Upon the whole, there was no proof against Walter. Presumption was
against him, but the evidence was rather in his favour. Military law,
however, prevailed; and he found that there was no redress to be had of
any grievance or insult, that this petty tyrant, in his caprice, thought
fit to inflict. His drivers were ordered to take the whole stock from
the farms of Kirkinhope, belonging to David Bryden, who lived at a
distance, because it was proven, that Mr Renwick had preached and
baptized some children on the bounds of that farm. That stock he caused
to be taken to Selkirk, and sent orders to the sheriff to sell it by
public roup, at the cross, to the highest bidder; but with Walter's
stock he did not meddle at that time; so far did justice mark his
proceedings. He strongly suspected him, and wished to have him
convicted; and certainly would have taken all the family with him
prisoners, had not the curate-clerk arrived at that critical time. Him
Clavers consulted apart, and was soon given to understand the steadfast
loyalty of the gudewife, daughter, and all the family, save Walter,
whom, he said, he suspected of a secret connivance with the Cameronians.
This was merely to serve a selfish purpose, for the clerk suspected no
such thing at that time. It had the desired effect. Clavers set all the
rest of the family free, but took the good man with him prisoner; put
two of his best horses in requisition; mounted himself on a diminutive
poney, with the thumbikins on his hands, and his feet chained below its
belly. In this degrading situation, he was put under the care of
Serjeant Roy Macpherson and five troopers; and Clavers, with the rest
of his company, hasted, with great privacy and celerity, into that
inhospitable wild, which forms the boundary between Drummelzier and the
Johnstons of Annandale. The greater part of the fugitives had taken
shelter there at that time, it being the most inaccessible part in the
south of Scotland, and that where, of all others, they had been the
least troubled. No troops could subsist near them; and all that the
military could do was to set watches near every pass to and from these
mountains, where a few stragglers were killed, but not many in
proportion to the numbers that had there sought a retreat.
The Covenanters knew that Clavers would make a sweeping and
exterminating circuit about that time--incidents which were not to be
overlooked, had been paving the way for it--incidents with which the
main body of that people were totally unconnected. But it was usual at
that time, and a very unfair practice it was, that whatever was said,
or perpetrated, by any intemperate fanatical individual, or any crazy
wight, driven half mad by ill usage--whatever was said or done by such,
was always attributed to the whole sect as a body. It is too true that
the Privy Council chose, invariably, men void of all feeling or remorse
to lead these troops. A man had nothing to study but to be cruel enough
to rise in the army in those days; yet, because there was a Dalziel, a
Graham, a Creighton, and a Bruce among the king's troops, it would be
unfair to suppose all the rest as void of every principle of feeling and
forbearance as they. In like manner, because some of the Covenanters
said violent and culpable things, and did worse, it is hard to blame the
whole body for these; for, in the scattered prowling way in which they
were driven to subsist, they had no controul over individuals.
They had been looking for the soldiers' appearing there for several
days, and that same morning had been on the watch; but the day was now
so far advanced that they were waxen remiss, and had retired to their
dens and hiding-places. Besides, he came so suddenly upon them, that
some parties, as well as several stragglers, were instantly discovered.
A most determined pursuit ensued, Clavers exerted himself that day in
such a manner, gallopping over precipices, and cheering on his dragoons,
that all the country people who beheld him believed him to be a devil,
or at least mounted on one. The marks of that infernal courser's feet
are shewn to this day on a steep, nearly perpendicular, below the Bubbly
Craig, along which he is said to have ridden at full speed, in order to
keep sight of a party of the flying Covenanters. At another place,
called the Blue Sklidder, on the Merk side, he had far outrode all his
officers and dragoons in the pursuit of five men, who fled straggling
athwart the steep. He had discharged both his pistols without effect;
and just as he was making ready to cleave down the hindmost with his
sabre, he was attacked by another party, who rolled huge stones at him
from the precipice above, and obliged him to make a hasty retreat.
Tradition has preserved the whole of his route that day with the utmost
minuteness. It is not easy to account for this. These minute traditions
are generally founded on truth; yet though two generations have scarcely
passed away since the date of this tale,[A] tradition, in this instance,
relates things impossible, else Clavers must indeed have been one of the
infernals. Often has the present relater of this tale stood over the
deep green marks of that courser's hoof, many of which remain on that
hill, in awe and astonishment, to think that he was actually looking at
the traces made by the devil's foot, or at least by a horse that once
belonged to him.
Five men were slain that day; but as they were all westland men, very
little is known concerning them. One of them was shot at a distance by
some dragoons who were in pursuit of him, just as he was entering a
morass, where he would certainly have escaped them. He is buried on a
place called the Watch Knowe, a little to the south-east of Loch Skene,
beside a cairn where he had often sat keeping watch for the approach of
enemies, from which circumstance the height derived its name. When he
fell, it being rough broken ground, they turned and rode off without
ever going up to the body. Four were surprised and taken prisoners on a
height called Ker-Cleuch-Ridge, who were brought to Clavers and shortly
examined on a little crook in the Erne Cleuch, a little above the old
steading at Hopertoudy.
Macpherson kept the high road, such as it was, with his prisoner; but
travelled no faster than just to keep up with the parties that were
scouring the hills on each side; and seeing these unfortunate men hunted
in from the hill, he rode up with his companions and charge to see the
issue, remarking to Walter, that "he woolt not pe much creat deal te
worse of scheeing fwat te Cot t--n'd fwigs would pe getting."
How did Walter's heart smite him when he saw that one of them was the
sensible, judicious, and honourable fellow with whom he fought, and
whose arm he had dislocated by a blow with his stick! It was still
hanging in a sling made of a double rash rope.
They would renounce nothing, confess nothing, nor yield, in the
slightest degree, to the threats and insulting questions put by the
general. They expected no mercy, and they cringed for none; but seemed
all the while to regard him with pity and contempt. Walter often said
that he was an ill judge of the cause for which these men suffered; but
whatever might be said of it, they were heroes in that cause. Their
complexions were sallow, and bore marks of famine and other privations;
their beards untrimmed; their apparel all in rags, and their hats
slouched down about their ears with sleeping on the hills. All this they
had borne with resignation and without a murmur; and, when brought to
the last, before the most remorseless of the human race, they shewed no
symptoms of flinching or yielding up an item of the cause they had
espoused.
When asked "if they would pray for the king?"
They answered, "that they would with all their hearts;--they would pray
for his forgiveness, in time and place convenient, but not when every
profligate bade them, which were a loathful scurrility, and a mockery of
God."
"Would they acknowledge him as their right and lawful sovereign?"
"No, that they would never do! He was a bloody and designing papist,
and had usurped a prerogative that belonged not to him. To acknowledge
the Duke of York for king, would be to acknowledge the divine
approbation of tyranny, oppression, usurpation, and all that militates
against religion or liberty, as well as justifying the abrogation of our
ancient law relating to the succession; and that, besides, he had
trampled on every civil and religious right, and was no king for
Scotland, or any land where the inhabitants did not chuse the most
abject and degrading slavery. For their parts, they would never
acknowledge him; and though it was but little that their protestations
and their blood could avail, they gave them freely. They had but few
left to mourn for them, and these few might never know of their fate;
but there was _One_ who knew their hearts, who saw their sufferings, and
in Him they trusted that the days of tyranny and oppression were wearing
to a close, and that a race yet to come might acknowledge that they had
not shed their blood in vain."
Clavers ordered them all to be shot. They craved time to pray, but he
objected, sullenly alleging, that he had not time to spare. Mr Copland
said,--"My lord, you had better grant the poor wretches that small
indulgence." On which Clavers took out his watch, and said he would
grant them two minutes, provided they did not howl. When the man with
the hurt arm turned round to kneel, Walter could not help crying out to
him in a voice half stifled with agony--
"Ah! lak-a-day, man! is it come to this with you, and that so soon? This
is a sad sight!"
The man pretended to put on a strange and astonished look towards his
benefactor.
"Whoever you are," said he, "that pities the sufferings of a hapless
stranger, I thank you. May God requite you! but think of yourself, and
apply for mercy where it is to be found, for you are in the hands of
those whose boast it is to despise it."
Walter at first thought this was strange, but he soon perceived the
policy of it, and wondered at his friend's readiness at such an awful
hour, when any acknowledgment of connection would have been so fatal to
himself. They kneeled all down, clasped their hands together, turned
their faces to Heaven, and prayed in a scarce audible whisper. Captain
Bruce, in the mean time, kneeled behind the files, and prayed in
mockery, making a long face, wiping his eyes, and speaking in such a
ludicrous whine, that it was impossible for the gravest face to retain
its muscles unaltered. He had more to attend to him than the miserable
sufferers. When the two minutes were expired, Clavers, who held his
watch all the time, made a sign to the dragoons who were drawn up,
without giving any intimation to the sufferers, which, perhaps, was
merciful, and in a moment all the four were launched into eternity.
The soldiers, for what reason Walter never understood, stretched the
bodies all in a straight line on the brae, with their faces upwards, and
about a yard distant from one another, and then rode off as fast as they
could to get another hunt, as they called it. These four men were
afterwards carried by the fugitives, and some country people, and
decently interred in Ettrick church-yard. Their graves are all in a row
a few paces from the south-west corner of the present church. The
goodman of Chapelhope, some years thereafter, erected a head-stone over
the grave of the unfortunate sufferer whose arm he had broken, which,
with its rude sculpture, is to be seen to this day. His name was Walter
Biggar. A small heap of stones is raised on the place where they were
shot.
The last look which Walter took of the four corpses, as they lay
stretched on the brae, with the blood streaming from them, had nearly
turned his brain. His heart sunk within him. For years and days they
never left his mind's eye, sleeping nor waking. He always thought he saw
them lying on the green sloping brae, with their pale visages, blue open
lips, clasped hands, and dim stedfast eyes still fixed on the Heavens.
He had heard Clavers and his officers called heroes: He wished those who
believed so had been there that day to have judged who were the greatest
heroes.
"There! let them take that!" said Captain Bruce, as he mounted his
horse.
"Poor misled unfortunate beings!" said Copland, and mounted his.
"Huh! Cot t--n!" said Roy Macpherson, in a voice that seemed to struggle
for an outlet; and Walter, to his astonishment, saw a tear glistening on
his rough weather-beaten cheek, as he turned to ride away!
The pursuit continued unabated for the whole of that day. There was a
great deal of firing, but the hills of Polmoody were inaccessible to
cavalry. There was no more blood shed. They lodged that night at a place
called Kippelgill, where they put every thing in requisition about the
house, and killed some of the cattle. Clavers was in extremely bad
humour, and Walter had no doubt that he once intended to have sacrificed
him that night, but seemed to change his mind, after having again
examined him. He was very stern, and threatened him with the torture,
swearing that he knew him to be the supporter of that nest of miscreants
that harboured around him, and that though he should keep him prisoner
for a dozen years, he would have it proven on him. Walter made oath that
there had never one of them been within his door, consistent with his
knowledge; that he had never been at a conventicle; and proffered to
take the test, and oath of abjuration, if allowed to do so. All this
would not satisfy Clavers. Walter said he wondered at his discernment,
for, without the least evil or disloyal intent, he found he had rendered
himself liable to punishment, but how he could be aware of that he knew
not.
That night Walter was confined in a cow-house, under the same guard that
had conducted him from Chapelhope. The soldiers put his arms round one
of the stakes for the cattle, and then screwed on the thumbikins, so
that he was fastened to the stake without being much incommoded. When
Macpherson came in at a late hour, (for he was obliged likewise to take
up his abode in the cow-house over night), the first word he said was,--
"Cot t--n, she no pe liking to schee an honest shentleman tied up to a
stake, as she were peing a poollock."
He then began to lecture Walter on the magnitude of folly it would be in
him to run away, "when he took it into consideration that he had a ponny
fhamily, and sheeps, and horses, and bheasts, that would all pe maide
acchountable."
Walter acknowledged the force of his reasoning; said it was sterling
common sense, and that nothing would induce him to attempt such a
dangerous experiment as attempting to make his escape. Macpherson then
loosed him altogether, and conversed with him until he fell asleep.
Walter asked him, what he thought of his case with the general?
Macpherson shook his head. Walter said there was not the shadow of a
proof against him!
"No!" said Macpherson; "py cot's curse but there is! There is very much
deal of proof. Was not there my countrymen and scholdiers murdered on
your grhounds? Was not there mhore scoans, and prochin, and muttons in
your house, than would have peen eaten in a mhonth by the fhamily that
pelongs to yourself. By the pode more of the auld deal, but there is
more proof than would hang twenty poor peheoples."
"That's but sma' comfort, man! But what think ye I should do?"
"Cot t--n, if I know!--Who is it that is your Chief?"
"Chief!--What's that?"
"Tat is te head of te clan--Te pig man of your name and fhamily."
"In troth, man, an' there isna ane o' my name aboon mysel."
"Fwat? Cot's everlasting plissing! are you te chief of te clan,
M'Leadle? Then, sir, you are a shentleman indeed. Though your clan
should pe never so poor, you are a shentleman; and you must pe giving me
your hand; and you need not think any shame to pe giving me your hand;
for hersel pe a shentleman pred and porn, and furst coosin to Cluny
Macpherson's sister-in-law. Who te deal dha more she pe this clan,
M'Leadle? She must be of Macleane. She ance pe prhother to ourselves,
but fell into great dishunity by the preaking off of Finlay Gorm More
Machalabin Macleane of Ilanterach and Ardnamurchan."
Walter having thus set Daniel Roy Macpherson on the top of his
hobby-horse by chance, there was no end of the matter! He went on with
genealogies of uncouth names, and spoke of some old free-booters as the
greatest of all kings. Walter had no means of stopping him, but by
pretending to fall asleep, and when Macpherson weened that no one was
listening farther to him, he gave up the theme, turned himself over, and
uttered some fervent sentences in Gaelic, with heavy moans between.
"What's that you are saying now," said Walter, pretending to rouse
himself up.
"Pe sad works this," said he. "Huh! Cot in heaven aye! Hersel would be
fighting te Campbells, sword in hand, for every inch of the Moor of
Rhanoch; but Cot t--n, if she like to pe pluffing and shooting through
te podies of te poor helpless insignificant crheatures. T--n'd foolish
ignorant peheople! Cot t--n, if she pe having the good sense and
prhudence of a bheast."
Walter commended his feeling, and again asked his advice with regard to
his own conduct.
"Who is te great man tat is te laird to yourself?" asked he.
"Mr Hay of Drumelzier," was answered.
"Then lose not a mhoment in getting his very good report or security.
All goes by that. It will do more ghood than any stock of innocence; and
you had need to look very sharp, else he may soon cut you short. It's a
very good and a very kind man, but she pe caring no more for the lives
of peoples, tan I would do for as many ptarmigans."
Walter pondered on this hint throughout the night; and the more he did
so the more he was convinced, that, as the affairs of the country were
then conducted, Macpherson's advice was of the first utility. He sent
for one of the shepherds of Kippelgill next morning, charged him with an
express to his family, and unable to do any thing further for himself,
submitted patiently to his fate.
Clavers having been informed that night that some great conventicles had
been held to the southward, he arose early, crossed the mountains by the
Pennera Corse, and entered that district of the south called Eskdale.
He had run short of ammunition by the way, and knowing of no other
supply, dispatched Bruce with 20 men by the way of Ettrick, to plunder
the aisle where the ancient and noble family of the Scotts of Thirlstane
were enshrined in massy leaden chests. From these he cut the lids, and
otherwise damaged them, scattering the bones about in the aisle; but the
Scotts of Daventon shortly after gathered up the relics of their
ancestors, which they again deposited in the chests,--closed them up
with wooden lids, and buried them deep under the aisle floor, that they
might no more be discomposed by the hand of wanton depravity.
At a place called the Steps of Glenderg, Clavers met with Sir James
Johnston of Westeraw, with fifty armed men, who gave him an exaggerated
account of the district of Eskdale, telling him of such and such
field-meetings, and what inflammatory discourses had there been
delivered, insinuating all the while that the whole dale ought to be
made an example of. Clavers rejoiced in his heart at this, for the works
of devastation and destruction were beginning to wear short. The
Covenanters were now so sorely reduced, that scarcely durst one show his
face, unless it were to the moon and stars of Heaven. A striking
instance of this I may here relate by the way, as it happened on the
very day to which my tale has conducted me.
A poor wanderer, named, I think, Matthew Douglas, had skulked about
these mountains, chiefly in a wild glen, called the Caldron, ever since
the battle of Bothwell-bridge. He had made several narrow, and, as he
thought, most providential escapes, but was at length quite overcome by
famine, cold, and watching; and finding his end approaching, he crept by
night into a poor widow's house at Kennelburn, whose name, if my
informer is not mistaken, was Ann Hyslop. Ann was not a Cameronian, but
being of a gentle and humane disposition, she received the dying man
kindly--watched, and even wept over him, administering to all his wants.
But the vital springs of life were exhausted and dried up: He died on
the second day after his arrival, and was buried with great privacy, by
night, in the church-yard at Westerkirk.
Sir James Johnston had been a zealous Covenanter, and at first refused
the test with great indignation; but seeing the dangerous ground on
which he stood and that his hand was on the lion's mane, he renounced
these principles; and, to render his apostacy effective, became for a
time a most violent distresser of his former friends. He knew at this
time that Clavers was coming round; and in order to ingratiate himself
with him, he had for several days been raging up and down the country
like a roaring lion, as they termed it. It came to his ears what Ann
Hyslop had done; whereon, pretending great rage, he went with his party
to the burial ground, digged the body out of the grave, and threw it
over the church-yard wall for beasts of prey to devour. Forthwith he
proceeded to Kennelburn--plundered the house of Ann Hyslop, and then
burnt it to ashes; but herself he could not find, for she had previously
absconded. Proceeding to the boundary of the county, he met and welcomed
Clavers to his assistance, breathing nothing but revenge against all
non-conformists, and those of his own district in particular.
Clavers knew mankind well. He perceived the moving cause of all this,
and did not appear so forward and hearty in the business as Sir James
expected. He resolved to ravage Eskdale, but to manage matters so that
the whole blame might fall on Johnston. This he effected so completely,
that he made that knight to be detested there as long as he lived, and
his memory to be abhorred after his decease. He found him forward in the
cause; and still the more so that he appeared to be, the more shy and
backward was Clavers, appearing to consent to every thing with
reluctance. They condemned the stocks of sheep on Fingland and the
Casways on very shallow grounds. Clavers proposed to spare them; but Sir
James swore that they should not be spared, that their owners might
learn the value of conventicles.
"Well, well," said Clavers, "since you will have it so, let them be
driven off."
In this manner they proceeded down that unhappy dale, and at Craikhaugh,
by sheer accident, lighted on Andrew Hyslop, son to the widow of
Kennelburn above-mentioned. Johnston apprehended him, cursed,
threatened, and gnashed his teeth on him with perfect rage. He was a
beautiful youth, only nineteen years of age. On his examination, it
appeared that he had not been at home, nor had any hand in sheltering
the deceased; but he knew, he said, that his mother had done so, and in
doing it, had done well; and he was satisfied that act of her's would be
approven of in the eye of the Almighty.
Clavers asked, "Have you ever attended the field conventicles?"
"No."
"Have you ever preached yourself?"
"No."
"Do you think that you could preach?"
"I am sure I could not."
"I'll be d--d but you can pray then," said he.
He then proffered him his liberty if he would confess that his mother
had done wrong, but this he would in no wise do; for, he said, it would
be a sinful and shameful lie, he being convinced that his mother had
done what was her duty, and the duty of every Christian to do towards
his fellow-creatures.
Johnston swore he should be shot. Clavers hesitated, and made some
objections; but the other persisting, as Clavers knew he would, the
latter consented, as formerly, saying, "Well, well, since you will have
it so, let it be done--his blood be on your head, I am free of
it.--Daniel Roy Macpherson, draw up your file, and put the sentence in
execution."
Hyslop kneeled down. They bade him put on his bonnet, and draw it over
his eyes; but this he calmly refused, saying, "He had done nothing of
which he was ashamed, and could look on his murderers and to Heaven
without dismay."
When Macpherson heard this, and looked at him as he kneeled on the
ground with his hands pinioned, his beautiful young face turned toward
the sky, and his long fair ringlets hanging waving backward, his heart
melted within him, and the great tears had for sometime been hopping
down his cheeks. When Clavers gave the word of command to shoot the
youth, Macpherson drew up his men in a moment--wheeled them off at the
side--presented arms--and then answered the order of the general as
follows, in a voice that was quite choaked one while, and came forth in
great vollies at another--"Now, Cot t--n--sh--sh--she'll rather pe
fighting Clavers and all her draghoons, pe--pe--pefore she'll pe killing
tat dear good lhad."
Captain Bruce burst out into a horse-laugh, leaping and clapping his
hands on hearing such a singular reply; even Clavers had much ado to
suppress a smile, which, however, he effected by uttering a horrible
curse.
"I had forgot, Sir James," said he; "Macpherson is as brave a man as
ever strode on a field of battle; but in domestic concerns, he has the
heart of a chicken."
He then ordered four of his own guards to shoot him, which they executed
in a moment. Some of his acquaintances being present, they requested
permission of Clavers to bury him, which he readily granted, and he was
interred on the very spot where he fell. A grave stone was afterwards
erected over him, which is still to be seen at Craikhaugh, near the side
of the road, a little to the north of the Church of Eskdale-muir.
Clavers and his prisoner lodged at Westeraw that night. Johnston wanted
to have him shot; but to this Clavers objected, though rather in a
jocular manner.
Walter said, he was sure if Sir James had repeated his request another
time, that Clavers' answer would have been, "Well, well, since you will
have it so," &c.; but, fortunately for Walter, he desisted just in time.
These two redoubted champions continued their progress all next day; and
on the third, at evening, Clavers crossed Dryfe, with nine thousand
sheep, three hundred goats, and about as many cattle and horses, in his
train, taken from the people of Eskdale alone. He took care to herry Sir
James's tenants, in particular, of every thing they possessed, and
apparently all by their laird's desire, so that very little of the blame
attached to the general. He was heard to say to Sir Thomas Livingston
that night, "I trow, we hae left the silly turn-coat a pirn to
wind."--But we must now leave them to continue their route of rapine
and devastation, and return to the distressed family of Chapelhope, in
order that we may watch the doings of the Brownie of Bodsbeck.
FOOTNOTE:
[A] One of the women baptized in the Linn of Riskinhope by Renwick that
year, has several children yet alive, not very aged people.