CHAPTER XIII.

THE MARCH FOR ENGLAND.

The neighynge of the war-horse prowde, The rowleinge of the drum; The clangour of the trumpet lowde, Be soundes from heaven that come. Then mount, then mount, brave gallants all, And don your helmes amaine; Death's couriers--fame and honour--call Us to the field againe. SCOTS SONG.

Led by General James Douglas, a brother of the Duke of Queenberry, the Scottish army was to march to London in three columns or divisions. He commanded the foot in person; Major-General Viscount Dundee led the cavalry; the Laird of Lundin the train of artillery.

By grey dawn on the 21st of September, the boom of a cannon pealed from the ramparts of the castle over the city, and echoed among the craigs of Salisbury and the woods of Warrender and Drumsheugh. It was the warning gun; and immediately the varying cadence of the cavalry trumpets sounding _to horse_, and the infantry drums beating the _générale_, an old summons that has often gained the malison of the wearied soldier, rang within the narrow thoroughfares of Edinburgh.

"I thought I heard the General say,-- 'Tis time to rouse, and march away!"

Poor Lilian had passed a restless night; she slept only to dream, and awoke only to weep, and to feel that no tears are more bitter than those shed unseen by lonely sorrow in the solitude of night. Many a young heart was crushed with grief, and many a bright eye sleepless and tearful in anticipation of the morrow's separation, perhaps for ever. Many a fierce and enthusiastic religioso looked forward to the march of his countrymen as a relief from thraldom, and the dawn of a day of vengeance on the upholders of "the Great Beast."

_Now_ that morrow was come, and the ruddy sun arose above the Lammermuirs to shed his morning glory on the woods of russet brown, from the bosky depths of which the lark, the gled, and the eagle were winging their way aloft.

Lilian looked forth from her turret-window, and the very brightness of that beautiful morning, in contrast to the gloom of her thoughts, made her heart feel more sad and lonely. The stern façade of the ancient chateau gleamed in the light of the rising sun, and the few flowers of autumn lifted up their heavy petals as the warm rays absorbed the diamond dew. Hastily and less carefully than usual, the duties of the toilet were dismissed, and deeply the young girl sighed as she braided her auburn hair, for now there was no one whom she cared to please. Bright and cloudless though the morning, to her a gloom seemed to veil everything; but she mastered her grief until Meinie Elshender, her tirewoman, burst into an uncontrollable fit of lamentation over the departure of her light-hearted Hab; upon which Lilian, infected by her sorrow, could no longer restrain herself, and the two girls wept together.

"Oh, Lady Lilian, another hour will see our braw lads owre the hills and awa! Hech-how!" sobbed the disconsolate bower-maiden, "I am glad that muckle tyke, Tam o' the Riggs, is no gaun too. I'll be sure o' him gif puir Hab's shot by the Hollanders. Eh, sirs, that ever I should see this day!" and she sobbed comfortably between sorrow and satisfaction.

"Oh that Annie of Maxwelton would come!" said Lilian; "she is ever so lighthearted, so joyous and gay--her presence were a godsend. Poor Annie! another week would have seen her wedding-day, and now her Douglas must follow Dunbarton to battle--perhaps to death."

"Yonder are her chairmen," replied Meinie as a sedan appeared in the avenue; "and my Lady Dunbarton's English coach, and Madam this and my Lady that--ewhow, Sirs! we'll hae a fu' hall to-day."

Numerous vehicles were seen approaching. The troops were to march southward by the Burghmuir, and many ladies of rank and fashion were arriving, to behold their departure from a platform erected within the orchard-wall of Bruntisfield, and overlooking the rough old quarries and deep marshy ground that bordered the Burghloch. Lilian flew down to the barbican, and embraced her friend. Though as gaily attired as usual, Annie was very pale, and the breeze of the morning when it lifted her heavy locks, shewed the pallor of the beautiful cheek below. Her innocent gaiety and coquetry had fled together; her spirit had evaporated, and tearful and sad, she sorrowfully kissed her paler friend.

The orchard was higher than the roadway, which its wall overlooked like a rampart, and there numerous highbacked chairs were placed for the convenience of the ladies, who were every moment arriving, each in a greater state of flutter and excitement than the last, to view the troops on their line of march. Various pieces of tapestry were spread over the parapet, and an ancient standard or two, and several branches of laurel tastefully arranged by the gardener, made the orchard-wall like a balcony at a listed tournament.

Lady Grisel was merry and grave by turns, but always stately and hospitable. With her the day had long since passed, when the march of a mailed host could raise other sensations in her bosom than those of pity for the young and brave who might return no more. The beautiful Countess of Dunbarton veiled her anxiety under an admirable placidity of face and suavity of manner; while Lilian, Annie Laurie and many other fair girls who had lovers and relations "under harness" were clustered together, a pale and tearful group that conversed in low whispers.

The moss-grown trees of the ancient orchard spread their faded foliage over them; behind rose the striking outline of the old manor-house, with its round projecting turrets and high-peaked gables glowing in the early rays of the sun, which streamed redly and aslant from the southern ridge of Arthur's Seat, lighting with a golden gleam the mirrored lake that rolled almost to the orchard wall. A light shower had fallen just before dawn, and everything was brightened and refreshed. The dew yet glittered on the waving branches and the bending grass, and white as snow the morning mists rolled heavily around the base of the verdant hills, or curled, in a thousand vapoury and beautiful forms, in the saffron glory of the rising sun. The dewy autumnal breeze was laden with balm and fragrance. The first fallen leaves rustled in the long grass; the corbies and wood-pigeons were wheeling aloft, and the swan and the heron floated on the still bosom of the loch.

Bright though the morning, and beautiful the scenery, the group assembled near Bruntisfield were thoughtful and reserved; any little chit-chat in which they had indulged while Lady Grisel was detailing the Duke of Hamilton's march for England in her younger days, died away, when the far-off notes of military music and the increasing hum in the city, announced that "they were coming."

"Hark!" said Lady Dunbarton, "now they are approaching. 'Tis by Lord Dundee's advice they march through the entire length of the city, from the Girth Cross to the Portsburgh, that their array may intimidate the false Whigs, who are hourly crowding in from all quarters."

Beneath where the ladies were seated, the roadway was thronged with cottars from the adjacent hamlets; and many an eye was turned wistfully to the road that wound by the western rhinns of the Loch towards the old baronial manor of the Lawsons, that on the Highriggs, as before mentioned, terminated the ancient suburb of Portsburgh. From thence a dense mass was seen debouching: the sound of the drum, and the sharper note of the trumpet, were heard at intervals, while pikes glittered, banners waved, and hoofs rang, and every heart beat quicker as the troops approached; for, even in our own matter-of-fact age, there are few sights more stirring than the departure of a regiment for foreign service; but then it was the entire regular force of the kingdom en masse on the march for another land. Dense crowds occupied the whole roadway; for though the Scottish government had few friends, all the idlers of the city were pouring forth from its southern gates.

England was still a foreign and rather hostile country, and London was "an unco and far-awa place" (much more so than Calcutta is now); and persons on their departure therefor received the condolences of their friends; on their return, were welcomed by joy and congratulation, and were regarded with wonder and interest like the ancient mariners who had doubled Cape Non. And thus the Edinburghers, according to their various hopes, fears, hates and wishes, regarded with unusual anxiety the departure of their countrymen.

Save our brave Highlanders, fifty-seven years afterwards, this was the last Scottish host that ever marched into England.

First came an advanced guard of Horse Grenadiers, who wore scarlet coats over their steel corslets, and had high fur caps; they were armed with long musquets, bayonets, and hammer-hatchets, and wore grenado-pouches on their left side, to balance the cartridge-boxes on the right.

Led by the Laird of Lundin, Master of the Ordnance, next came the train of artillery, with trumpets sounding and kettle-drums beating; the matrosses marching with shouldered pikes on each side of the polished brass cannon; the firemasters on horseback, distinguished by waving plumes and golden scarfs. Nearly sheathed in complete armour of Charles the First's time, four gentlemen-of-the-cannon rode on each side of the great flag gun, which was drawn by eight horses. The Scottish standards--one with St. Andrew's Cross, the other with the Lion, gules--were displayed from its carriage, on which sat two little kettle-drummers beating a march. It was followed by the gins, capstans, forge-waggons, and a troop of horse with their swords drawn.

Then the column of cavalry filed past; all fierce and select cavalier troopers, many of them inured to service by the civil wars of eight-and-twenty years. Claverhouse's Life Guardsmen, in their polished plate-armour, wearing white horse hair streaming from their helmets;--all were splendidly mounted, and rode with the butts of their carbines resting on their thighs. They were greeted by a burst of acclamation from the ladies, for these dashing horsemen were the Guardi Nobili, the Prætorian Band of Scotland. Douglas's regiment of Red-coat Horse, and the Earl of Dunmore's Dragoons, the Scots Greys in their janissary caps, buff coats, and iron panoply, brought up the rear.

Next came the infantry; the two battalions of the Fusilier Guards, clad in coats, breeches, and stockings, all of bright scarlet, with white scarfs and long feathers; the officers marching with half pikes, and the soldiers with lighted matches; the battalions of the Scots Musqueteers in their round morions and corslets of black iron; the Earl of Mar's Fusiliers, Wauchop's regiment, &c. &c., poured past in rapid and monotonous succession, till the rear-guard of Horse and a few pieces of artillery, with a long line of sumpter-horses, bidets, and peddies, or grooms, closed the rear.

From a cloudless sky, full upon their long line of march, the bright sun poured down his morning splendour; the blare of the brazen trumpet and the ringing bugle-horn, the clashing cymbal and the measured beat of the drum, rang in the echoing sky and adjacent woodlands; while, like the ceaseless rush of a river, the tread of many marching feet, the tramp of the horses, the clank of chain-bridles, steel scabbards, and bandoliers, the lumbering roll of the brass cannon and shot-tumbrils of the train, filled up the intervals of the air which all their bands were playing,--the famous old Scots' March, composed for the Guard of King James V.

Never before had Walter Fenton felt such exultation, or so proud of the banner that waved over his shoulder; and his heart seemed to bound to every crash of the martial music that loaded the morning wind. It is impossible to pourtray the glow of chivalry that stirs a heart like his at such a time.

Amid the dust of the long array in front, the innumerable bright points of armour, and accoutrements, and weapons, were sparkling and flashing, and, when viewed from the distant city, the host of horse and foot, with standards waving, resembled a vast gilded snake sweeping over the Burghmuir, and gliding between its old oak trees and broomy knolls towards the hills of Braid. It was a scene which no man could behold without ardour and admiration, or without that gush of enthusiasm which stirs even the most sluggish spirit--

"When hearts are all high beating, And the trumpet's voice repeating That song whose breath May lead to death, But never to retreating."

"Ah! Douglas," said Walter to his friend, "I feel that all the romance of my boyish dreams is about to be realized. My breast seems too narrow for the emotions that glow within it. Love----"

"Yes, Fenton, _it_ is the most powerful of all human passions; but a desire for military glory is scarcely less strong. Yet, bethink thee, Fenton, how sadly an old veteran's memory retraces the ardour of such an hour as this."

"To me it almost counterbalances the pain of parting from yonder dear girl;" and, while speaking, he bowed repeatedly to Lilian and kissed his hand, for they were now beneath the orchard-wall. Long and sad was the glance he gave that fair face, every feature of which was indelibly impressed on his heart. Her vivacity was gone, and her cheek pale; her heart was wrung with anguish, though it fluttered with the excitement around her. Even the gay Annie was unusually grave, and her dark blue eyes were humid with the heavy tears that trembled on their long black lashes.

"Farewell, Annie," said Douglas, looking up to her with intense feeling. "Farewell, my love. 'Horse and spear' is the slogan now."

The aspect of Dunbarton's Royals elicited a burst of applause, and the ladies threw flowers among their passing ranks. That surpassing state of discipline and steadiness which they had acquired under the great De Martinet (that phoenix of adjutants and paragon of drills) whose fame is known throughout all the armies of Europe, had not passed away.

From the richness of their accoutrements, they seemed one mass of vivid scarlet and polished steel. The musqueteers and pikemen (every corps had still a proportion armed with that ancient weapon) wore a close round morion of iron with cheek-plates clasped under the chin: those of the officers were of burnished steel, surmounted by dancing plumes of white ostrich feathers. The cuirasses and gorgets of the captains were of the colour of gold; the lieutenants' were of black, studded with gold; and those of the ensigns were of silver,--and all had embroidered sword-belts and crimson scarfs with golden tassels. The corslets of the soldiers were of black iron, crossed by their collars of bandoliers, little wooden cases, each containing a charge of powder; the balls were carried loose in a pouch on the left side, balanced by a priming-horn on the right. Their scarlet coats were heavily cuffed and richly braided, and each was armed with a sword in addition to his bright-barrelled matchlock. With tall fur caps, and coats slashed and looped, led by Gavin of that ilk, their grenadiers marched in front, with hammer-hatchets, slung carbines, swords, daggers, and pouches of grenades. Such was the aspect of the regular Scottish infantry of that period; and certainly it was not a little imposing.*

* Royal Orders of the day.

At the head of his regiment rode the brave Earl of Dunbarton, with the curious mask or visor (then appended to the helmet) turned upward, revealing his dark and noble features; his coat of scarlet, richly laced, was worn open to display his corslet of bright steel, which was inlaid with gold. The military wig escaped from beneath the plumed headpiece, and flowed in long curls over his shoulders; and he rode with his baton rested on the top of his long jack-boot. Still more gaily armed and accoutred, the handsome Viscount of Dundee rode on his left; and on the right, the dark-visaged and sinister-eyed James Douglas of Queensberry, the general commanding, managed a spirited black charger; and on passing the ladies, the three cavalier leaders bowed until their plumes mingled with their horses' manes.

The venerable Sir Thomas Dalyel, attired in his antique buff coat, steel cap, and long boots, and with his preposterous white beard streaming in the wind, galloped up, baton in hand, to pay his devoirs to Lady Grisel and her visitors--making, as he reined up, such a reverence as might have been fashionable at the court of His Ferocity the Czar of Muscovy. A crowd of tenants and cottars who loitered near, shrank back with ill-disguised fear and aversion as the "auld persecutor" approached.

"A fearfu' man, whose face is an index o' his heart," muttered Elsie Elshender, shaking her clenched hand at him behind Meinie's back. "'Tis just such a beard the warlocks and the deil have on, when they meet the witches at their sabbath on the Calton." As she spoke, the keen stern eye of the veteran cavalier chanced to fall full upon her, and the old woman trembled lest he might divine her thoughts, if he had not overheard her words--so great was the terror entertained of his real and imaginary powers.

"Ye say true, Cummer Elsie," whispered Symon, the ground baillie, a grim old fellow, clad in hoddin grey, wearing his Sunday bonnet and plaid, a staff in his hand, and a broadsword at his side. "He hath the mark of the beast on his frontlet. Hah! I have seen as muckle bravery displayed in the moss o' Drumclog, but the cheer of the oppressor was changed ere the gloaming fell. But better times are coming, Elsie; better days are coming, and then sall 'the children of Zion be joyful in their king.'"

Sir Thomas Dalyel, who

"Like Claver'se fell chiel, Was in league wi' the deil,"

and had of course been rendered bullet-proof in consequence of this infernal compact, from his style of conversation was ill calculated to soothe the anxious fears of those he addressed.

"How, Sir Thomas?" said Lady Grisel Napier, "I knew not that you were boune for England."

"Nor am I, please you, madam," replied the old cavalier, standing in his stirrups, erect as a pike. "I am getting owre auld in the horn now. Eighty years, saxty of whilk were spent under harness, are beginning to tell sairly on me at last; and that frosty auld carle, Time, hath whispered long that my marching days are weel nigh over. But, please God, I may die in my buff coat yet, gif the tide of war rolls northward. I would fain see a few more blows exchanged on Scottish turf before I am laid below it."

"I marvel not, Sir Thomas," said the gentle young Countess of Dunbarton, "that the sight of these passing bands rouses your nobler spirit, when I, who am so timid, feel myself inspired with a false ardour and courage."

"Most noble ladies, the heart would indeed be a cauld one, that felt nae fire in sic an hour as this. By my faith, even my auld troop-horse, grey Marston, kittles up his lugs at the fanfare o' the trumpet, like a Don Cossacque at the cry of plunder. Puir Marston," he added, patting the neck of his charger, "I fear our fighting days are now gone by, unless the Dutch rapscallions come north, whilk may God direct, that auld Tammas o' the Binns may strike three strokes on steel for Scotland and his king, ere this baton is laid on his coffin-lid. 'Tis a brave sight, ladies, and Douglas hath under his banner some brave lads as ever marched to battle or breach. But I like not this new invention, whilk is callit the bayonet, preferring the good old Sweyn's feather, which repels the heaviest brigade of horse like a stane dyke.

"Lady Grisel, I heard you speak just now of the Mareschal-General Lesly. He was a d----d auld round-headed cur, and his brigades of sour blue-bonnets were no more to be compared to our lads that marched to Worcester, than eggshells are to cannon-balls. But had you seen the Muscovite host on the march for Samoieda, in that year when we beleaguered and sacked and overran the whole shores of the Frozen Ocean, ye would have seen marching to their last campaigns some of the prettiest cavaliers that ever ate horse-flesh or slashed the head off a Tartar. Now, God's murrain on the southern clodpoles!" began Sir Thomas, commencing some fierce tirade against the English, for he was a Scot of the oldest school.

"Fie, Knight of Binns!" said Annie Laurie; "you forget that my Lady Dunbarton is south-land bred."

"Sweet mistress, I crave pardon of her gentleness. But I am owre auld to pick my words now. I say as my fathers have said; I think as my fathers have thocht."

"Your servant, Sir Thomas.--Ladies, your humble servant!" said that unconscionable bore, Lord Mersington, who at that moment rode up with Clermistonlee. "Hee, hee, General--seeing your auld friends awa again--'bodin in effeir of weir,' as the acts say?"

"Yea, my Lord. You, too, hae seen some work like this in your time."

"Ay. At Dunbar I rode in the troop of the College of Justice, and exchanged the judge's wig for the troopers morion; ye ken, when drums beat, laws are dumb."

"Then Heaven send they may beat for ever and aye. A bonnie like troop o' auld carlins your Lordship's Justiciars were, and merrily we stark cavaliers of the French and Swedish wars laughed when Monk's regiment of foot, whilk are now denominate the Coldstreamers, routed ye like sae mony schule bairns."

"Under favour, Sir Thomas, I hold that to be leasing-making, hee, hee! and though we laugh owre it now as auld gossips, I mind the day when blades had been drawn on it."

Clermistonlee, while endeavouring with equal skill and grace to curb his restive horse, fixed his dark gloating eyes on Lilian Napier, and gave her a profound bow; but, well aware of what his intentions had long been towards her, instead of acknowledging it, she coldly turned away, and took the arm of Annie Laurie. She was too gentle to glance disdainfully, but an indignant blush crimsoned her cheek, and she withdrew to another part of the parapet. Clermistonlee bit his proud lip with vexation; but the fierce gleam of his dark eye passed unobserved by all save Juden, who, like his shadow, was never far off.

"My Lord Clermistonlee, we will hae but a toom toun now, when our brave bucks and braw fellows have a' marched southward," said Dalyel.

"Many a fair damsel sees her stout leman for the last time," replied his Lordship, with a soft smile at Lilian; "but keep bold hearts, fair ladies--there are as handsome fellows left behind as any that march under the baton of James Douglas."

"As gude fish in the sea as e'er cam' out o' t, hee, hee!"

"True," retorted Annie Laurie; "but such gay fellows as your Lordships are too economical of their persons to suit the taste of a bold border lass."

"Indeed, Mistress Laurie! But according to love _à la mode_, one leman is quite the same as another."

"Whilk," said Sir Thomas Dalyel, with a deep laugh, interrupting a sharp retort of Annie's, "whilk were the very words a certain Muscovite damsel sain to me, after her husband's head had been chopped off by the ungracious Tartars. I construed it into a hint that I was to occupy his place, and I was but owre happy, for 'tis a cold country, the land of the Russ and----but, dags and pistols! here cometh the rear-guard already! and as there are some lads marching owre yonder brae, with whom I would fain confer for the last time, I must crave your Ladyship's pardon, with leave to follow the line of route."

Erect in his stirrups, with toes pointed upwards and baton depressed, the old cavalier made a profound obeisance, and notwithstanding his great age dashed at full gallop through the crowd, amidst an ill-repressed shout of hatred and execration from amongst it.

"An auld ill-faured persecuting devil!" said Elsie Elshender, shaking her withered hand after him; "a tormentor o' God's worthiest servants, a Cain among the sons o' men--a fearfu' tyrant, and suited to fearfu' times. Gude keep us! look at the doken blade he spat on; there is a hole brunt clean through it."

"His horse's hoofs mak' runnin' water boil," added Syme the Baillie's wife in a low voice.

"Silence, Cummers!" said Juden Stenton; "or you'll hae the steel jougs locked round your jaws the morn, and may be get a het tar-barrelling after for speaking sae freely o' your betters."

Sir Thomas reined up alongside of the three generals, whom for several miles he bored with musty maxims, obsolete tactics, and strange advice, anent the superiority of Sweyn's feathers over the screwed dagger (or bayonet), and furiously condemned the slinging of carbines in budgets in lieu of shoulderbelts, as in the days of Montrose--expatiated on the method of forming square with the grenadiers covering the angles, and making the bringers-up (or third rank) entirely of musqueteers. He particularly impressed upon General Douglas the method of posting musqueteers among the horse and dragoons in alternate regiments--a tactique of that Star of the North, the great Gustavus of Sweden, and used by Prince Rupert at Long Marstonmoor--and after a fierce tirade against Sir James Wemys's leather cannon for field service, and a few words about the Muscovites, this veteran soldier of fortune bade them adieu near the Balm Well of St. Catherine, which lay yet a ruin, just as Cromwell's puritans had left it thirty-eight years before, when 16,000 of them encamped on the Gallaehlawhill. There Dalyel parted with "bluidy Dunbarton, Douglas, and Dundee," never to meet again; for though he saw it not, the hand of death was already stretched over the venerable "persecutor" and exile--war, wounds, and death were the portion of the others.

Long, long remained the fair young Countess watching the glittering columns as they wound over the Burghmuir, and ascended the hills of Braid, and until the faintest tap of the drums died away on the wind, and the helmets of the rearguard flashed a farewell ray in the evening sun, as they disappeared over the distant hills.

Then the grief of Lilian could no longer be restrained, for a heavy sense of utter desolation fell upon her heart.

"Oh, Annie, Annie!" she exclaimed, and throwing herself upon the bosom of friend, burst into a passion of tears.

The bustle, the glitter, and the music all combined, had caused an unnatural degree of excitement, and had sustained their spirits while the troops were pouring past, enabling them to behold with calmness a thousand tender partings. All now were away--silence and stillness succeeded--the excitement had evaporated, and they experienced an unnerving reaction which rendered them miserable, and they wept without restraint for the lovers that had left them--perhaps for ever.