THE FIRST BISHOPS' WAR
Only one town of importance now refused to acknowledge the new power.
Aberdeen, then the second city in Scotland, rich, populous, learned,
and loyal from the first, still turned a deaf ear alike to the
promises and the threats of the Covenant. The citizens of Aberdeen
were no bigoted followers of Laud. They held rather of the school
of their late bishop, the wise and benevolent Forbes, content with
things as they were, and suspicious of any change which threatened
to interfere with their comfortable and studious independence. They
desired, indeed, chiefly to be let alone; but not to be for the
Covenant was to be against it, and there was, moreover, a particular
reason why Aberdeen could not be suffered to remain neutral. It was
the capital of that large district wherein the House of Gordon reigned
supreme, as the House of Campbell was supreme in the West; and the
Aberdeen burghers, whatever their religious opinions might be, could
not but be the political allies of the House of Gordon. The old
Marquis of Huntly had been always a favourite with James, who knew
that the fiery old Papist if one of the most turbulent was also one
of the most loyal of his subjects. His son George, who had lately
succeeded him, had been brought up at Court with the young princes in
the faith of the English Church, and had married a sister of Argyll.
He had for some time commanded the Scottish Guard in France, and had
served with distinction in the campaign against Austria; but the
lavish state he had maintained as captain of that famous corps had
plunged him deep into debt, and it was believed that he would listen
to any proposal likely to relieve his desperate fortunes. Overtures
had already been made to him from the Covenant on these conditions,
and had been rejected. "My house," he said, "has risen by the Kings
of Scotland, has ever stood for them, and with them shall fall, nor
will I quit the path of my predecessors; and if the event be the
ruin of my sovereign, then shall the rubbish that belongs to it bury
beneath it all that belongs to mine." The spirit which prompted this
gallant answer was sincere, but, as Charles and Montrose were both to
find to their cost, it could not always rise superior to more selfish
feelings. For the present he had been appointed Lieutenant for the
King in the North, instructed to arm his men, and promised succours
from England. But he had also been instructed to take his orders from
Hamilton, and not to act without them; for the present he had merely
to get ready, to stand on the defensive, and above all things to avoid
any open act of hostility. Huntly knew well enough the futility of
such orders. Not to move without Hamilton was to stay where he was
till he was turned out by the Covenanters. Still there was nothing for
him but to obey, and hold himself in readiness to join hands with the
unwelcome ally who had been thrust upon him.
There was no time to be lost. The King was slowly assembling an army
for the Borders, and the Covenanters could not march south with such
an enemy in their rear. If Hamilton could effect a juncture with
Huntly on the east coast, at the same time as the Irishry under
Antrim and Strafford were landed on the west, it would go ill with
the Covenanters. They had not been idle. The castles of Edinburgh,
Dumbarton, and Dalkeith had been carried by surprise within a few
hours of each other, and Mar could be trusted to hold Stirling safe.
In the West the power of Hamilton and Douglas had been dealt a serious
blow by the seizure of their strongholds in Arran and Clydesdale.
Of all the fortresses in Scotland, Lord Nithsdale's Castle of
Caerlaverock in Dumfriesshire was alone held for the King. From the
Border to the North Sea the Covenant was supreme, save only in that
dangerous district which called Huntly lord, and against the power of
Huntly the arms of the Covenant were now turned.
The command was given to Montrose. His restless and enterprising
spirit marked him for the work among men whose talents appeared to
lie rather in debate than in the field. His own estates, moreover,
lay near, and though his following was but a handful compared with
Huntly's power, he would be more likely to gain recruits than an
unknown leader. But Montrose was young, hot-headed, too fond, it was
feared, of his own way, possibly also too punctilious. Some older
man must go with him, more experienced in war and more accustomed
also to obey, who, while nominally Montrose's lieutenant, might
keep a watchful eye over him. The man for this purpose was found in
Alexander Leslie, a cadet, though an illegitimate one, of the House
of Rothes. Though a little man and deformed, Leslie had won fame and
rank in the Thirty Years' War, where so many of his countrymen had
been fighting for the Protestant cause under the great Gustavus.
During a short visit to Scotland in the spring of 1638 Leslie had seen
how the land lay. He had returned to Germany, but not for long. By the
end of the year he was back again, with good news and better than news
for the Covenanters. During his absence he had been recruiting for
them among their countrymen who, like himself, had taken service under
the Lion of the North, and collecting stores of military supplies.
Some of these were intercepted by the English cruisers, but the most
part found their way into Scotland, where Leslie was welcomed with
open arms. He was soon appointed general of the Covenanting forces,
and they could not have found a better man. Though without the
military genius of his nephew David, he was as accomplished in all the
mechanism of war as any man of his time, cool, sagacious, and certain
never to be hurried into mischief by a misguided enthusiasm for any
cause. King and Covenant were much the same to him; but fighting was
his trade; the death of Gustavus had set him free to serve another
flag; he was a Scotsman and a Protestant, above all a kinsman of
Rothes, whose "canniness" was not likely to let so useful an ally go.
Leslie was, in short, a favourable specimen of that class of soldier
of fortune which the incomparable genius of Walter Scott has fixed for
ever in the character of Dugald Dalgetty.
This was not Montrose's first visit to Aberdeen as an agent for the
Covenant. He had been there in the previous summer, but in more
peaceful guise. Instead of Leslie and a following of armed soldiers,
he had been accompanied only by a few laymen of no particular
importance, and the three apostles of the Covenant, Henderson,
Dickson, and Cant. It was not a very fruitful visit. The ministers
of Aberdeen would not give up their pulpits to the strangers, and
the apostles had to deliver their doctrine from a gallery of the
Earl Marischal's house, then occupied by his sister Lady Pitsligo,
a staunch Puritan after the fashion of Hamilton's mother and of
Montrose's own aunt Lady Wigton. Montrose was of course present,
sitting at her ladyship's side, to the regret, doubtless, of many
who recalled the different circumstances in which they had last seen
him, when the bells rang in honour of the gallant young bridegroom
who had just been elected a burgess of their loyal town. The apostles
wisely chose the hours between the church services so as to make sure
of an audience; and an audience they secured, but one not entirely
to their taste. The respectful part listened with more curiosity
than conviction, and not all were respectful. A few insignificant
proselytes were gained, and a grievous insult was cast upon the good
city. Aberdeen prided itself upon its hospitality, and when the
provost and bailies heard that their young townsman was on the road
to visit them, they prepared a collation in his honour and came to
welcome him at his lodging. But Montrose treated them with scant
ceremony, and refused to receive anything at their hands till they
had subscribed the Covenant, an affront which had never before, they
vowed, been put upon Aberdeen within the memory of man!
They prepared a different welcome now for the young Earl. The
citizens were armed and drilled, guns mounted, trenches dug, and the
town generally put into such a state of defence as was possible.
Meanwhile Montrose was at his own place in Forfarshire, beating up
for recruits. While there he heard that the few allies the Covenant
could boast in that quarter were to meet at Turriff, a market-town
on the borders of Banffshire, mostly gentry of the district, Frasers
and Forbeses, who were jealous of the Gordons and ready to join any
party against them. Huntly heard also of the meeting and resolved to
disperse it. But Montrose was too quick for him. With one of those
lightning dashes which were to be the secret of his successes against
the Covenant, he now won the first point in the game for it. Taking
with him barely two hundred of his own men, he hurried across the
Grampians by the most unfrequented routes, and when Huntly at the
head of two thousand men marched into Turriff he was greeted with a
compact array of musket-barrels levelled at him across the wall of the
little churchyard. His orders were explicit. He was not to proclaim
his commission till the time came, and that mysterious moment was to
be decided not by him but by Hamilton. Moreover he was to avoid all
risk of bloodshed for the present. He knew Montrose would fight, and,
though he was perhaps the better man for the moment, he knew also that
Leslie was at hand with a force more than double his own. Had the
positions of the two leaders been reversed there can be no doubt what
Montrose would have done. But Huntly was not Montrose. He withdrew to
Inverury, and disbanding the most part of his men left Aberdeen to
its fate.
This was not so severe as probably the citizens had expected, and as
certainly some of the Covenanters wished. A few days after the affair
at Turriff, Montrose joined hands with Leslie and entered Aberdeen
in triumph at the head of six thousand men, each of whom wore a blue
scarf, or carried a knot of blue ribbons in his cap, in opposition
to the royal scarlet which Huntly had taken for his colours. To
condescend to the devices of these godless cavaliers shocked some of
Montrose's solemn captains, but the young general was right. He knew
the value of a distinctive symbol to warm men's hearts, especially the
hearts of soldiers, and that it was none the worse for pleasing their
eyes as well. The blue ribbons were at once popular, and Montrose's
_whimsies_, as they were at first contemptuously called, soon became
the recognised badge of the Covenanters.
There was no attempt at opposition. Disgusted at Huntly's defection,
the most resolute spirits had left the city and sailed south to join
the King. The rest could do nothing but accept the Covenant and trust
to Montrose's mercy. He was not hard upon them. Having marched his men
through the town he quartered them on the links outside, with strict
injunctions to keep good order and to pay for all they consumed. The
citizens were set to work at filling up the trenches they had dug and
removing all traces of their improvised fortifications, and a fine of
ten thousand marks was imposed on the town. Then, leaving behind him a
garrison under the command of his college friend Lord Kinghorn, whom
he named governor of the town, Montrose marched north after Huntly,
who had retreated from Inverury to Gordon Castle in the Bog of Gicht.
Huntly was anxious to come to terms, and Montrose when left to
himself had no wish to make them hard. The two men accordingly met by
appointment near Inverury, each attended by eleven friends armed only
with walking-swords. The two chiefs stepped aside to talk. What passed
between them can only be conjectured, but after a long conference
Huntly and his companions returned with Montrose to his camp at
Inverury, where they were courteously received. Here Huntly signed a
paper, known in the language of the time as a bond of maintenance,
probably containing (for its exact terms were never made clear)
those clauses of the Covenant which professed respect to the King's
authority and a love for the national religion and liberties, pledging
himself also not to interfere with any of his vassals who had a mind
to mount the blue ribbon. Such of them as were Papists Montrose, on
his part, promised to protect so long as they were willing to assist
in maintaining the laws and liberties of their common fatherland.
Huntly, however, who saw many of his personal enemies in the camp,
Crichton of Frendraught in particular, the sworn foe of his House,[6]
was doubtful how far this arrangement would be allowed to hold good.
He employed one of his followers, therefore, to warn Montrose against
evil counsellors who, he said, would be certain to work him all the
mischief they could. Montrose answered that he was well aware that
Huntly had many enemies among the Covenanters, but that he should
not fail in any part of his word; "only," he added, "there is this
difficulty, that business here is all transacted by a vote and a
committee, nor can I get anything done of myself." He had already done
so much, it was urged, that he might well go on with the rest. He was
in command, and if he stood firm the others must give way. "I shall do
my utmost for Huntly's satisfaction," was the answer, and with this
assurance the Marquis and his friends were suffered to depart.
Their doubts were soon verified. Montrose returned to Aberdeen, where
he was joined by Murray, Seaforth, the Master of Lovat, and other
zealous Covenanters with a body of cavalry. Encouraged by these
reinforcements, Huntly's enemies were soon at work. A council of
war was held; it was agreed that the General had been too lenient
with a dangerous man, and the Marquis was requested to repair to
Aberdeen under a promise of safe conduct. How far Montrose was
directly responsible for what followed it is hard to decide. That he
had promised more than he was at the time confident of being able
to perform is clear; but it is by no means so clear that he did not
do his utmost to keep his promise, and it is unreasonable to brand
him with treachery because he was not strong enough to carry the
day single-handed against the vote and the committee. Yet though he
may have meant to deal honestly with Huntly, when he found himself
overborne in the council he certainly seems to have shown little
hesitation in acting as the agent of those who had no such scruples.
After a series of trifling and vexatious conditions had been offered
and refused, it was intimated that the Marquis would do well to return
with them to Edinburgh. Conscious that he was in a trap Huntly first
asked that his bond should be restored to him. When this had been
done, he asked if he was to go as a prisoner or as a free man. "Make
your choice," said Montrose shortly. "Then," was the answer, "I will
not go as a prisoner, but as a volunteer." Whatever share Montrose
may have had in this double dealing he was destined to pay dear for
it on a later day. The Marquis never really forgave him; and their
subsequent alliance proved costlier to Montrose and to the King than
their present enmity proved to Huntly.
Montrose marched south with his prize on April 13th, leaving Aberdeen
in charge of a committee composed of the Gordons' bitterest foes.
Immediately on his arrival at Edinburgh, Huntly was brought before
the Tables and pressed to subscribe the Covenant. "You may take my
head from my shoulders," was his answer, "but not my heart from my
sovereign." He was at once sent as a prisoner to the Castle, with his
heir Lord Gordon who had accompanied him from Aberdeen. His second
son, Lord Aboyne, should also have been there, but he had been allowed
by Montrose to return home on parole to procure money and other
necessaries for the journey, and when safe within his own borders
had easily been persuaded to break his word with men who had shown
so little care of their own. The House of Gordon, said his kinsmen,
could not be left without a head at such a crisis. Lord Lewis, the
third son, was too young, and it devolved therefore on him to play his
father's part, and to keep the King's flag flying in the midst of
traitors and rebels.
Montrose reached Edinburgh on April 20th. On May 1st Hamilton anchored
in the Firth of Forth with nineteen sail, five thousand men, and some
munitions of war. He came too late. Leith had been fortified. Fife and
the Lothians were in arms to a man. Among the crowds who thronged the
shore to stare at the English fleet came the old Dowager Countess of
Hamilton, riding on horseback, with pistols at her saddle, and vowing,
in a spirit worthy of her ancestor, the grim old Reforming Earl of
Glencairn, to shoot her son dead with her own hand should he dare to
set a hostile foot on Scottish soil. A stouter heart than Hamilton's
might well have shrunk from the prospect before him. His men were
raw English peasants, without drill or discipline and careless of
the cause for which they had been armed with weapons of whose use
they were ignorant. Opposed to them was a people as well equipped and
better officered, inflamed with the belief that their religion and
liberties were at stake, and resolute to accept no compromise till
both had been secured. Present action was plainly impossible; but
useful time might be gained by diplomacy, which, if it could effect
nothing else, might serve to remind the Covenanters that Hamilton,
though circumstances had placed him at the head of an English army,
was still at heart a Scotsman. He therefore landed his men on the
little islands of Inchcolm and Inchkeith, where they could be taught
at least how to handle their muskets, opened negotiations with the
enemy, and commenced a lugubrious correspondence with the King.
Meanwhile Aboyne had gone south to find Charles, and had met him at
Newcastle. The spirited young fellow undertook to raise his father's
vassals, if some help in men and money were forthcoming. Money
there was none, but some of the men now lying idle in the Forth
might be available. Aboyne was therefore sent back to Scotland with
instructions to Hamilton to furnish him with what troops he could
spare; but before he could reach the fleet the position of affairs had
again changed. The Gordons had risen without waiting for their young
chief, had scattered the Covenanting garrison in a skirmish popularly
known as the Trot of Turriff (which marks the virtual beginning of the
Civil War), and had re-occupied Aberdeen. Montrose had marched north
again with a force of four thousand men. And Hamilton, on whom the
eyes of all Royalists and Covenanters in Scotland were now anxiously
turned, had sent two out of his three regiments south to swell the
army Charles was now laboriously mustering at York!
This inexplicable movement had been made by the King's order, but
on Hamilton's advice. That advice had been given on May 21st, seven
days after the Gordons had risen. The order had been sent on the
23rd, and on the next day Charles learned the news from Aberdeen. His
position was undoubtedly serious. Leslie was advancing to the Border
with an army which, though less than rumour made it at Newcastle, was
far larger than the force Charles had as yet been able to collect,
far readier and far more eager to fight. But it is clear that such
reinforcements as Hamilton could furnish, while they could have
availed little against the trained and resolute troops of Leslie,
had been invaluable in the North, where the war was as yet rather
feudal than national, where the forces on both sides were small and
disorganised, and where five thousand men, however unskilful, would
have been sufficient to turn the scale on either side. The Royalists
held Aberdeen from the 15th to the 20th of May. Had Hamilton joined
them before the latter day it would have been necessary to place
a larger force at Montrose's disposal, and Leslie's march to the
Border must have been checked for the time. But for three weeks the
King's lieutenant seems to have remained in complete ignorance that
the King's loyal subjects were in arms for him within less than a
hundred miles. We have seen that the rising was known at Newcastle on
the 24th. It was known in Edinburgh, it was known even to Huntly in
his prison, before the regiments had left the Forth. Yet the one man
then in Scotland whom it most concerned to know these things for his
master's sake, who alone in Scotland had the means and the warrant to
profit by the knowledge, who was at liberty to come and go, to receive
messengers and to despatch them, who knew that the young Gordon was
in communication with the King, who had some experience of military
affairs, and who, with all his faults, has never been called a coward,
sat idly through all that precious time apparently in complete
ignorance of events with which all the country round him was ringing.
He was still ignorant of them when Aboyne arrived in the Forth on the
29th. Hamilton was profuse in regrets and courtesies. Men he had none
to spare; but he entertained his young friend sumptuously on board
his own ship, with discharge of cannon at every health, after the
fashion once in vogue at the Court of Denmark, presented him with a
few small field-pieces, and an officer whom he warranted to be of the
highest skill, courage, and experience, and who vindicated this praise
by earning among the Royalists the name of Traitor Gun. Two days later
news arrived from Aberdeen, and Aboyne at once sailed north with these
valuable succours. Some vague promises were indeed held out to him of
possible reinforcements, if they could be spared from England; and
it seems that Hamilton, on Aboyne's arrival, had written for more
troops, a request which, immediately following the arrival of those he
had just parted with, must have considerably puzzled his unfortunate
master. That he might possibly have done better to accompany the lad
with his remaining regiment than to stay in a place where he had
confessed himself unable to be of any service does not appear to have
entered into Hamilton's head.
Meanwhile Montrose had reached Aberdeen, and found his work already
done. The loyal barons, without any organisation or military skill,
and finding no help where they looked for it in the South, had
retreated before the Earl Marischal, and the luckless city was once
more in the hands of the Covenant. Now at least the punishment which
it had twice so righteously deserved would surely not be withheld. The
ministers, who had as usual accompanied the troops, pressed Montrose
to give up to pillage the degenerate town which had for the second
time refused to come to the help of the Lord against the mighty. But
again Montrose disappointed them. Some violence there was and some
plundering. The day after his arrival was Sunday, and while he and
his officers were at their devotions the soldiers busied themselves
in less orthodox fashion. One particular act of wanton cruelty was
long remembered. After the Covenanters' last visit the good dames
of Aberdeen, allowing their zeal to outrun their judgment, as is
sometimes still the wont of female politicians, decked their dogs
with blue ribbons in scorn of the rebel colours. Furious at this
profanation of their precious symbol the soldiers slaughtered every
poor brute they could lay hands on. But on the morrow the General took
strict order with his men. A fine of ten thousand marks was laid upon
the city. If the money was paid by eleven o'clock on the following
day, no further harm should be done; if not, Aberdeen would be given
up to plunder. This money was paid punctually, and Aberdeen was spared.
Two days later, on May 30th, Montrose marched north to punish the
Gordons. The castle of Gicht was his first point. But Gicht was
strong, its defenders were resolute and skilful, and the Covenanters
had no siege-train. For two days and nights Montrose battered the
walls in vain, and then fell back, or leaped back as his fashion
was, on Aberdeen. He had heard that Aboyne was on the sea, and
never doubted that Hamilton was with him, for Montrose had left
Edinburgh before the English troops had sailed for Holy Island. If
a superior force got between him and the capital it might fare hard
with both, and his own was not what it had been. Many of his men
had deserted, disgusted--so Baillie hints, and probably with truth,
for the Highlander was not alone then in holding free quarters and
indiscriminate pillage to be an essential part of warfare--at their
General's misplaced humanity. Resting his army for a day in Aberdeen,
he marched south on June 4th.
The day after his departure Aboyne dropped anchor in the Dee. Two
vessels of sixteen guns each and a Newcastle collier composed his
fleet. His fighting force consisted of a few young gentlemen as
inexperienced as himself, the field-pieces he had brought from the
Forth, and the vaunted Gun. For some days he lay in the harbour, in
the vain hope of more aid from Hamilton; but the only result of the
delay was the defection of some of his comrades whose loyalty was
not proof against inaction. An ally, however, appeared from another
quarter. His brother, Lord Lewis, a madcap boy of thirteen, marched
into Aberdeen on June 7th at the head of a thousand of his father's
retainers, with pipes sounding, drums beating, and flags flying. Fired
at this gallant display the citizens mustered to arms, and on June
14th Aboyne took the field with a somewhat miscellaneous army of four
thousand men.
Meanwhile Montrose and Marischal had joined forces at Stonehaven.
Their numbers were vastly inferior to Aboyne's, and they were ill
supplied with cannon. So little did they like the prospect that they
had thoughts of intrenching themselves in Marischal's strong castle
of Dunnottar. But Gun's folly, or, as some said, his treachery, came
to their aid. Within a mile of Stonehaven he turned off from the high
road and drew up his men on an open heath exposed to the full fire of
Montrose's guns. Fortunately for Aboyne they were not many; but they
were more than enough for the Highlanders. They could not face the
musket's mother, as they called the cannon, and at the first discharge
they broke and fled. The citizens followed them, raising a cry of
_Treachery_! Only the cavalry stood firm, gallant gentlemen of the
house of Gordon, and masking this ignominious scene enabled Aboyne to
fall back on Aberdeen without pursuit.
Hitherto Montrose's victories had been bloodless. He had shown,
indeed, all the qualities of a great captain that circumstances had
permitted--decision, promptness, activity; but he had not yet come
to blows with an enemy. The time was now at hand for him to show his
metal in hard fighting.
Aboyne was in a bad plight. The Highlanders were in hot flight back
to their mountains. The most part of his artillery and ammunition
was on board ship, and the ships were out of reach. The sapient Gun
had recommended that the little fleet should keep a course parallel
to the land route, and that the heavy guns and ammunition should be
sent on board not to cumber the march. But the ships had been blown
out to sea, and were now no one knew where. Still the gallant young
fellow did not despair. There was the chivalry of his House, six
hundred strong, well mounted and armed. The citizens were ashamed
of themselves and afraid of Montrose, who they knew would be soon
at their gates. Under these combined feelings they rallied to the
vigorous call of Colonel Johnston, their provost's son, and mustered
round their young leader.
Montrose had only waited to bring up some heavier guns from Dunnottar.
On the 17th an advanced party of his troopers encountered an equal
number of the Gordon horse within six miles of the town, and were
beaten back with the loss of two men. The Gordons were led by the
gallant Johnston, who implored Aboyne to let him advance with the
whole body of his cavalry. The advice seemed good to all but Gun, and
Aboyne, in the face of repeated warnings, still listened to Gun.
Yet the prospect was far from hopeless. The Dee was in flood, and the
only approach was by the bridge, a fine structure of seven arches,
two miles distant from the city. This had been hastily fortified.
The gate at the southern end had been closed and strengthened with
turf and earth; the roadway was lined with stout citizens who knew
how to handle a musket. Johnston was in command, and the cavalry
were gathered on the farther bank, ready to act should the passage
be forced. On the morning of the 18th the attack commenced. Montrose
had planted his artillery on a hill a few hundred yards south of
the bridge, and under a hot cannonade the Covenanters advanced to
the assault. But the guns made more noise than execution, and the
Aberdonians were no Highland caterans to be frightened by noise. Twice
the assailants fought their way on to the bridge-head, and twice
they were beaten back by Johnston and his musketeers. Some companies
from Dundee, which had ever been jealous of Aberdeen, made a special
request to Montrose to be allowed to try their hands. He bade them
go on in the name of the Covenant. But so hot was the fire that met
them, and so grim looked the ranks of horsemen on the other side, that
they wavered and broke before the gate was reached, amid the jeers of
the citizens who, like the three Romans on the bridge at Janiculum,
bade their rivals welcome to Aberdeen. The spirit of the city rose
high. All ranks swore to stand their ground to the last; and women,
bringing meat and drink down to their gallant defenders, moved about
unshrinking amid the storm of shot and the shouts of the combatants.
All day the fight raged, and when the sun fell the Covenanters were
forced to own themselves as far from Aberdeen as ever.
But his countrymen had now to learn that Montrose was one whose
courage and resource only rose higher in the face of defeat. During
the night he brought two of his heaviest guns up to the gate of the
bridge. In the early morning the assault recommenced. A few discharges
from this new battery soon cleared away the rude defences. At the same
time Montrose ordered a body of horse to move up the river as though
they had found a ford. Gun at once ordered a counter-demonstration.
He was told that there was no ford, that the river was passable only
by the bridge, and that so long as that was held the city was safe.
His only answer was a threat to throw up his commission if his orders
were not obeyed. Aboyne yielded to his evil genius once more, and this
time with fatal results. As the Gordons moved up the river, Montrose
ordered a general assault. Middleton led the way--a rough soldier of
fortune, whose name appears now for the first time in the history of
a country destined to know it well hereafter. Still the defenders
fought bravely, and while Johnston was at their head the issue was
still doubtful. But a cannon-shot dislodged a part of the parapet of
the bridge that fell upon Johnston and crushed his leg. He was with
difficulty extricated and carried into the town. A cry rose that he
was dead. The citizens, without their brave leader, lost heart and
gave way. The cavalry, returning from their bootless ride, might
have charged the Covenanters home as they streamed in disorder across
the bridge; but Gun, swearing that all was lost, gave the signal for
flight. "The Gordons never leave the field without charging," said one
of them. Another called Gun a coward and a traitor to his face. But
the instinct of safety was too strong. The citizens were in flight on
all sides, and the chivalry of the Gordons turned their horses' heads
north, and galloped off to Strathbogie with their young chief and the
wretched Gun in the midst of them. Montrose had won his first battle.
He was determined, however, to save Aberdeen, and he succeeded after
a hard struggle. Scarcely were they within the walls when Marischal
and the Frasers were urgent with him to give the city up to fire and
pillage, in obedience, as they reminded him, to the warrant of his
orders. Montrose bade them sleep a night on the matter. Aberdeen,
he said, was a great city, the London of the North, and would be of
more value to the Covenant and the country as it stood than when laid
smoking in ruins. He was successful in persuading his colleagues not
only to adopt his milder measures, but also to sign a paper admitting
their share in this disregard of the Covenant's orders. Even then
the passions of a victorious soldiery might have prevailed. They
had already seized and imprisoned those whom they could recognise
as having been most forward in the defence, and had committed other
acts of violence. But in the moment of time came the news of the
Pacification at Berwick, which had been actually signed on the 18th
during the heat of the fight at the bridge. This set the matter at
rest. A fine, for the second time within the month, was imposed on the
city: the prisoners were set at liberty; and Montrose, withdrawing his
army to a safe distance, disbanded it on the terms of the treaty.