Bothwell Bridge, Battle of, Scotland, 1679 -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Scotland -- History -- 1660-1688 -- Fiction; War stories
As Lord Evandale spoke, the van of the insurgents began to make their
appearance on the road which crossed the top of the hill, and thence
descended opposite to the Tower. They did not, however, move downwards,
as if aware that, in doing so, their columns would be exposed to the fire
of the artillery of the place. But their numbers, which at first seemed
few, appeared presently so to deepen and concentrate themselves, that,
judging of the masses which occupied the road behind the hill from the
closeness of the front which they presented on the top of it, their force
appeared very considerable. There was a pause of anxiety on both sides;
and, while the unsteady ranks of the Covenanters were agitated, as if by
pressure behind, or uncertainty as to their next movement, their arms,
picturesque from their variety, glanced in the morning sun, whose beams
were reflected from a grove of pikes, muskets, halberds, and battle-axes.
The armed mass occupied, for a few minutes, this fluctuating position,
until three or four horsemen, who seemed to be leaders, advanced from the
front, and occupied the height a little nearer to the Castle. John
Gudyill, who was not without some skill as an artilleryman, brought a gun
to bear on this detached group.
"I'll flee the falcon,"--(so the small cannon was called,)--"I'll flee
the falcon whene'er your honour gies command; my certie, she'll ruffle
their feathers for them!"
The Major looked at Lord Evandale.
"Stay a moment," said the young nobleman, "they send us a flag of truce."
In fact, one of the horsemen at that moment dismounted, and, displaying a
white cloth on a pike, moved forward towards the Tower, while the Major
and Lord Evandale, descending from the battlement of the main fortress,
advanced to meet him as far as the barricade, judging it unwise to admit
him within the precincts which they designed to defend. At the same time
that the ambassador set forth, the group of horsemen, as if they had
anticipated the preparations of John Gudyill for their annoyance,
withdrew from the advanced station which they had occupied, and fell back
to the main body.
The envoy of the Covenanters, to judge by his mien and manner, seemed
fully imbued with that spiritual pride which distinguished his sect. His
features were drawn up to a contemptuous primness, and his half-shut eyes
seemed to scorn to look upon the terrestial objects around, while, at
every solemn stride, his toes were pointed outwards with an air that
appeared to despise the ground on which they trode. Lord Evandale could
not suppress a smile at this singular figure.
"Did you ever," said he to Major Bellenden, "see such an absurd
automaton? One would swear it moves upon springs--Can it speak, think
you?"
"O, ay," said the Major; "that seems to be one of my old acquaintance, a
genuine puritan of the right pharisaical leaven.--Stay--he coughs and
hems; he is about to summon the Castle with the but-end of a sermon,
instead of a parley on the trumpet."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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