brogue," said Dalifour, with perfect composure. "A spur! and for what purpose at such a time and place as this?" asked Invereshie. "I intend to have a good horse before the day is over," answered the clansman with the same coolness. Dalifour kept his word; for the lowland horse, disconcerted by a smart fire, and the broken nature of the ground, being worsted in the first onset, he got possession of a charger, on which he followed the pursuit, and brought in two prisoners.

The report of this skirmish gave a good specimen to Montrose of the mettle of the mountaineers, while the subsequent appearance of the Atholemen, eight hundred strong, and the enthusiastic shouts with which they received their general, soon gave confidence to the light-hearted Irishmen. Montrose instantly commenced his march upon Strathern, and crossed the Tay. He had scarce done so, when he discovered on the hill of Buchanty a body of about four hundred men, who, he had the satisfaction to learn by his scouts, where commanded by two of his own particular friends, lord Kilpont and sir John Drummond. They had taken arms, on hearing that a body of Irish were traversing the country; and learning that they were there under Montrose's command, for the king's service, they immediately placed themselves and their followers under his orders.

He

Montrose received these succours in good time, for while Argyle pursued him with a large body of his adherents, who had followed the track of the Irish, lord Elcho, the earl of Tullibardine, and lord Drummond, had collected an army of Lowlanders to protect the city of Perth, and to fight Montrose, in case he should descend from the hills. Montrose was aware, that such an enterprise as he had undertaken could only be supported by an excess of activity and decision. therefore advanced upon the forces of Elcho, whom he found, on 1st September, 1644, drawn up in good order in a large plain called Tibbermuir, within three miles of Perth. They were nearly double Montrose's army in number, and much encouraged by numerous ministers, who exhorted them to fight valiantly, and promised them certain victory. They had cannon also, and cavalry, whereas Montrose had no artillery, and only three horses, in his army. After a skirmish with the cavalry of his opponents, who were beaten off, Montrose charged with the Highlanders, under a heavy fire from his Irish musketeers. They burst into the ranks of the enemy with irresistible fury, and compelled them to fly. Once broken, the superiority of numbers became useless, as the means of supporting a main body by reserves was not then known or practised. The Covenanters fled in the utmost terror and confusion, but the light-footed Highlanders did great execution in the pursuit. Many honest burghers, distressed by the extraordinary speed which they were compelled to exert, broke their wind, and died in consequence. Montrose sustained little or no loss.

Perth opened its gates to the victor. But Argyle, whose northern army had been augmented by a considerable body of cavalry, was now approaching with a force, against which Montrose could not pretend to defend an open town. He abandoned Perth, therefore, and marched into Angus-shire, hoping he might find adherents in that county. Accordingly, he was there joined by the old earl of Airlie and two of his sons, who never forsook him in success or disaster.

This accession of strength was counterbalanced by a shocking event. There was a Highland gentleman in Montrose's camp, named James Stewart of Ardvoirlich. He was an uncertain and dangerous character, but distinguished for his muscular strength, which was so great, that he could in grasping the hand of another person, force the blood from under the nails. This man was much favoured by the lord Kilpont, whose accession to the king's party we lately mentioned; indeed, he was admitted to share that young nobleman's tent and bed. It appears that Ardvoirlich had disapproved of the step which his friend had taken in joining Montrose, and

that he had solicited the young lord to join him in deserting from the royal army, and, it is even said, in murdering the general. Lord Kilpont rejected these proposals with disdain; when, either offended at his expressions, or fearful of being exposed in his treacherous purpose, Ardvoirlich stabbed his confiding friend mortally with his dagger. He then killed the sentinel who kept guard on the tent, and escaped to the camp of Argyle, where he received preferment. Montrose was awaked by the tumult which this melancholy event excited in the camp, and rushing into the crowd of soldiers, had the unhappiness to see the bleeding corpse of his noble friend, thus basely and treacherously murdered. The death of this young nobleman was a great loss to the royal cause.

Montrose, so much inferior in numbers to his enemies, could not well form any fixed plan of operations. He resolved to make up for this, by moving with the most extraordinary celerity from one part of the country to another, so as to strike severe blows where they were least expected, and take the chance of awakening the drooping spirit of the royalists. He therefore marched suddenly on Aberdeen, to endeavour to arouse the Gordons to arms, and defeat any body of Covenanters which might overawe the king's friends in that country. His army was now, however, greatly reduced in numbers; for the Highlanders, who had no idea of serving for a whole campaign, had most of them returned home to their own districts, to lodge their booty in safety, and get in their harvest. It was, on all occasions, the greatest inconvenience attending a Highland army that, after a battle, whether they won the day or lost it, they were certain to leave their standard in great numbers, and held it their undoubted right to do so; insomuch, that a victory thinned their ranks as much as a defeat is apt to do those of other armies. It is true, that they could be gathered again with equal celerity; but this humour, of deserting at their pleasure, was a principal reason why the brilliant victories of Montrose were productive of few decided results.

On reaching Aberdeen, Montrose hastened to take possession of the bridge of Dee, the principal approach to that town, and having made good this important point, he found himself in front of an army commanded by lord Burleigh. He had the mortification also to find, that part of a large body of horse in the Covenanting army, were Gordons, who had been compelled to take arms in that cause by lord Lewis Gordon, the third son of the marquis of Huntley, a wild and wilful young man, whose politics differed from those of his father, and upon whom he had once committed a considerable robbery.

Finding himself greatly inferior in horse, of which he had not fifty, Montrose intermingled with his cavalry some of his musketeers, who, for breath and speed, could keep up with the movements of such horse as he possessed. The Gordons, not perhaps very favourable to the side on which they ranked, made an ineffectual attack upon the horse of Montrose, which was repelled. And when the mingled musketeers and cavalry in their turn advanced on them, lord Lewis's men fled, in spite of his own personal exertions; and Montrose, we are informed, found it possible to move his handful of cavalry to the other wing of his army, and to encounter and defeat the horse of the Covenanters on both flanks successively, with the same wearied party of riders. The terror struck into his opponents by the novelty of mixing musketeers with cavalry, contributed not a little to this extraordinary success. While this was passing, the two bodies of infantry cannonaded each other, for Montrose had in the field the guns which he took at Tibbermuir. The Covenanters had the superiority in this part of the action, but it did not daunt the royalists. The gaiety of an Irishman, whose leg was shot off by a cannon-ball, so that it hung only by a bit of skin, gave spirit to all around him.-"Go on," he cried, "this bodes me promotion; as I am now disabled for the foot service, I am

certain my lord the marquis will make me a trooper." Montrose left the courage of his men no time to subside-he led them daringly up to the enemy's teeth, and succeeded in a desperate charge, routing the Covenanters, and pursuing them into the town and through the streets. Stormed as it was by such a tumultuary army, Aberdeen and its inhabitants suffered greatly. Many were killed in the streets; and the cruelty of the Irish in particular was so great, that they compelled the wretched citizens to strip themselves of their clothes before they killed them, to prevent their being soiled with blood! The women durst not lament their husbands or their fathers slaughtered in their presence, nor inter the dead, which remained unburied in the streets until the Irish departed. Montrose necessarily gave way to acts of pillage and cruelty, which he could not prevent, because he was unprovided with money to pay his half-barbarous soldiery. Yet the town of Aberdeen had two reasons for expecting better treatment :-First, that it had always inclined to the king's party; and, secondly, that Montrose himself had, when acting for the Covenanters, been the agent in oppressing for its loyalty the very city which his troops were now plundering on the opposite score.

Argyle always continued following Montrose with a superior army, but, it would appear, not with a very anxious desire to overtake him. With a degree of activity that seemed incredible, Montrose marched up the Spey, hoping still to raise the Gordons. But that clan too strongly resented his former conduct towards them, as general for the Covenant, besides being sore with recollections of their recent check at the Bridge of Dee; and, on all these accounts, declined to join him. On the other hand, the men of Moray, who were very zealous against Montrose, appeared on the northern bank of the Spey to oppose his passage. Thus hemmed in on all sides, and headed back like an animal of chase from the course he intended to pursue, Montrose and his little army showed an extremity of courage. They hid their cannon in a bog, destroyed what they had of heavy baggage, entered Badenoch, where the clan Chattan had shown themselves uniformly friendly, and descended from thence upon Athole, and so on to Angus-shire. After several long and rapid marches, Montrose returned again into Strathbogie, re-crossing the great chain of the Grampians; and, clinging still to the hope of being able to raise the gentlemen of the name of Gordon, who were naturally disposed to join the royal standard, again repaired to Aberdeenshire.

Here this bold leader narrowly escaped a great danger. His army was considerably dispersed, and he himself lying at the castle of Fyvie, when he found himself at once threatened, and nearly surrounded, by Argyle and Lothian, at the head of very superior forces. A part of the enemy had already occupied the approach to Montrose's position by means of ditches and enclosures, through which they had insinuated themselves, and his own men were beginning to look out of countenance, when Montrose, disguising his apprehensions, called to a gay and gallant young Irish officer, as if he had been imposing a trifling piece of duty,"What are you doing, O'Kean? can you not chase these troublesome rascals out of the ditches and enclosures?" O'Kean obeyed the command in the spirit in which it was given; and, driving the enemy before him, got possession of some of their gunpowder, which was much needed in Montrose's army. The remark of the Irishman on this occasion, who heavily complained of the neglect of the enemy in omitting to leave a supply of ball, corresponding to the powder, showed the confidence with which Montrose had been able to inspire his men.

The earl of Lothian, on the other side, came with five troops of horse upon Montrose's handful of cavalry, amounting scarcely to fifty men. But Montrose had, on the present occasion, as at the Bridge of Dee, sustained his troopers by mingling them with musketry. So that Lothian's men, receiving an unexpected and galling

fire, wheeled about, and could not again be brought to advance. Many hours were spent in skirmishing, with advantage on Montrose's part, and loss on that of Argyle, until at length the former thought it most advisable to retreat from Fyvie to Strathbogie.

On the road he was deserted by many Lowland gentlemen who had joined him, and who saw his victories were followed with no better results than toilsome marches among wilds, where it was nearly impossible to provide subsistence for man or horse, and which the approach of winter was about to render still more desolate. They left his army, therefore, promising to return in summer; and of all his Lowland adherents, the old earl of Airlie and his sons alone remained. They had paid dearly for their attachment to the royal cause, Argyle having plundered their estates, and burnt their principal mansion, the "Bonnie house of Airlie," situated on the river Isla, the memory of which conflagration is still preserved in Scottish song.

But the same circumstance which wearied out the patience of Montrose's Lowland followers, rendered it impossible for Argyle to keep the field; and he sent his army into winter quarters, in full confidence that his enemy was cooped up for the season in the narrow and unprovided country of Athole and its neighbourhood, where he might be suffered to exist with little inconvenience to the rest of Scotland, till spring should enable the Covenanters to attack him with a superior force. In the mean time, the marquis of Argyle returned to his own domains. [Montrose was finally entirely defeated at Philiphaugh, July 2nd, 1645.]

BETRAYAL OF CHARLES BY THE SCOTCH ARMY.

SIR WALTER SCOTT.

The strong places which the Royalists possessed were taken one after another; and the king's cause was totally ruined. The successes of Montrose* had excited a gleam of hope, which disappeared after his defeat at Philiphaugh. Finally, king Charles was shut up in the city of Oxford, which had adhered to his cause with the most devoted loyalty; the last army which he had in the field was destroyed; and he had no alternative save to remain in Oxford till he should be taken prisoner, to surrender himself to his enemies, or to escape abroad.

In circumstances so desperate, it was difficult to make a choice. A frank surrender to the parliament, or an escape abroad, would have perhaps been the most advisable conduct. But the parliament and their own Independent army were now on the brink of quarrelling. The establishment of the Presbyterian Church was resolved upon, though only for a time and in a limited form, and both parties were alike dissatisfied; the zealous Presbyterians, because it gave the church courts too little power; the Independents, because it invested them with any control, however slight, over persons of a different communion. Amidst the disputes of his opponents, the king hoped to find his way back to the throne.

For this purpose, and to place himself in a situation, as he hoped, from whence to negotiate with safety, Charles determined to surrender himself to that Scottish army which had been sent into England, under the Earl of Leven, as auxiliaries of the English parliament. The king concluded that he might expect personal protection, if not assistance, from an army composed of his own countrymen. Besides, the Scottish army had lately been on indifferent terms with the English. The

* In Scotland.

Independent troops, who now equalled, or even excelled them in discipline, and were actuated by an enthusiasm which the Scots did not possess, looked with an evil eye on an army composed of foreigners and Presbyterians. The English in general, as soon as their assistance was no longer necessary, began to regard their Scottish brethren as an incumbrance; and the parliament, while they supplied the Independent forces liberally with money and provisions, neglected the Scots in both these essentials, whose honour and interest were affected in proportion. A perfect acquaintance with the discontent of the Scottish army, induced Charles to throw himself upon their protection in his misfortunes.

He left Oxford in disguise, on 27th April, 1646, having only two attendants. Nine days after his departure, he surprised the old earl of Leven and the Scottish camp, who were then forming the siege of Newark, by delivering himself into their hands. The Scots received the unfortunate monarch with great outward respect, but guarded his person with vigilance. They immediately broke up the siege, and marched with great speed to the north, carrying the person of the king along with them, and observing the strictest discipline on their retreat. When their army arrived at Newcastle, a strong town which they themselves had taken and where they had a garrison, they halted to await the progress of negotiations at this singular crisis.

The

Upon surrendering himself to the Scottish army, king Charles had despatched a message to the parliament, expressing his having done so, desiring that they would send him such articles of pacification as they should agree upon, and offering to surrender Oxford, Newark, and whatever other garrisons or strong places he might still possess, and order the troops he had on foot to lay down their arms. places were surrendered accordingly, honourable terms being allowed; and the army of Montrose in the Highlands, and such other forces as the Royalists still maintained throughout England, were disbanded, as I have already told you, by the king's command.

The parliament showed great moderation, and the civil war seemed to be ended. The articles of pacification which they offered were not more rigorous than the desperate condition of the king must have taught him to expect. But questions of religion interfered to prevent the conclusion of the treaty.

In proportion as the great majority of the parliament were attached to the Presbyterian forms, Charles was devoted to the system of Episcopacy. He deemed himself bound by his coronation oath to support the Church of England, and he would not purchase his own restoration to the throne by consenting to its being set aside. Here, therefore, the negotiation betwixt the king and his parliament was broken off; but another was opened between the English parliament and the Scottish army, concerning the disposal of the king's person.

If Charles could have brought his mind to consent to the acceptance of the Solemn League and Covenant, it is probable that he would have gained all Scotland to his side. This, however, would have been granting to the Scots what he had refused to the parliament; for the support of Presbytery was the essential object of the Scottish invasion. On the other hand, it could hardly be expected that the Scottish Convention of Estates should resign the very point on which it had begun and continued the war. The Church of Scotland sent forth a solemn warning, that all engagement with the king was unlawful. The question, therefore, was, what should be done with the person of Charles.

The generous course would have been, to have suffered the king to leave the Scottish army as freely as he came there. In that case he might have embarked at Tynemouth, and found refuge in foreign countries. And even if the Scots had determined that the exigencies of the times, and the necessity of preserving the