CHAPTER XLVI
THE LEAGUER OF DUNKELD
The leaders of the Highland army knew not for a while whether most torejoice in the victory which the clans had won for the king, or togrieve for the terrible price which had been paid for it. The army ofGeneral Mackay had indeed been swept out of existence. The succors fromthe distant clans were daily pouring in. Scarlett had arrived with fourhundred more of Lochiell's claymores. Ardnamurchan and Morven sentstalwart levies. The way seemed clear to Edinburgh, from whence therecame tidings of stricken dismay among the followers of Hamilton, thatmighty prince, and where only the Wild Whigs of the West stood firm,patrolling the city and keeping ill-doers in such fear as they had notknown since Cromwell encamped betwixt the braes of Canaan and the swampof Little Egypt.
But Great Dundee was dead, and that balanced all.
For able as were many of the chiefs, and well exercised in their clanwarfare, there was not one of them, save it might be Lochiell, who wasnot jealous of every other.
And Colonel Cannon of the Irish levies, who by virtue of the king'scommission held the nominal command, was a man who possessed theconfidence of none.
So Wat Gordon, going from clan to clan on the morning after the battle,found nothing but bickering and envies among the victors--how this onehad obtained a greater share of the spoil than another, how Glengarrywas threatening to cut off Lochiell for the ancient soreness betwixtthem, and also because of some supposed favor of position on the day ofbattle.
"Tut, man," said Lochiell to his vaporing adversary, good-naturedlyclapping him on the shoulder, "if you lads of the Garryside are sofighting keen, and as full of hot blood as you say, I doubt not butthat a day or two will give you another opportunity of letting out alittle of it against the common enemy."
Wat, eager as ever to put the great controversy to the arbitrament ofbattle, raged impotently, while Major Cannon wheeled and manoeuvred theIrishmen through their drills, and carried on his miserable squabblingswith the chiefs--whom, in spite of their mutual dislikes and clanjealousies, Dundee had held in leash with such a firm yet delicate hand.
Oftentimes, as day after day was wasted, Lochinvar felt that if only hecould throw himself on the enemy, in order, if it might be to cut a waysingle-handed towards his love--even though he should be slain in thefirst hundred yards--such an end would be better than this unceasingplundering among allies and bickering between friends.
Nevertheless, the numbers of the Highland army kept up, thoughthe ranks were in a continual state of flux. As for Scarlett, themaster-at-arms was driven to distraction by the hopelessness ofteaching the clansmen anything.
Things were daily passed over which, had Dundee been above-ground,would in five minutes have brought out a firing party and ended a man'sdays against a stone dike.
Worst of all, while these precious days, when the whole force ought tohave been advancing, were thus idly slipping by, the delay gave thegovernment time to play its strongest card. The fury and enthusiasm ofthe clans was now for the first time to be brought face to face withan enthusiasm fiercer, because stiller, than their own--with a courageequally great, but graver, sterner, and, best of all, disciplined byyears of trial and persecution.
The Cameronians, known throughout Scotland as the "Seven Thousand,"had garrisoned Edinburgh during the fierce, troublous months of theConvention. When there was no other force in the country, they hadstood between the kingdom and anarchy. And now, when at last thegovernment of William was becoming better established, twelve hundredmen of the Blue Banner formed themselves into a regiment--all stern,determined, much-enduring veterans, who had brought from their Westlandhomes a hatred of the Highlanders sharpened by memories of the GreatRaid, when for months the most barbarous and savage clans had beenquartered on the West and South, till the poor folk of Galloway and Ayrwere fairly eaten up, and most of their hard-won gear vanished cleanaway into the trackless deserts of the North.
Now, in the anxious days that succeeded Killiekrankie, eight hundred ofthis Cameronian regiment had been ordered to Dunkeld, which was rightlysupposed to be the post of danger. The other four hundred of theregiment had been sent to garrison Badenoch and to keep the West quiet;so that the young Covenanting commander, Cleland--a youth not yet inhis twenty-eighth year--had but two-thirds of his regiment with him.
But such men as they were!--none like them had been seen under armssince, the Ironsides of Cromwell went back to their farm-steadings andforges.
It was no desirable stronghold which they were set to keep. Indeed,after a small experience of Dunkeld the other regiments which had beensent under Lord Cardross to assist in driving back the enemy gladlydeparted for Perth. The town, they said, was completely indefensible.It was commanded on all sides by heights, even as Killiekrankie hadbeen. The streets could readily be forced at a dozen points, and thenevery man would die miserably, like rats in a hole.
"Even so," said Cleland, calmly, to my Lord Cardross, "but I was biddento hold this town and no other, and here I and those with me will bideuntil we die."
And, as is not the case with many a valiant commander's boast, he madehis words good.
It was a very considerable army which gathered about the devotedCameronians--not less than five thousand victorious clansmen--under aleader of experience, if not of well-proven parts.
Wat was still with Lochiell, and Scarlett, in deep disgust at Keppoch'smiscellaneous plunderings, drew his sword also with the same chief.
By early morning the town was completely surrounded and the attackbegan. But the brave band of Wild Whigs of the West stuck dourly totheir outposts, and for an hour or more their little handfuls defiedbehind the walls of town-yards and ruinous petty enclosures, all theassaults of the clansmen. At last these inconsiderable outer defenceswere driven in, the whole regiment was shut up in the cathedral and inan adjoining house of many unglazed windows, which was standing roofedbut unfinished close at hand.
Here the grim men of the South, doggedly saying their prayers behindtheir clinched teeth, met and turned every assault, taking aim at theirassailants with the utmost composure and certainty.
"HE FELL INWARD AMONG THE WOUNDED"]
Clan after clan charged down upon those crumbling walls. Rush afterrush of plaided men melted before that deadly storm of bullets. ThriceWat, in the thick of Lochiell's men, dashed at the defences. Thricewas he carried back by the wave of tartan which recoiled from thereeking muskets of the men of the Covenant.
Glengarry fell wounded. The McDonalds broke. Then, in the nick oftime, the McLeans dashed into the thick of the fight and had almostwon the wall when young Cleland, rushing across the court to meet themin person, was struck by two bullets--one through his head, the otherin his side. In spite of his agony, he set his hand to his brow andstaggered towards the interior of the church, crying, "Have at them,lads! all is well with me!" This he said in order to conceal his woundfrom his men. But he fell dead or ever he reached the door.
The lead for the muskets began to give out. But in a moment there weremen on the roof of the new building stripping off the metal, whileothers beneath were melting it and thrusting the bullets, yet warm fromthe "cams," into their hotter barrels, or cutting the sheets of leadinto rough slugs to fire at the enemy.
So, relentlessly, hour by hour the struggle went on. Ever, as theattacks failed, fresh clans tried their fierce courage in emulousassault, firing once, throwing away their guns, and then charging homewith the claymore.
But these Cameronians were no levies roughly disciplined and drivenin chains to the battlefield. Men of the moors and the moss-hags werethey--good at the prayer, better at the musket, best of all with thesteady eye which directed the unshaken hand, and the quiet heart withindourly certain of victory and of the righteousness of its cause.
Clan by clan, the very men who had swept Mackay's troops into theGarry fell back shattered and dismayed from the broken defences of theHill Folk. In vain the war-pipes brayed; in vain a thousand throatscried "Claymore!" In vain Lochiell
's men drove for the fourth timedesperately at the wall. From within came no noise, save the clatterof the musket-shots running the circuit of the defences, or the dullthud as a man fell over in the ranks or collapsed like a shut telescopein his place--not a groan from the wounded, as men stricken to deathdrew themselves desperately up to get a last shot at the enemies ofChrist's Cause and Covenant, that they might face God contentedly withtheir duty done and all their powder spent.
Left almost alone in the fierce ebb of the fourth assault, Wat hadgained the top of the wall when a sudden blow on the head stunned him.He fell inward among the wounded and dying men of the defenders andthere lay motionless, while outside the last charge of the baffledclansmen broke on the stubborn hodden gray of the Cameronian regiment,vainly as the water of the ninth wave breaks on the cliffs that lookout to the Atlantic.
The chiefs still tried to rally their men. Cannon offered to lead themagain to the assault in person. But it might not be.
"We can fight men," they said, as they fell back, sullenly, "but theseare devils incarnate."
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