It has been remarked by all the historians of that period, that the
proceedings of Clavers about this time were severe in the extreme. The
rising, both in the north and south at the same time, rendered the
situation of affairs somewhat ticklish. Still the Lowlands were then
perfectly peaceable; but he seemed determined, lest he should be called
away, to destroy the Covenanters, and all that hankered after civil and
religious liberty, root and branch. Certainly his behaviour at
Chapelhope that morning, was sufficient to stamp his character for ever
in that district, where it is still held in at least as great
detestation as that of the arch-fiend himself.
When the soldiers, by his order, seized and manacled Walter, he
protested vehemently against such outrage, and urged the general to
prove his fidelity to his sovereign by administering to him the test
oath, and the oath of abjuration; but this Clavers declined, and said to
him, with a sneer, that "they had other ways of trying dogs beside
that."
When those who had been appointed to search the house came before him,
and gave in their report, among other things, they said they had found
as much bread new baked, and mutton newly cooked, as would be a
reasonable allowance for an hundred men for at least one whole day.
Clavers remarked, that in a family so few in number, this was proof
positive that others were supported from that house. "But we shall
disappoint the whigs of one hearty meal," added he; and with that he
ordered the meat to be brought all out and set down upon the green--bid
his troopers eat as much as they could--feed their horses with the
bread which they left, and either destroy the remainder of the victuals
or carry them away.
It was in vain that Walter told him the honest truth, that the food was
provided solely for himself and his soldiers, as he knew they were to
come by that road, either on that day or the one following; nay, though
all the family avouched it, as they well might, he only remarked, with a
look of the utmost malignity, that "he never in his life knew a whig who
had not a d--d lie ready on his tongue, or some kind of equivocation to
save his stinking life, but that they must necessarily all be taught who
they were dealing with." He then made them all swear that they were to
tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and to utter
the most horrid imprecations on themselves and their souls for ever, if
they deviated in one single item; and beginning with old John, as
before related, he examined them all separately and out of hearing of
one another.
The interrogations and answers are much too long to be inserted here at
full length; but the only new circumstances that came to light were
these two. One of the young men deponed, that, when the bodies of the
soldiers were found in the Hope, their muskets were all loaded, which
showed that they had not fallen in a regular skirmish; and the other boy
swore, that he had lately seen eighty large thick bannocks baked in one
day in his father's house, for that he had counted them three times over
as they stood cooling. This was another suspicious circumstance, and
Clavers determined to search it to the bottom. He sifted the two youths
backward and forward, trying to get the secret out of them by every wile
in his power; and because they were unable to give him any satisfactory
account who consumed all that store of bread, he caused his dragoons to
take hold of the youngest and gird his head with a cord, twisting it
with a horse pistol, until in some places it cut him to the skull. The
eldest he hung up to the beam by the thumbs until he fainted through
insufferable pain; but he could get nothing more out of them, for they
had at first told him all that they knew, being quite unconscious of any
evil.
Still bent, as it seemed, on the full conviction and ruin of the family,
he told the boys that they were two of the most consummate knaves and
rebels that he had in all his life seen; and that if they had any hopes
at all of going to Heaven, they should say their prayers, for in a few
minutes he would order them both to be shot.
John, the eldest, who possessed a good deal of his mother's feebleness
of character, and was besides but newly recovered from a fainting fit,
was seized with a stupor, appeared quite passive, and acted precisely as
they bade him, without seeming to know what he did; but the youngest,
whose name was William, preserved an interesting firmness, in such a
trial, for a considerable time. On being advised by Clavers to tell all
he knew rather than die, and asked if he was not afraid of death? He
answered, with the tear in his eye, "I'm nouther feared for you nor
death, man. I think if fock may be guidit this way at their ain hames,
the sooner they're dead the better." Then turning his looks to his
brother, who kneeled according to the general's order on the green
beside him, he added, with convulsive sobs, "But poor Jock's gaun to be
shot too--I wonder what ye need kill him for?--What ill hae we ever done
t'ye?--Jock's a very good callant--I canna pray weel, but if ye'll let
my billy Jock gang, I'll pray for ye as I can, and kiss ye too."
Happy was it for the wits of poor Maron that she saw nothing of this
touching scene; she, as well as Walter, being then with the rest under a
strong guard in the Old Room. Clavers paid no regard to the kneeling
boy's request. He caused his troopers to draw up around them, present
their firelocks, and then an executioner, who was always one of his
train, tied up both their eyes. He gave the word himself, and instantly
ten or twelve carabines were discharged on them at once. John fell flat
on the earth; but William, with a violent start, sprung to his feet,
and, being blindfolded, ran straight on the files of soldiers.
Clavers laid hold of him. "My brave little fellow," said he, "the
soldiers have all missed you, bungling beasts that they are! and since
so wonderful a thing hath befallen, you shall yet have your life, though
a most notorious rebel, if you will tell me what people frequent your
father's house."
"What's comed o' Jock?" said the boy, "O tell me what's comed o' Jock,
for I canna see."
"Jock is lying dead on the green there, all bathed in his blood," said
Clavers; "poor wretch! it is over with him, and unless you instantly
tell me who it was that consumed all that store of bread that has been
baked in your father's house for the last month, you must be sent after
him."
William withdrew backward a few paces, and kneeling a second time down
on the sward with great decency and deliberation, "Shoot again," said
he; "try me aince mair; an' O see to airch a wee better this time. I wad
rather dee a hunder times, or I saw poor Jock lying a bloody corp."
Clavers made a sign to one of his dragoons, who unbound William, and
took the bandage from his eyes. Regardless of all else, he looked wildly
around in search of his brother, and seeing his only companion lying
flat on his face, he at first turned away, as if wishing to escape from
a scene so dismal; but his helpless and forlorn situation staring him in
the face, and the idea doubtless recurring that he was never to part
with his brother, but forthwith to be slaughtered and carried to the
grave with him, he returned, went slowly up to the body, kneeled down
beside it, and pulling the napkin farther down over the face to keep the
dead features from view, he clasped his arms about his brother's neck,
laid his cheek to his, and wept bitterly.
The narrator of this part of the tale was wont to say, that the scene
which followed had something more touching in it than any tongue could
describe, although Clavers and his troops only laughed at it. William
had now quite relinquished all sensations of fear or danger, and gave
full vent to a flood of passionate tenderness and despair. He clasped
his brother's neck closer and closer, steeped his cheek with his tears,
and seemed to cling and grow to the body with a miserable fondness.
While he was giving full scope in this manner to the affections of his
young heart, his brother made a heave up with his head and shoulder,
saying at the same time, like one wakening from a dream, "Little Will,
is that you?--Haud aff--What ails ye?"
William raised up his head,--fixed his eyes on vacancy,--the tears
dried on his cheek, and his ruby lips were wide open,--the thing was
beyond his comprehension, and never was seen a more beautiful statue of
amazement. He durst not turn his eyes towards his brother, but he
uttered in words scarcely articulate, "Lord! I believe they hae missed
Jock too!"
Clavers had given private orders to his dragoons to fire over the heads
of the two boys, his intent being to intimidate them so much as to
eradicate every principle of firmness and power of concealment from
their tender minds; a scheme of his own fertile invention, and one which
he often practised upon young people with too sure effect. When William
found that his brother was really alive, and that both of them were to
be spared on condition that he gave up the names and marks of all the
people that had of late been at Chapelhope; he set himself with great
earnestness to recount them, along with every mark by which he
remembered them, determined that every hidden thing should be brought to
light, rather than that poor Jock should be shot at again.
"Weel, ye see, first there was Geordie Skin-him-alive the flesher, him
that took away the crocks and the paulies, and my brockit-lamb, and gae
me a penny for setting him through atween the lochs. Then there was
Hector Kennedy the tinkler, him that the bogles brought and laid down at
the door i' the night-time--he suppit twa bickerfu's o' paritch, an'
cleekit out a hantle o' geds an' perches wi' his toum. Then there was
Ned Huddersfield the woo-man, wi' the leather bags and the skeenzie
thread--him that kissed our bire-woman i' the barn in spite o' her
teeth,--he had red cheeks and grit thees, and wasna unlike a glutton; he
misca'd my father's woo, an' said aye, 'Nay, it's nane clean,
howsomever,--it's useless, that's its warst fault.' Then there was wee
Willie the nout herd, him that had the gude knife an' the duddy breeks;
but the Brownie's put him daft, an' his mither had to come an' tak him
away upon a cuddy."
In this manner went he on particularizing every one he remembered, till
fairly cut short with a curse. John continued perfectly stupid, and when
examined, answered only _Yes_, or _No_, as their way of asking the
question dictated.
"Are there not great numbers of people who frequent your father's house
during the night?"
"Yes."
"Do you see and hear them, after you go to bed?"
"Yes."
"What are they generally employed in when you hear them? Do they read,
and pray, and sing psalms?"
"Yes."
"Do your father and mother always join them?"
"Yes."
Here William could restrain himself no longer. "Gude faith, Jock, man,"
said he, "ye're just telling a hirsel o' eindown lees. It canna be lees
that the man wants, for that maks him nae the wiser; an' for you to say
that my father rises to pray i' the night-time, beats a', when ye ken my
mither has baith to fleitch an' fight or she can get him eggit on till't
i' the Sabbath e'enings. He's ower glad to get it foughten decently by,
to rise an' fa' till't again. O fye, Jock! I wad stand by the truth;
an', at ony rate, no just gaung to hell open mouth."
When the volley of musketry went off, all the prisoners started and
stared on one another; even the hundred veterans that guarded them
appeared by their looks to be wholly at a loss. Macpherson alone
ventured any remark on it. "Pe Cot's life, fat she pe pluff pluffing at
now? May the teal more pe her soul's salvation, if she do not believe te
man's pe gone out of all reason."
The women screamed; and Maron, whose tongue was a mere pendulum to the
workings of the heart within, went on sighing and praying; asking
questions, and answering them alternately; and at every pause, looked
earnestly to her husband, who leaned against the corner of the room,
ashamed that his bound hands should be seen.
"Och! Aigh me!" cried Maron,--"Dear sirs, what's the fock shootin
at?--Eh?--I'm sure they hae nae battlers to fight wi' there?--No ane--I
wat, no ane. Aigh now, sirs! the lives o' God's creatures!--They never
shoot nae callants, do they? Oh, na, na, they'll never shoot innocent
bairns, puir things! They'll maybe hae been trying how weel they could
vizy at the wild ducks; there's a hantle o' cleckins about the saughs o'
the lake. Hout ay, that's a'.--He hasna forgotten to be gracious, nor is
his mercy clean gane."
Thus poor Maron went on, and though she had but little discernment left,
she perceived that there was a tint of indignant madness in her
husband's looks. His lips quivered--his eyes dilated--and the wrinkles
on his brow rolled up to the roots of his dark grizzled hair, "Watie,"
cried she, in a shrill and tremulous voice--"Watie, what ails ye--Oh!
tell me what ails ye, Watie?--What's the fock shooting at? Eh? Ye'll no
tell me what they're shooting at, Watie?--Oh, oh, oh, oh!"
Walter uttered no word, nor did his daughter, who sat in dumb
astonishment, with her head almost bent to her feet; but old Nanny
joined in full chorus with her mistress, and a wild unearthly strain the
couple raised, till checked by Serjeant Roy Macpherson.
"Cot's curse be t--ning you to te everlasting teal! fat too-whooing pe
tat? Do you think that should the lenoch beg pe shot trou te poty, tat
is te son to yourself? Do you tink, you will too-whoo him up
akain?--Hay--Cot tamn, pe holding your paice."