Tales of the Covenanters. Ellen Emma Guthrie
Livingstone and Dalziel were actually taking us on the flank. A band had got between us and Burley's infantry. 'My friends,' said Hackston to his officers, 'we are last on the field. We can do no more. We must retreat. Let us attempt, at least, to bring aid to these deluded men behind us. They have brought ruin on themselves and on us. Not Monmouth, but our own divisions have scattered us.' At this moment, one of the Life Guards aimed a blow at Hackston. My sword received it; and a stroke from Nisbet laid the foeman's hand and sword in the dust. He fainted and tumbled from the saddle. We reined our horses, and galloped to our main body. But what a scene presented itself here! These misguided men had their eyes now fully open to their own errors. The enemy were bringing up their whole force against them. I was not long a near spectator of it; for a ball grazed my courser. He plunged and reared, then shot off like an arrow. Several of our officers drew to the same place. On a knoll we faced about; the battle raged below us. We beheld our commander doing everything that a brave soldier could do with factious men against an overpowering foe. Burley and his troops were in close conflict with Clavers' dragoons. We saw him dismount three troopers with his own hand. He could not turn the tide of battle; but he was covering the retreat of these misguided men. Before we could rejoin him, a party threw themselves in our way. Hennoway, one of Clavers' officers, led them on. 'Would to God that this was Grahame himself,' some of my companions ejaculated aloud. 'He falls to my share,' said I, 'whosver the officer be.' I advanced—he met me. I parried several thrusts. He received a cut on the left arm; and the same sword, by the same stroke, shore off one of the horse's ears; it plunged and reared. We closed again. I received a stroke on the left shoulder. My blow fell on his sword arm. He reined his horse around, retreated a few paces, then returned at full gallop. My courser reared instinctively as his approached. I received his stroke on the back of my Ferrar; and, by a back stroke, I gave him a deep cut on the cheek. And, before he could recover a position of defence, my sword fell with a terrible blow on his steel cap. Stunned by the blow, he bent himself forward, and, grasping the mane, he tumbled from the saddle, and his steed galloped over the field. I did not repeat the blow. His left hand presented his sword; his right arm was disabled; his life was given to him. My companions having disposed of their adversaries (and some of them had two a-piece), we paused to see the fate of the battle. Dalziel and Livingstone were riding over the field, like furies, cutting down all in their way. Monmouth was galloping from rank to rank, and calling on his men to give quarter. Clavers, to wipe off the disgrace of Drumclog, was committing fearful havoc. 'Can we not find Clavers?' said Haugh-head. 'No,' said Captain Paton, 'the gallant Colonel takes care to have a solid guard of his rogues around him. I have sought him over the field; but I found him, as I now perceive him, with a mass of his Guards about him.' At this instant we saw our General at some distance, disentangling himself from the men who had tumbled over him in the mélé. His face, and hands, and clothes, were covered with gore. He had been dismounted, and was fighting on foot. We rushed to the spot, and cheered him. Our party drove back the scattered band of Dalziel. 'My friends,' said Sir Robert, as we mounted him on a stray horse, 'the day is lost! But—you, Paton; you, Brownlee of Torfoot; and you, Haugh-head, let not that flag fall into the hands of these incarnate devils. We have lost the battle; but, by the grace of God, neither Dalziel nor Clavers shall say that he took our colours. My ensign has done his duty. He is down. This sword has saved it twice. I leave it to your care: you see its perilous situation.' He pointed with his sword to the spot. We collected some of our scattered troops, and flew to the place. The standard-bearer was down, but he was still fearlessly grasping the flag-staff; while he was borne uprightly by the mass of men who had thrown themselves in fierce contest around it. Its well-known blue scarlet colours, and its motto, Christ's Crown and Covenant, in brilliant gold letters, inspired us with a sacred enthusiasm. We gave a loud cheer to the wounded ensign, and rushed into the combat. The redemption of that flag cost the foe many a gallant man. They fell beneath our broad swords, and with horrible execrations dying on their lips, they gave up their souls to their Judge. Here I met in front that ferocious dragoon of Clavers, named Tom Kalliday, who had more than once, in his raids, plundered my halls, and had snatched the bread from my weeping babes. He had just seized the white staff of the flag. But his tremendous oath of exultation had scarcely passed its polluted threshold, when this Andro Ferrara fell on the guard of his steel, and shivered it to pieces. 'Recreant loon,' said I, 'thou shalt this day remember thy evil deeds.' Another blow on his helmit laid him at his huge length, and made him bite the dust. In the mélé that followed, I lost sight of him. We fought like lions, but with the hearts of Christians. While my gallant companions stemmed the tide of battle, the standard, rent to tatters, fell across my breast. I tore it from the staff, and wrapt it round my body. We cut our way through the enemy, and carried our General off the field.
[#] The natives of Hamilton have preserved, by tradition, the name of the merchant who did this disservice to the Covenanters.
"Having gained a small knoll, we beheld once more the dreadful spectacle below. Thick volumes of smoke and dust rolled in a lazy cloud over the dark bands mingled in deadly affray. It was no longer a battle, but a massacre. In the struggle of my feelings, 'I turned my eyes on the General and Paton. I saw in the face of the latter an indescribable conflict of emotions. His long and shaggy eyebrows were drawn over his eyes. His hand grasped his sword. I cannot yet leave the field,' said the undaunted Paton; 'with the General's permission, I shall try to save some of our wretched men beset by those hell-hounds. Who will go? At Kilsyth I saw service. When deserted by my troops, I cut my way through Montrose's men and reached the spot where Colonels Halket and Strachan were. We left the field together. Fifteen Dragoons attacked us, we cut down thirteen and two fled. Thirteen next assailed us. We left ten on the field, and three fled. Eleven Highlanders next met us. We paused and cheered each other. 'Now, Johnny,' cried Halket to me, 'put forth your metal, else we are gone.' Nine others we sent after their comrades, and two fled.[#] 'Now, who will join this raid?' 'I will be your leader,' said Sir Robert, as we fell into the ranks. We marched on the enemy's flank. 'Yonder is Clavers,' said Paton, while he directed his courser on him. The bloody man was at that moment, nearly alone, hacking to pieces some poor fellows already on their knees disarmed and imploring him by the common feelings of humanity to spare their lives. He had just finished his usual oath against their feelings of humanity, when Paton presented himself. He instantly let go his prey and slunk back into the midst of his troopers. Having formed them, he advanced. We formed and made a furious onset. At our first charge his troop reeled. Clavers was dismounted. But at that moment Dalziel assailed us on the flank and rear. Our men fell around us like grass before the mower. The buglemen sounded a retreat. Once more in the mélé, I fell in with the General and Paton. We were covered with wounds. We directed our flight in the rear of the broken troops, By the direction of the General I had unfurled the standard. It was borne off the field flying at the sword's point. But that honour cost me much. I was assailed by three fierce dragoons, five followed close in the rear. I called to Paton—in a moment he was by my side. I threw the standard to the General, and we rushed on the foe. They fell beneath our swords; but my faithful steed, which had carried me through all my dangers, was mortally wounded. He fell. I was thrown in among the fallen enemy. I fainted. I opened my eyes on misery. I found myself in the presence of Monmouth—a prisoner—with other wretched creatures, awaiting in awful suspense their ultimate destiny." * * *
[#] This chivalrous defence is recorded in the life of Captain Paton.
And this standard had been borne at Bothwell Bridge; borne at early morn by the Covenanters, when hopes of victory animated their souls, urging them on to deeds of daring; and at evening, when the bright rays of the setting sun fell upon the deserted bridge—deserted by all save the dead and the dying—this banner blood-stained and riven, had been borne by some weary, perchance, wounded Covenanter, from the disastrous field, where perished the hopes of the Covenanting party.
I was roused from my momentary fit of abstraction by hearing Mrs. Anderson observe, as if in answer to her own thoughts, "Ay, it's rale dirty! but I was on the point of washing it the other day, when my husband said it was much better to let it remain as it was." Wash the standard stained with the blood of her forefathers! Convert the time-honoured relic into a clean piece of linen which would no longer bear the slightest resemblance to a banner that had been engaged in such honourable service! Surely she was joking. But no. There was no twinkle of merriment in those large grey eyes, which were fixed on mine, as if anticipating