaimed the aged Scheik. 
 
 "I've battled by their side — 
 I fought beneath the Pyramids ! 
 That day of deathless pride — 
 
 Red as thy turban. Moor, that eve, 
 Was every creek in Nile ! 
 
THE SCHIEK OF SINAI. 315 
 
 But tell me — " and he griped his hand — 
 
 " Their Sultaun ? Stranger, say, — 
 His form — his face — his posture, man — 
 Thou saw'st him in the fray 1 
 
 His eye — what wore he f But the Moor 
 Sought in his vest awhile. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 " Their Sultaun, Scheik, remains at home 
 
 Within his palace walls : 
 He sends a Pasha in his stead 
 To brave the bolts and balls. 
 
 He was not there. An Aga burst 
 For him through Atlas' hold. 
 Yet I can show thee somewhat too. 
 
 A Prankish Cavalier 
 Told me his effigy was stamped 
 Upon this medal here — 
 He gave it me with others 
 For an Arab steed I sold." 
 
316 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The old man took the golden coin : 
 
 Gazed steadfastly a while, 
 If that could be the Sultaun 
 Whom from the banks of Nile 
 He guided o'er the desert path ; — 
 Then sighed and thus spake he — 
 *' 'Tis not Ms eye — 'tis not his brow — 
 
 Another face is there : 
 I never saw this man before — 
 His head is like a pear ! 
 
 Take back thy medal, Moor — 'tis not 
 That which I hoped to see." 
 
EPITAPH 
 
 OB' 
 
 CONSTANTINE KANARIS. 
 
 FROM THE GERMAN OF WILHELM SnJLLER. 
 
 I AM Constantiiie Kanaris. 
 
 I, who lie beneath this stone, 
 Twice into the air in thunder 
 
 Have the Turkish galleys blown. 
 
 In my bed I died — a Christian, 
 
 Hoping straight with Christ to be ; 
 
 Yet one earthly wish is buried 
 Deep within the grave with me — 
 
318 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 That upon the open ocean, 
 
 When the third Armada came, 
 
 They and I had died together. 
 Whirled aloft on wings of flame. 
 
 Yet 'tis something that they've laid me 
 
 In a land without a stain : 
 Keep it thus, my God and Savior, 
 
 Till I rise from earth again ! 
 
THE REFUSAL 
 
 OF 
 
 CHARON 
 
 FROM THE ROMAIC. 
 
 Why look the distant mountains 
 
 So gloomy and so drear 1 
 Are rain-clouds passing o'er them 
 
 Or is the tempest near 1 ' 
 
 * According to the superstition of the modem Greeks, 
 Charon performs the function which their ancestors assigned 
 to Hermes, of conducting tlie souls of the dead to the other 
 world. 
 
320 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 No shadow of the tempest 
 Is there, nor wind nor rain — 
 
 'Tis Charon that is passing by, 
 With all his gloomy train. 
 
 The young men march before him, 
 
 In all their strength and pride : 
 The tender little infants, 
 
 They totter by his side ; 
 The old men walk behind him, 
 
 And earnestly they pray — 
 Both old and young imploring him 
 
 To grant some brief delay. 
 
 " O Charon ! halt, we pray thee, 
 
 By yonder little town, 
 Or near that sparkling fountain, 
 
 Where the waters wimple down ! 
 The old will drink and be refreshed, 
 
 The young the disc will fling. 
 And the tender little children 
 
 Pluck flowers beside the spring." 
 
THE REFUSAL OF CHARON. 321 
 
 " I will not stay my journey, 
 
 Nor halt by any town, 
 Near any sparkling fountain, 
 
 Where the waters wimple down : 
 The mothers coming to the well 
 
 Would know the babes they bore ; 
 The wives would clasp their husbands, 
 
 Nor could I part them more." 
 
 14* 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 EXAMINATION OF THE STATEMENTS IN MR. MACAULAY'S 
 HISTORY OF ENGLAND, REGARDING JOHN GRAHAME 
 OF CLAVERHOUSE, VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 
 
 " Discarding modern historians, ivho, in too many instances, 
 do not seem to entertain the slightest scruple lohilst dealing with 
 the memory of the deadP 
 
 Preface to Burial-March of Dundee. — P. 88. 
 
 SixcE the first edition of this volume was published, Mr. 
 Macaulay's long-promised History of England has been 
 given to the public. Without wishing in any way to de- 
 tract from the general merits of a work which has already 
 attained so great popularity ; but, on the contrary, ac- 
 knowledging with gratitude the delight I have received 
 from its perusal, I must take the liberty of challenging 
 its accuracy with regard to many of the details referring 
 to Scottish events, more especially those connected with 
 the proceedings which were instituted against the Cove- 
 nanters. "With the political conclusions drawn by the 
 learned and accomplished author, I have of course nothing 
 to do : these fall within the sphere of private judg- 
 ment ; and though I differ from him very largely in his 
 
326 APPENDIX. 
 
 estimate both of men and measures, I am not entitled to 
 enter into such an argument. But the facts set forth by 
 an historian are pubUc property, and I shall now proceed 
 to examine the charges which Mr. Macaulay has brought 
 against Lord Dundee, and the autliorities upon which those 
 charges have been founded. 
 
 With reference to the proceedings in the west of Scotland, 
 during the year 1685, Mr. Macaulay says : "Those shires in 
 which the Covenanters were most numerous were given up 
 to the license of the army. With the army was mingled 
 a militia, composed of the most violent and profligate of 
 those who called themselves Episcopalians. Pre-eminent 
 among the bands which oppressed and wasted these un- 
 happy districts were the dragoons commanded by James 
 Graham of Claverhouse. The story ran that these wicked 
 men used in their revels to play at the torments of hell, and 
 to call each other by the names of devils and damned souls. 
 The chief of this Tophet on earth, a soldier of distinguished 
 courage and professional skill, but rapacious and profane, of 
 violent temper and of obdurate heart, has left a name which, 
 ■whei-ever the Scottish race is settled on the face of the globe, 
 is mentioned with a peculiar energy of hatred." 
 
 These are hard words : let us now see how they are justi- 
 fied. The name which has been left by " the chief of this 
 Tophet on earth" is at all events not that which has been 
 set forth by Mi*. Macaulay in his history. There never was 
 any such person as James Graham of Claverhouse. We 
 know indeed of one James Grahame who was conspicuous 
 in Scottish history, and his name has ere now been exposed 
 to as much calumny and vituperation as is still lavished on 
 his gallant relative ; but loyalists venerate him as the great 
 Marquis of Montrose. John Grahame of Claverhouse we 
 know also, and men speak of him as the Viscount of Dundee. 
 But of Mr. Macaulay 's James Graham we know nothing! 
 neither has that name, as applied to Claverhouse, a place 
 in any accredited history save his own. 
 
THE VISCOUXT OF DUNDEE. 327 
 
 It ma}^ appear trivial to insist njDon a mistake, -^hich, 
 however, has been perpetuated through several editions ; but 
 it is not "without its importance. No man really familiar 
 •with iiie history of Scotland could have committed such a 
 blunder : he might just as well have talked of the good Sir 
 Joshua of Douglas, or of Tobias Randolph, Earl of Moray. 
 And, therefore, in repeated instances, when Scotland or 
 the Scots are mentioned, we find Mr. Macaulay's assertions 
 at variance with the ordinary records of history. Take, 
 for example, his statement that "the Scottish people" had 
 "butchered their first James in liis bedchamber," which 
 is just about as correct as if we were to say that the 
 people of France butchered Henry lY., because that monarch 
 was assassinated by Ravillac, or that the British nation ap- 
 proves of regicide, because a maniac has fired at the Queen ! 
 Surely Mr. Macaulay, before exerting his rhetoric to blacken 
 the character of so eminent a personage as Lord Dundee, 
 might have taken the trouble to consult some record of the 
 peerage for his name. 
 
 Mr. Macaulay is pleased to stigmatise Claverhouse by using 
 the epithet " rapacious." This is altogether a new charge, 
 and for it he has not vouchsafed the slightest authority. 
 Cruel, bloody, and profane, are epithets with which we are 
 familiar : writers on the Covenanting side have used them over 
 and over again ; and if the narratives upon which they pro- 
 ceed, and which many of them conscientiously believe, were 
 authenticated, they are unquestionably justified in doing so. 
 But rapacity is, I repeat, a new charge. The worst foe of 
 Claverhouse never yet hinted that there was anything mean 
 or sordid in his disposition. No instance of bribery can be 
 alleged against him ; he levied no contributions ; and with 
 every opportunity within his reach of amassing a large for- 
 tune, he died in comparative poverty. I am certain that no 
 man, really acquainted with Scottish history, whatever be 
 his political or traditional opinions, will gainsay me in this ; 
 and as this particular charge has been brought forward 
 
328 APPENDIX. 
 
 without a shadow of authority to support it, I can only- 
 express my regret that an author who can write so well 
 should be so reckless in the choice of his epithets. 
 
 The " profanity" imputed to Claverhouse deserves a few 
 words. So far as I can discover, the charge is founded 
 upon certain expressions said to have been used by him 
 immediately after John Brown, the carrier of Priestfield, 
 was shot. If used, the charge is amply proven. I shall 
 presently have occasion to consider the historical vouchers 
 for this remarkable story, upon Avhich so great stress has 
 been laid, and to state my grounds for maintaining that it 
 is utterly unworthy of credence. In the mean time, and as 
 to the general charge, I shall content myself by quoting the 
 words of a witness who was personally acquainted with 
 Dundee, and whose testimony is liable to no other excep- 
 tion, save what may be cast upon him in his capacity of a 
 gentleman and a Jacobite. " His Lordship was so nice in 
 point of honor, and so true to his word, that he never 
 was known once to break it. From this exactness it was 
 that he once lost the opportunity of an easy victory over 
 Mackay in Strathspey, by dismissing Captain Forbes ; who, 
 meeting the two troopers sent by the Lord Kilsyth, not 
 only discovered that intelligence, but the neighborhood of 
 the Highland army, as I have formerly related. This is 
 the only real error chargeable in his conduct, while he 
 commanded in this war. But this is the more excusable, 
 that it proceeded from a principle of religion, whereof he 
 was strictly observant ; for, besides family worship performed 
 regularly evening and morning at his house, he retired to 
 his closet at certain hours and employed himself in that 
 duty. This I affirm upon the testimony of several that 
 lived in his neighborhood in Edinburgh, where his office 
 of Privy Councillor often obliged him to be ; and particu- 
 larly from a Presbyterian lady who lived long in the storey 
 or house immediately below his Lordship's, and who was 
 otherwise so rigid jn her opinions that she could not believe 
 
THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 329 
 
 a good thing of any person of his persuasion, till his conduct 
 rectified her mistake." * 
 
 As for the general morality of the dragoons, I do not feel 
 myself called upon to prove that they were faultless pat- 
 terns of virtue. I shall not aver, as Mr. Macaulay has done 
 of the Puritans, " that, in that singular camp, no riot was 
 heard, no drunkenness or gambling was seen." I believe 
 that austerity was never yet the prevaihng characteristic 
 of any barrack, and I sliould be sorry to overstate my case 
 by random laudations even of the Scottish Life-guards, But 
 when we are gravely told that these soldiers " used in their 
 revels to play at the torments of hell, and to call each other 
 by the names of devils and damned souls," one's curiosity 
 is certainly excited. The pastime is fortunately not a com- 
 mon one ; it was not recommended in the Book of Sports, 
 which gave sucli exceeding offence to the Puritans ; and the 
 nomenclature alleged to be employed would imply an in- 
 timate knowledge of demonology far from usual with tlie 
 soldiery of tliat period. I look to Mr. Macaulay's note for 
 his authority, and I find it appended in the shape of the vene- 
 rated name of Wodrow. 
 
 English readers can hardly be supposed to know wliat 
 manner of man this Wodrow was, whom, in preference to 
 any other chronicler, Mr. Macaulay has thought fit to follow 
 with reference to that period of Scottish history. It may 
 therefore be projaer, very shortly, to give a brief account of 
 his writings, style, notions, and credibility. 
 
 Robert Wodrow, minister at Eastwood, is tolerably well 
 known to Scottish antiquaries as the author of two works — 
 the History of tlie Church of Scotland, and the Analecta ; or 
 Materials for a History of Remarkable Providences, mostly 
 relating to Scotch llinisters and Christians. He was born in 
 1679, was consequently a mere child at the time of the Re- 
 volution, and gave his history to the world in 1721. That 
 
 • Memoirs of Sir Ewen Cameron of Locheill. 
 
330 APPENDIX. 
 
 
 history, according to his own account^ was compiled partly 
 from existing documents, and partly from the narrative of 
 persons who had orally communicated with the author ; 
 and a most extraordinary history it is, in every sense of the 
 word. 
 
 Born in a credulous age, "Wodrow was endowed with a 
 power of credulity which altogether transcended bounds. 
 He has not unaptly been styled the Scottish Aubrey, though 
 Aubrey by the side of Wodrow would almost appear a 
 skeptic. The Romish miracles sink into insignificance 
 compared with those recored by Mr, Macaulay's pet author- 
 ity. But for the numerous, though possibly unintentional 
 profanities, and the grossness of some of the anecdotes 
 which are scattered over its pages, the Analecta would be 
 pleasant reading. AVe learn from Wodrow how Elizabeth 
 Kennedy, sister to Hugh Kennedy, Provost of Ayr, being 
 extremely ill of stone, declined submitting to a surgical 
 operation, and how the calculus was miraculously dissolved 
 at the intercession of a prayer-meeting assembled in her 
 house. We read of corpses sitting up in bed, announcing 
 to the terrified mournei's the judgments of another world ; 
 of Mr. John Campbell of Craigie, minister, who had an in- 
 terview with the devil, not however unprofitabl}'^, for he 
 thereby escaped eating a poisoned hen for supper ; of rats 
 which were sent as special warnings to the Reverend Mr. 
 David Williamson ; of the ghost of a barber which appeared 
 to the Reverend Mr. WiUiam Leslie ; of a gifted horse in 
 Annandale, which could cure the king's evil; and of a 
 thousand similar instances of ludicrous superstition. These 
 anecdotes are not confined to private individuals — for per- 
 sons of note and name are made to figure in the pages of 
 Wodrow. Take as an example the following morceau of 
 history, gravely narrated of Archbishop Sharpe : "At 
 another time. Archbishop Sharpe, presiding in the Privy 
 Council, was earnest to have Janet Douglas brought before 
 that board, accusing her of sorcery and witchcraft. When 
 
THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 331 
 
 she was bronglit, she vindicated herself of that alleged 
 crime ; declaring, though she knew very well who were 
 witches, yet she was not one herself, for she was endeavor- 
 ing t<f discover those secret hellish plots, and to counter- 
 mine the kingdom of darkness. The Archbishop insisted 
 she might be sent away to the King's plantations in the 
 West Indies. She only dropt one word to the Bishop : — 
 ' My Lord,' says she, ' who was you with in your closet on 
 Saturday night last, betwixt twelve and one o'clock ?' upon 
 which the Bishop changed his countenance, and turned 
 black and pale, and then no more was said. When the 
 council rose up, the Duke of Rothes called Janet into a 
 room, and inquired at her privately ' who that person was 
 that was with the Bishop V She refused at first ; but he 
 promising upon his word of honor to warrant her at all 
 hands, and that she should not be sent to America, she 
 says, ' My Lord, it was the meikle black devil !' " 
 
 This is in reality a mild specimen of Wodrow ; but it 
 may suffice to show the mental constitution of the man. 
 Against his fairness I shall make no charge, though Mr. 
 Kirkpatrick Sharpe, in his notes appended to Kir ton's 
 History, has, I think, incontestably shown, from Wodrow's 
 existing manuscripts, that he purposely garbled, or at least 
 omitted to quote, such parts of the correspondence of the 
 Ai-chbishop of St. Andrews as would have effectually refuted 
 some of the calumnies then current against that unfortu- 
 nate prelate. At present, I merely look to Wodrow as Mr. 
 Macaulay's informant; and I find, on referring to the his- 
 tory, what the following passage is founded on. " Dreadful," 
 says Wodrow, "were the acts of wickedness done by the 
 soldiers at this time, and Lagg was as deep as any. They 
 used to take to themselves in their cabals the names of 
 devils, and persons they supposed to be in hell, and with 
 whips to lash one another as a jest upon hell. But I shall 
 draw a veil over many of their dreadful impieties I meet 
 with in papers written at this time!" It is hardly worth 
 
332 APPENDIX. 
 
 ■while to remark that this passage does not, in the sh'ghtest 
 degree, refer to the troops under the command of Claver- 
 house, but to the mihtia or local force which was raised bj 
 Grierson of Lagg. This story is specially told of Grierson by 
 Howie in his Blographia Scoticana, a work to which I allude 
 simply for the purpose of showing against whom the legend 
 was directed. For any autlientic historical information we 
 shall search that Apocrypha in vain. So much for Mr, Mac- 
 aulay's accuracy in applying the materials of his veracious 
 authority ; but surely the absurdity of such stuff renders re- 
 futation unnecessary. Mr. Macau! ay, however, goes beyond 
 Wodrow even in minuteness, for in a subsequent paragraph he 
 particularizes the very names wliich were used, as those of 
 Beelzebub and ApoUyon ! He might with equal propriety 
 have adopted the phraseology of ancient Pistol, and gravely 
 informed us that the Scottish mode of military accost was, 
 " How now, Mephistophilus ?" 
 
 We next arrive at the story of John Brown, which I am 
 particularly anxious to expiscate. This tale is usually 
 brought forward as the crowning instance of the cruelty of 
 Claverhouse ; it has repeatedly formed the subject of ro- 
 mance and illustration ; and authors of no mean power 
 have vied with each other in heightening the horror of ita 
 details. Some of the grosser fables regarding that disturbed 
 period have lost their hold of the popular belief — for ex- 
 aggeration may sometimes be carried so far as entirely to 
 neutralize its purpose. But the Priestficld tragedy is still 
 an article of the peasant's creed ; and, as it has hitherto 
 been allowed to pass without examination, it has furnished 
 an overwhelming reply to those who deny the autlienticity 
 of the mass of Covenanting tradition. I am not asliamed to 
 own that I have a deep regard for the memory of Lord Dundee 
 — a regard founded on a firm belief in his public and private 
 virtues, his high and chivalrous ht)nor, and his unshaken 
 loyalty to his sovereign. But those feelings, however strong, 
 would never lead me to vindicate an action of wanton and 
 
THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 333 
 
 barbarous cruelty, or even attempt to lessen the stigma by a 
 frivolous or dishonest excuse. No cause was ever effectually 
 servecl*by mean evasion, any more than it can be promoted 
 by unblushing exaggeration or by gross perversion of facts. 
 The chaige has been distinctly made, and I now propose to 
 examine the authority upon which it is founded, as gravely 
 and minutely as though it concerned the character of the 
 living, and not merely the memory of the dead. Mr. Mac- 
 aulay shall speak for himself 
 
 "John Brown, a poor carrier of Lanarkshire, was, for 
 his singular piety, commonly called the Christian carrier. 
 Many years later, when Scotland enjoyed rest, prosperity, and 
 religious freedom, old men, who remembered the evil days, 
 described him as one versed in divine things, blameless in 
 life, and so peaceable that the tyrants could find no offence 
 in him, except that he absented himself from the public 
 worship of the Episcopalians. On the first of May he was 
 cutting turf, when he was seized by Claverhouse's dragoons, 
 rapidly examined, convicted of non -conformity, and sen- 
 tenced to death. It is said that even among the soldiers it 
 was not easy to find fln executioner, for the wife of the poor 
 man was present. She led one little child by the hand ; it 
 was easy to see that she was about to give birth to another ; 
 and even those wild and hard-hearted men, who nicknamed 
 one another Beelzebub and Apollyon, shrank from the great 
 wickedness of butchering her husband before her face. The 
 prisoner meanwhile, raised above himself by the near pros- 
 pect of eternity, prayed loud and fervently as one inspired, 
 till Claverhouse, in a fury, shot him dead. It was reported 
 by ciedible witnesses that the widow cried out in her 
 agony — ' Well, sir, well ; the day of reckoning will come ;' 
 and that the murderer replied — ' To man I can answer for 
 what I have done ; and as for God, I will take him into my 
 own hand !' Yet it was rumored that even on his seared 
 conscience and adamantine heart the dying ejaculations of 
 his victim made an impression that was never effaced." 
 
334 APPENDIX. 
 
 Such is Mr. Macaulay's statement — -well "written, simple, 
 and affecting. Wodrow is the sole authority upon which 
 he founds his narrative, and it is fair to say that he has 
 deviated but slightly from that chronicle, except in one 
 material point. Wodrow does not profess to specif i/ upon 
 what charge Broiun was examined and condemned. When 
 Mr. Macaulay says that he was "convicted of non-confor- 
 mity," he speaks without any text; and I shall presently 
 have occasion to show that his assumption is radically 
 wrong. But, as he substantially adopts the tale of Wodrow, 
 it is necessary to go back to that writer's sources of informa- 
 tion. 
 
 The execution of John Brown is said to have taken place 
 on the 1st Ma}'-, 1685. The Revolution occurred in 1688 ; 
 and Lord Dundee fell at Killiecrankie on the 27th July, 
 1689. Wodrow's History was first pubhshed in 1721, exactly 
 thirty-six years after the alleged murder. 
 
 These dates are of the utmost importance in considering 
 a matter of this kind. The Episcopalian party, which ad- 
 hered to the cause of King James, was driven from power 
 at the Revolution, and the Episcopal church proscribed. 
 No mercy was shown to opponents in the literary war which 
 followed ; every species of invective and . vituperation was 
 lavished upon the supporters of the fallen dynasty. Yet, for 
 thirty-three years after the Revolution, the details of this atro- 
 cious murder were never revealed to the puhl'c ! Nowhere in 
 print or pamphlet, memoir, history, or declaration, published 
 previously to Wodrow, does even the name of John Brown 
 occur, save once, in the Cloud of V/itncsscs, a work which 
 appeared in 1714; and in that work no details are given, 
 the narrative being comprehended in a couple of lines. I have 
 searched for it amidst all the records of the so-called martyi"- 
 ology, but cannot tind a trace of it elsewhere, until the Reve- 
 rend Robert Wodrow thought fit to place the tale, with all its 
 circumstantiality, in his History. How, then, came Wodrow 
 to know anything about the murder of John Brown ? He 
 
THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 335 
 
 could have had no personal knowledge or recollection of the 
 circumstance, for he was not quite six years of age at the 
 time when it is said to have occurred. He has not offered 
 one scrap of evidence in support of his allegation, and 
 merely leaves it to be inferred that he had derived the 
 story from that most uncertain of all souices, tradition. 
 Even at the hands of the most honest, cautious, and scru- 
 pulous chronicler, we should hesitate to receive a tale of 
 this kind ; but from Wodrow, who is certainly entitled to 
 claim none of the above adjectives as applicable to himself, 
 who will take it ? No one, I should hope, whose prejudice is 
 not so strong as to lead him to disregard the most ordinary 
 verification of evidence. Claverhouse had enemies enough 
 to insure the circulation of such a damning tale, supposing 
 it to have been true, long before he had lain for two-and- 
 thirty years in his grave. He was not without eulogists, 
 wdiose tribute to his memory was as gall and Avonnwood to 
 their opponents, and in whose teeth, most assuredly, the 
 details of such a dastardly and unprovoked murder would 
 have been cast. Yet no man charged him with it. More 
 than a generation jDassed away — the . two kingdom's had been 
 united, and Mar's insurrection quelled, before the miracle- 
 mongering minister of Eastwood ventured, upon no docu- 
 mentary authority at all, to concoct and publish the story 
 which Mr. Macaulay has adopted without a scruple. 
 
 After what I have said, it may fairly be asked whether the 
 whole of this story sliould be considered a mere myth or 
 fable hatched from the bi"ain, or palmed upon the easy cre- 
 dulity of Robert Wodrow, or whether there are any grounds 
 for believing that it is at least founded upon fact ? To this 
 I should reply, that, from other testimony, the character and 
 complexion of wliich I shall immediately analyze, it appears 
 to be true that John Brown of Priestfield, or Priesthill, did 
 actually suffer by military execution, but that the same 
 testimony utterly contradicts Wodrow, and his follower Mr. 
 Macaulay, iu every important particular relative to the 
 
336 APPENDIX. 
 
 details. Mr. Macaulay may not have known that such tes- 
 timony ever existed, for even the most pains-taking historian 
 is sm-e to pass over some material in so wide a field ; never- 
 theless, since the point has been mooted,* it may be a satis- 
 faction to him to learn that his version of the story has long 
 ago been repudiated in essentialibtts "hj the most popular 
 work that ever emanated from the Covenanting printing- 
 press. 
 
 Patrick "Walker, packman, and publisher at the Bristo 
 Port of Edinburgh, was concerned at a very early age in the 
 Scottish troubles. In 1682, he and two other Covenanters 
 were present at the death of one James Gordon, a volunteer 
 in the Earl of Airlie's troop, who it seems was shot through 
 the head. "Walker, in his own account of this exploit, first 
 published in 1^27, cautiously abstains from indicating the 
 exact perjDetrator of the deed, but leaves the glory thereof 
 to be shared among the triumvirate. The sum of his con- 
 fession amounts simply to this — that he, Gordon, " got a 
 shot in his head out of a pocket-pistol, rather fit foi* divert- 
 ing a boy, than killing such a furious, mad, brisk man ; 
 which, notwithstanding, killed him dead." He was, more- 
 over, says "Walker, " seeking his own death, and got it." 
 For this affair Walker was imprisoned, and sentenced to 
 transportation, but made his escape, and, after various 
 vicissitudes, set himself down in his old age to compile the 
 Memoirs of the Covenanters. The first of these tracts did not 
 appear until after "Wodrow's History was published, and 'in- 
 tense is the contempt expressed by the persecuted packman 
 for the slipslop of the fair-weather mhiister, whom he accuses 
 of positive dishonesty. " I wish him," says Walker, in his 
 Vindication of Cameron, "repentance and forgiveness for 
 what unaccountable wrongs he bas done by his pen to the 
 Testimony, and to the names of Christ's slain witnesses for 
 the same. For myself I am easy ; my tongue is yet in my 
 head, and my pen in my hand ; and what I have to say 
 upon that head for myself, and those with me, will run faster 
 
THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 337 
 
 and further than he has feet to go. I am reflected upon for 
 my fliot giving ]\Ir. Wodrow better information. Answer. — 
 Before his history came out, vrhen I heard of his manu- 
 scripts going from hand to hand among the Long-heads, (I 
 knew it would be patched up according to the backsliding 
 spirit of the day,) I desired the Rev. Mr. James Webster to 
 give me account when he came to his house, that I might 
 have a short conversation with him. Mrs. Webster told him 
 my desire. He answered, he depended on the records of 
 that time." In the same work he characterizes Wodrow'3 
 statements as " lies and groundless stories ;" and, moreover, 
 piously expresses a wish " that Mr. Wodrow's w^ell wishers 
 would pray for him, that he may come to himself and be of 
 a right mind, who has been so lavish of his misrepresenta- 
 tions and groundless reflections." Such is Walker's opi- 
 nion of the authenticity of Wodrow's History, though his 
 remarks are of course principally directed to misrepresenta- 
 tions of the champions of the Covenant. But they are use- 
 ful as showing his impression of the intrinsic value of the 
 work. 
 
 Walker's best and earliest tract is the Life of Peden. 
 This originally appeared in 1724, and is still widely circu- 
 lated among the peasantry of Scotland. It is a strange mix- 
 ture of earnestness and superstition ; sometimes rugged and 
 even coarse in its style, and yet at times rising to a point of 
 real though homely pathos. Peden, the subject of the me- 
 moir, was an intercommuned minister, whom the Covenan- 
 ters asserted to have been endowed with miraculous pro- 
 phetical powers. He was concerned in the insurrection of 
 Pentland, and sentenced to banishment, but liberated by the 
 leniency of the government ; notwithstanding which he re- 
 lapsed into his old courses, became the active agent of rebel- 
 lion, and so notorious that he was expressly marked for cap- 
 ture. Of his frequent interviews with the devil, his gifts of 
 second-sight and divination, and his power of casting out 
 unclean spirits, I bhall say nothing here. Walker faithfully 
 
 15 
 
338 APPENDIX. 
 
 records at least a hundred such instances, which are suffi- 
 cient to entitle Peden to take rank beside Apollonious of 
 Tyana. He appears, however, in actual flesh and blood con- 
 nected with the tragedy of John Brown, 
 
 "Walker's narrative commences thus : — " In the besrinninor 
 of May, 1685, he (Peden) came to the house of John Brown 
 and Isobel Weir, whom he had married before he last went 
 to Ireland, where he stayed all night ; and in the morning, 
 when he took his farewell, he came out at the door saying 
 to himself, ' Poor woman, a fearful morning,' twice over — ' a 
 dark misty morning ! ' The next morning, between five and 
 six hours, the said John Brown having performed the wor- 
 ship of God in his family, was going with a spade in his 
 hand to make ready some peat ground, the mist being very 
 dark, knew not until bloody cruel Claverhouse compassed 
 him with three troops of horses, brought him to his house, 
 and tliere examined him." Walker, like Wodrow, is silent as 
 to the nature of tlie charge. Then comes the sentence — " his 
 wife standing by with her child in her arms, that she had 
 brought forth to him, and another child of his first wife's :" 
 and the execution is tlms narrated — " Claverhouse ordered 
 six soldiers to shoot him ; the most part of the bullets came 
 upon his head, which scattered his brains upon the ground." 
 
 Such is Walker's account of the matter, forty years having 
 in the mean time intervened ; and whether strictly correct 
 or no, it entirely alters the complexion of the case as 
 stated by Mr. Macaulay. Instead of John Brown being one 
 "in whom the tyrants could find no offence except that 
 he absented liimself from the public worship of the Episco- 
 palians," we find him in intercourse with a man who, what- 
 ever might be his spiritual gifts, was a notorious outlaw and a 
 rebel; the whole romance about the reluctance of the sol- 
 diers vanishes ; " the wild and liard-hearted men" are at 
 once amenable to the authority of their commanding ofiicer ; 
 and the alleged murder dwindles into a case of military exe- 
 cution. 
 
THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 339 
 
 Of the two bistories, that of Walker is unquestionably 
 most hkely to resemble the truth. He professes to have 
 heard some of the details from the wife of Brown, whereas 
 Wodrow gives us no manner of authority at all. There are 
 however, suspicious circumstances even in Walker's narra- 
 tive, which might be noticed. For example, in the original 
 edition of his pamphlet, he states that the first person who 
 came to Mrs. Brown, wliilst she was watching by her hus- 
 band's body, was " that old singular Christian woman in the 
 Cummerhead, named Elizabeth Menzies, three miles dis- 
 tant;" but in the third edition, this matron, retaining her 
 residence and encomium, is transmuted into "Jean Brown." 
 Surely these two cannot signify one and the same person, 
 and we are therefore left in doubt which particular female 
 was the witness. But it is not worth while going into 
 minute criticism. Walker, who was a far more determined 
 Covenanter than Wodrow, was not likely to have under- 
 stated the circumstances, neither does he profess to know 
 upon what charge Brown was examined. I think, however, 
 I can throw some light upon this person's political delin- 
 quencies ; and, strangely enough, my authority is derived 
 from an official document which will be found in the Ap- 
 pendix to Wodrow. 
 
 " John Brown of Priestfield, in the parish of Muirkirk," * 
 figures in the list of fugitives appended to the Royal Pro- 
 clamation of 5th May, 1684. The list is of those who had 
 been regularly cited as rebels in arms, or resetters of rebels, 
 but who had failed to appear. John Brown, therefore, had 
 been outlawed a year before his death, and certainly for a 
 
 * In order that there may be no caviHing about the identity of the 
 name or designation, (for the place of Brown's residence has been 
 variously printed as "Priestfield," "Prieslhill," and "the Preshill,") I 
 subjoin the exact words of Wodrow, in his account of the execution. " I 
 may well begin with the horrid murder of that excellent person, John 
 Brown of Priestfield, in the parish of Muirkirk^ by Claverhovse, the 
 first of this month." 
 
340 APPENDIX. 
 
 very different offence than that " of absenting himself from 
 the pubhc Avorsliip of the Episcopahans." Undoubtedly it 
 was considered, in tbe eye of the law, an offence to attend 
 armed conventicles, where fanatical and intercommuned 
 preachers wrested texts from Scripture into encomiums on 
 sedition, treason, and murder : that, however, was a very dif- 
 ferent thing from non-attendance upon the curate. Wodrow 
 acknowledges that Brown "had been a long time upon his 
 hiding in the fields," a circumstance surely irreconcilable 
 with his entire consciousness of innocence, but easily ex- 
 plained on the ground that he was already a rebel and an 
 outlaw. To say tliat he was tried and sentenced for non- 
 conformity is to hazard an assertion, not only without 
 foundation, but in the very teetli of history. I maintain — 
 and I know that I am borne out by incontrovertible proof — 
 that, at the time in question, there was no manner of per- 
 secution exercised in Scotland against any body of men what- 
 ever, on account of their religious tenets. 
 
 Mr. Macaulay, whilst dilating upon the harsh usage -of the 
 Covenanters, never once affords us a glimpse of the opposite 
 side of the picture. His object is to show that James VII,, 
 immediately on his accession to the throne, commenced a 
 relentless religious persecution ; and accordingly, he ignores 
 the position of afltairs in Scotland during the last six months 
 of the reign of Charles II. I have examined very minutely 
 the original Records of the Privy Council preserved in the 
 public archives of Edinburgh, and these, taken in connexion 
 with Fountainhall's exj^lanatory Diaries, furnish ample 
 proof that the charges brought against King James are 
 without foundation. I propose very shortly to inquire into 
 this matter. 
 
 Charles II. died 6th February, 16S5. Let us see what was 
 the state of the kingdom toward the close of the preceding 
 year. 
 
 In September, 1684, the southern and western shires were 
 BO turbulent that the Privy Council found it necessary to 
 
THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 34l 
 
 issue four special commissions of Justiciary for those dis- 
 tricts alone. " In the month of June last," says the royal 
 proclamation of 22d Jul}^, " about two hundred armed rebels 
 have presumed, to tlie great contempt of our authority, to 
 march openly through several of the said sliires for many 
 days together, threatening the ortliodox clergy and mur- 
 dering our soldiers; and have at last, when they found 
 it convenient, disappeared, being certainly and undeniably 
 reset by the inhabitants of those shires, wnthout sufficient 
 diligence done by the sheriffs and inhabitants of the said 
 shires, either for dissipating them, or for discovering their 
 resetters, and bringing them to justice." How far those 
 special commissions succeeded in repressing crime may be 
 judged of by the following events: — 
 
 " 2Qth Nov., 1684. — The news came this morning to Edin- 
 burgh that some of the desperate phanatiques had last night 
 fallen upon two of the Kings life-guards, viz., Thomas Ken- 
 now\iy and Duncan Stewart, who were lying at the Swyn 
 Abbay, beyond Blackburn in Linlithgowshire, and murdered 
 them' most barbarously. This was to execute what they had 
 threatened in their declaration of war." 
 
 " \2th Dec, 1684:. — News came to the Privy Council that 
 the wild phanatiques had fallen in upon one Peirson, minister 
 at Carsphairn in Galloway, a great dilator of them, and 
 zealous of rebuking them in his sermons, and killed him. They 
 ridiculously keep mock couits of justice, and cite any they 
 judge their inveterate enemies to them, and read probation, 
 and condemn them, and thereafter murder them." * 
 
 Some of the murderers of Mr. Peiison were afterwards 
 taken and shot. They also have been elevated to the rank 
 of martyrs. The epitaph of one of them, Robert Mitcliell, 
 is printed among the inscriptions at the conclusion of the 
 Cloud of Witnesses. 
 
 On the 28th of January thereafter, the Privy Council was 
 
 • Fountainhall's Historical SVotices. 
 
342 APPENDIX. 
 
 informed that Captain Urquliart, and several of bis men, 
 had been waylaid and murdered in Wigtonshire * 
 
 These specimens may serve to show the temper of the 
 Covenanters about the close of 1684. 'Next, as to the 
 alleged fiery persecutions of James, " which," says Mr. Mac- 
 aulay, " waxed hotter than ever from the day on which he 
 became sovereign." Tliat day was the 6tli of February, and 
 on the 26th of the same month he issued a full pardon and 
 iyidemnity to all offenders below the rank of heritors, (with 
 the exception only of those who were actuall}'^ guilty of the 
 murders of Archbishop Sharpe, JVIi-. Peirson, and two others,) 
 and that clogged with no other condition than the taking of 
 the oath of allegiance. The proclamation was published on 
 the 2d of March, and on the ] 4th the Privy Council ordered 
 all prisoners whatsoevei' to be set at liberty, " upon their 
 abjuring the fiinatical declaration of war, and likewise 
 solemnly giving their oaths never to rise against his Majesty 
 or his authority." Surely never yet was persecution inaugu- 
 rated by such liberal measures as these ! It is right to ob- 
 serve, that the reader will fail to discover the smallest men- 
 tion of them in the pages of Mr. Macaulay. 
 
 In less than ten days after this jail-delivery, the disturb- 
 ances began anew. On the 24th of March, " the Lords of 
 his Majesty's Privy Council being certainly informed that 
 a number of desperate rebels have the boldness and confi- 
 dence openly to go up and down the shire of Ayr, and other 
 adjacent shires and places, and to enter houses, take away 
 arms and provisions at their pleasure, without any notice 
 taken of them either by the heritors or commons, to the 
 great affront of his Majesty's authority," commissioned 
 Colonel James Douglas to proceed to the disaffected dis- 
 tricts, with full powers to repress the disorders. The com- 
 mission was signed on the 27th by the whole members of 
 the Privy Council who were i:)resent, " except Claverhouse," 
 
 * Records of the Privy Council, in General Record Office, Edinburgh. 
 
THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 343 
 
 — a remarkable exception, specially noted, to which I shall 
 presently refer. Of the same date, a letter from the Privy 
 Council was forwarded to the Earl of Dumfries, sheriff of 
 Ayr^ requesting immediate particulars, as it appeared that 
 his lordship's house had been one of those which were ran- 
 sacked. 
 
 Douglas seems to have entered into his functions with 
 zeal, but not to have been altogether successful. The insur- 
 rection continued to increase, and on the 21st April, General- 
 Lieutenant Drummond, Master-General of the Ordnance, was 
 appointed Commissioner and Justiciar in tlie southern and 
 western shires, with plenary powers. The Parhament of 
 Scotland did not meet until two days afterwards. 
 
 These insurrections had their origin in a deeper cause than 
 religious dissent or local turbulence. Mr. Macaulay, who con- 
 fidently says that " there was no insurrection in any part of 
 our island on the 1st May," — probably considering the Ayr- 
 shire rising as a mere sportive demonstration — has a note in 
 refutation of the editor of the Oxford edition of Burnet, who 
 supposes that John Brown might have been mixed up with 
 the designs of Argyle. He says that Argyle was at that date 
 in Holland. True ; but he sailed for Scotland on the 2c?, and 
 the Privy Council had been aware of his designs as early as 
 the 21st April On that day they ordered 1200 Highlanders 
 to be sent into the western shires, " upon rumors of fears of 
 Argyle's landing ;" and Drummond, in his commission, was 
 empowered to take those Highlanders under his command. 
 On the 28th, an act was framed for putting the whole king- 
 dom in a posture of defence, expressly on account of Argyle ; 
 and on tlie last of that month, John Campbell of Succo was 
 arrested for ti-easonable correspondence with that infatuated 
 nobleman. Nor can there be a shadow of a doubt that the 
 disturbances in the west were connected with the meditated 
 landing. 
 
 Is, then, the conjecture of the editor of Burnet so exceed- 
 ingly extravagant? I do not think so. How came John 
 
344 ArPENDix. 
 
 Brown, as Wodrow says, to liave been "a long time upon 
 his hiding in the fields ? " He was free by the indemnity, 
 unless, indeed, he had refused the oath of allegiance, or 
 committed some subseqiient act which put him beyond the 
 pale of the law. In the report of a committee of the Privy 
 Council, made on the 10th of March, I find the following 
 entry : — " John Brown, an old man in the fugitive roll, 
 refuses the allegiance, and so ought not to have the benefit 
 of the indemnity." If this be the same person with the 
 carrier of Priestfield, he was at that time a prisoner, and 
 therefore must either have made his escape, or, having 
 taken the oath, subsequently joined the rebels : in either of 
 which cases his hiding in the fields is intelligible enough, 
 and so also is his summary execution when arrested. But 
 in no way can it be shown that he suffered on account of 
 his religious tenets ; and it is very well worthy of obser- 
 vation that the act against Conventicles, which has been so 
 much abused, was not passed by the Scottish Parliament 
 until several days after the date in question. Let the candid 
 and impartial reader compare these dates, circumstances, 
 and evidences with the narrative of Mr. Macaulay, and I have 
 little fear of his arriving at the same conclusions with that 
 eloquent historian. 
 
 It seems to me, therefore, quite clear that John Brown 
 was executed as a rebel. He may be considered a martyr 
 in the same sense as Hackstoun of Rathiliet and Robert 
 Mitchell, wlio had imbrued their bauds in the blood of the 
 Primate of St. Andrews and of the minister of Carsphairn, 
 or as the rebels who adhered to the atrocious Declaration 
 of Sanquhar ; but I cannot see what other claim he has to 
 •the title. He was fugitated the year before; he had either 
 refused or had forfeited the benefit of the indemnity; he 
 was trafficking with a notorious outlaw ; and he is admitted 
 to have been in hiding within six weeks after the indem- 
 nity was proclaimed. All this, at least, is patent and 
 proven ; and it is utterly inconsistent with his innocence, 
 
THE VISCOUXT OF DUNDEE. 3ib 
 
 even if we should stretch charity so far as to suppose that, 
 during those six -weeks, he did not join one of those armed 
 bands of rebels who were then perambulating and plunder- 
 ing the country. The aggravations, which constitute the 
 romance of the story, have been already disposed of Patrick 
 "Walker, the stauncher Cameronian of the two, gives Robert 
 Wodrow the lie direct. 
 
 This note has already extended to such a length that I ara 
 really unwilling to add a word more on the subject. But the 
 duty which I have undertaken compels me to state my belief 
 that Grahame of Claverhouse had no share whatever in re- 
 pressing the disturbances previous to the landing of Argyle^ 
 and that he was not present at the execution of Jolm Brown. 
 Tradition of course is against me, but when I find no articu- 
 late voice uttered by tradition until after the expiry of thirty 
 years, I ara not disposed to give much weight to it as an 
 accessary, far less to accept it as reasonable evidence. My 
 reasons are as follows : — 
 
 Claverhouse was superseded in his military command by 
 Colonel James Douglas, brother of Queensberry, who was 
 then High Treasurer. The district assigned to Douglas was 
 that of Ayr, the shire in which John Brown resided ; and 
 Claverliouse, being of equal military rank, did not serve 
 under him, as is a^^parent fiom the records of the Privy 
 Council, the meetings of which he attendetl daily until the 
 month of April. These recoids refute many of the scan- 
 dalous tales propagated by Crookshank and others, who 
 depict Claverhouse as pursuing Covenanters in Nithsdale, 
 at the very moment when he was performing his duties 
 as a councillor in Edinburgh. Fountainhall tells us dis- 
 tinctly that he was superseded out of spite : he refused, in 
 his character of Privy Councillor, to sign the commission, 
 and in April he was actually omitted from the new list of 
 councillors. The following is Fountainhall's entry on that 
 occasion: — "9th April, 1685. — A Privy Council is held 
 where a new commission is produced, omitting none of the 
 
 15* 
 
346 APPENDIX. 
 
 former Privy Counsellors but only Colonel Grabame of Cla- 
 verhouse, because of the discords we have formerly marked 
 between him and the High Treasurer and his brotlier. The 
 pretence was, that, being married in my Lord Dundonald's 
 phanatique family, it was not safe to commit the King's 
 secrets to him." The spite went even further; for a few 
 days afterwards an act of Council was passed, says Fountain- 
 hall, " in odium of Claverhouse ;" and I cannot find, in tlie 
 records of that year, the slightest trace of his having been 
 reinstated in command. It is possible, however, that he 
 might have been called out to serve under General Drum- 
 .mond, but not surely upon such duty as this. John Brown 
 must have been a very desperate rebel indeed, if a Colonel 
 of the Guards, who moreover had been a Privy Councillor, 
 and three troops of horse, were dispatched specially to arrest 
 him! If he Avas no rebel at all, but inerely a nonconformist, 
 the thing becomes absolutely incredible; for, setting aside 
 the Indemnity, can any one believe that, in the face of 
 Argylc's meditated landing, and in the midst of actual in- 
 surrection, the troops vrere leisurely employed in ferreting 
 out and shooting sucli of the peasantry as did not worship 
 with the curates ? But vulgar credulity owns no limits, and 
 the lapse of thirty years is sufficient to account for the cur- 
 rency of the grossest fable. 
 
 In estimating the character of the dead, some weight 
 surely ought to be given to the opinions of contemporaries. 
 I shall cite merely one — that of Dr. Monro, the Principal of 
 the University of Edinburgh. At the inquiry instituted 
 before the Visitors in 1690, it was alleged, as a special article 
 of dittay against tlie Reverend Principal, that he had rejoiced 
 at the victory of Lord Dundee. After calling upon his 
 accuser for proofs, the Doctor thus boldly expressed him- 
 self: — "The libeller does not think I rejoiced at the fall of 
 my Lord Dundee ! I assure him of the contrary ; for no 
 gentleman, soldier, scholar, or civilized citizen, will find 
 fault with me for this. I had an extraordinary value for 
 
THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 347 
 
 him ; and sucli of his enemies as retain any generosity -will 
 acknowledge he deserved it." * But what generosity, or 
 evejj what regard for truth, could be expected from creatures 
 of the stamp of "Wodrow ? 
 
 Mr. Macaulay is peculiarly unfortunate on the subject of 
 Claverhouse. I say nothing of omissions; though I must 
 take the liberty, with all deference, of remarking that it 
 does appear somewhat strange to find in a history, which 
 recounts with sucli minute satisfaction every instance 
 of desertion from the fallen side, no notice taken of 
 the loyalty of those who remained steadfiist to their oath 
 and their allegiance. In an impartial narrative, one might 
 expect to* see recorded the gallant advice and chivalrous 
 offer made by Lord Dundee to his sovereign, before the 
 latter quitted his dominions ; for surely devotion to a losing 
 cause is worthy of honor and respect, and should receive 
 it from a generous antagonist. But historians undoubtedly 
 have the privilege of omitting what they please, and, in this 
 instance, it is sufficient to note that the privilege has been 
 exercised. But Mr. Macaulay has thought fit to introduce 
 Claverhouse once more as an actor in an historical scene, 
 upon which lie has obviously bestowed much pains and 
 consideration. In his account of the capture and execution 
 of Aigyle, he says : — " The victorious party had not for- 
 gotten that, thirty-five years before this time, the father of 
 Argyle had been at the head of the faction which put 
 Montrose to death. Before that event, the houses of 
 Graham and Campbell had borne no love to each other, 
 and they had ever since been at deadly feud. Care was 
 taken that the prisoner should pass through the same 
 gate, and the same streets, through which Montrose had 
 been led to the same doom. llie troops who attended 
 the procession were put under the commaiid of Claverhouse, 
 
 * Presbyterian Ivquisition ; as it was lately practised affainst the Pro- 
 fessors of the College of Edinburgh. Aug. and Sept., 1690, Licensed 
 Nov. 12, 1C91. London. 
 
348 APPENDIX. 
 
 the jieraet and sternest of the race of Graham^ N'ow, al- 
 though the fatlier of Arg-yle had not only been the head of 
 the faction which put Montrose to death, but had, along 
 with his son, the inconceivable meanness to be present at 
 and exult over the indignities offered to that illustrious 
 nobleman, it is not true tliat any cliief of the gallant house 
 of Grahame stooped to imitate such a base example. Claver- 
 house was not there. The melo-dramatic effect of the 
 narrative may suffer in consequence, but at present we are 
 dealing with history, not romance. The impression which 
 every one must receive from the foregoing passage is, that 
 Claverhouse was expressly selected for the duty, in order to 
 give a passing triumph, not only to a political cauSe, but also 
 to a family feud. Knowing well how eagerly former Cove- 
 nanting writers have fastened upon any pretext for casting 
 a stain ujion the memory of Clavei-house, it was with con- 
 siderable astonishment that I found this statement brought 
 forward for the first time by Mr. ]\iacaulay. His mistake, 
 in this instance, is precisely of a piece with the others. 
 Wodrow quotes, accurately enough, the substance of tlie 
 order given for bringing Ai'gyle into Edinburgh — an order 
 which was modified in its execution. That order bears 
 that he shall be " carried up the street bare-headed, with 
 his hands tied behind his back, in the midst of Captain 
 Graham's guards." This is enough for Mr. Macaulay, who 
 forthwith pounces upon the name, and, without stopping 
 to consider who Captain Graham was, at once degrades 
 Claverhouse from his rank, and identifies him with the 
 officer of the guard ! Hence the rhetorical flourish about 
 the houses of Graham and Campbell. The real fact is, that 
 the officer in question was Patrick Graham, a younger son 
 of Inchbiaikie, Captain of the Town-guard of Edinburgh, 
 whose duty it was, ii'respective of politics or family feuds, 
 to be present at all public processions within the boundaries 
 of the city. His name is given at full length in the original 
 order; but Mr. Macaulay having previously substituted 
 
THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 349 
 
 James for John, now substitutes John for Pati-ick, and con- 
 sequently is enabled to invest the scene with an additional, 
 though spurious, hue of interest. Besides this, I am afraid 
 that Mr. Macaulay's account of the procession must be con- 
 sidered as chiefly drawn from his own imagination. Argyle 
 was by no means exposed to the same indignities which had 
 been heaped upon Montrose, neither was his doom the 
 same. Fountainhall, in his Historical Observes, a work of 
 great interest, expressly tells us, that although it was men- 
 tioned that, " when the Marquis of Montrose was brought up 
 prisoner from the Watergate in a cart, this Argile was feed- 
 ing his eyes with the sight in the Lady Murray's balcony, in 
 the Canongate, with her daughter, his lady, to whom he 
 "was newly married, and tliat he was seen smiling and 
 playing with her ;" yet that, " seeing we condemn these 
 rebellious tymes for their rigor, our great men (not know- 
 ing their owne destinies) thought it no fit copy to imitate — 
 so that all that was done to him was, that he was met at 
 the Watergate by Captain Graham's company and the hang- 
 man, who tied his liands behind his back ; and so the liang- 
 man going before him, he came up on his feet to the Castle, 
 but it was casfen to be so late that he loas little seen." It was 
 ten o'clock at night before he arrived at the Watergate, so 
 that any attempt at ignominious parade was avoided. 
 
 I cannot see how the memory of Argyle can be served by 
 such exaggerations. Whatever may have been his previous 
 delinquencies — and they w^e neither few nor trivial — he 
 met his fate like a brave man, nor did any action of his 
 life become him so much as its close. Claverhouse, who 
 would joyfully have encountered him in the field, was infin- 
 itely above the littleness of triumphing over his political op- 
 ponent. The debt due to the memory of the great Montrose 
 was fully discharged when his loyalty received its posthumous 
 tribute, and the remains of the hero were deposited by his 
 assembled kindred in the tomb. It is a pity that Mr. Mac- 
 aulay, since he must needs take Wodrow as his authority, 
 
350 APPENDIX. 
 
 has not adliered closely to his text. In matters which 
 were evidently public, and therefore open to common con- 
 tradiction, Wodrow seldom ventures to wander far astray 
 from the truth : it is in the alleys and by-lanes of his nar- 
 rative that we detect him at his habitual sin. Mr. Macaulay, 
 however, does not alwaj's follow Wodrow, but sometimes 
 misinterprets Fountainhall. Thus in his account of the riot 
 at Edinburgh on 31st January, 1686, he somewhat magnil- 
 oquently tells us that " the troops were already under arms. 
 Conspicuous among them were Claverhouse's dragoons, the 
 dread and abhorrence of Scotland." His sole authority for 
 saying so is the entry in Fountainhall's diary, that " the 
 Counsell calls in the assistance of Grame's company." Not 
 a dragoon was there. Patrick Graham, as usual, was sum- 
 moned with the Town-guard ; but that body, in the hands 
 of Mr. Macaulay, multiplies like Falstaff's famous corps in 
 buckram, and is ready on the shortest notice to figure as 
 horse, foot, or artillery. 
 
 I trust that, in the foregoing remarks, I shall not be con- 
 sidered as having transgressed the proper bounds of courtesy. 
 Mr. Macaulay's reputation is deservedly so high, that every 
 statement emanating from his pen is liable to the minutest 
 scrutiny ; and I will fairly confess tliat I was not sorry to 
 find the scattered charges which, from time to time, have 
 been brought against Lord Dundee, concentrated in his 
 volumes, since an accusation from so powerful a quarter 
 must necessarily give some additional interest to the defence, 
 however feebly executed. It is from no desire for contro- 
 versy, far less from a wish to run counter to popular opinion, • 
 that I have approached this subject. I am fully aware of 
 the weight of prejudice against which I have to contend ; 
 but from that prejudice I appeal to the truth, as I gather it 
 from the records of the time. Some of my critics, for whose 
 indulgence otherwise I am grateful, have been pleased to 
 express themselves wrathfuUy at finding any terms of eulogy 
 applied in the text towards an individual in the belief of 
 
THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. 351 
 
 ■whose misdeeds they have been hereditarily and tradition- 
 ally trained. If my belief upon such points were the same 
 with theirs, they should have had no cause of complaint. 
 It is because I am convinced, after a most careful examina- 
 tion of the evidence — not of historians only, but of such as 
 is afforded by the materials which ought to be the founda- 
 tion of authentic history — that a large portion of our national 
 annals has been most unfairly perverted, and that party 
 strife and polemical rancour have combined to distort facts 
 and to blacken names for mere temporary and ephemeral 
 purposes ; it is for these reasons solely that I have ventured 
 to go back into the disputed battle-fields of the past. I have 
 taken nothing for granted, but have given an authority for 
 each separate allegation ; and if those authorities should 
 happen to prove hostile to the preconceived impressions of 
 any one, surely I am not to blame. If anything I have said 
 can be proved to be wrong, I am willing to admit the error, 
 but not otherwise. Meanwhile I am not ashamed of having 
 attempted to defend the memory of Lord Dundee against 
 unjust accusations, not preferred during his lifetime, but 
 invented at a later period ; for I can see no generosity, far 
 less justice, in the conduct of those who are obstinately deaf 
 to all evidence in favor of one whom they have been pre- 
 vioush^ taught to condemn, and who seem to think that the 
 strength of their own cause depends upon the amount of 
 obloquy which they can contrive to heap upon its opponents. 
 
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