Doeg!— The swords drawn now that winna be lang o’ o’ertaking ye, ride as fast as ye will.”
Claverhouse, it may be easily supposed, was too busy to attend to her reproaches, but hastened over the hill, anxious to get the remnant of his men out of gun-shot, in hopes of again collecting the fugitives round his standard. But as the rear of his followers rode over the ridge, a shot struck Lord Evandale’s horse, which instantly sunk down dead beneath him. Two of the whig horsemen, who were the foremost in the pursuit, hastened up with the purpose of killing him, for hitherto there had been no quarter given. Morton, on the other hand, rushed forward to save his life, if possible, in order at once to indulge his natural generosity, and to requite the obligation which Lord Evandale had conferred on him that morning, and under which circumstances had made him wince so acutely. Just as he had assisted Evandale, who was much wounded, to extricate himself from his dying horse, and to gain his feet, the two horsemen came up, and one of them exclaiming, “Have at the red-coated tyrant!” made a blow at the young nobleman, which Morton parried with difficulty, exclaiming to the rider, who was no other than Burley himself, “Give quarter to this gentleman, for my sake — for the sake,” he added, observing that Burley did not immediately recognise him, “of Henry Morton, who so lately sheltered you.”
“Henry Morton?” replied Burley, wiping his bloody brow with his bloodier hand; “did I not say that the son of Silas Morton would come forth out of the land of bondage, nor be long an indweller in the tents of Ham? Thou art a brand snatched out of the burning — But for this booted apostle of prelacy, he shall die the death!— We must smite them hip and thigh, even from the rising to the going down of the sun. It is our commission to slay them like Amalek, and utterly destroy all they have, and spare neither man nor woman, infant nor suckling; therefore, hinder me not,” he continued, endeavouring again to cut down Lord Evandale, “for this work must not be wrought negligently.”
“You must not, and you shall not, slay him, more especially while incapable of defence,” said Morton, planting himself before Lord Evandale so as to intercept any blow that should be aimed at him; “I owed my life to him this morning — my life, which was endangered solely by my having sheltered you; and to shed his blood when he can offer no effectual resistance, were not only a cruelty abhorrent to God and man, but detestable ingratitude both to him and to me.”
Burley paused.—“Thou art yet,” he said, “in the court of the Gentiles, and I compassionate thy human blindness and frailty. Strong meat is not fit for babes, nor the mighty and grinding dispensation under which I draw my sword, for those whose hearts are yet dwelling in huts of clay, whose footsteps are tangled in the mesh of mortal sympathies, and who clothe themselves in the righteousness that is as filthy rags. But to gain a soul to the truth is better than to send one to Tophet; therefore I give quarter to this youth, providing the grant is confirmed by the general council of God’s army, whom he hath this day blessed with so signal a deliverance.— Thou art unarmed — Abide my return here. I must yet pursue these sinners, the Amalekites, and destroy them till they be utterly consumed from the face of the land, even from Havilah unto Shur.”
So saying, he set spurs to his horse, and continued to pursue the chase.
“Cuddie,” said Morton, “for God’s sake catch a horse as quickly as you can. I will not trust Lord Evandale’s life with these obdurate men.— You are wounded, my lord.— Are you able to continue your retreat?” he continued, addressing himself to his prisoner, who, half-stunned by the fall, was but beginning to recover himself.
“I think so,” replied Lord Evandale. “But is it possible?— Do I owe my life to Mr Morton?”
“My interference would have been the same from common humanity,” replied Morton; “to your lordship it was a sacred debt of gratitude.”
Cuddie at this instant returned with a horse.
“God-sake, munt — munt, and ride like a fleeing hawk, my lord,” said the good-natured fellow, “for ne’er be in me, if they arena killing every ane o’ the wounded and prisoners!”
Lord Evandale mounted the horse, while Cuddie officiously held the stirrup.
“Stand off, good fellow, thy courtesy may cost thy life.— Mr Morton,” he continued, addressing Henry, “this makes us more than even — rely on it, I will never forget your generosity — Farewell.”
He turned his horse, and rode swiftly away in the direction which seemed least exposed to pursuit.
Lord Evandale had just rode off, when several of the insurgents, who were in the front of the pursuit, came up, denouncing vengeance on Henry Morton and Cuddie for having aided the escape of a Philistine, as they called the young nobleman.
“What wad ye hae had us to do?” cried Cuddie. “Had we aught to stop a man wi’ that had twa pistols and a sword? Sudna ye hae come faster up yoursells, instead of flyting at huz?”
This excuse would hardly have passed current; but Kettledrummle, who now awoke from his trance of terror, and was known to, and reverenced by, most of the wanderers, together with Mause, who possessed their appropriate language as well as the preacher himself, proved active and effectual intercessors.
“Touch them not, harm them not,” exclaimed Kettledrummle, in his very best double-bass tones; “this is the son of the famous Silas Morton, by whom the Lord wrought great things in this land at the breaking forth of the reformation from prelacy, when there was a plentiful pouring forth of the Word and a renewing of the Covenant; a hero and champion of those blessed days, when there was power and efficacy, and convincing and converting of sinners, and heart-exercises, and fellowships of saints, and a plentiful flowing forth of the spices of the garden of Eden.”
“And this is my son Cuddie,” exclaimed Mause, in her turn, “the son of his father, Judden Headrigg, wha was a douce honest man, and of me, Mause Middlemas, an unworthy professor and follower of the pure gospel, and ane o’ your ain folk. Is it not written, ‘Cut ye not off the tribe of the families of the Kohathites from among the Levites?’ Numbers, fourth and aughteenth — O! sirs! dinna be standing here prattling wi’ honest folk, when ye suld be following forth your victory with which Providence has blessed ye.”
This party having passed on, they were immediately beset by another, to whom it was necessary to give the same explanation. Kettledrummle, whose fear was much dissipated since the firing had ceased, again took upon him to be intercessor, and grown bold, as he felt his good word necessary for the protection of his late fellow-captives, he laid claim to no small share of the merit of the victory, appealing to Morton and Cuddie, whether the tide of battle had not turned while he prayed on the Mount of Jehovah-Nissi, like Moses, that Israel might prevail over Amalek; but granting them, at the same time, the credit of holding up his hands when they waxed heavy, as those of the prophet were supported by Aaron and Hur. It seems probable that Kettledrummle allotted this part in the success to his companions in adversity, lest they should be tempted to disclose his carnal self-seeking and falling away, in regarding too closely his own personal safety. These strong testimonies in favour of the liberated captives quickly flew abroad, with many exaggerations, among the victorious army. The reports on the subject were various; but it was universally agreed, that young Morton of Milnwood, the son of the stout soldier of the Covenant, Silas Morton, together with the precious Gabriel Kettledrummle, and a singular devout Christian woman, whom many thought as good as himself at extracting a doctrine or an use, whether of terror or consolation, had arrived to support the good old cause, with a reinforcement of a hundred well-armed men from the Middle Ward. 24
24 Skirmish at Drumclog. This affair, the only one in which Claverhouse
