Old Mortality, Volume 2. Page 6

  CHAPTER VI.

  I am bound to Bothwell-hill, Where I maun either do or die. Old Ballad.

  The Battle of Bothwell Bridge--128

  There was now a pause in the military movements on both sides. Thegovernment seemed contented to prevent the rebels advancing towards thecapital, while the insurgents were intent upon augmenting andstrengthening their forces. For this purpose, they established a sort ofencampment in the park belonging to the ducal residence at Hamilton, acentrical situation for receiving their recruits, and where they weresecured from any sudden attack, by having the Clyde, a deep and rapidriver, in front of their position, which is only passable by a long andnarrow bridge, near the castle and village of Bothwell.

  Morton remained here for about a fortnight after the attack on Glasgow,actively engaged in his military duties. He had received more than onecommunication from Burley, but they only stated, in general, that theCastle of Tillietudlem continued to hold out. Impatient of suspense uponthis most interesting subject, he at length intimated to his colleaguesin command his desire, or rather his intention,--for he saw no reason whyhe should not assume a license which was taken by every one else in thisdisorderly army,--to go to Milnwood for a day or two to arrange someprivate affairs of consequence. The proposal was by no means approved of;for the military council of the insurgents were sufficiently sensible ofthe value of his services to fear to lose them, and felt somewhatconscious of their own inability to supply his place. They could not,however, pretend to dictate to him laws more rigid than they submitted tothemselves, and he was suffered to depart on his journey without anydirect objection being stated. The Reverend Mr Poundtext took the sameopportunity to pay a visit to his own residence in the neighbourhood ofMilnwood, and favoured Morton with his company on the journey. As thecountry was chiefly friendly to their cause, and in possession of theirdetached parties, excepting here and there the stronghold of some oldcavaliering Baron, they travelled without any other attendant than thefaithful Cuddie.

  It was near sunset when they reached Milnwood, where Poundtext bid adieuto his companions, and travelled forward alone to his own manse, whichwas situated half a mile's march beyond Tillietudlem. When Morton wasleft alone to his own reflections, with what a complication of feelingsdid he review the woods, banks, and fields, that had been familiar tohim! His character, as well as his habits, thoughts, and occupations, hadbeen entirely changed within the space of little more than a fortnight,and twenty days seemed to have done upon him the work of as many years. Amild, romantic, gentle-tempered youth, bred up in dependence, andstooping patiently to the control of a sordid and tyrannical relation,had suddenly, by the rod of oppression and the spur of injured feeling,been compelled to stand forth a leader of armed men, was earnestlyengaged in affairs of a public nature, had friends to animate and enemiesto contend with, and felt his individual fate bound up in that of anational insurrection and revolution. It seemed as if he had at onceexperienced a transition from the romantic dreams of youth to the laboursand cares of active manhood. All that had formerly interested him wasobliterated from his memory, excepting only his attachment to Edith; andeven his love seemed to have assumed a character more manly anddisinterested, as it had become mingled and contrasted with other dutiesand feelings. As he revolved the particulars of this sudden change, thecircumstances in which it originated, and the possible consequences ofhis present career, the thrill of natural anxiety which passed along hismind was immediately banished by a glow of generous and high-spiritedconfidence.

  "I shall fall young," he said, "if fall I must, my motives misconstrued,and my actions condemned, by those whose approbation is dearest to me.But the sword of liberty and patriotism is in my hand, and I will neitherfall meanly nor unavenged. They may expose my body, and gibbet my limbs;but other days will come, when the sentence of infamy will recoil againstthose who may pronounce it. And that Heaven, whose name is so oftenprofaned during this unnatural war, will bear witness to the purity ofthe motives by which I have been guided."

  Upon approaching Milnwood, Henry's knock upon the gate no longerintimated the conscious timidity of a stripling who has been out ofbounds, but the confidence of a man in full possession of his own rights,and master of his own actions,--bold, free, and decided. The door wascautiously opened by his old acquaintance, Mrs Alison Wilson, who startedback when she saw the steel cap and nodding plume of the martial visitor.

  "Where is my uncle, Alison?" said Morton, smiling at her alarm.

  "Lordsake, Mr Harry! is this you?" returned the old lady. "In troth, yegarr'd my heart loup to my very mouth--But it canna be your ainsell, forye look taller and mair manly-like than ye used to do."

  "It is, however, my own self," said Henry, sighing and smiling at thesame time; "I believe this dress may make me look taller, and thesetimes, Ailie, make men out of boys."

  "Sad times indeed!" echoed the old woman; "and O that you suld beendangered wi'them! but wha can help it?--ye were ill eneugh guided, and,as I tell your uncle, if ye tread on a worm it will turn."

  "You were always my advocate, Ailie," said he, and the housekeeper nolonger resented the familiar epithet, "and would let no one blame me butyourself, I am aware of that,--Where is my uncle?"

  "In Edinburgh," replied Alison; "the honest man thought it was best togang and sit by the chimley when the reek rase--a vex'd man he's been anda feared--but ye ken the Laird as weel as I do."

  "I hope he has suffered nothing in health?" said Henry.

  "Naething to speak of," answered the housekeeper, "nor in gudesneither--we fended as weel as we could; and, though the troopers ofTillietudlem took the red cow and auld Hackie, (ye'll mind them weel;)yet they sauld us a gude bargain o' four they were driving to theCastle."

  "Sold you a bargain?" said Morton; "how do you mean?"

  "Ou, they cam out to gather marts for the garrison," answered thehousekeeper; "but they just fell to their auld trade, and rade throughthe country couping and selling a' that they gat, like sae monywest-country drovers. My certie, Major Bellenden was laird o' the leastshare o' what they lifted, though it was taen in his name."

  "Then," said Morton, hastily, "the garrison must be straitened forprovisions?"

  "Stressed eneugh," replied Ailie--"there's little doubt o' that."

  A light instantly glanced on Morton's mind.

  "Burley must have deceived me--craft as well as cruelty is permitted byhis creed." Such was his inward thought; he said aloud, "I cannot stay,Mrs Wilson, I must go forward directly."

  "But, oh! bide to eat a mouthfu'," entreated the affectionatehousekeeper, "and I'll mak it ready for you as I used to do afore thaesad days," "It is impossible," answered Morton.--"Cuddie, get our horsesready."

  "They're just eating their corn," answered the attendant.

  "Cuddie!" exclaimed Ailie; "what garr'd ye bring that ill-faur'd, unluckyloon alang wi' ye?--It was him and his randie mother began a' themischief in this house."

  "Tut, tut," replied Cuddie, "ye should forget and forgie, mistress.Mither's in Glasgow wi' her tittie, and sall plague ye nae mair; and I'mthe Captain's wallie now, and I keep him tighter in thack and rape thanever ye did;--saw ye him ever sae weel put on as he is now?"

  "In troth and that's true," said the old housekeeper, looking with greatcomplacency at her young master, whose mien she thought much improved byhis dress. "I'm sure ye ne'er had a laced cravat like that when ye wereat Milnwood; that's nane o' my sewing."

  "Na, na, mistress," replied Cuddie, "that's a cast o' my hand--that's aneo' Lord Evandale's braws."

  "Lord Evandale?" answered the old lady, "that's him that the whigs aregaun to hang the morn, as I hear say."

  "The whigs about to hang Lord Evandale?" said Morton, in the greatestsurprise.

  "Ay, troth are they," said the housekeeper. "Yesterday night he made asally, as they ca't, (my mother's name was Sally--I wonder they gieChristian folk's names to sic unchristian do
ings,)--but he made anoutbreak to get provisions, and his men were driven back and he was taen,'an' the whig Captain Balfour garr'd set up a gallows, and swore, (orsaid upon his conscience, for they winna swear,) that if the garrison wasnot gien ower the morn by daybreak, he would hing up the young lord, poorthing, as high as Haman.--These are sair times!--but folk canna helpthem--sae do ye sit down and tak bread and cheese until better meat'smade ready. Ye suldna hae kend a word about it, an I had thought it wasto spoil your dinner, hinny."

  "Fed, or unfed," exclaimed Morton, "saddle the horses instantly, Cuddie.We must not rest until we get before the Castle."

  And, resisting all Ailie's entreaties, they instantly resumed theirjourney.

  Morton failed not to halt at the dwelling of Poundtext, and summon him toattend him to the camp. That honest divine had just resumed for aninstant his pacific habits, and was perusing an ancient theologicaltreatise, with a pipe in his mouth, and a small jug of ale beside him, toassist his digestion of the argument. It was with bitter ill-will that herelinquished these comforts (which he called his studies) in order torecommence a hard ride upon a high-trotting horse. However, when he knewthe matter in hand, he gave up, with a deep groan, the prospect ofspending a quiet evening in his own little parlour; for he entirelyagreed with Morton, that whatever interest Burley might have in renderingthe breach between the presbyterians and the government irreconcilable,by putting the young nobleman to death, it was by no means that of themoderate party to permit such an act of atrocity. And it is but doingjustice to Mr Poundtext to add, that, like most of his own persuasion, hewas decidedly adverse to any such acts of unnecessary violence; besides,that his own present feelings induced him to listen with much complacenceto the probability held out by Morton, of Lord Evandale's becoming amediator for the establishment of peace upon fair and moderate terms.With this similarity of views, they hastened their journey, and arrivedabout eleven o'clock at night at a small hamlet adjacent to the Castle atTillietudlem, where Burley had established his head-quarters.

  They were challenged by the sentinel, who made his melancholy walk at theentrance of the hamlet, and admitted upon declaring their names andauthority in the army. Another soldier kept watch before a house, whichthey conjectured to be the place of Lord Evandale's confinement, for agibbet of such great height as to be visible from the battlements of theCastle, was erected before it, in melancholy confirmation of the truth ofMrs Wilson's report. [Note: The Cameronians had suffered persecution, butit was without learning mercy. We are informed by Captain Crichton, thatthey had set up in their camp a huge gibbet, or gallows, having manyhooks upon it, with a coil of new ropes lying beside it, for theexecution of such royalists as they might make prisoners. Guild, in hisBellum Bothuellianum, describes this machine particularly.] Mortoninstantly demanded to speak with Burley, and was directed to hisquarters. They found him reading the Scriptures, with his arms lyingbeside him, as if ready for any sudden alarm. He started upon theentrance of his colleagues in office.

  "What has brought ye hither?" said Burley, hastily. "Is there bad newsfrom the army?"

  "No," replied Morton; "but we understand that there are measures adoptedhere in which the safety of the army is deeply concerned--Lord Evandaleis your prisoner?"

  "The Lord," replied Burley, "hath delivered him into our hands."

  "And you will avail yourself of that advantage, granted you by Heaven, todishonour our cause in the eyes of all the world, by putting a prisonerto an ignominious death?"

  "If the house of Tillietudlem be not surrendered by daybreak," repliedBurley, "God do so to me and more also, if he shall not die that death towhich his leader and patron, John Grahame of Claverhouse, hath put somany of God's saints."

  "We are in arms," replied Morton, "to put down such cruelties, and not toimitate them, far less to avenge upon the innocent the acts of theguilty. By what law can you justify the atrocity you would commit?"

  "If thou art ignorant of it," replied Burley, "thy companion is wellaware of the law which gave the men of Jericho to the sword of Joshua,the son of Nun."

  "But we," answered the divine, "live under a better dispensation, whichinstructeth us to return good for evil, and to pray for those whodespitefully use us and persecute us."

  "That is to say," said Burley, "that thou wilt join thy grey hairs to hisgreen youth to controvert me in this matter?"

  "We are," rejoined Poundtext, "two of those to whom, jointly withthyself, authority is delegated over this host, and we will not permitthee to hurt a hair of the prisoner's head. It may please God to make hima means of healing these unhappy breaches in our Israel."

  "I judged it would come to this," answered Burley, "when such as thouwert called into the council of the elders."

  "Such as I?" answered Poundtext,--"And who am I, that you should name mewith such scorn?--Have I not kept the flock of this sheep-fold from thewolves for thirty years? Ay, even while thou, John Balfour, wert fightingin the ranks of uncircumcision, a Philistine of hardened brow and bloodyhand--Who am I, say'st thou?"

  "I will tell thee what thou art, since thou wouldst so fain know," saidBurley. "Thou art one of those, who would reap where thou hast not sowed,and divide the spoil while others fight the battle--thou art one of thosethat follow the gospel for the loaves and for the fishes--that love theirown manse better than the Church of God, and that would rather draw theirstipends under prelatists or heathens, than be a partaker with thosenoble spirits who have cast all behind them for the sake of theCovenant."

  "And I will tell thee, John Balfour," returned Poundtext, deservedlyincensed, "I will tell thee what thou art. Thou art one of those, forwhose bloody and merciless disposition a reproach is flung upon the wholechurch of this suffering kingdom, and for whose violence andblood-guiltiness, it is to be feared, this fair attempt to recover ourcivil and religious rights will never be honoured by Providence with thedesired success."

  "Gentlemen," said Morton, "cease this irritating and unavailingrecrimination; and do you, Mr Balfour, inform us, whether it is yourpurpose to oppose the liberation of Lord Evandale, which appears to us aprofitable measure in the present position of our affairs?"

  "You are here," answered Burley, "as two voices against one; but you willnot refuse to tarry until the united council shall decide upon thismatter?"

  "This," said Morton, "we would not decline, if we could trust the handsin whom we are to leave the prisoner.--But you know well," he added,looking sternly at Burley, "that you have already deceived me in thismatter."

  "Go to," said Burley, disdainfully,--"thou art an idle inconsiderate boy,who, for the black eyebrows of a silly girl, would barter thy own faithand honour, and the cause of God and of thy country."

  "Mr Balfour," said Morton, laying his hand on his sword, "this languagerequires satisfaction."

  "And thou shalt have it, stripling, when and where thou darest," saidBurley; "I plight thee my good word on it."

  Poundtext, in his turn, interfered to remind them of the madness ofquarrelling, and effected with difficulty a sort of sullenreconciliation.

  "Concerning the prisoner," said Burley, "deal with him as ye think fit. Iwash my hands free from all consequences. He is my prisoner, made by mysword and spear, while you, Mr Morton, were playing the adjutant atdrills and parades, and you, Mr Poundtext, were warping the Scripturesinto Erastianism. Take him unto you, nevertheless, and dispose of him asye think meet.--Dingwall," he continued, calling a sort of aid-de-camp,who slept in the next apartment, "let the guard posted on the malignantEvandale give up their post to those whom Captain Morton shall appoint torelieve them.--The prisoner," he said, again addressing Poundtext andMorton, "is now at your disposal, gentlemen. But remember, that for allthese things there will one day come a term of heavy accounting."

  So saying, he turned abruptly into an inner apartment, without biddingthem good evening. His two visitors, after a moment's consideration,agreed it would be prudent to ensure the prisoner's personal safety, byplacing over him an additional
guard, chosen from their own parishioners.A band of them happened to be stationed in the hamlet, having beenattached, for the time, to Burley's command, in order that the men mightbe gratified by remaining as long as possible near to their own homes.They were, in general, smart, active young fellows, and were usuallycalled by their companions, the Marksmen of Milnwood. By Morton's desire,four of these lads readily undertook the task of sentinels, and he leftwith them Headrigg, on whose fidelity he could depend, with instructionsto call him, if any thing remarkable happened.

  This arrangement being made, Morton and his colleague took possession,for the night, of such quarters as the over-crowded and miserable hamletcould afford them. They did not, however, separate for repose till theyhad drawn up a memorial of the grievances of the moderate presbyterians,which was summed up with a request of free toleration for their religionin future, and that they should be permitted to attend gospel ordinancesas dispensed by their own clergymen, without oppression or molestation.Their petition proceeded to require that a free parliament should becalled for settling the affairs of church and state, and for redressingthe injuries sustained by the subject; and that all those who either nowwere, or had been, in arms, for obtaining these ends, should beindemnified. Morton could not but strongly hope that these terms, whichcomprehended all that was wanted, or wished for, by the moderate partyamong the insurgents, might, when thus cleared of the violence offanaticism, find advocates even among the royalists, as claiming only theordinary rights of Scottish freemen.

  He had the more confidence of a favourable reception, that the Duke ofMonmouth, to whom Charles had intrusted the charge of subduing thisrebellion, was a man of gentle, moderate, and accessible disposition,well known to be favourable to the presbyterians, and invested by theking with full powers to take measures for quieting the disturbances inScotland. It seemed to Morton, that all that was necessary forinfluencing him in their favour was to find a fit and sufficientlyrespectable channel of communication, and such seemed to be openedthrough the medium of Lord Evandale. He resolved, therefore, to visit theprisoner early in the morning, in order to sound his dispositions toundertake the task of mediator; but an accident happened which led him toanticipate his purpose.