CHAPTER XI.
There's some say that we wan, Some say that they wan, Some say that none wan At a', man!
But one thing I'm sure, That at Sherriff Muir, A battle there was Which I saw, man.
And we ran, and they ran, And they ran, and we ran, And we ran, and they ran, Awa' man.
_Battle of Sherriff Muir._
The Duke of Argyle had not yet been reinforced by the Irish or the Dutch troops. This would indeed have been the moment for the insurgents to have made themselves masters of all the west of Scotland; but, as Lord Nithsdale informed his wife, the English counsels prevailed.
Letters were confidently asserted to have been received from Lancashire, declaring that twenty thousand men would immediately join the army upon its appearance in the county; and the various advantages attending a speedy march into England were urged with such vehemence, that the troops most in advance were suddenly recalled, and appointed to meet the main body at Langtown in Cumberland.
But the Highlanders, under the influence of the young Earl of Wintoun, who was intimately convinced of the difficulties into which they were heedlessly plunging themselves, and the favourable occasion which they were now throwing away, halted a second time. Many then deserted, and chose rather to surrender themselves prisoners, than to go forward to what they looked upon as certain destruction.
The Earl of Wintoun himself, finding that all his efforts to alter the destination of the army were fruitless, returned to the main body, but from that time he was never called to assist in a council of war; indeed, a reckless levity was henceforward visible in his whole demeanour, and he seized upon every opportunity of idle amusement which chance threw in his way, in a manner scarce befitting one engaged in an important and perilous enterprise.
Not so Lord Nithsdale; for having little hope that the most prudent course could have brought the undertaking to a successful termination, he felt less keen disappointment at the rejection of any of his counsels. In sad, but conscientious devotedness, without anger, or personal mortification, he patiently strove to smooth ruffled feelings, to accommodate jarring interests. It was principally through his influence that the ardent and intemperate young Earl of Wintoun had been induced to rejoin his companions in arms; and it was he who prevailed on some of the Highland troops to accompany them, upon the condition of receiving sixpence per day from the time they crossed the border.
The task of tracing the progress of the insurgents through Carlisle, Penrith, Appleby, Lancaster, &c. is relinquished to those who are more capable of describing the military movements and the political intrigues of such stirring times. It is enough for us that the next advices which the Countess of Nithsdale received from her husband were somewhat less gloomy in their tenour. Although the expected risings in England had not proved so numerous, or so general as the Scottish leaders had been taught to expect, still they had met with no serious opposition. They had proclaimed King James at Lancaster; they had levied the public revenue in his name, and they were rapidly advancing towards Preston.
Mar, meanwhile, had established his head quarters at Perth, and he made some attempts to fortify that city, as a place of defence in which the Chevalier might be received upon his expected landing.
The decisive morning of the 13th of November approached, the day on which the battle of Sherriff Muir was fought in Scotland, and that on which the Jacobites surrendered at Preston in Lancashire.
In the battle of Sherriff Muir the Earl of Mar displayed that energy, and that decision, which are requisite qualifications for the head of an insurrection. His eloquent and animated address to the chieftains in the council awakened a corresponding ardour in the bosoms of all, except, perhaps, of Huntley and Sinclair; and when he wound up his appeal by briefly stating the question in the words, "Fight, or not?" the whole assembly answered at once with an universal shout of "Fight!"
This resolution, reaching the lines as they were drawn up in order of battle, was welcomed by loud and continued huzzas, and a general tossing up of hats and bonnets.
Such demonstrations of eagerness for the onset promised well for the result, and for a time the insurgents bore down all before them. But, though the left wing of the Duke of Argyle's army was routed, his right wing, in its turn, put to flight the left wing of the Earl of Mar's; and to the English remained the solid fruits of victory, inasmuch as they retained the position by which they defended the Lowlands. Both generals, however, claimed the advantage; and to a party which had struggled with so many adverse circumstances, the fact of having withstood the royal forces in a pitched battle, gave some confidence for the future.
To Lady Nithsdale's hopeful heart the battle of Sherriff Muir appeared a glorious victory, which was to change the aspect of affairs. With the buoyancy of youth and loyalty, she exulted in the idea that her husband and the Scottish army were marching triumphantly through England, while the English army was sustaining a defeat in Scotland. She dwelt with pride and delight on the individual acts of prowess which came to her knowledge; and Amy hastened to her lady with every fresh piece of intelligence she could collect from chance-comers to the castle gates, thus endeavouring to beguile the tedious hours of sickening expectation, and hope deferred, in which her mistress wore away her days.
"Did you hear, my lady, how the M'Leans with one accord joined their old chief the moment he set foot among them? for all the isle of Mull belongs now to the Duke of Argyle himself."
"Indeed, Amy! And so the tie of clanship was stronger than interest, or than duty to their new landlord. And, moreover, Sir John M'Lean has been living for many years in France, and on an allowance too granted him by Queen Anne."
"However that may be, he soon raised a regiment of eight hundred men, and when they were prepared for battle, all the speech he made them was, "Gentlemen, yonder stands Mac Cullummore for King George, and here stands M'Lean for King James. God bless M'Lean and King James!--Charge, gentlemen!" and on they rushed like wild creatures. It was in that very charge the gallant young Clanronald was killed by the heavy fire of the regulars. But Glengarry would not give them time to be disheartened, but cried out, 'Revenge! revenge!--to-day for revenge, and to-morrow for mourning!'"
"Yes, yes! there is some of the true spirit left!" exclaimed Lady Nithsdale, exultingly: then, with a changed voice, she added, "But, alas! for young Clanronald: he was a brave youth, and, I have heard my lord say, a complete soldier; he had been trained in the French guards. When he received the Earl of Mar's summons, he replied, 'That his family had ever been the first on the field and the last to leave it!' and he has proved but too well that he was a worthy scion of that noble house!"
"Yes, my lady; and they say that as he fell out of the ranks, after he had got his death wound, the Earl of Mar met him, and asked him why he was not in front. 'I have had my share,' said the poor young man, and dropped dead at the earl's feet. Oh, my lady! a battle is a shocking thing! and though one is so glad to hear of a victory, and one thinks nothing of hundreds of the enemy being killed, yet when one pictures to one's self one fair and gallant youth lying pale and stiff, and cold and bloody, on the bare ground, oh! one's heart sickens within one, and one wonders how one could ever wish the king should come back among us to cause bloodshed and slaughter!"
Lady Nithsdale answered not. The words "pale, and stiff, and cold, and bloody, on the bare ground," had conjured up an image to her mind which seemed to curdle the very life-blood in her veins. She clasped her hands closely, and pressing them tightly on her knee, she sat with fixed eyes and lips compressed, striving to exclude from her mind thoughts which would rush into it.
"Oh, say no more, dear Amy; I cannot, must not think. Each day, each hour, may bring us news of a battle in England. How do we know what may be the result? Alas! if it were not for the blood which runs in my veins,--if I were not a Herbert,--if I were not married to a Maxwell, I too might wish that----But no, I will not utter what would be, in me, a dereliction of duty,--treason to the cause my lord upholds. I will remember that my lord has done that which he deemed it his duty to do; and for the event, we must leave it to Providence. We must submit, and only pray for strength to perform the part that may be allotted us, whatever that part may be. It is but two days since I received such a letter from my dear sister the abbess as should teach me to trust and to submit. Oh! if I could but look as she does, on all earthly and temporal concerns! but, alas! how can one wean one's self so entirely from this world, when it contains one's soul's treasures? Lucy has no husband! Lucy has no children! Alas! these ties hold me down so tight to earth, that not all her holy counsel, not all Father Albert's ghostly advice, are enough to detach my heart from it: I cannot fix my thoughts, as they bid me, on Heaven, and Heaven alone."
"Nay, my lady, nor is it fitting you should. It is for priests and nuns to be so much better than other people: it would never do for those who have to wrestle with the world as it is, not to have their thoughts somewhat in it."
"Yes; but Amy, the more our affections are set upon things which are not of this world, the more thoroughly we shall be enabled to do our duty here."
"I am sure my lady, there is no need for anybody to do their duty better than you do; and whichever way your heart is set, it must be the right way;" replied Amy, whose devoted attachment was such that she did not like to hear it implied, even from her lady's own lips, that she was capable of improvement.
"I must not value myself according to your estimate, Amy," replied Lady Nithsdale, smiling, "or I shall be sadly lacking in that first of Christian virtues--humility."
It was not many days after the battle, or, as the Jacobites termed it, the victory, of Sherriff Muir, that vague rumours reached Terreagles of disaster and defeat at Preston.
Lady Nithsdale was struck with the pale countenance of Amy when she had summoned her, ostensibly to assist in arranging some household matters, but more, in fact, that she might hear a friendly voice, and look on an affectionate countenance. She was still more struck with the haste in which Amy wished to depart, instead of gladly lingering, pleased and honoured at being admitted to share the counsels and the feelings of her mistress.
"Think you not, Amy, that these damask hangings will make my lord's apartment look exceedingly handsome? and to my mind the old pictures which adorn his study will show well upon the deep crimson. He will be pleased, when Heaven vouchsafes him a safe return, to find we have been mindful of his comfort. I would gladly turn these hangings to so good account. What think you, Amy?" and Lady Nithsdale gazed inquiringly in her face.
"Yes, madam, in sooth they are as good as new," replied Amy with a hurried voice; and her eye avoided that of her lady: her fingers trembled as she smoothed the fringe, and she kept her head bent low, as though examining the texture of the damask.
"Amy, you have heard ill news that you fear to communicate," said Lady Nithsdale, laying her hand firmly on Amy's trembling arm, and looking at her fixedly. "Speak! I charge you, speak! I can bear anything but suspense. Let me know the worst!" and she grasped her almost convulsively.
"Oh, my lady, do not look thus at me: truly you fright me. In very truth I know nothing, nothing for certain."
"Amy, Amy, this is not like yourself; you are trifling with me!"
"We must not heed every silly report that comes from so far off, my lady."
"Then it is of the army in England!" and Lady Nithsdale dropped into a seat "Speak! speak! tell me all!"
"Indeed I have but little to tell. They said there had been an engagement: but we have often heard that before, my lady; and people make so much of a little thing; and the news comes through Dumfries, and the people there tell everything their own way."
"And they say, then, that we have been defeated!" continued Lady Nithsdale, striving to appear perfectly tranquil. "Tell me, Amy; you see I am quite calm."
"Why, yes; I suppose it is as your ladyship says, for they seem marvellously well pleased."
"And are King James's forces retreating?"
"Not that I know of, my lady."
"What, do they still hold Preston, then?"
"Why no, my lady. I believe what they call the Royalists have possession of it now."
"Then where is our army?"
"Alas! dearest madam, I cannot justly say. Indeed, indeed, my lady, those who told me do not seem to know themselves, and I dare swear it is not half true."
"Amy, you have heard more; I am sure you have! Is my lord----? Have they told you anything? I cannot, cannot ask. Oh, Amy! answer me, and answer the truth, or I think I shall die!"
"Nothing, my lady! They never mentioned my lord's name one way nor another; indeed, indeed they did not."
"Thank Heaven so far!" and Lady Nithsdale closed her eyes for a moment, as if to regain composure and resolution.
"And you know, my lady, ill news travels fast enough, and everybody hereabouts would be curious enough about my lord: so pray set your mind at rest."
Lady Nithsdale looked at Amy with a sad withering smile. "At rest, Amy! at rest!" and pressing her hand upon her bosom, "it is long since this heart has been at rest, and I am much mistaken if it will be so for many a long day yet. If there is any truth in what the people of this country call second-sight, I have much to suffer yet; but I will not despair. I place my reliance above; I will confide in Him who will not abandon the humble, even when all human succours fail."