SIR DONALD AND HIS REGIMENT.
From an eminent armourer in the Castlegate of the Brave Town of
Aberdeen, I had purchased a suit of plain but well-tempered armour,
such as a gentleman might wear, and such as no gentleman could be
without in those days, before the wars of the Covenant. It consisted
of back and breast plates, curiously inlaid with many rare and quaint
devices; steel gloves, arm-pieces, a gorget and open helmet, with
three iron bars, to protect the face from sword-cuts. As leg-pieces
had now gone out of fashion, and withal I was to wear a kilt like my
comrades, tassettes were not required. I had a good pair of our
Scottish pistols, with iron butts, a back sword and dagger. These
cost me many pounds Scots, all of which I had saved, with some
trouble, from the small sums sent me by my poor mother, per the
favour of John Mucklecuits, the Aberdeen carrier.
On receiving the letter of Ian, I showed it to my father, and so
strong was his silly prejudice against me, that he said--with an
unmoved aspect which stung me to the soul--he feared much I would
never return again; for my uncle Philip, whose mouth was too small
for the spoon of Sir Ringan, never again darkened the door of his
father, and so forth; but, having pledged my word to our kinsman, I
must march, or rather sail for Low Germanie, whither his blessing
would assuredly follow me.
Filled with ardour at the prospect before me, and the life of wild
and warlike adventure, happiness, and pleasure (for such I deemed
it,) on which I was about to enter, I spent my whole time in putting
on and taking off my harness, polishing the pieces, burnishing the
handles of my sword and Glasgow pistols, until they shone like
silver; and I hailed with joy the appearance of two of our Scottish
ships of war, which, on rising from bed one morning, I saw at anchor
in the Firth of Cromartie. The early dawn was beautiful, and I
remember well how gallantly those vessels rode, with their heads to
the wind, and the pennons of St. Andrew streaming astern.
Sent round from Leith, by order of the Privy Council and of His Grace
James Stewart, Duke of Lennox, who in that year was Lord Great
Chamberlain and Lord High Admiral of Scotland, they were the
_Unicorn_ and _Crown Royal_, two of our bravest ships. Each of them
carried thirty gross culverins, and had two galleries on each side.
Their poops and aftercastles, which rose like towers above the water,
were carved over with trophies of artillery, and blazons of honour.
Their cabins were all loopholed for musket shot, and two gallant
frigates they were, as ever unfurled our Scottish flag above the
waters. And so I thought, as on that beautiful morning in September
I saw them riding in the noble bay, with their gilded sides, the
polished muzzles of their brass cannon, and their snow-white canvass
shining in the rising sun. Their captains breakfasted at the tower
of Craigrollo, and about midday, with a beating heart I began to arm
me in good earnest; for afar off, on the western hills, the glitter
of steel announced that my future comrades from the wilds of Ross
were approaching the shore.
The bitter pang of leaving my father's roof, perhaps for ever; of
breaking bread where I might never break it more; of performing the
little routine and courtesies of our family circle, each as I felt
sorrowfully for the last time, had all to be endured on that morning.
My father's austere look was softened, and it seemed at times that
his usually cold eye almost glistened when he gazed on me. I thought
that my three uncouth brothers were kinder and gentler than was their
wont. All this might be fancy, but my heart was full. I was hearing
their voices for the last time, I was going far away for a long and
indefinite period; the future was full of danger and obscurity, and
never more might I be under my father's rooftree. But I flung these
chilling thoughts from me as one would do a wet plaid, and betook me
to my armour.
For the first time I put on my kilt and hose, and to my surprise,
found that they were not only exceedingly warm, but easy and
comfortable; much more so than the bombasted breeches I had hitherto
worn.
The aspect of Sir Donald's men, this brave regiment of Strathnaver,
whose name in future wars was fated to carry terror and defeat into
the ranks of the Austrian and Spanish Imperialists, would have fired
even a coward-heart with a glow of chivalry, as on that morning they
marched down, by the shores of the Firth of Cromartie, fifteen
hundred strong; raised entirely among his own clan and kinsmen in
Farr, Strathnaver, and Strathalladale, together with a few Munroes
and Gunns. The regiment of Sir Donald well deserved the name given
it in the "Svedish Intelligencer," the _Scottish Invincibles_.
Though it was the fashion in foreign armies to have companies of
infantry varying from one hundred and fifty to three hundred men,
those of Sir Donald were regularly composed of one hundred men each,
the officers being invariably the kinsmen of their soldiers; thus my
cousin Ian led the company of M'Farquhars, and young Culgraigie the
company of Munroes; the Laird of Tulloch led a company of the clan
Forbes, and old Kildon, the company of Mackenzies, and so on. In the
Lowlands, and among the English, it was then customary to have a
colour for each company, with a certain number of halberdiers to
guard it, then so many musketeers to flank the halberts, while the
pikes in turn flanked the muskets; but the regiment of Strathnaver,
with five hundred pikes and a thousand muskets, had only two
standards, our Scottish national ensign, and the great banner of
Mackay, bearing a chevron argent, charged with a _Rea_buck's head,
and two hounds grasping dirks. The same designs were painted on all
the drums, and on the little flags that waved from the pipers' drones.
The whole fifteen hundred were uniformly accoutred in steel-caps and
buff-coats, the officers being fully armed in bright plate to the
waist, and having plumes in their headpieces; their kilts were of
dark green tartan, and belted up to the left shoulder, according to
the custom of Highlandmen when going on service. The musketeers
carried their powder in bandoliers; and, in addition to his dirk,
every officer and man wore the claymore, or genuine old Highland
sword, which could be used with both hands. Their purses were of
white goatskin, and profusely adorned with silver.
Marching in sections of six abreast, this noble regiment poured down
the steep and narrow pass overhung by Craigrollo, and I shall never
forget how my heart expanded, when I beheld them moving far down
below where I stood, with their colours waving, the tall reedy pikes,
the burnished musket barrels, helmets, and breastplates glittering in
the sun; the waving of the tartans; the regular motion of the bare
brown knees and gartered hose; the hoarse bray of ten great
war-pipes, and the hoarser battle of fifteen drums, beating the old
Scottish march, and making wood, rock, and water echo, as if the
thunder of heaven was floating over them. The waving plaids and
nodding plumes, the flashing steel and martial music, the measured
tramp of so many marching feet, all combined to raise a wild glow in
my bosom, and I exulted to think that _I was one of these_, and never
assuredly did finer men depart for foreign wars. They were the
flower of Ross and the Lewis, but chiefly from _Duthaich Mhic Aio_,
or the Land of the Mackays; and many of them exhibited a strength and
stature such as our Lowlanders never attain, having always at their
command the best of game and venison, with all manner of animal food,
for the mere trouble of shooting or slaying.*
* How different with the poor Highlanders now!
Though accoutred like the rest, and wearing the Mackay tartan, I knew
the company of M'Farquhars by the badges in their steel caps, and by
the remarkable plume of Ian, who marched at their head. It was the
whole wing of an eagle, with the feathers expanded over the cone of
his helmet, which gave him all the formidable aspect of a Roman
warrior. As I descended the rocks, he sprang from the ranks to greet
me.
"My cousin and captain," said I, laughing, "a thousand welcomes to
Cromartie!"
"Philip, a thousand welcomes to our ranks! My children," he added in
Gaëlic to his company, "this gentleman is one of ourselves--'tis our
kinsman, Rollo of the Craig--his mother was a daughter of our race;
remember that, and be his _Leine Chrios_ (his shirt of mail) in every
danger."
A wild Highland hurrah was Ian's response.
While the regiment marched down towards the beach, Sir Donald of
Strathnaver, my colonel, in obedience to a courteous invitation which
I tendered him in my father's name, turned aside to visit our poor
tower on the Craig, and attended only by his henchman, and a piper
who played before him, rode his horse slowly and carefully up the
steep and rocky path which led to the outer gate.
Mackay was somewhat lofty and reserved in manner, but brave and
generous as a prince of romance; his dark grey eyes were keen and
bright; his form was sinewy, but flexible and full of grace; he was
about forty years of age, and, although long reputed to be one of the
most ferocious and predatory among the western chiefs, he had a
singularly pleasing suavity of manner. All the Highlands were then
ringing with the story of the terrible vengeance he had recently
taken on the bandits who dwelt in the vast cave of Ben Radh, a
mountain in his parish of Reay; and I gazed on him with no ordinary
interest, for he was the chief to whom I had committed my fortunes,
and whom I was to follow to far and foreign battle-fields.
Two sturdy Highland pages carried his armour; and thus the handsome
olive doublet, which he wore slashed, after the Spanish fashion,
imparted a somewhat courtly aspect to his lordly figure, and formed
an agreeable contrast to his tartan truis, his steel gauntlets, and
cliobh, or basket-hilted sword. Conforming to the spirit of his
forefathers, who, coeval with the Lollards of Kyle, had been among
the earliest promoters of the Reformation, this brave chief raised at
different times no less than three thousand men for the German wars;
such was his enthusiasm in the cause of religious freedom and of
Elizabeth Stuart, the daughter of James VI., whom, with her husband
Frederick, the Austrians had driven from the kingdom of Bohemia.
I cared not for the elector Frederick, for we Scots deemed him but a
pitiful German princeling; but I sympathised with the fair queen who
had honoured him with her hand, for she was a Stuart and a Scot, born
in our ancient palace of Linlithgow; and, when at college, I had
heard much of the sufferings which her husband's base cowardice
compelled her to endure after the great battle of Prague. Yearly our
stout-hearted Scots were crowding in thousands to the German wars; I
longed, like them, to have an opportunity of avenging her on the
cruel and aggressive Imperialists; and it was this sentiment which
shed the glory of chivalry around our mission.
Our hereditary enemies, the English, who naturally hated us as Scots,
were wont to taunt us as mercenaries, who sold our swords and our
blood to the highest bidder; though, God wot! we got more blows and
bullets than silver dollars in Low Germanie; and once, by the banks
of the Rhine, for lack of those same silver dollars, I saw old
General Morgan's brigade of English and Dutch refuse to attack the
enemy, when our Scottish invincibles, and a regiment of gallant
Irishmen, fell briskly on, and did their work with pike and rapier.