CHAPTER XVII.

THE SCONCE OF BOITZENBURG.

On the day immediately after the review, Sir Donald, with seven companies of the regiment, was ordered to cross the Elbe, leave two companies at Stade, and march towards the Weser, where he joined the troops of that valiant Welsh veteran, old General Morgan, who with four strong battalions lay above Bremen, watching the Imperialists. King Christian was determined we should suffer in detail, and suffer sorely, for our stubborn pride in the affair of the colours; thus, while the main body of the Danish army occupied Stade, the second city in the duchy of Bremen, our company of M'Farquhars, with the wing of the regiment under the major, marched to Lauenburg, the capital of a duke who there levies a toll upon the Elbe. There the colonel joined us with one company from the Weser, leaving the other four to defend Boitzenburg, for which place Ian was ordered to march the M'Farquhars with all speed, as sergeant-major Dunbar was to be assailed by the Imperialists under the famous Count of Carlstein, who, with Tilly and the main army, was pressing forward, to drive back all the outposts of the Protestant king, to penetrate into Holstein and the Danish isles. On these marches our soldiers behaved with admirable order; there was no marauding, for, though their pay was small, our poor Highlanders were moderate in their desires. Each carried a small havresack filled with Hamburg meal, and a little of that mixed in water, morning and evening, contented them. The ability with which they could endure long abstinence and hard marching, is remarkable; for in the olden time the Celtic huntsman took but one meal in the day--his _diot mhor_. But there was a Lowland pikeman, Dandy Dreghorn, who, being unable to practise such abstinence, found himself impelled to swallow a whole bowl of cream, in a certain dorpe through which we passed; for this he was ordered to run the gauntlet, and that no taint of degradation from the stripes might remain, I was required (according to the custom of war) to wave thrice the ensign of St. Andrew above his head.

It was about the sunset of an evening in the middle of July, 1627, when we approached Boitzenburg, which is a small town of Mecklenburg-shwerin, pleasantly situated at the junction of the Boitze with the Elbe, the passage of which we were to defend against the Imperialists, until the last man of us had kissed the sod, for so were our orders worded.

A vast force under Tilly was approaching Denmark from the centre of Germany, and one of those columns, destined to pass the Elbe and Weser, under the great Count of Carlstein, was marching directly upon the point we were to bar. As the count was determined at all risks to pass the stream, our somewhat forlorn duty was destined to be hard and hazardous; but the affair of the colours still rankled in the mind of King Christian, and he had resolved, and even said to Lord Nithsdale, that "the regiment of Strathnaver should pay dearly for its Scottish pride!"

As we approached the town, which was surrounded by a wall, the gates were shut, and although our comrades who occupied the place knew us right well by our tartans, and the sound of our pipe, which was playing _Beallach na Broige_, according to the custom of war, observed in all forts on the approach of armed parties, they closed their barriers, turned out their guards, and on our halting at a hundred paces distant, sent forward an officer. This cavalier, who proved to be John Learmonth of Balcomie, the senior captain of our pikes, asked, sword in hand--

"What troops are these?"

"M'Farquhar's company of the regiment of Strathnaver, in the service of his Danish majesty," said Ian.

"You may enter, gentlemen," replied Learmonth.

Then we shook hands; the gates were opened, the piper again struck up, and we marched into Boitzenburg, where four hundred of our comrades received us with a true Highland welcome.

Old Dunbar, our sergeant-major, had every qualification for a commander. Well versed in all the theories, as well as the sterner practice of war, he had left nothing undone, that would enable him to defend his post like a man of honour; a soldier by race and name (for he was one of the Dunbars of Dyke, in the lordship of Spynie), to his natural and acquired talents he added a sound judgment, a strong mind, and the bravery of a lion, with the form and the heroism of a Wallace; and withal his disposition was mild and gentle. He issued few orders, but these were always marked by brevity, and obeyed with alacrity; and, as these orders were never unnecessary, they were fulfilled with the most perfect reliance upon his sagacity and courage.

Passing through the town, we crossed the river by a bridge, and took up our quarters in a strong sconce, which Dunbar had erected on the Luneburg side, and which, with the assistance of Captain Learmonth (who acted as his trench-master or engineer), had been flanked out in such a manner that, with twenty pieces of cannon, it swept the river above and below the bridge, the centre of which he had carefully undermined to cover our retreat, in case we should have to retire.

The bastions of this redoubt were of earth, faced up with smooth turf, the embrasures being well splayed out to afford a range for our culverins; the front was high and based with stone, as a pretty deep graff was dug round them, and filled by water from the Elbe. Within these defences were several substantial stone houses, which by good fortune stood there before the war, so that we were very comfortably quartered; and as all the country to the southward had been laid under contribution, we had a good store of bread, beer, bacon, cattle, with fodder for them, not forgetting several kegs of skeidam, and low country wine.

The town of Boitzenburg had been long before abandoned by its inhabitants, who fled with their most valuable effects at the approach of the Imperialists; thus while doors, windows, and floors were to be had for the mere trouble of carrying them away, we had no lack of fuel, and laid up a great store, for the double purpose of supplying ourselves and burning the place, if compelled to abandon it. The evening of the third day was just closing, and the broad, yellow, and lurid sun was shedding his farewell rays along the waveless bosom of the Elbe, on one side throwing into deep shadow the walls of the town, the arches of the bridge, and the ramparts of our redoubt, while the other side was all bathed, as in a deluge of warm light, when one of our sentinels (Gillian M'Bane) fired his musket, and announced the approach of the Imperialists.

The report of that musket made every heart leap. The drum beat hoarse and rapidly! From the desolate town our stragglers hurried into the redoubt; the sluice which fed the wet ditch was opened; the klinket of the palisades was closed and barricaded; the cannon were run back and double shotted; we stood to our arms, hoisted the Danish colours, but placed our own Scottish ensign on the highest parapet, and with the last gleam of sunset saw the enemy debouching heavily in column, among clouds of dust from the Reinsdorf road, and from the green woods and undulations of the fertile country.

With his helmet open, and a grim expression on his bearded face, old Dunbar was observing them closely through his Galileo glass as they poured along--the musketeers, in buff coats and steel caps, marching with matches lighted and their rests slung to their sword-belts, the pikemen well armed in back, breast, and head-pieces, with tassettes to cover their thighs, and the horsemen in complete mail, with swords, calivers and demi-lances; six pieces of cannon, and a howitzer for throwing shells--a new invention of that great warrior, Ernest Count of Mansfeldt, that prince of soldiers of fortune, and champion of the Queen of Bohemia, for in many a bloody field he bore her glove upon his helmet.

"Swords and pikes!" said Dunbar, closing his glass sharply; "there are ten thousand men under yonder blue banner, not a helmet less, and we have here but five hundred true Scottish hearts to make good the sconce against them!"

They halted, but beyond cannon-shot, their infantry remaining in dense column, with the horse on their flanks and the artillery in front; and in a few minutes after we saw an officer, with a white flag displayed from his demi-lance, ride forward, accompanied by a trumpeter, who sounded a parley.

"Ensign Rollo," said Dunbar to me; "you know something of scholar-craft, and speak other tongues than our auld mither Scots, take a stout fellow with you--go forth, and learn what yonder gay galliard requires of us."

Pleased with this opportunity, and proud of the selection among so many men of good birth and acknowledged valour, I summoned Phadrig and Gillian, gave a last look to the clasps of my harness and the locks of my pistols, drew my sword, and leaving the sconce by a private klinket, deliberately approached the Imperialist, who remained on horseback motionless as an iron statue, observing me narrowly between the ears of his horse; for I have little doubt that one part of my garb--the kilt--must have impressed him as being somewhat remarkable.

His own attire was singularly magnificent, even for the service to which he belonged; for there were many of the general officers, such as Count Carlstein, who affected the grandeur of princes, and had frequently a troop of cuirassiers as their guard; while the colonels of the raggamuffin Walloon infantry kept their gilded coaches in camp, and ate and drank out of vessels of silver, some of them having even a secretary, who (as few of them could write) was generally the most useful of their vast train of servants.

His helmet, cuirass, and the tassettes which covered his thighs, were of the brightest steel; the open sleeves of his doublet were cloth of gold, the inner were of crimson velvet; his gloves were of steel, and reached to his elbows; his boots were of black leather, furnished with enormous jinglespurs, having metal balls in lieu of rowels; his long toledo hung in a scarf of crimson and gold interwoven, and from its hilt dangled a sword-knot of gold and _black_ silk.*

* Still worn by the Austrians to commemorate the loss of Jerusalem.

His figure is yet impressed upon my memory.

Tall, handsome, and about forty years of age, his features were stern, grave, and sometimes sad; though, when his eyes became animated, they filled with fire. A deep scar on his forehead shewed that before this he had met death face to face; and there was a frank bluntness in his manner which showed a long familiarity with danger, and with every phase of life.

"Your servant, my young friend," said he, in a strong Scottish accent, and smiling, as we saluted each other with our swords; "if you have forgotten our meeting by the Elbe near Glückstadt, and the pretty actress Prudentia, I have not."

"Pardon me, sir, but I did not recognise you in your helmet. Yet see--in memory of that meeting, I have still worn your gold chain."

"Ah! you must prize it more when I tell you, that it is formed from the gold of that identical cup with which Knox and Calvin so often administered the sacrament to the English refugees at Frankfort. Old Spürrledter, one of my troopers, picked it up on the march through there, and so I had it made into a chain."

"It were a thousand pities to deprive----"

"Tush! I shall soon find another; if you offer it back, I shall fling it into the Elbe."

"You wished to parley with us, sir?"

"The fact is, we are anxious to cross the river, and you have most annoyingly cast up a sconce right in our way; and, as this sconce is garrisoned by five companies of Highlanders, we count upon a desperate resistance."

"You reckon rightly, sir," I replied proudly; "there is a high spirit among my comrades in yonder place. This will be the scene of our first encounter with your Austrians; and I will answer for it, that as Scottish soldiers, with the high memory of a great and glorious past urging us to win new honour for our fatherland, many a heart must pour forth its best blood before either the Counts of Tilly or Carlstein shall cross the Elbe."

At that moment a roll was beaten on a drum within the redoubt.

"Thou art a fine fellow!" said the cavalier of fortune, "and I hope to spend an evening with you over a can of wine, after you are taken prisoner; but your comrades are waxing impatient--tell the sergeant-major, Dunbar----"

"Hah--you know that we are commanded by Dunbar!"

"The bravest man under the Danish flag! I know more; for I am aware that he has but five hundred Highlandmen in the sconce, under the captains M'Farquhar, M'Coll of that Ilk, Learmonth of Balcomie, Munro of Culcraigie, and M'Kenzie of Kildon; for you cannot sneeze on the Danish side of the Elbe but straightway we Imperialists hear of it at Vienna."

"I believe there are spies among us," said I, thinking of the Hausmeister.

"Tell Dunbar that the famous Count of Carlstein--(ah! he is a devil of a fellow, that Count!)--with ten thousand old iron-faces, the flower of Tilly's Austrians and Spaniards, is about to force the passage of the Elbe; that he would gladly, for the sake of Elizabeth Stuart, the Bohemian queen, spare the lives of her countrymen; and that, if they will leave the bridge of Boitzenburg free, they shall have leave to march wherever they please, with all the honours of war."

"Cavalier," I replied, "you may tell the great Count of Carlstein that we could never accept of such terms with honour. Our orders are to defend the banks of the Elbe to the last gasp, and so will we defend it, or die by its shore!"

"Well," said he, as he reined back his horse and sheathed his sword, "on your own heads be the blood that is shed, and you will have but Dunbar to blame for the extermination that awaits you--farewell!"

He galloped off, accompanied by his trumpeter, and I returned to the sconce to make my report to Dunbar.

"Ye hae dune weel, my young birkie," said he; "ah, pikes and pistols! Let them come, and we will show Count Carlstein that we care as little for Austrians as our forefathers did for Rome, despite that lying loon, Hegisippus. Hallo, provant master! serve the lads round wi a quaigh fu' o' brandy; and let us all drink '_Tir nan beann, nan glean, a' nan gnaisgeach!_' (the country of mountains, of valleys, and heroes,) for it may be the last drop many among us will taste in this world, and my mind misgives me that we'll no get muckle in the next. Let the pipers blow fire into our hearts, while Balcomie's company pile their pikes, and stand by the bastions to work the cannon!"