CLEARED FOR ACTION.
"The boat rocks at the pier o' Leith,
Fu' loud the wind blaws down the ferry,
The ships ride at the Berwick Law,
And I maun leave my bonnie Mary."--_Scottish Song_.
As his barge glided into the stream, and Leith with its pier, spires,
and sandy links, melted into the sunny haze; as the harbour closed
and narrowed astern; the admiral, after remaining long silent,
exclaimed,--
"Well---split my topsails, if I would not rather endure the English
fire, yardarm and yard arm for eight glasses, than overhall all this
talk again with these herring-faced lordlings; but one day, gadzooks!
I hope to make the best among them lower his ancient at the king's
name."
"They have cast a glamour over the Lord Drummond," said Barton, with
a gloomy expression in his eyes; "he was kind to me once, and but for
my father's death and this unhappy strife, I had been ere now his
son-in-law, and holding a banquet, perhaps, in yonder hall, where all
that rabble rout of hostile peers hold council."
"Thy fair weather and smooth anchorage are coming, Robert," said the
admiral; "and what sayst thou, Davie Falconer?"
"That fickle fortune, I fear me, will never tire of persecuting one
who ever courts her smiles; though sooth to say, I never fear her
frowns. Poor Lady Sybilla, how sad, how pale she looked!"
"Be not cast down, Falconer," continued the kind old Laird of Largo,
on seeing the arquebussier gazing dreamily at the tall house of
Barton, which stood like a watch-tower on the left bank of the Leith;
"be not heavy o' heart, because thy purse is at low water; thou shalt
have thy winsome bride yet, my lad! And if the king gives thee not
land, thou shalt never lack siller while auld Andrew Wood hath a shot
in his locker. Thy father's son, Davie, shall beat to windward, and
keep in the line of battle with the best craft in the fleet. The
happiest occurrence in the voyage of life is to be brought to by a
bonny young lass."
"How wobegone young Rothesay looked to-day," said Falconer.
"Ah! there our king (God bless him!) was wrong," said the admiral;
"he should have given the lad a longer swing to his cable, or a
little more headway, in the matter of running after the winsome dames
at court, as young princes will do at times. The tide of experience
would soon have brought him into deep water. I know that, though an
auld sailor, who (St. Mary be thanked) knoweth as much anent courts
and cities as a seamew may; but hilloh! what is astir here?" he
added, as the barge sneered alongside the Yellow Caravel, and two
very ominous loops were seen to dangle from her foreyard-arms.
History informs us that the admiral had just returned in time to save
his two noble hostages from being hung; for the crew having become
alarmed by his long stay on shore, were preparing--by order of Sir
Alexander Mathieson, who took command in his absence--with great
deliberation to run George Lord Seaton and John Lord Fleming to the
yardheads; and the poor nobles (both good and worthy men) were in the
very act of making their peace with Heaven, through the intervention
of Father Zuill, when the admiral stepped on board, and at once
despatched them on shore, where the account they gave to Angus and
others of their treatment, made the peers more than ever dread and
abhor the Laird of Largo and his crews.
"Tell the spearmen o' the Lord Angus," shouted Cuddie over the side,
as their boat was shoved off, "that d--n my auld buits if----"
"Peace, coxswain," said Barton; "thou ever becomest crank when
lacking ballast, or when thine orlof is overstowed with usquebaugh;
so, silence--man the tackles, and hoist the boats on board."
"Lords, indeed!" muttered the admiral, as he walked aft; "were my
honour not pledged, I would fain have belayed the dogsons to the
whipping-post, and given them a round dozen with a rope's end, just
as a fare-ye-well. But heave short on the anchor, Barton--cast loose
the courses, and make sail on the ship."
History (to which in these chapters we are obliged to have constant
reference) informs us, that though the admiral had several ships at
his disposal, and the English squadron consisted of five sail, he
somewhat unwisely resolved "to take _only his own two_," meaning the
_Yellow Frigate_ and the _Queen Margaret_, which had been built at
the Newhaven, under his own eye; and so, after desiring the other
armed vessels, whose captains adhered to him and the cause of the
missing king, to cruise between Leith Roads, St. Margaret's Hope, and
Alloa, to cut off the communication of the insurgents with Fife, he
weighed anchor, and stood down the river about six in the evening,
favoured by a gentle south-west wind.
There were great preparations made for battle on board these two
stately ships, as under a press of canvas, they bore down the Forth,
between Inchkeith and those two reefs known as the Briggs and the
Craigness, and steered for the Isle of May, which lay north-east by
east, but was not visible from that part of the river. The admiral
and his officers remained in their harness. Willie Wad and his
yeomen hoisted powder up from the magazine; the boatswain was
preparing all the culverins on the long and clumsy slides then in
use; the arquebussiers put fresh matches to the serpentine cocks of
their firearms; filled their priming horns, and buckled on their
bullet-bags, which were hung at the right hip, and all were on deck
in their jazarine jackets and steel caps, swords, and daggers. The
seamen were accoutred in nearly a similar manner, and armed
themselves from the racks of Jedwood axes, hand-guns, and
boarding-pikes, that were framed round the masts and the bulwarks of
the poop. All were noisy, loquacious, and enthusiastic, save a few
of the quiet married men, whose wives and little ones were watching
their departure from the shore.
"Away aloft, Cuddie--get into the fore-crosstrees," said the admiral,
"and thou shalt have a can of egg-flip and three silver bonnet pieces
the moment ye sight these English ships. Will she not carry more,
Barton?"
"Not without leaving Sir Alexander too far astern; but we may try:
master boatswain, rig me a guy on the spanker-boom, sheet home the
mizen-staysail, and up with that cross-jackyard a bit."
This primitive contrivance has now been replaced by the gaff, and to
the lower end of it the staysail was then bent on. Though the summer
evening was then bright on shore, a thick white haze arose from the
broad estuary, and hid the land on both sides. The admiral became
merry as the river widened, and the May arose in a faint blue line at
the horizon; and he said to the gunner,--
"Pass the word, Willie, to Father Zuill, to quit the mass-book--to
overhaul his hurdy-gurdy, and ship on its mirrors, for gadzooks, we
will be aboard the English in another hour or two."
"Carry those shot to their guns, Willie Wad," said Barton, kicking
away some balls that were rolling about the deck; "no iron should
ever come within seven feet of a binnacle."
The wind soon became lighter and more aft; and as the yards were
squared more, the staysails began to shiver. The vessels were now
going slowly through the water, and cleaving a shining passage that
left a long wake astern. The sun of June set brilliantly behind the
distant Ochils; the shores were mellowed in haze; but above it, the
peculiar hill of North Berwick rose on the starboard bow, gleaming in
the western light like a volcanic cone of flame. As the glow faded
on the waters, a light, like a gigantic star, began to beam among the
hills astern.
This was Saint Anthony's Light--a beacon which was burned by the good
and charitable Hospitallers of St. Anthony upon the tower of their
hermitage on the rocks above Holyrood. This tower was then more than
forty feet high, and thus its light was seen far down the estuary, in
which it was the only beacon in those days; for there was then no
Pharos on Inchkeith (which belonged to _Keith_, the Earl Marischal),
and was without a night-beacon until the early part of the
seventeenth century. The island, in the time of James III., was a
place of compulsory retirement for lepers and other sick persons; and
was a famous resort of water-cows and kelpies; and on the rocks there
the mermaids, with curling tails, a looking-glass in one hand and a
comb in the other, are _still to be seen_, as more than one hardy
boatman of Newhaven, and pious elder of the Fishwives Kirk, are ready
to aver on oath, especially when the moon is S. by W., and the tide
is full between Granton and Kinghorn.