Ringan Gilhaize, or, The Covenanters

by John Galt

  CHAPTER LXXI

  It was in the cool of the evening, on Saturday, the last day of May,when my brother came over to my house, where, with Michael, I hadprepared myself to go with him to Loudon-hill. Our intent was to walkthat night to Kilmarnock, and abide till the morning with our brotherJacob's widow, not having seen her for a long time.

  We had in the course of that day heard something of the publication of"The Declaration and Testimony," which, through the vehemence of thepreachers before spoken of, had been rashly counselled at Ruglen, thetwenty-ninth of the month; but there was no particulars, and what we didhear was like, as all such things are, greatly magnified beyond thetruth. We, however, were grieved by the tidings; for we feared somecause of tribulation would be thereby engendered detrimental to thereligious purposes of our journey.

  This sentiment pressing heavily on our hearts, we parted from my familywith many misgivings, and the bodements of further sorrows. But theoutward expression of what we all felt was the less remarkable, onaccount of what so lately had before happened in my brother's house. Norindeed did I think at the time, that the foretaste of what was ordainedso speedily to come to a head was at all so lively in his spirit, orthat of my son, as it was in mine, till, in passing over the top of theGowan-brae, he looked round on the lands of Quharist, and said,--

  "I care nae, Ringan, if I ne'er come back; for though we hae lang dweltin affection together yon'er, thae that were most precious to me are nowboth aneath the sod,"--alluding to his wife who had been several yearsdead,--and poor Bell, that lovely rose which the ruthless spoiler had sotrampled into the earth.

  "I feel," said Michael, "as if I were going to a foreign land, there issic a farewell sadness upon me."

  But we strove to overcome this, and walked leisurely on the high roadtowards Kilmarnock, trying to discourse of indifferent things; and asthe gloaming faded, and the night began to look forth, from herwatch-tower in the heavens, with all her eyes of beautiful light, wecommuned of the friends that we trusted were in glory, and marvelled ifit could be that they saw us after death, or ever revisited the personsand the scenes that they loved in life. Rebellion or treason, or anysense of thoughts and things that were not holy, had no portion in ourconversation: we were going to celebrate the redemption of fallen man;and we were mourning for friends no more; our discourse was of eternalthings, and the mysteries of the stars and the lights of that worldwhich is above the firmament.

  When we reached Kilmarnock we found that Jacob's widow had, with severalother godly women, set out towards the place of meeting, to sojourn witha relation that night, in order that they might be the abler to gatherthe manna of the word in the morning. We therefore resolved not to haltthere, but to go forward to the appointed place, and rest upon the spot.This accordingly doing, we came to the eastern side of Loudon-hill, thetrysted place, shortly after the first scad of the dawn.

  Many were there before us, both men and women and little children, andhorses intermingled, some slumbering, and some communing with oneanother; and as the morning brightened, it was a hallowed sight tobehold from that rising ground the blameless persecuted coming withsedate steps to worship their Maker on the mountain.

  The Reverend Mr Thomas Douglas, who was to open the action, arrivedabout the rising of the sun with several other ministers, and behindthem four aged men belonging to Strathaven bearing the elements.

  A pious lady, whose name I never heard, owing to what ensued, spreadwith her own hands a damask tablecloth on the ground, and the bread andwine were placed upon it with more reverence than ever was in kirk.

  Mr Douglas having mounted upon a rock nigh to where this was done, wasabout to give out the psalm, when we observed several country lads, thatwere stationed as watchers afar off, coming with great haste in; andthey brought word, that Claverhouse and his dragoons were coming todisperse us, bringing with them the Reverend Mr King, a preacher of thegospel at Hamilton, and others that they had made prisoners, tied withcords two and two.

  The tidings for a moment caused panic and consternation; but as the menwere armed, and resolved to resist, it was thought, in consideration ofthe women and children, that we ought to go forward, and prevent theadversaries from advancing. Accordingly, to the number of fortyhorsemen, and maybe near to two hundred foot, we drew ourselves apartfrom the congregation, and marched to meet Claverhouse, thinking,perhaps, on seeing us so numerous, that he would not come on,--while MrDouglas proceeded with the worship, the piety of none with him beingabated by this grievous visitation.

  Mr William Clelland, with Mr Hamilton, who had come with Mr Douglas,were our leaders, and we met Claverhouse on the moor of Drumclog.

  The dragoons were the first to halt, and Claverhouse, having ordered hisprisoners to be drawn aside, was the first who gave the word to fire.This was without any parley or request to know whether we came withhostile intent or no. Clelland, on seeing the dragoons make ready, criedto us all to den ourselves among the heather; by which forethought theshot flew harmless. Then we started up, and every one, with the best aimhe could, fired at the dragoons as they were loading their carabines.Several men and horses were killed, and many wounded. Claverhouse seeingthis, commanded his men to charge upon us; but the ground was rough, theheather deep, and the moss broken where peats had been dug, and thehorses floundered, and several threw their riders, and fell themselves.

  We had now loaded again, and the second fire was more deadly than thefirst. Our horsemen also seeing how the dragoons were scattered, fell inthe confusion as it were man for man upon them. Claverhouse raged andcommanded, but no one now could or would obey. In that extremity hishorse was killed, and, being thrown down, I ran forward to seize him, ifI could, prisoner; but he still held his sword in his hand, and risingas I came up, used it manfully, and with one stroke almost hewed myright arm from my shoulder. As he fled I attempted for a moment tofollow, but staggered and fell. He looked back as he escaped, and Icried--"Blood for blood;" and it has been so, as I shall hereafter inthe sequel relate.

  When the day was won, we found we numbered among the slain on the sideof the vanquished nearly twenty of the dragoons: on our side we lost butone man, John Morton--a ripe saint; but several were wounded; and JohnWeir and William Daniel died of their wounds. Such was the day ofDrumclog.

  Being wounded, I was carried to a neighbouring farm, attended by mybrother and son, and there put upon a cart and sent home to Quharist, asit was thought I would be best attended there. They then returned to therest of the host, who, seeing themselves thus brought into open war,resolved forthwith to proceed to Glasgow, and to raise again the bannerof the Covenant.

  But Claverhouse had fled thither, burning with the thought of being soshorn in his military pride by raw and undisciplined countrymen, whom,if we had been bred soldiers, maybe he would have honoured, but beingwhat we were, though our honour was the greater, he hated us with thedeadly aversion that is begotten of vanity chastised; for that it waswhich incited him to ravage the West Country with such remorselessness,and which, when our men were next day repulsed at Glasgow with the lossof lives, made him hinder the removal of the bodies from the streets,till it was said the butchers' dogs began to prey upon them.

  But not to insist on matters of hearsay, nor to dwell at any greaterlength on those afflicting events, I must refer the courteous reader tothe history of the times for what followed, it being enough for me tostate here that as soon as the news spread of the battle and thevictory, the persecuted ran flocking in from all quarters, by which therope of sand, that the Lord permitted Monmouth to break atBothwell-brigg, was soon formed. My brother and my son were both there,and there my gallant Michael lies. My brother, then verging onthreescore, being among the prisoners, was, after sore sufferings in theGreyfriars church-yard of Edinburgh, sent on board a vessel as abondsman to the plantations in America. His wrongs, however, werehappily soon over; for the ship in which he was embarked perished amongthe Orkney islands, and he, with two hundred other sufferers, receivedthe crown of martyr
dom from the waves.

  O Charles Stuart, king of Scotland! and thou, James Sharp!--false andcruel men--But ye are called to your account; and what avails it now tothe childless father to rail upon your memory?