The Three Perils of Man; or, War, Women, and Witchcraft, Vol. 2 (of 3)Hogg, James
History
The Three Perils of Man; or, War, Women, and Witchcraft, Vol. 2 (of 3)
Hogg, James
Historical fiction; Scotland -- History -- Robert II, 1371-1390 -- Fiction
The warden smiled; and calling out all the men of the families he had
named, he put such of them as had horses under the command of my father.
Of these there were forty-seven, so that our troop consisted of fifty
men in all. We were joined with the Elliots; but Habby having ninety men
of his own name, the command of the horse devolved on him, and my father
was only looked on as the second. I didna like this unco weel; but it
coudna be helped, and I was glad to be in the field ony way.
The first sight we got o' the English was frae the top o' Penchrist; but
a' that day we could only ken where they were by the reek they were
raising. My blood boiled when I saw them burning the houses o' Scotsmen,
and fain wad I hae had a hand-shaking wi' them.
There was ae message came after another a' that day. The Kers had been
beat and chased across the river, and the English host had over-run
their territory. Our chief didna seem to care for that sae muckle as I
thought, nor wad he stir his foot till they crossed the Rule. There war
mae men came in every hour, for the beacons were a' bleezing; and as
soon as the English set foot on the territory of the middle marches,
away we rade straight to meet them.
It was on the hill of Hawthornside where I first saw the face o' an
enemy; and I'll never forget sic queer strummings as I had within me.
Oh, I wad fain hae been at them! There was a kind o' yeuk, a kind o'
kittling, a sort o' prinkling in my blood like, that I fand wadna be
cured but by the slap o' a sword or the point o' a spear. Instead o'
being feared for a wound, I wad hae gi'en my horse and light armour
baith to have had a good prodd frae an Englishman,--but I wad hae liket
that the warden had seen me.
We kept the hills between them and the border wi' our horse, but the
foot kept the straits to the westward. Forbye the Elliots, and my
father's troop o' Potts, and Olivers, and skrae-shankit Laidlaws, the
warden had three hundred Scotts on horseback; so that in all he had
short o' five hundred horse, and about eight hundred foot. At the head
o' his horse he rade straight up to the faces o' the English, and
challenged them in our king's name to tell their business in that place.
Up came an English knight, Sir Robert Neville of Ravensworth, and he
crackit baith proudly and saucily, but I didna ken weel what he said. He
threatened no to leave a beast or a body atween Borthwick and the
Border. Our captain was as crouse as the other, sae there was nothing
but ill blude atween them; but the thing that we likit warst of a' was
the certainty that he had eight thousand men, being just sax for our
ane.
The warden then held a council o' friends upon the top of the hill, and
in view of the English host. Some said ae thing and some said another to
him; but at length he turned to my father, and he says, "What says our
cousin Walter o' Eskdale to a' this? But I needna speer that,--he never
gae me aught but ae advice a' his life."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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