CHAPTER V.
The King hath drawn The special head of all the land together. Henry IV. Part II.
The leaders of the presbyterian army had a serious consultation upon theevening of the day in which they had made the attack on Tillietudlem.They could not but observe that their followers were disheartened by theloss which they had sustained, and which, as usual in such cases, hadfallen upon the bravest and most forward. It was to be feared, that ifthey were suffered to exhaust their zeal and efforts in an object sosecondary as the capture of this petty fort, their numbers would meltaway by degrees, and they would lose all the advantages arising out ofthe present unprepared state of the government. Moved by these arguments,it was agreed that the main body of the army should march againstGlasgow, and dislodge the soldiers who were lying in that town. Thecouncil nominated Henry Morton, with others, to this last service, andappointed Burley to the command of a chosen body of five hundred men, whowere to remain behind, for the purpose of blockading the Tower ofTillietudlem. Morton testified the greatest repugnance to thisarrangement.
"He had the strongest personal motives," he said, "for desiring to remainnear Tillietudlem; and if the management of the siege were committed tohim, he had little doubt but that he would bring it to such anaccommodation, as, without being rigorous to the besieged, would fullyanswer the purpose of the besiegers."
Burley readily guessed the cause of his young colleague's reluctance tomove with the army; for, interested as he was in appreciating thecharacters with whom he had to deal, he had contrived, through thesimplicity of Cuddie, and the enthusiasm of old Mause, to get muchinformation concerning Morton's relations with the family ofTillietudlem. He therefore took the advantage of Poundtext's arising tospeak to business, as he said, for some short space of time, (whichBurley rightly interpreted to mean an hour at the very least), and seizedthat moment to withdraw Morton from the hearing of their colleagues, andto hold the following argument with him:
"Thou art unwise, Henry Morton, to desire to sacrifice this holy cause tothy friendship for an uncircumcised Philistine, or thy lust for aMoabitish woman."
"I neither understand your meaning, Mr Balfour, nor relish yourallusions," replied Morton, indignantly; "and I know no reason you haveto bring so gross a charge, or to use such uncivil language."
"Confess, however, the truth," said Balfour, "and own that there arethose within yon dark Tower, over whom thou wouldst rather be watchinglike a mother over her little ones, than thou wouldst bear the banner ofthe Church of Scotland over the necks of her enemies."
"If you mean, that I would willingly terminate this war without anybloody victory, and that I am more anxious to do this than to acquire anypersonal fame or power, you may be," replied Morton, "perfectly right."
"And not wholly wrong," answered Burley, "in deeming that thou wouldstnot exclude from so general a pacification thy friends in the garrison ofTillietudlem."
"Certainly," replied Morton; "I am too much obliged to Major Bellendennot to wish to be of service to him, as far as the interest of the causeI have espoused will permit. I never made a secret of my regard for him."
"I am aware of that," said Burley; "but, if thou hadst concealed it, Ishould, nevertheless, have found out thy riddle. Now, hearken to mywords. This Miles Bellenden hath means to subsist his garrison for amonth."
"This is not the case," answered Morton; "we know his stores are hardlyequal to a week's consumption."
"Ay, but," continued Burley, "I have since had proof, of the strongestnature, that such a report was spread in the garrison by that wily andgrey-headed malignant, partly to prevail on the soldiers to submit to adiminution of their daily food, partly to detain us before the walls ofhis fortress until the sword should be whetted to smite and destroy us."
"And why was not the evidence of this laid before the council of war?"said Morton.
"To what purpose?" said Balfour. "Why need we undeceive Kettledrummle,Macbriar, Poundtext, and Langcale, upon such a point? Thyself must own,that whatever is told to them escapes to the host out of the mouth of thepreachers at their next holding-forth. They are already discouraged bythe thoughts of lying before the fort a week. What would be theconsequence were they ordered to prepare for the leaguer of a month?"
"But why conceal it, then, from me? or why tell it me now? and, aboveall, what proofs have you got of the fact?" continued Morton.
"There are many proofs," replied Burley; and he put into his hands anumber of requisitions sent forth by Major Bellenden, with receipts onthe back to various proprietors, for cattle, corn, meal, to such anamount, that the sum total seemed to exclude the possibility of thegarrison being soon distressed for provisions. But Burley did not informMorton of a fact which he himself knew full well, namely, that most ofthese provisions never reached the garrison, owing to the rapacity of thedragoons sent to collect them, who readily sold to one man what they tookfrom another, and abused the Major's press for stores, pretty much as SirJohn Falstaff did that of the King for men.
"And now," continued Balfour, observing that he had made the desiredimpression, "I have only to say, that I concealed this from thee nolonger than it was concealed from myself, for I have only received thesepapers this morning; and I tell it unto thee now, that thou mayest go onthy way rejoicing, and work the great work willingly at Glasgow, beingassured that no evil can befall thy friends in the malignant party, sincetheir fort is abundantly victualled, and I possess not numbers sufficientto do more against them than to prevent their sallying forth."
"And why," continued Morton, who felt an inexpressible reluctance toacquiesce in Balfour's reasoning--"why not permit me to remain in thecommand of this smaller party, and march forward yourself to Glasgow? Itis the more honourable charge."
"And therefore, young man," answered Burley, "have I laboured that itshould be committed to the son of Silas Morton. I am waxing old, and thisgrey head has had enough of honour where it could be gathered by danger.I speak not of the frothy bubble which men call earthly fame, but thehonour belonging to him that doth not the work negligently. But thycareer is yet to run. Thou hast to vindicate the high trust which hasbeen bestowed on thee through my assurance that it was dearlywell-merited. At Loudon-hill thou wert a captive, and at the last assaultit was thy part to fight under cover, whilst I led the more open anddangerous attack; and, shouldst thou now remain before these walls whenthere is active service elsewhere, trust me, that men will say, that theson of Silas Morton hath fallen away from the paths of his father."
Stung by this last observation, to which, as a gentleman and soldier, hecould offer no suitable reply, Morton hastily acquiesced in the proposedarrangement. Yet he was unable to divest himself of certain feelings ofdistrust which he involuntarily attached to the quarter from which hereceived this information.
"Mr Balfour," he said, "let us distinctly understand each other. You havethought it worth your while to bestow particular attention upon myprivate affairs and personal attachments; be so good as to understand,that I am as constant to them as to my political principles. It ispossible, that, during my absence, you may possess the power of soothingor of wounding those feelings. Be assured, that whatever may be theconsequences to the issue of our present adventure, my eternal gratitude,or my persevering resentment, will attend the line of conduct you mayadopt on such an occasion; and, however young and inexperienced I am, Ihave no doubt of finding friends to assist me in expressing my sentimentsin either case."
"If there be a threat implied in that denunciation," replied Burley,coldly and haughtily, "it had better have been spared. I know how tovalue the regard of my friends, and despise, from my soul, the threats ofmy enemies. But I will not take occasion of offence. Whatever happenshere in your absence shall be managed with as much deference to yourwishes, as the duty I owe to a higher power can possibly permit."
With this qualified promise Morton was obliged to rest satisfied.
"Our defeat will
relieve the garrison," said he, internally, "ere theycan be reduced to surrender at discretion; and, in case of victory, Ialready see, from the numbers of the moderate party, that I shall have avoice as powerful as Burley's in determining the use which shall be madeof it."
He therefore followed Balfour to the council, where they foundKettledrummle adding to his lastly a few words of practical application.When these were expended, Morton testified his willingness to accompanythe main body of the army, which was destined to drive the regular troopsfrom Glasgow. His companions in command were named, and the wholereceived a strengthening exhortation from the preachers who were present.Next morning, at break of day, the insurgent army broke up from theirencampment, and marched towards Glasgow.
It is not our intention to detail at length incidents which may be foundin the history of the period. It is sufficient to say, that Claverhouseand Lord Ross, learning the superior force which was directed againstthem, intrenched, or rather barricadoed themselves, in the centre of thecity, where the town-house and old jail were situated, with thedetermination to stand the assault of the insurgents rather than toabandon the capital of the west of Scotland. The presbyterians made theirattack in two bodies, one of which penetrated into the city in the lineof the College and Cathedral Church, while the other marched up theGallowgate, or principal access from the south-east. Both divisions wereled by men of resolution, and behaved with great spirit. But theadvantages of military skill and situation were too great for theirundisciplined valour.
Ross and Claverhouse had carefully disposed parties of their soldiers inhouses, at the heads of the streets, and in the entrances of closes, asthey are called, or lanes, besides those who were intrenched behindbreast-works which reached across the streets. The assailants found theirranks thinned by a fire from invisible opponents, which they had no meansof returning with effect. It was in vain that Morton and other leadersexposed their persons with the utmost gallantry, and endeavoured to bringtheir antagonists to a close action; their followers shrunk from them inevery direction. And yet, though Henry Morton was one of the very last toretire, and exerted himself in bringing up the rear, maintaining order inthe retreat, and checking every attempt which the enemy made to improvethe advantage they had gained by the repulse, he had still themortification to hear many of those in his ranks muttering to each other,that "this came of trusting to latitudinarian boys; and that, had honest,faithful Burley led the attack, as he did that of the barricades ofTillietudlem, the issue would have been as different as might be."
It was with burning resentment that Morton heard these reflections thrownout by the very men who had soonest exhibited signs of discouragement.The unjust reproach, however, had the effect of firing his emulation, andmaking him sensible that, engaged as he was in a perilous cause, it wasabsolutely necessary that he should conquer or die.
"I have no retreat," he said to himself. "All shall allow--even MajorBellenden--even Edith--that in courage, at least, the rebel Morton wasnot inferior to his father."
The condition of the army after the repulse was so undisciplined, and insuch disorganization, that the leaders thought it prudent to draw offsome miles from the city to gain time for reducing them once more intosuch order as they were capable of adopting. Recruits, in the meanwhile,came fast in, more moved by the extreme hardships of their own condition,and encouraged by the advantage obtained at Loudon-hill, than deterred bythe last unfortunate enterprise. Many of these attached themselvesparticularly to Morton's division. He had, however, the mortification tosee that his unpopularity among the more intolerant part of theCovenanters increased rapidly. The prudence beyond his years, which heexhibited in improving the discipline and arrangement of his followers,they termed a trusting in the arm of flesh, and his avowed tolerance forthose of religious sentiments and observances different from his own,obtained him, most unjustly, the nickname of Gallio, who cared for noneof those things. What was worse than these misconceptions, the mob of theinsurgents, always loudest in applause of those who push political orreligious opinions to extremity, and disgusted with such as endeavour toreduce them to the yoke of discipline, preferred avowedly the morezealous leaders, in whose ranks enthusiasm in the cause supplied the wantof good order and military subjection, to the restraints which Mortonendeavoured to bring them under. In short, while bearing the principalburden of command, (for his colleagues willingly relinquished in hisfavour every thing that was troublesome and obnoxious in the office ofgeneral,) Morton found himself without that authority, which alone couldrender his regulations effectual. [Note: These feuds, which tore topieces the little army of insurgents, turned merely on the point whetherthe king's interest or royal authority was to be owned or not, andwhether the party in arms were to be contented with a free exercise oftheir own religion, or insist upon the re-establishment of Presbytery inits supreme authority, and with full power to predominate over all otherforms of worship. The few country gentlemen who joined the insurrection,with the most sensible part of the clergy, thought it best to limit theirdemands to what it might be possible to attain. But the party who urgedthese moderate views were termed by the more zealous bigots, the Erastianparty, men, namely, who were willing to place the church under theinfluence of the civil government, and therefore they accounted them, "asnare upon Mizpah, and a net spread upon Tabor." See the Life of SirRobert Hamilton in the Scottish Worthies, and his account of the Battleof Both-well-bridge, passim.]
Yet, notwithstanding these obstacles, he had, during the course of a fewdays, laboured so hard to introduce some degree of discipline into thearmy, that he thought he might hazard a second attack upon Glasgow withevery prospect of success.
It cannot be doubted that Morton's anxiety to measure himself withColonel Grahame of Claverhouse, at whose hands he had sustained suchinjury, had its share in giving motive to his uncommon exertions. ButClaverhouse disappointed his hopes; for, satisfied with having theadvantage in repulsing the first attack upon Glasgow, he determined thathe would not, with the handful of troops under his command, await asecond assault from the insurgents, with more numerous and betterdisciplined forces than had supported their first enterprise. Hetherefore evacuated the place, and marched at the head of his troopstowards Edinburgh. The insurgents of course entered Glasgow withoutresistance, and without Morton having the opportunity, which he so deeplycoveted, of again encountering Claverhouse personally. But, although hehad not an opportunity of wiping away the disgrace which had befallen hisdivision of the army of the Covenant, the retreat of Claverhouse, and thepossession of Glasgow, tended greatly to animate the insurgent army, andto increase its numbers. The necessity of appointing new officers, oforganizing new regiments and squadrons, of making them acquainted with atleast the most necessary points of military discipline, were labours,which, by universal consent, seemed to be devolved upon Henry Morton, andwhich he the more readily undertook, because his father had made himacquainted with the theory of the military art, and because he plainlysaw, that, unless he took this ungracious but absolutely necessarylabour, it was vain to expect any other to engage in it.
In the meanwhile, fortune appeared to favour the enterprise of theinsurgents more than the most sanguine durst have expected. The PrivyCouncil of Scotland, astonished at the extent of resistance which theirarbitrary measures had provoked, seemed stupified with terror, andincapable of taking active steps to subdue the resentment which thesemeasures had excited. There were but very few troops in Scotland, andthese they drew towards Edinburgh, as if to form an army for protectionof the metropolis. The feudal array of the crown vassals in the variouscounties, was ordered to take the field, and render to the King themilitary service due for their fiefs. But the summons was very slacklyobeyed. The quarrel was not generally popular among the gentry; and eventhose who were not unwilling themselves to have taken arms, were deterredby the repugnance of their wives, mothers, and sisters, to their engagingin such a cause.
Meanwhile, the inadequacy of the Scottish government to provide for theirown def
ence, or to put down a rebellion of which the commencement seemedso trifling, excited at the English court doubts at once of theircapacity, and of the prudence of the severities they had exerted againstthe oppressed presbyterians. It was, therefore, resolved to nominate tothe command of the army of Scotland, the unfortunate Duke of Monmouth,who had by marriage a great interest, large estate, and a numerousfollowing, as it was called, in the southern parts of that kingdom. Themilitary skill which he had displayed on different occasions abroad, wassupposed more than adequate to subdue the insurgents in the field; whileit was expected that his mild temper, and the favourable dispositionwhich he showed to presbyterians in general, might soften men's minds,and tend to reconcile them to the government. The Duke was, therefore,invested with a commission, containing high powers for settling thedistracted affairs of Scotland, and dispatched from London with strongsuccours to take the principal military command in that country.