Preston Fight; or, The Insurrection of 1715Ainsworth, William Harrison
General
Preston Fight; or, The Insurrection of 1715
Ainsworth, William Harrison
Jacobite Rebellion, 1715 -- Fiction
Mackintosh looked equally angry, but felt it was useless to interfere.
“We shall be better prepared on some future day,” observed Forster.
“Never!” exclaimed the brigadier, contemptuously. “Never shall we be
better prepared than now! Never shall we have the enemy at greater
advantage!''
“At all events, let us stay where we are,” said Lord Derwentwater.
“General Carpenter will think we are retreating if we march to Hawick.”
“Nor will he be far wide of the truth if he does think so,” said
Mackintosh.
But these expressions of disapproval were entirely unheeded, and
the march to Hawick took place, greatly to the annoyance of Lord
Derwentwater.
Determined to reconnoitre the enemy, his lordship requested Captain
Gordon to accompany him, and set off with a small party of horse towards
the Yetholms.
Nothing occurred to indicate that the enemy were on the move till he
came within a couple of miles of Kirk-Yetholm, when from the brow of a
hill he distinguished their vanguard, and at once comprehended that a
part of the force, if not the whole, must be marching to Kelso.
Satisfied with what he had seen, and beginning to be of opinion
that General Carpenter would not have been so easily surprised as he
imagined, he turned back, and riding quickly, overtook the insurgent
army before it reached Hawick.
It afterwards appeared that the earl had narrowly escaped capture,
and that he and his companions were indebted for their escape to the
swiftness of their horses. Had he descended the hill whence he descried
the enemy, he must have been taken prisoner.
VI.--THE HIGHLANDERS REFUSE TO CROSS THE BORDER.
|Next day symptoms of revolt began to appear among the Highlanders, who
had been told by Lord Wintoun that if they went to England they would
infallibly be defeated by the superior force brought against them, and
would either be cut to pieces, taken prisoners and hanged, or sold as
slaves to the plantations.
Assembling on the Moot Hill, at the head of the town, they refused to
come down, even at the orders of their chief, and told him if they were
led against the enemy they would fight, but that they would not cross
the Border.
“Wherefore not?” he cried. “Why the devil are you afraid to fight the
Southrons on their aim ground? You are ready to meet them here, but not
south of the Solway Firth. Your pay is assured you, and it will be your
ain faut if ye dinna double it.”
“But they tell us we shall never come back,” rejoined the sergeant, who
acted as spokesman.
“Who tells you so?” demanded the brigadier.
“One who knows what he says, and wouldn't deceive us,” replied the
sergeant.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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