Great Britain -- History -- Stuarts, 1603-1714; Montrose, James Graham, Marquis of, 1612-1650
But even after these two warnings Montrose could not keep quiet. The
very opposite to Argyll on every side of his character, while the
latter bided the time that he foresaw must come with eyes and ears
ever open and tongue ever still, Montrose roamed restlessly about the
country between the army at Newcastle and his own home, talking wildly
to whomsoever would listen. The purpose of the burned Bond, Argyll's
dictatorship, his meditated attack on the royal authority,--he poured
all these dangerous secrets out to his comrade of the hour, careless
who he might be. Once he talked in this strain in the presence of
no less a person than old Leslie himself, as they were riding from
Chester to Newcastle with a Colonel Cochrane. The prudent Colonel did
not care for such talk in such company, and begged his rash lordship
to change the subject. There might have been more dangerous listeners
than Leslie, who was an honest man not given to making mischief, and,
so long as his pay was safe and he did his duty by his soldiers,
caring as little for one faction as the other. But it had been all
one with Montrose who was by to hear him. Everything was going wrong.
He could no longer trust the Covenant; he could not yet trust the
King. His associates in the Bond, with one or two exceptions, had made
their peace with the enemy. The Bond itself had been promptly burned,
and the wildest stories circulated of its language and purpose.[9]
Even among the more moderate Covenanters there were many who believed
these stories, and looked askance at Montrose as an ambitious,
unscrupulous, designing man, careless of his country and intent only
on his own ends. Conscious of the popular suspicions, chafing against
a false position from which he saw no present means of escape, uneasy,
discontented, doubtful where to turn and whom to trust--there could
be but one issue to the struggle between such a man in such a mood
and Argyll. Nor could the issue be far distant. Argyll had but to sit
still and wait. He could not play his game better than his rival was
playing it for him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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