[Footnote B: Dalziel was a man of savage manners. A prisoner having railed at him, while under examination before the privy council, calling him "a Muscovia beast, who used to roast men, the general, in a passion, struck him, with the pomel of his shabble, on the face, till the blood sprung."--FOUNTAINHALL, Vol. I. p. 159. He had sworn never to shave his beard after the death of Charles the First. This venerable appendage reached his girdle, and, as he wore always an old-fashioned buff coat, his appearance in London never failed to attract the notice of the children and of the mob. King Charles II. used to swear at him, for bringing such a rabble of boys together, to be squeezed to death, while they gaped at his long beard and antique habit, and exhorted him to shave and dress like a Christian, to keep the poor _bairns_, as Dalziel expressed it, out of danger. In compliance with this request, he once appeared at court fashionably dressed, excepting the beard; but, when the king had laughed sufficiently at the metamorphosis, he resumed his old dress, to the great joy of the boys, his usual attendants.--CREICHTON'S _Memoirs_, p. 102.] The same deplorable circumstances are more elegantly bewailed in _Clyde_, a poem, reprinted in _Scotish Descriptive Poems_, edited by Dr John Leyden, Edinburgh, 1803: "Where Bothwell's bridge connects the margins steep, And Clyde, below, runs silent, strong, and deep, The hardy peasant, by oppression driven To battle, deemed his cause the cause of heaven: Unskilled in arms, with useless courage stood, While gentle Monmouth grieved to shed his blood: But fierce Dundee, inflamed with deadly hate, In vengeance for the great Montrose's fate, Let loose the sword, and to the hero's shade A barbarous hecatomb of victims paid." The object of Claverhouse's revenge, assigned by Wilson, is grander, though more remote and less natural, than that in the ballad, which imputes the severity of the pursuit to his thirst to revenge the death of his cornet and kinsman, at Drumclog;[A] and to the quarrel betwixt Claverhouse and Monmouth, it ascribes, with great _naiveté_ the bloody fate of the latter. Local tradition is always apt to trace foreign events to the domestic causes, which are more immediately in the narrator's view. There is said to be another song upon this battle, once very popular, but I have not been able to recover it. This copy is given from recitation.