followed them closely from place to place with his cavalry, the flower
of which were the high-spirited Scottish Life Guards. He published
a proclamation, offering pardon to all who within twenty-four hours
returned to their own houses; but he threatened with death all who
were taken in arms after that brief period. He found the whole country
so completely in the interest of the revolters, that he could obtain
no intelligence of their number, intention, or movements, save the
rumours brought to head quarters by his own parties and horse-patrols;
and thus, while _he_ was hovering in the west, by a sudden march, they
appeared unexpectedly within four miles of Edinburgh.
Their number had considerably augmented during their march; but few men
of any influence or property joined them; as most of the Covenanting
gentry had been committed to various castles and prisons, on the
plausible pre-text that it was necessary to insure their neutrality in
case of a war with the Dutch.
On reaching the vicinity of the Pentland Hills, they numbered about
three thousand horse and foot, ill armed and totally undisciplined.
Colonel James Wallace, of Auchans, a descendant of the Wallaces of
Dundonald, a brave officer, who had served with distinction in former
wars, and been lieutenant-colonel of Argyle's Highland regiment in
Ireland--a veteran soldier, who had seen the battles of Benburb,
Kilsythe, and Dunbar, when he was lieutenant-colonel of the Scottish
Foot Guards[34]--took command of the whole, and, knowing how slender
was his force, how destitute of succour, and how desperate in purpose
and position, he left nothing undone to ensure a victory, or at least a
death that should avenge their defeat and fall.
On reaching the secluded village of Colinton, which lies in a deep and
wooded hollow, they learned that in Edinburgh, where they confidently
expected a great accession, the citizens, under their provost, Sir
Andrew Ramsay, were in arms against them, and had made vigorous
preparations for a defence. The barrier gates were shut and fortified
by cannon; the gentlemen of the neighbouring shires had been summoned
to defend the walls; the College of Justice had formed a corps of
cavalry, and all gentlemen in the city who possessed horses were
ordered to mount, and appear in arms in the Meal Market, under the
young Marquis of Montrose, to await the orders of General Dalyell.
The latter sent Alexander Seton, Viscount Kingston, with a body of
the Guards, to the old quarries in Bruntsfield Links, with orders to
lie there concealed, as across these links lay the direct road to
the quarters of the insurgents, who had many friends in the capital;
but, overawed by the active measures of the Cavalier government,
they--according to Kirkton--"could only fast and pray for them."
On learning all this, Colonel Wallace marched along the slope of the
Pentland Hills, in the hope of being able to effect a retreat towards
Biggar. The season was the dreary month of November. Dogged by Dalyell
and battered by a storm of wind and rain, the hapless Covenanters
had been losing heart, and as their spirit diminished, so did their
numbers, which, from three thousand, dwindled down to nine hundred
hungry, wet, and famished creatures, "who looked more like dying men
than soldiers going to conquer."
Wallace began to see the hopelessness of the cause he had undertaken;
but the spirit of the few who adhered to him never flinched.
"We are not unwilling to die for religion and liberty," said these
brave fellows; "yea, we would esteem a testimony for the Lord and our
country a sufficient reward for all our loss and labour."
They wrote to General Dalyell a long and pathetic letter, setting forth
their religious grievances; but no answer was returned to it, save the
sound of his trumpets and the clash of the kettle-drums, when, on the
afternoon of the 28th of November, his cavalry and infantry--upwards
of three thousand strong,--after a fortnight's constant marching, were
seen traversing the western slope of the beautiful Pentland range, and,
descending, with all their standards displayed, towards Rullion Green,
where these nine hundred devoted men, with their swords and Bibles,
awaited them. As Dalyell approached, they sang the seventy-fourth and
seventy-eighth Psalms.
Wallace drew up his little band in line, with a few of his toil-worn
horsemen covering the right flank, which was somewhat exposed.
Desperation and religious enthusiasm enhanced their natural bravery,
and twice they repulsed the attack of the royal troops; but it was
renewed by Dalyell's horse, the finest cavalry in Scotland, being
principally cavaliers of the Life Guards, nobly mounted and richly
accoutred. Dalyell led them on, and, by a single charge, they bore down
horse and foot alike, at sword's point. This was when the dusk was
closing on these lofty and heath-clad mountains. Fifty Covenanters were
slain, including two eminent Irish divines--Andrew MacCormick and John
Crookshanks--who had joined them, and who perished in the front rank.
In this conflict Dalyell and the famous Covenanter, Captain John Paton,
of Meadowhead, met hand to hand on horseback, and exchanged several
blows before they were separated by the pressure of their soldiers.
Paton then discharged his pistols at Dalyell, off whose person the
balls were seen _to recoil_. On perceiving this (and knowing him to be
shot-proof, according to a superstitious historian), the captain loaded
his pistol with a _silver coin_, a manoeuvre observed by Dalyell; he
stepped behind a soldier, who fell, pierced by the coin which was
supposed to be proof to any spell; but the same legend is related of
Claverhouse at Killycrankie. Paton was among the last who left the
field. Dalyell perceived him retiring, and sent three well-mounted
troopers in pursuit, and these came to blows with him when he was
urging his horse to leap a deep ditch. By a back-handed stroke he clove
in two the head and helmet of his first assailant; the other two fell
headlong into the ditch, where they lay struggling under their fallen
chargers.
"Take my compliments to Dalyell, your master," said Baton, tauntingly,
as he rode off; "tell him that I am not going home with him to-night."
John Nesbit, of Hardhill, a tall and powerful Covenanter, fell on the
field, covered with wounds, but was found to be alive next day, when
he was stripped and about to be interred with the dead. He was a brave
man, and had served in foreign wars, for which he was made a captain of
Musketeers at Bothwell some years after.
The gloom of the November night, and a sentiment of chivalry--of pity,
perhaps, for their poor and persecuted countrymen--inspired the Life
Guards to spare the fugitives, the mass of whom escaped and dispersed;
but eighty prisoners--among whom was Neilson, the unfortunate Laird
of Corsack--were taken, and these were next day marched in triumph
through the streets of Edinburgh, while cannon thundered a salute from
the castle, and the bells rang in every steeple; while the streets
resounded with the tramp of the cavalry, who, with standards advanced
and kettle-drums beating, escorted them to prison. "It is recorded
that Andrew Murray, an aged Presbyterian minister, when he beheld the
ferocious Dalyell in his rusted head-piece, buff coat, and long waving
beard, riding at the head of his cavalier squadrons, who, flushed with
victory, surrounded the manacled prisoners with drawn swords and cocked
carbines--and when he heard the shouts of acclamation from the people,
was so overpowered with grief for what he deemed the downfall for ever
of _God's Covenanted Kirk_, that he became ill, and expired."
The dead were buried on the field, and there may yet be seen, within
a small and rude enclosure, which is overshadowed by a few trees,
a monument bearing an inscription to the memory of Crookshanks,
MacCormick, and others who lie where they fell. At the back of the
Pentland Hills runs a rivulet named the Deadman's-grain, from the
circumstance of a wounded Covenanter falling there when pursued by a
cavalier trooper. Drawing a pistol from his holsters, he fired it at
his pursuer underneath his bridle arm, but, missing, shot his own horse
in the flank. The animal fell, and his rider was immediately slain,
where his green grave is yet shown by the side of the mountain burn.
At Easton, in Dunsyre, there was long visible a lonely grave, in which,
according to a tradition transmitted from father to son, there lay a
Covenanter who had expired of wounds received at Rullion Green. It was
opened in 1817, and found to contain the skeleton of a tall man, with
two silver coins dated 1620. On being touched, the bones crumbled to
dust.
Colonel Wallace, on seeing all lost, left the field, accompanied by
Mr. John Welsh, and, favoured by the darkness, took a north-westerly
direction among the hills, and escaped. After long concealment and
enduring many privations, he reached the Continent, and died in penury,
at Rotterdam, in 1678.
It is a strange circumstance that, after the rout of his followers,
many of them were slain by the Lothian peasantry.
Of the unfortunate prisoners, the servile and barbarous Scottish Privy
Council made a severe example. Twenty were executed at Edinburgh, ten
being hanged upon the same gibbet at once; seven were executed at Ayr,
and many were hanged before their own doors in other parts of the
country. The heads of those who perished at Edinburgh were fixed above
the city gates, and their right arms and the hands with which they
subscribed the Covenant were affixed to the Tolbooths of Lanark and
other towns.
When Gordon, of Knockbreck, and his brother were hanged on the same
gibbet, they clasped each other in their arms, that together, and at
once, they might endure the pangs of death.
Like all Covenanters, the whole of these men maintained, with their
dying breath, that they had taken up arms _not_ against the king, but
against the insupportable tyranny of the Episcopal prelates. And that
these men, and such as these, did not die in vain, the future history
of their country has shown, for their last words left an echo that
lingers yet in the hearts of the people.
Dalyell was highly complimented by the Council for this victory, and
Neilson of Corsack, the most important of his prisoners, was ordered
to be tortured in that dark, panelled room under the Parliament Hall,
wherein sat the Council, over which the Duke of Rothes presided.
Neilson of Corsack was a country laird, who had been long distinguished
for gentleness and amiability of disposition; but rage at the
ill-treatment he received from the new clergy alone drove him to
despair, and from despair to arms. On his refusal to become an
Episcopalian, by the information (or at the instance) of the curate
of his parish, he was dragged from his house, fined, and imprisoned,
while his delicate wife and little children had been driven as outcasts
into the mountains. Soldiers were then quartered on his lands, and his
cattle were carried off. This was scarcely such treatment as a Scottish
gentleman of the seventeenth century would endure with calmness.
Rendered desperate, Corsack took to his sword, and commanded the party
which surprised Sir James Turner, whose life he subsequently saved.
That officer was not ungrateful for the act, and did all in his power
to obtain mercy for him, but in vain. The Council were inexorable, and
"Corsack was so cruelly tortured by the iron boots, that his shrieks
were sufficient to move the heart of a stone."
The _thumbikins_ were the favourite instrument of torture most
generally resorted to by the Lords of Council. These were small steel
screws which compressed the thumb-joint, or whole hand if necessary,
and were an invention brought to Scotland by General Dalyell from the
Continent.
Charles II. distinctly, by letter, ordained the Privy Council to
substitute banishment for torture and death; but his _missive was
concealed_, and in his name the work of cruelty still went on, and
still unsated by the daily horrors furnished by the result of the
conflict at Rullion Green, Generals Dalyell and Drummond were ordered
into the Shires of Ayr, Dumfries, and Galloway, to complete the
destruction of any Covenanters or recusants who might remain in these
districts.
In this year, and most probably for that duty, he raised a regiment of
infantry; but it has long ceased to exist, and was probably one of the
many Scottish corps disbanded at the peace of Ryswick.
While on this new service the enemies of Dalyell record innumerable
instances of cruelty perpetrated by him; and though his temper was hot
and his character undoubtedly fierce and resolute, these stories must
be accepted under reservation.
"The forces were ordered to lie in the west," says Burnet, "where
Dalyell acted the Muscovite too grossly. He threatened to _spit_ men
and to _roast_ them, and he killed some in cold blood, or rather hot
blood, for he was then drunk, when he ordered one to be hanged because
he would not tell where his father was, for whom he was in search. When
he heard of any who did not go to church, he did not trouble himself
to set a fine upon him, but sent as many soldiers as might eat him up
in a night. And the clergy were so delighted with it, that they used
to speak of that time as the poets do of the golden age. They looked
upon the soldiery as their patrons. They were ever in their company,
and complying with them in their excesses, and, if they are not much
wronged, they rather led them into them, than checked them for them.
_Dalyell_ himself and his officers were so disgusted with them, that
they increased the complaints, that had now more credit from them than
from those of the country, who were looked on as their enemies. Things
of so strange a pitch in vice were told of them, that they seemed
scarce credible."
And this severe picture of the Episcopal Clergy is given by a Scottish
Bishop, which renders it the more worthy of credence.
It is recorded of Dalyell, that once, when inflamed by passion, he
struck a prisoner on the face with the hilt of his dagger so severely
that blood flowed from the wound but it must be remembered that this
person had boldly taunted the fierce old man, as "a Muscovite beast
who used to roast men alive!" He established his head-quarters at
Lanark for some weeks, and there he imprisoned many Covenanters in a
damp dungeon, which was so narrow that, owing to their number, they
could neither sit nor lie at length with comfort; and where they were
deprived of all accommodation for preserving cleanliness or decency.
While his troops were in this town, a peasant when passing through the
streets was seized by a patrol, and brought before him; and because
this man either could not, or would not, give such information as would
commit some of the prisoners, he was condemned to instant death. He
begged one night's reprieve, that he might prepare to die, and make his
peace with Heaven; but even this was denied him, and, according to the
historians of the Kirk, he was dragged into a neighbouring field, shot
dead by a platoon of carbines, stripped and left nude upon the ground.
On another occasion, we are told that he ordered a woman, who had aided
the escape of a fugitive, to be cast into a hole filled with toads and
reptiles, where she died in great misery.
Such stories seem exceedingly improbable, yet they pass current in
Scotland, and are still believed to the present day.
In Dumfries the soldiers were accused of "having tied a man neck and
heels to a pole, and turned him like a joint of meat before a great
fire." In Kilmarnock, the men of Dalyell's regiment placed an old
recusant in a dungeon, which was destitute of vent or chimney, and
there tortured him by the smoke of a coal fire. When almost suffocated
he was borne forth, amid laughter and derision, to the open air, and
permitted to revive. After this he was imprisoned again; and this
torture was continued for several nights and days.
At Dalry, Sir William Bannatyne, one of Dalyell's officers, ordered
a woman who had been accessory to the escape of her husband, to be
tortured by having lighted musket-matches tied between her clenched
fingers, a cruelty by which she lost one hand entirely, and some
days afterwards expired of torture. A farmer, whom this officer was
dragooning, and from whom he was extorting money, asked why he was thus
fined.
"Because," replied Sir William, with provoking candour, "you have great
gear, and I must have part of it."
And on service so barbarous as this, the year 1667 passed away; and the
estates of the forfeited Wallace of Auchans and others were bestowed by
Parliament upon Dalyell and Drummond, or were retained by the grasping
officers of State to enrich themselves. Thus for a time the unhappy
Covenanters seemed to be completely crushed. Upon Dalyell was conferred
the valuable estate of Mure of Caldwell, who had been accessory to that
revolt which terminated at the Pentland hills; but of this property
his family were deprived by the Revolution of 1688. Those who made
peace with the Government, by interest, bribery, or fines, received
protections, of which the following, in my own possession, granted the
year before Bothwell, may serve as an example:--
"At Glasgow, the twenty day of March, 1678.
"For saemeikelas Major Alexander Coult of Garturke, in the parish of
Monkland, hath signed the bond appoynted by the Lords of His Maties
Privy Councell ffor himself and all such who live under him, ffor
their peaceable and orderlie deportment; the Comitty of His Maties
Privy Councell do hereby take the said Major Alexander Coult under
their special protection and safeguard: and hereby discharge all
officers and souldiers to trouble or molest the said Major Alexander
Coult, his house, famillie, tenants, cottars or servants, or any
belonging to him, in their personal gudes or estate, as they will be
answerable at their highest perill, and allows him _to have and wear
his wearing sword and pistolls_.
"Glencairne,
"Strathmore, Wigtoune,
"Airlie, Caithness."
Captain John Creichton, the celebrated cavalier trooper, who served
long, both as a private and officer, under Dalyell in Scotland, and
whose interesting memoirs were published by Dean Swift, has left us
the following portrait of his stern leader, and it is so graphic that I
may be pardoned quoting it entire.
"He was bred up very hardy from his youth, both in diet and clothing.
He never wore boots, nor above one coat, which was close to his body,
with close sleeves like those we call jockey coats. He never wore a
peruke, nor did he shave his beard since the murder of King Charles
the First. In my time his head was bald, which he covered only with a
beaver hat, the brim of which was not above three inches broad. His
beard was white and bushy, and yet reached down almost to his girdle.
He usually went to London once or twice in a year to kiss the King's
hand, who had a great esteem for his valor and worth. His unusual dress
and figure, when he was in London, never failed to draw after him a
great crowd of boys and other young people, who constantly attended at
his lodgings, and followed him with huzzas, as he went to court and
returned from it. As he was a man of humour, he would always thank them
for their civilities when he left them at the door to go to the King,
and would let them know exactly at what hour he intended to come out
again and return to his lodgings.
"When the King walked in the park attended by some of his courtiers,
and Dalziel in his company, the same crowds would always be after him,
shewing their admiration at his beard and dress, so that the King could
hardly pass on for the crowd, upon which his Majesty bade '_the devil
take Dalziel for bringing such a rabble of boys together to have their
guts squeezed out_,' while they gaped at his long beard and antique
habit, requesting him at the same time--as Dalziel used to express
it--'_to shave and dress like other Christians, and keep the poor
bairns out of danger_.' All this could never prevail on him to part
with his beard; but yet, in compliance to his Majesty, he went once to
Court in the very height of the fashion; but as soon as the King and
those about him had laughed sufficiently at the strange figure he made,
he resumed his usual habit, to the great joy of the boys, who had not
discovered him in his fashionable dress."
From this it would appear that Dalyell had been much of a wag, that he
loved to humour children, and enjoyed their fun and amazement at the
sight of his huge beard, and by appearing once in the gaudy frippery of
a Cavalier, had striven to ridicule the foppery of the Court of Charles
II.--three points of character very different from those usually
attributed to him.
He was appointed a Privy Councillor, and soon after represented the
county of Linlithgow in Parliament, and in 1670 an act of ratification,
confirming all his estates and honours, was passed. In this document he
is designated "His Majesties right trustie and weel-beloved Generall
Thomas Dalyell, of Binns, late Lieutenant-Generall of His Majesties
late forces within this ancient kingdome." From this it would appear
that promotion, as well as profit, had resulted to him after the affair
at Rullion Green and dragooning the Westland Whigs. He represented his
native county in the Scottish Parliament from 1678 to 1685.
To assist in the security of Episcopacy in Scotland, and still further
to fortify the royal authority and the power of that tyrannical
Council, which committed so many atrocities in the king's name,
Lauderdale, who was created a duke when at the head of the Scottish
affairs, obtained the formation of a militia consisting of two thousand
cavalry and sixteen thousand infantry; and as the northern kingdom
swarmed with experienced and high-spirited officers all lacking
military employment, these troops were soon disciplined and equipped;
but the flower of the national troops were the standing forces of the
country.
These, at this time, were as follows:--
1. The Royal Life Guards, the regiment of the famous John Grahame of
Claverhouse, Viscount of Dundee, were raised after the Restoration,
in 1661. The privates were styled, _par excellence_, gentlemen, and
usually appear to have been cadets of good families. The Sieur de la
Roche, a French Protestant refugee, who was slain in a tavern brawl
at Leith by John Master of Tarbet and an Ensign Mowat, is styled in
their indictment, "a gentleman of his Majesty's troop of Guards." Under
Claverhouse, this Scottish patrician band served at Bothwell Bridge,
at Drumclog, and in all the unhappy contentions of the period. Mr.
Francis Stuart, afterwards a captain of the Guards, grandson of the
Earl of Bothwell, was, says Captain Creichton, "a private _gentleman_
in the Horse Guards, like myself." In this trooper the reader will no
doubt recognise the Serjeant Bothwell of _Old Mortality_.
"On the 2nd of April, 1661," according to Wodrow, "the King's Life
Guard was formed. By their constitution they were to consist of
noblemen and gentlemen's sons, and were to be one hundred and twenty in
number, under command of the Lord Newburgh. After taking an oath to be
loyal to his Majesty, they made a parade through the town of Edinburgh,
with carbines at their saddles and swords drawn."
The maimed and old veteran officers, adds Kirkton, in his secret
history, "the poor colonels, majors, and captains who expected great
promotion (at the Restoration) were preferred to be troopers in the
King's troop of Life Guards. This goodly employment obliged them to
spend with one another the small remnant of the stock their miseries
had left them, but more they could not have after all their hopes and
sufferings" (he means) during the days of Cromwell.
In 1674 these Life Guards consisted of four squadrons, and were
commanded by the Marquis of Athole.
After the Union, in 1707, this corps was removed to London, and is now
represented by the 2nd troop of the 1st Life Guards.[35]