CHAPTER XV.
My native land, good night! Lord Byron.
The Privy Council of Scotland, in whom the practice since the union ofthe crowns vested great judicial powers, as well as the generalsuperintendence of the executive department, was met in the ancient darkGothic room, adjoining to the House of Parliament in Edinburgh, whenGeneral Grahame entered and took his place amongst the members at thecouncil table.
"You have brought us a leash of game to-day, General," said a nobleman ofhigh place amongst them. "Here is a craven to confess--a cock of the gameto stand at bay--and what shall I call the third, General?"
"Without further metaphor, I will entreat your Grace to call him a personin whom I am specially interested," replied Claverhouse.
"And a whig into the bargain?" said the nobleman, lolling out a tonguewhich was at all times too big for his mouth, and accommodating hiscoarse features to a sneer, to which they seemed to be familiar.
"Yes, please your Grace, a whig; as your Grace was in 1641," repliedClaverhouse, with his usual appearance of imperturbable civility.
"He has you there, I think, my Lord Duke," said one of the PrivyCouncillors.
"Ay, ay," returned the Duke, laughing, "there's no speaking to him sinceDrumclog--but come, bring in the prisoners--and do you, Mr Clerk, readthe record."
The clerk read forth a bond, in which General Grahame of Claverhouse andLord Evandale entered themselves securities, that Henry Morton, youngerof Milnwood, should go abroad and remain in foreign parts, until hisMajesty's pleasure was further known, in respect of the said HenryMorton's accession to the late rebellion, and that under penalty of lifeand limb to the said Henry Morton, and of ten thousand marks to each ofhis securities.
"Do you accept of the King's mercy upon these terms, Mr Morton?" said theDuke of Lauderdale, who presided in the Council.
"I have no other choice, my lord," replied Morton.
"Then subscribe your name in the record."
Morton did so without reply, conscious that, in the circumstances of hiscase, it was impossible for him to have escaped more easily. Macbriar,who was at the same instant brought to the foot of the council-table,bound upon a chair, for his weakness prevented him from standing, beheldMorton in the act of what he accounted apostasy.
"He hath summed his defection by owning the carnal power of the tyrant!"he exclaimed, with a deep groan--"A fallen star!--a fallen star!"
"Hold your peace, sir," said the Duke, "and keep your ain breath to coolyour ain porridge--ye'll find them scalding hot, I promise you.--Call inthe other fellow, who has some common sense. One sheep will leap theditch when another goes first."
Cuddie was introduced unbound, but under the guard of two halberdiers,and placed beside Macbriar at the foot of the table. The poor fellow casta piteous look around him, in which were mingled awe for the great men inwhose presence he stood, and compassion for his fellow-sufferers, with nosmall fear of the personal consequences which impended over himself. Hemade his clownish obeisances with a double portion of reverence, and thenawaited the opening of the awful scene.
"Were you at the battle of Bothwell Brigg?" was the first question whichwas thundered in his ears.
Cuddie meditated a denial, but had sense enough, upon reflection, todiscover that the truth would be too strong for him; so he replied, withtrue Caledonian indirectness of response, "I'll no say but it may bepossible that I might hae been there."
"Answer directly, you knave--yes, or no?--You know you were there."
"It's no for me to contradict your Lordship's Grace's honour," saidCuddie.
"Once more, sir, were you there?--yes, or no?" said the Duke,impatiently.
"Dear stir," again replied Cuddie, "how can ane mind preceesely wherethey hae been a' the days o' their life?"
"Speak out, you scoundrel," said General Dalzell, "or I'll dash yourteeth out with my dudgeonhaft!--Do you think we can stand here all day tobe turning and dodging with you, like greyhounds after a hare?" [Note:The General is said to have struck one of the captive whigs, when underexamination, with the hilt of his sabre, so that the blood gushed out.The provocation for this unmanly violence was, that the prisoner hadcalled the fierce veteran "a Muscovy beast, who used to roast men."Dalzell had been long in the Russian service, which in those days was noschool of humanity.]
"Aweel, then," said Cuddie, "since naething else will please ye, writedown that I cannot deny but I was there."
"Well, sir," said the Duke, "and do you think that the rising upon thatoccasion was rebellion or not?"
"I'm no just free to gie my opinion, stir," said the cautious captive,"on what might cost my neck; but I doubt it will be very little better."
"Better than what?"
"Just than rebellion, as your honour ca's it," replied Cuddie.
"Well, sir, that's speaking to the purpose," replied his Grace. "And areyou content to accept of the King's pardon for your guilt as a rebel, andto keep the church, and pray for the King?"
"Blithely, stir," answered the unscrupulous Cuddie; "and drink his healthinto the bargain, when the ale's gude."
"Egad," said the Duke, "this is a hearty cock.--What brought you intosuch a scrape, mine honest friend?"
"Just ill example, stir," replied the prisoner, "and a daft auld jaud ofa mither, wi' reverence to your Grace's honour."
"Why, God-a-mercy, my friend," replied the Duke, "take care of bad adviceanother time; I think you are not likely to commit treason on your ownscore.--Make out his free pardon, and bring forward the rogue in thechair."
Macbriar was then moved forward to the post of examination.
"Were you at the battle of Bothwell Bridge?" was, in like manner,demanded of him.
"I was," answered the prisoner, in a bold and resolute tone.
"Were you armed?"
"I was not--I went in my calling as a preacher of God's word, toencourage them that drew the sword in His cause."
"In other words, to aid and abet the rebels?" said the Duke.
"Thou hast spoken it," replied the prisoner.
"Well, then," continued the interrogator, "let us know if you saw JohnBalfour of Burley among the party?--I presume you know him?"
"I bless God that I do know him," replied Macbriar; "he is a zealous anda sincere Christian."
"And when and where did you last see this pious personage?" was the querywhich immediately followed.
"I am here to answer for myself," said Macbriar, in the same dauntlessmanner, "and not to endanger others."
"We shall know," said Dalzell, "how to make you find your tongue."
"If you can make him fancy himself in a conventicle," answeredLauderdale, "he will find it without you.--Come, laddie, speak while theplay is good--you're too young to bear the burden will be laid on youelse."
"I defy you," retorted Macbriar. "This has not been the first of myimprisonments or of my sufferings; and, young as I may be, I have livedlong enough to know how to die when I am called upon."
"Ay, but there are some things which must go before an easy death, if youcontinue obstinate," said Lauderdale, and rung a small silver bell whichwas placed before him on the table.
A dark crimson curtain, which covered a sort of niche, or Gothic recessin the wall, rose at the signal, and displayed the public executioner, atall, grim, and hideous man, having an oaken table before him, on whichlay thumb-screws, and an iron case, called the Scottish boot, used inthose tyrannical days to torture accused persons. Morton, who wasunprepared for this ghastly apparition, started when the curtain arose,but Macbriar's nerves were more firm. He gazed upon the horribleapparatus with much composure; and if a touch of nature called the bloodfrom his cheek for a second, resolution sent it back to his brow withgreater energy.
"Do you know who that man is?" said Lauderdale, in a low, stern voice,almost sinking into a whisper.
"He is, I suppose," replied Macbriar, "the infamous executioner of yourbloodthirsty commands
upon the persons of God's people. He and you areequally beneath my regard; and, I bless God, I no more fear what he caninflict than what you can command. Flesh and blood may shrink under thesufferings you can doom me to, and poor frail nature may shed tears, orsend forth cries; but I trust my soul is anchored firmly on the rock ofages."
"Do your duty," said the Duke to the executioner.
The fellow advanced, and asked, with a harsh and discordant voice, uponwhich of the prisoner's limbs he should first employ his engine.
"Let him choose for himself," said the Duke; "I should like to oblige himin any thing that is reasonable."
"Since you leave it to me," said the prisoner, stretching forth his rightleg, "take the best--I willingly bestow it in the cause for which Isuffer." [Note: This was the reply actually made by James Mitchell whensubjected to the torture of the boot, for an attempt to assassinateArchbishop Sharpe.]
The executioner, with the help of his assistants, enclosed the leg andknee within the tight iron boot, or case, and then placing a wedge of thesame metal between the knee and the edge of the machine, took a mallet inhis hand, and stood waiting for farther orders. A well-dressed man, byprofession a surgeon, placed himself by the other side of the prisoner'schair, bared the prisoner's arm, and applied his thumb to the pulse inorder to regulate the torture according to the strength of the patient.When these preparations were made, the President of the Council repeatedwith the same stern voice the question, "When and where did you last seeJohn Balfour of Burley?"
The prisoner, instead of replying to him, turned his eyes to heaven as ifimploring Divine strength, and muttered a few words, of which the lastwere distinctly audible, "Thou hast said thy people shall be willing inthe day of thy power!"
The Duke of Lauderdale glanced his eye around the council as if tocollect their suffrages, and, judging from their mute signs, gave on hisown part a nod to the executioner, whose mallet instantly descended onthe wedge, and, forcing it between the knee and the iron boot, occasionedthe most exquisite pain, as was evident from the flush which instantlytook place on the brow and on the cheeks of the sufferer. The fellow thenagain raised his weapon, and stood prepared to give a second blow.
"Will you yet say," repeated the Duke of Lauderdale, "where and when youlast parted from Balfour of Burley?"
"You have my answer," said the sufferer resolutely, and the second blowfell. The third and fourth succeeded; but at the fifth, when a largerwedge had been introduced, the prisoner set up a scream of agony.
Morton, whose blood boiled within him at witnessing such cruelty, couldbear no longer, and, although unarmed and himself in great danger, wasspringing forward, when Claverhouse, who observed his emotion, withheldhim by force, laying one hand on his arm and the other on his mouth,while he whispered, "For God's sake, think where you are!"
This movement, fortunately for him, was observed by no other of thecouncillors, whose attention was engaged with the dreadful scene beforethem.
"He is gone," said the surgeon--"he has fainted, my Lords, and humannature can endure no more."
"Release him," said the Duke; and added, turning to Dalzell, "He willmake an old proverb good, for he'll scarce ride to-day, though he has hadhis boots on. I suppose we must finish with him?"
"Ay, dispatch his sentence, and have done with him; we have plenty ofdrudgery behind."
Strong waters and essences were busily employed to recall the senses ofthe unfortunate captive; and, when his first faint gasps intimated areturn of sensation, the Duke pronounced sentence of death upon him, as atraitor taken in the act of open rebellion, and adjudged him to becarried from the bar to the common place of execution, and there hangedby the neck; his head and hands to be stricken off after death, anddisposed of according to the pleasure of the Council, [Note: The pleasureof the Council respecting the relics of their victims was often as savageas the rest of their conduct. The heads of the preachers were frequentlyexposed on pikes between their two hands, the palms displayed as in theattitude of prayer. When the celebrated Richard Cameron's head wasexposed in this manner, a spectator bore testimony to it as that of onewho lived praying and preaching, and died praying and fighting.] and alland sundry his movable goods and gear escheat and inbrought to hisMajesty's use.
"Doomster," he continued, "repeat the sentence to the prisoner."
The office of Doomster was in those days, and till a much later period,held by the executioner in commendam, with his ordinary functions. [Note:See a note on the subject of this office in the Heart of Mid-Lothian.]The duty consisted in reciting to the unhappy criminal the sentence ofthe law as pronounced by the judge, which acquired an additional andhorrid emphasis from the recollection, that the hateful personage by whomit was uttered was to be the agent of the cruelties he denounced.Macbriar had scarce understood the purport of the words as firstpronounced by the Lord President of the Council; but he was sufficientlyrecovered to listen and to reply to the sentence when uttered by theharsh and odious voice of the ruffian who was to execute it, and at thelast awful words, "And this I pronounce for doom," he answered boldly--"My Lords, I thank you for the only favour I looked for, or would acceptat your hands, namely, that you have sent the crushed and maimed carcass,which has this day sustained your cruelty, to this hasty end. It wereindeed little to me whether I perish on the gallows or in theprison-house; but if death, following close on what I have this daysuffered, had found me in my cell of darkness and bondage, many mighthave lost the sight how a Christian man can suffer in the good cause. Forthe rest, I forgive you, my Lords, for what you have appointed and I havesustained--And why should I not?--Ye send me to a happy exchange--to thecompany of angels and the spirits of the just, for that of frail dustand ashes--Ye send me from darkness into day--from mortality toimmortality--and, in a word, from earth to heaven!--If the thanks,therefore, and pardon of a dying man can do you good, take them at myhand, and may your last moments be as happy as mine!"
As he spoke thus, with a countenance radiant with joy and triumph, he waswithdrawn by those who had brought him into the apartment, and executedwithin half an hour, dying with the same enthusiastic firmness which hiswhole life had evinced.
The Council broke up, and Morton found himself again in the carriage withGeneral Grahame.
"Marvellous firmness and gallantry!" said Morton, as he reflected uponMacbriar's conduct; "what a pity it is that with such self-devotion andheroism should have been mingled the fiercer features of his sect!"
"You mean," said Claverhouse, "his resolution to condemn you to death?--To that he would have reconciled himself by a single text; for example,'And Phinehas arose and executed judgment,' or something to the samepurpose.--But wot ye where you are now bound, Mr Morton?"
"We are on the road to Leith, I observe," answered Morton. "Can I not bepermitted to see my friends ere I leave my native land?"
"Your uncle," replied Grahame, "has been spoken to, and declines visitingyou. The good gentleman is terrified, and not without some reason, thatthe crime of your treason may extend itself over his lands andtenements--he sends you, however, his blessing, and a small sum of money.Lord Evandale continues extremely indisposed. Major Bellenden is atTillietudlem putting matters in order. The scoundrels have made greathavoc there with Lady Margaret's muniments of antiquity, and havedesecrated and destroyed what the good lady called the Throne of his mostSacred Majesty. Is there any one else whom you would wish to see?"
Morton sighed deeply as he answered, "No--it would avail nothing.--But mypreparations,--small as they are, some must be necessary."
"They are all ready for you," said the General. "Lord Evandale hasanticipated all you wish. Here is a packet from him with letters ofrecommendation for the court of the Stadtholder Prince of Orange, towhich I have added one or two. I made my first campaigns under him, andfirst saw fire at the battle of Seneff. [Note: August 1674. Claverhousegreatly distinguished himself in this action, and was made Captain.]There are also bills of exchange for your immediate wants, and more willbe sent
when you require it."
Morton heard all this and received the parcel with an astounded andconfused look, so sudden was the execution of the sentence of banishment.
"And my servant?" he said.
"He shall be taken care of, and replaced, if it be practicable, in theservice of Lady Margaret Bellenden; I think he will hardly neglect theparade of the feudal retainers, or go a-whigging a second time.--But herewe are upon the quay, and the boat waits you."
It was even as Claverhouse said. A boat waited for Captain Morton, withthe trunks and baggage belonging to his rank. Claverhouse shook him bythe hand, and wished him good fortune, and a happy return to Scotland inquieter times.
"I shall never forget," he said, "the gallantry of your behaviour to myfriend Evandale, in circumstances when many men would have sought to ridhim out of their way."
Another friendly pressure, and they parted. As Morton descended the pierto get into the boat, a hand placed in his a letter folded up in verysmall space. He looked round. The person who gave it seemed much muffledup; he pressed his finger upon his lip, and then disappeared among thecrowd. The incident awakened Morton's curiosity; and when he foundhimself on board of a vessel bound for Rotterdam, and saw all hiscompanions of the voyage busy making their own arrangements, he took anopportunity to open the billet thus mysteriously thrust upon him. It ranthus:--"Thy courage on the fatal day when Israel fled before hisenemies, hath, in some measure, atoned for thy unhappy owning of theErastian interest. These are not days for Ephraim to strive with Israel.--I know thy heart is with the daughter of the stranger. But turn fromthat folly; for in exile, and in flight, and even in death itself, shallmy hand be heavy against that bloody and malignant house, and Providencehath given me the means of meting unto them with their own measure ofruin and confiscation. The resistance of their stronghold was the maincause of our being scattered at Bothwell Bridge, and I have bound it uponmy soul to visit it upon them. Wherefore, think of her no more, but joinwith our brethren in banishment, whose hearts are still towards thismiserable land to save and to relieve her. There is an honest remnant inHolland whose eyes are looking out for deliverance. Join thyself untothem like the true son of the stout and worthy Silas Morton, and thouwilt have good acceptance among them for his sake and for thine ownworking. Shouldst thou be found worthy again to labour in the vineyard,thou wilt at all times hear of my in-comings and out-goings, by enquiringafter Quintin Mackell of Irongray, at the house of that singularChristian woman, Bessie Maclure, near to the place called the Howff,where Niel Blane entertaineth guests. So much from him who hopes to hearagain from thee in brotherhood, resisting unto blood, and strivingagainst sin. Meanwhile, possess thyself in patience. Keep thy swordgirded, and thy lamp burning, as one that wakes in the night; for He whoshall judge the Mount of Esau, and shall make false professors as straw,and malignants as stubble, will come in the fourth watch with garmentsdyed in blood, and the house of Jacob shall be for spoil, and the houseof Joseph for fire. I am he that hath written it, whose hand hath been onthe mighty in the waste field."
This extraordinary letter was subscribed J. B. of B.; but the signatureof these initials was not necessary for pointing out to Morton that itcould come from no other than Burley. It gave him new occasion to admirethe indomitable spirit of this man, who, with art equal to his courageand obstinacy, was even now endeavouring to re-establish the web ofconspiracy which had been so lately torn to pieces. But he felt no sortof desire, in the present moment, to sustain a correspondence which mustbe perilous, or to renew an association, which, in so many ways, had beennearly fatal to him. The threats which Burley held out against the familyof Bellenden, he considered as a mere expression of his spleen on accountof their defence of Tillietudlem; and nothing seemed less likely thanthat, at the very moment of their party being victorious, their fugitiveand distressed adversary could exercise the least influence over theirfortunes.
Morton, however, hesitated for an instant, whether he should not sendthe Major or Lord Evandale intimation of Burley's threats. Uponconsideration, he thought he could not do so without betraying hisconfidential correspondence; for to warn them of his menaces would haveserved little purpose, unless he had given them a clew to prevent them,by apprehending his person; while, by doing so, he deemed he shouldcommit an ungenerous breach of trust to remedy an evil which seemedalmost imaginary. Upon mature consideration, therefore, he tore theletter, having first made a memorandum of the name and place where thewriter was to be heard of, and threw the fragments into the sea.
While Morton was thus employed the vessel was unmoored, and the whitesails swelled out before a favourable north-west wind. The ship leanedher side to the gale, and went roaring through the waves, leaving a longand rippling furrow to track her course. The city and port from which hehad sailed became undistinguishable in the distance; the hills by whichthey were surrounded melted finally into the blue sky, and Morton wasseparated for several years from the land of his nativity.