Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, III, 209, 1803; II, 226, 1833.
From recitation.
The report of the success of the Covenanters at Drumclog brought four or
five thousand malcontents into the rising, many of whom, however, were
not radicals of the Hamilton type, but moderate Presbyterians. After not
a little moving up and down, they established their camp on the
nineteenth of June at Hamilton, on the south side of the Clyde, near the
point where the river is crossed by Bothwell Bridge. They were deficient
in arms and ammunition and in officers of military experience. “But,” as
a historian of their own party says, “the greatest loss was their want
of order and harmony among themselves; neither had they any person in
whom they heartily centred, nor could they agree upon the grounds of
their appearance.” Both before and after their final encampment at
Hamilton, they were principally occupied with debating what testimony
they should make against Popery, Prelacy, Erastianism, and the
Indulgence, and whether their declaration should contain an
acknowledgment of the king’s authority. Dissension ran high, “and
enemies had it to observe and remark that ministers preached and prayed
against one another.”
The king named the Duke of Monmouth to command his army in Scotland.
Both the instructions which were given him and the duke’s own temper
were favorable to an accommodation. The royal forces were at Bothwell
Muir on the twenty-second of June, and their advanced guards within a
quarter of a mile of the bridge. The duke marched his army to an
eminence opposite the main body of the enemy, who lay on the moor (st.
10). The bridge was held by Hackston of Rathillet and other resolute
men. It was very defensible, being only twelve feet wide and rising from
each end to the middle, where there was a gate, and it was also
obstructed with stones. Early in the morning a deputation was sent by
the rebels to the duke to lay before him their demands. He heard them
patiently, and expressed his willingness to do all that he could for
them with the king, but would engage himself to nothing until they laid
down their arms. He gave them an hour to make up their mind. The
officers of the insurgents were unable to come to an agreement.
Hamilton, who assumed the general command, was against any pacific
arrangement, and no answer was returned. In the interim four
field-pieces had been planted against the bridge. The defenders
maintained themselves under the fire of these and of the musketeers and
dragoons until their own powder was exhausted, and then unwillingly
withdrew to the main body, by Hamilton’s order. The bridge was cleared
of obstructions, and the royal army crossed and advanced in order of
battle against the rebels on the moor. The first fire made the
Covenanters’ horse wheel about, and their retreat threw the nearest foot
into disorder; in consequence of which the whole army fell into
confusion. Twelve hundred surrendered without resistance, the rest fled,
and several hundred were killed in the pursuit.[81]
1–9. William Gordon of Earlston, a hot Covenanter, while on his way to
Hamilton on the twenty-second to join the insurgents, fell in with some
dragoons who were pursuing his already routed copartisans, and,
resisting their attempt to make him prisoner, was killed. His son
Alexander, a man of more temperate views, was at Bothwell Bridge,[82]
and escaped. Although Earlston in st. 4 is represented as bidding
farewell to his father, the grotesque narrative with which the ballad
begins can be understood only of the father; sts. 7, 8 make this
certain.
9. It seems to be meant, as grammar would require, that it is the
‘Lennox lad,’ and a Covenanter, that sets up ‘the flag of red set about
with blue.’ In “Old Mortality,” Sir Walter Scott makes the Covenanters
plant “the scarlet and blue colors of the Scottish covenant” on the keep
of Tillietudlem. Whether he had other authority than this ballad for the
scarlet, I have not been able to ascertain. All the flags of the
covenant may not have been alike, but all would probably have a ground
of blue, which is known to have been the Covenanters’ color. One flag,
which belonged to a Covenanter who figured at Drumclog and Bothwell
Bridge, has fortunately been preserved. It is of blue silk, with three
inscriptions, one of which is, “No Quarters to y^e Active Enimies of y^e
Covenant,” first painted in some light color, afterwards repainted in a
dull red. (Napier, I, xliv).
The last half of the stanza must be spoken by Monmouth, and the tone of
it is more chivalrous than the circumstances call for.
12–15. For Claverhouse’s cornet, see the preceding ballad. Captain John
Graham, for that was all he then was, was not conspicuous at Bothwell
Bridge. He commanded the horse on the right, and Captain Stuart the
dragoons on the left, when the advance was made on the Covenanters. He
was as capable of insubordination as Robert Hamilton was of Erastianism,
and it is nearly as unnecessary, at this day, to vindicate him from the
charge of cruelty as from that of procuring Monmouth’s execution six
years in advance of the fates.[83]
‘Earlistoun,’ Chambers, Twelve Romantic Scottish Ballads, p. 26, is this
piece with the battle omitted, or stanzas 1–6, 7^{1,2}, 8^{3,4}, 16.
Scott observes: “There is said to be another song upon this battle, once
very popular, but I have not been able to recover it.”
There is a stall-ballad of Bothwell Brigg, not traditional, a very good
ballad of its sort, with a touching story and a kindly moral, which may
or may not be later than Sir Walter Scott’s day. It is of John Carr and
his wife Janet and a non-covenanting lady, who carries off John, badly
wounded, from the field (where he had fought better than most of his
party), and nurses him in her lord’s castle till he is well enough to be
visited by his wife.
Translated by Talvj, Charakteristik, p. 581.
* * * * *
1
‘O billie, billie, bonny billie,
Will ye go to the wood wi me?
We’ll ca our horse hame masterless,
An gar them trow slain men are we.’
2
‘O no, O no!’ says Earlstoun,
‘For that’s the thing that mauna be;
For I am sworn to Bothwell Hill,
Where I maun either gae or die.’
3
So Earlstoun rose in the morning,
An mounted by the break o day,
An he has joind our Scottish lads,
As they were marching out the way.
4
‘Now, farewell, father! and farewell, mother!
An fare ye weel, my sisters three!
An fare ye well, my Earlstoun!
For thee again I—‘ll never see.’
5
So they’re awa to Bothwell Hill,
An waly, they rode bonnily!
When the Duke o Monmouth saw them comin,
He went to view their company.
6
‘Ye’re welcome, lads,’ then Monmouth said,
‘Ye’re welcome, brave Scots lads, to me;
And sae are you, brave Earlstoun,
The foremost o your company.
7
‘But yield your weapons ane an a’,
O yield your weapons, lads, to me;
For, gin ye’ll yield your weapons up,
Ye’se a’ gae hame to your country.’
8
Out then spak a Lennox lad,
And waly, but he spoke bonnily!
‘I winna yield my weapons up,
To you nor nae man that I see.’
9
Then he set up the flag o red,
A’ set about wi bonny blue:
‘Since ye’ll no cease, and be at peace,
See that ye stand by ither true.’
10
They stelld their cannons on the height,
And showrd their shot down in the how,
An beat our Scots lads even down;
Thick they lay slain on every know.
11
As eer you saw the rain down fa,
Or yet the arrow frae the bow,
Sae our Scottish lads fell even down,
An they lay slain on every know.
12
‘O hold your hand,’ then Monmouth cry’d,
‘Gie quarters to yon men for me;’
But wicked Claverhouse swore an oath
His cornet’s death revengd sud be.
13
‘O hold your hand,’ then Monmouth cry’d,
‘If ony thing you’ll do for me;
Hold up your hand, you cursed Græme,
Else a rebel to our king ye’ll be.’
14
Then wicked Claverhouse turnd about—
I wot an angry man was he—
And he has lifted up his hat,
And cry’d, God bless his Majesty!
15
Than he’s awa to London town,
Ay een as fast as he can dree;
Fause witnesses he has wi him taen,
An taen Monmouth’s head frae his body.
16
Alang the brae beyond the brig,
Mony brave man lies cauld and still;
But lang we’ll mind, and sair we’ll rue,
The bloody battle of Bothwell Hill.
207