Adam Hepburn's Vow: A Tale of Kirk and Covenant

  *CHAPTER XX.*

  *DRUMCLOG.*

  All the following day, David Hackstoun of Rathillet was anxiouslyexpected by his brethren in arms, in the vale of Avondale. And whennight closed, and there were yet no signs of him, they began to tremblelest some evil had befallen him. Early upon the second morning,however, when that good man and faithful supporter of the Covenanters,Gideon Dickson, the farmer of Windyedge, was leading out his horses asusual to water, he beheld a horseman coming, but slowly and dejectedly,up the road. He at once ran into the house, awakened his distinguishedguests, who speedily dressed and got out of doors, just as the horsemanrode into the yard.

  "David Hackstoun! verily, glad am I to behold your face," said Balfour,advancing to meet him. "We feared, and not without cause, that yourunwise delay had cost you dear."

  "It was like to be my end," answered Rathillet, with a faint smile, andhe was so weary that they had to assist him to alight; then he verycordially greeted Sir Robert Hamilton, with whom he had some slight andvery agreeable acquaintance.

  "I had a desperate ride, especially betwixt Stirling and Avondale," hesaid, in answer to their inquiries. "There is a price of 10,000 marksupon my head, and you can readily imagine that there are many greedyvultures on my track. But, truly, I think that as yet the direction ofmy flight is not known."

  "Is there no price upon my head also?" queried Balfour.

  "Yes, we are accounted equal prey, but the proclamation is so wordedthat the rewards fall to whoever shall lay hands on any one of those whowere present at or took part in Sharp's assassination," returnedRathillet. "But, come, tell me how is it you are abiding in suchapparent ease here? I thought it would have been unsafe to shelterunder any man's roof-tree."

  "So it is, but this is a very remote place, and difficult of access, andthere are many ways of escape from it," returned Sir Robert Hamilton."And our brethren in arms are not far distant."

  "Ah well, very gladly will I rest awhile with you, for I am as sorespent as ever man was," said Hackstoun. "And never did I expect toreach this place alive. The last place I ventured to ask concerning youwas a little moorland shieling, where a woman was dwelling alone. Shetold me her husband was with the army, and that she was makingpreparations to retire to her kinsfolk in Hamilton, being in dailyterror of a visit from the dragoons, who had shot her sister not manyweeks ago, when she was returning from a preaching."

  At that moment the mistress of the house, a kindly and hospitable dame,appeared, and bade them come in, as breakfast was prepared on the table.She looked compassionately at the worn and weather-beaten appearance ofthe new comer, and hastened to get him some cool water from the spring,in which to lave his dusty face and hands. Very grateful were all thesecomforts to the weary fugitive, and, after heartily partaking of thegood dame's fare, he lay down to snatch a few hours' much-needed rest.Later in the day Sir Robert Hamilton and he, after long and earnestdiscussion, set themselves to compile a declaration, which it was theirintention to publish on the day of the king's restoration. On the 28thof May, the day before the celebration, eighty men were chosen fromamong the ranks of the Covenanters, and with Sir Robert Hamilton attheir head marched westwards to Glasgow. Andrew Gray and Adam Hepburnwere of the number, and the expedition was much to their liking, but theminister of Broomhill remained behind with the forces, as did Balfourand David Hackstoun, for great risk attended their appearance, seeing sohigh a price was on their heads. About noon, on the 29th, Sir RobertHamilton's band rode into the burgh of Rutherglen, where a greatsemblance of rejoicing was going on over the anniversary of the king'srestoration. Many of the people merely took part in the proceedingsthrough fear of the consequence, if they refused, but when thePresbyterians rode so boldly into the town, they took heart, and at oncerevealed their true principles, by heartily approving and taking part intheir proceedings. The little company gathered about the ancient cross,and after burning in the very bonfire which had been kindled in honourof the king, all the Acts he had issued against the Covenanters, SirRobert Hamilton published to all those gathered together, thedeclaration which Rathillet and he had drawn up against the Government.They then proceeded to extinguish the bonfires, and sweep away alloutward tokens of rejoicing with a fearless boldness, which surprisedthe trembling burghers of Rutherglen not a little.

  They then rode away by the route they had come, but the day now beingfar spent, several of them proposed to remain over night in Hamilton,calculating that next day, being Saturday, they would have ample time toreturn to Loudon hill in time for the Conventicle on the Sabbath. Theywere divided, however and the more prudent among them judging that thetroops would speedily follow up to avenge the insult to the king,elected not to halt until they rejoined the army. Fifteen of the bolderspirits held on to Hamilton, and sought quarters there, but at day-breakthey were hastily roused, and informed that Claverhouse, with his troopin pursuit of them, was close upon the town, and was in a great rage,swearing that not a man of them would escape with his life.

  By the time they were accoutred and ready to march, the pursuers hadentered the town, but the fugitives escaped by another road, and soobtained a little advantage.

  In Hamilton Claverhouse learned of the field meeting to be held thefollowing day at Loudon hill, whereat he chuckled with delight, for thedispersion of a conventicle was work after his own heart.

  Fair, calm, and sweet broke that summer Sabbath morning over thebeautiful vale of Avondale. The watchers stationed on the hill topssince daybreak could see no sign of the approaching foe, and it was withuntroubled and reverently thankful hearts that the faithful people cameflocking to hear the preaching of that precious Word, for which allthese dangers and anxieties were cheerfully endured. It was a strange,striking, and very pathetic scene, to look upon that gathering of simplecountry folk, denied the privilege of hearing the pure Gospel preachedin its simplicity within the walls of their own kirks, reverentlyassembled to worship the God of their fathers in a tabernacle of whichmen could not rob them, even the green slopes of their dear nativehills.

  The inner circle was composed of women and children, and those among theolder men not so well able to defend themselves. Below that was a ringof stout country men, armed with halberds, forks, and other weapons,which they had hitherto used in more peaceable pursuits; while beyondthese again was a band of sturdy, well-armed foot-soldiers, finallyencompassed by a party of horse. Sir Robert Hamilton, calm, dignified,and self-possessed, sat erect upon his steed, ready at a moment's noticeto take command of the little army, while near to him sat DavidHackstoun, his fine face wearing an expression of deep and heavenlyserenity, which told how passing sweet to his soul was this hour ofcommuning with his God. Side by side, on a rocky ledge, sat Balfour ofKinloch, and Adam Hepburn of Rowallan, and, I fear me, their hearts wereoccupied by far other thoughts than the reverent worship of the God ofthe Covenant. Yet their outward demeanour was decorous enough. Therewere also several ministers present.

  After the singing of a psalm David Gray led the devotions of theassembly, and as his beautiful and appropriate petitions, the deepbreathing of his own pure and reverent soul, fell from his lips, tearsrolled down the faces of many present, and more than one voice ferventlyre-echoed his amen.

  The reverend Mr. Douglas, who was to preach the sermon, gave out histext, and had but newly addressed himself to his subject, when acarabine shot was fired from the hill-top, a warning salute which hadbeen agreed upon before the service commenced.

  They were speedily informed that Claverhouse, with a considerable bodyof dragoons, was rapidly approaching. Without the faintest sign ofconfusion, or any exhibition of terror, the little army preparedthemselves for battle.

  Sir Robert Hamilton took the command, and was assisted by Balfour andRathillet, as also by some other gentlemen of rank, present on thefield.

  To their joy they beheld the enemy advancing towards the morass, whichwould prove a very considerable barri
er in their way. Had Claverhousebeen familiarly acquainted with the nature of a Scottish morass, or bog,as the country folk term it, he would without doubt have rather taken amore circuitous route to avoid it. The Covenanters stood perfectlystill until the dragoons were well into the moss, then singing thefavourite seventy-sixth psalm, to the familiar strains of "Martyrs,"they steadfastly advanced to engage the foe in conflict. Those leftbehind prostrated themselves in prayer to the God of Heaven,supplicating victory for the blue banner of the Covenant, waving in thelight summer breeze, its white letters, "For Christ's Cause andCovenant," made resplendent by the brilliance of the summer sun. Thefirst volley fired by the Covenanters emptied many a saddle inClaverhouse's ranks, and without giving them time to rally, the bravelittle band plunged into the morass, and then began a terriblehand-to-hand conflict, which must ensure either complete victory ortotal defeat.

  Sir Robert Hamilton kept to his horse, encouraging his men with hiscalm, cheerful demeanour, as well as by his steadfast words. As was tobe expected, Adam Hepburn fought with desperate valour, and causedBalfour to regard him anew with a peculiar interest. After a brief, butterrible struggle, Claverhouse, seeing the field was utterly lost,hastily retreated with the exhausted remnant of his troops, narrowlyescaping with his own life.

  Many dead and wounded lay in the morass, but the Covenantersmiraculously lost only one man, while five were wounded.

  With thankful and triumphant hearts they prepared to return to the baseof the hill.

  Balfour of Kinloch, finding himself near Adam Hepburn, as they turned togo, touched his arm and said, in his brief fashion, "What is it in you,Adam Hepburn, which makes you fight like Lucifer himself? Where did youget that desperate courage?"

  Adam Hepburn stooped to wipe his reeking sword upon the alreadyblood-stained heather, and after a brief pause made answer, grimly:

  "Thirteen years ago, Mr. Balfour, I had a wife, who was to me the veryapple of my eye. She was my one ewe lamb, all I had upon the earth, andin my absence they murdered her, shot her down in cold blood upon thethreshold of the home whose light she was. I came home to find herdying, and I swore over her dead body that this sword should not besuffered to return to its sheath until it had sucked the life blood ofas many dragoons as there were years upon her head."

  Balfour, though void of any touch of sentiment, stranger as he was tothe finer feelings of human nature, felt himself deeply moved as helistened to these hoarse, low-spoken words, and saw the terrible gleamin the flashing eye of Adam Hepburn. "Ay, how old was she?" he asked,curtly.

  "Eight-and-twenty years had passed over her head; for the fifth part ofthat time she had blessed my life," returned Adam Hepburn, drawing hishand across his brow, which was wet with the sweat of the conflict."Yes, eight-and-twenty years! Seven miscreants did this right arm sendto their account not twelve months after, on the field of Rullion Green.Other four have I encountered in single combat, surprising them when Iwas in hiding in the vale of Inverburn, and always escaping miraculouslywith my life."

  "And to-day?" queried Balfour, curiously, much struck by his companion'swords.

  "Nine fell before me in the fight this day," said Adam, with fierceexultation. "Ay, my good and trusty blade, eight times yet hast thou topenetrate the breast of the foe, and then, perchance, thy lastresting-place shall be found in the heart of thy poor master himself."

  "She must have been a woman above the average, Adam Hepburn, that youshould thus dedicate your life to the shrine of her revenge," saidBalfour, musingly.

  "She was--but there, what need is there for me to say more; was she notmy _wife_?" said Adam Hepburn. Then, as if tired of the conversation,he abruptly turned away, and fell to the rear of the army.

  They now returned to the base of the hill, where they were warmlywelcomed by those who had so anxiously watched the fray from afar,alternately hoping and fearing, and never ceasing in their prayers.

  A devout and reverent thanksgiving service was then held, and those whohad attended the Conventicle afterwards returned to their homes, withtheir faith strengthened, and their hearts much encouraged by thefavourable events of the day.