II.—BRIGADIER MACKINTOSH OF BORLUM.
A VERY remarkable person was Brigadier Mackintosh, Laird of Borlum, and since he is destined to play a conspicuous part in our story, it may be proper to describe him.
The redoubted Laird of Borlum, then, was an old campaigner, having served in Holland years ago, in Ireland under James the Second, where he gained laurels, but little pay, and in France, where he had attained the rank of brigadier, which he still held. Devotedly attached to James the Second, on the death of that monarch, he had transferred all his loyalty to his son. The Chevalier de Saint George had no more zealous adherent than the brave Laird of Borlum.
Brigadier Mackintosh, when we first behold him, standing beside the Earl of Mar, who had quitted his elevated position on the rock to talk to him, could not be far from sixty. Yet despite the hardships he had undergone, he had few traces of age about him. His step was free, his glance piercing, his muscular power prodigious, and he could still run as fleetly, and endure as much fatigue as the youngest of his clan.
His personal appearance was very striking—features strongly marked and prominent, high cheek bones, a very firmly set mouth, and square chin. His eyes were grey and keen, and shaded by black brows, though his locks were blanched. His close-shaven cheeks were marked by many a scar.
The brigadier's expression was cautious, perhaps crafty, and sometimes so grim as to inspire terror. But on occasions his habitual sternness disappeared, and gave way to a winning bonhomie. Though a rigorous disciplinarian, he had always been liked by those who served under him. His enemies said that the brigadier did not object to plunder, and that his maxim was that war should pay its own expenses; but this was a principle pretty generally recognised by the Highlanders of the period.
“Why have you kept aloof, brigadier?” asked the earl.
“Because your lordship has others of mair importance to attend to than an auld trooper, who has only his sword to offer you.”
“Hout awa! your sword is worth a thousand men, brigadier, and that ye ken fu' weel. You are the man of all others I must have with me, heart and hand.”
“I am a man of few words as your lordship kens—I am ready to do your bidding.”
“Aweel then, your kinsman, Colonel Mackintosh, has promised to raise a regiment of six or seven hundred Highland men.”
“And so wad I, if I could only find the callants. But they are few and far to seek at Borlum.”
“What say you to taking the command of the Clan Chattan?”
“That belongs to our chief, unless——”
“He chooses to resign it to another, and I approve his choice. Will you take it?”
“Gladly,” replied the brigadier, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “Is this a' your lordship has to say to me, at present?”
“Ye are in a confounded hurry,” cried the earl, detaining him. “Hear me to an end.”
“My lord, I am all attention.”
“When all our forces have assembled, a strong detachment, to consist of five or six regiments, will be sent south to march with the Lowlanders and the Northumbrian insurgents to London. You shall command the detachment. If any man can make a rapid march, you can, brigadier. Long before you reach London, you will have a considerable army, for you are certain to receive large reinforcements in every county through which you pass—especially in Lancashire and Cheshire. You will, therefore, be able to give battle to all the forces the Hanoverian usurper can bring against you. Win that battle and the crown is gained for the prince.”
The brigadier drew his broadsword and kissed the hilt.
“I swear to devote myself to this enterprise!” he cried. “Turn back who may, I never will!”
Thereupon he bowed and retired, looking greatly elated.
III.—HOW THE STANDARD WAS SET UP, AND KING JAMES PROCLAIMED AT CASTLETOWN.
SHORTLY afterwards the whole party proceeded to the castle, where a grand banquet awaited them.
Even more wine was drunk on this occasion than on the previous day, and the company vied with each other in demonstrations of loyalty.
But the crowning act, that was to confound their enemies and confirm their friends, took place on the following day. The whole party assembled after breakfast, but without hounds or huntsmen.
A dozen sturdy bagpipers made the court ring with their shrill strains, announcing that the Earl of Mar was about to proceed to Castletown, which was not more than a mile off, attended by all the nobles and chiefs, and all their vassals and retainers, to set up the standard and proclaim King James.
The principal personages were on horseback—the rest on foot. At the head of the cavalcade was the Earl of Mar, and on his right rode Lord Charles Murray, who carried the standard.
The standard, which made a very splendid appearance, and excited general admiration, was of blue satin, embroidered on one side with the arms of Scotland in gold. On the other side was a thistle, underneath which were the words, “No Union.”
Pendants of white ribbon were attached to the banner: one of them bore the inscription, “For our wronged king and oppressed country;” the other, “For our lives and liberties.”
The pipers marched on in advance, playing vigorously.
The morning was fine, but gusty, and Craigendarroch seemed to frown upon them. Several Highlanders joined the party as they marched on, and some old men, barelegged women, young girls, and children followed at a distance. But there were few inhabitants in that wild region.
On reaching Castletown, the cavalcade rode into the market-place, where all the townsfolk were assembled, and the pipers, who had marched in first and taken up a good position, played with redoubled vigour, while the standard was set up on the market-cross.
A loud shout was then raised by the whole concourse, after which silence was authoritatively enjoined, and, a trumpet being sounded, the Earl of Mar read the proclamation in a loud clear voice that vibrated through every breast.
“By the decease of the late King James the Seventh, the imperial crown of these realms has lineally descended to his lawful heir and son our sovereign James the Eighth, and we the lords and others do accordingly declare him to be the lawful king over Scotland, England, and Ireland. We are bound by unalienable right to his family and person, and it is to be lamented that our fundamental constitution has been destroyed by factions. The unhappy Union of Scotland and England is also to be deeply lamented—with many other matters, such as the bringing in a foreign prince unacquainted with British planners, customs, and language—the support of his designs by foreign troops—and the contempt with which the military services of British troops are treated. We are determined to resort to the last extremities in order to remedy these grievances, and have our laws, liberties, and properties secured by the Parliaments of both kingdoms. In conclusion, we hope that, undisturbed by a Usurper's interests and council from abroad, or by a restless faction at home, the blessing and aid of Heaven will be extended to the succour of the Royal Family of Stuart and their country from sinking under oppression.”
The foregoing manifesto produced a very powerful effect, and the whole assemblage, having listened to it with profound attention, were about to give vent to their feelings, when a circumstance occurred that filled them all with superstitious terror.
By a sudden and violent gust, the silken banner was rent, and the gilded ball blown from the point of the spear, and, falling at the feet of Mar's horse, caused the animal to rear.
The greatest consternation was occasioned by this inauspicious occurrence.
Nothing but blanched faces were seen around, and the shouts died away on every lip. Men shook their heads, and said it was ominous of ill, and even Mar himself was not free from uneasiness.
“When King Charles the First's standard was blown down at Nottingham,” observed Lord Charles Murray to Brigadier Mackintosh, “it was thought to presage ill. What does this signify?”
The brigadier made no answer, but looked very grave.
The ill-omened incident cast a gloom over the party, from which they did not recover as long as they stayed together.
On quitting Castletown, the nobles and chiefs took leave of their host, and departed each to his respective home, to get together his men, and make all needful preparations for taking the field.
Subsequently, King James was proclaimed at divers other places, and once again by the Earl of Mar at Kirk-michael, near Dumfries.
Meanwhile, the whole of the Highlands were literally in a flame—-the Fiery Cross having been sent round in every direction to summon the clans. Such vassals as neglected the mandate of their chief conveyed by this terrible sign—a cross, dipped in blood, and burning—were liable to the penalty of fire and sword. Rarely was the summons disobeyed, and never unpunished, until the passing of the Clan Act by the Government.
Returning slowly from Dumfries, at the head of a thousand men—more than half of whom had joined him on the way—the Earl of Mar found his camp pitched by Colonel Hamilton and Clephane of Carslogie, in a beautiful situation on the side of the Tay.
Soon afterwards, such large reinforcements were brought him by the Earls of Strathern, Southesk, Marischal, and Panmure, that he found himself at the head of twelve thousand fighting men.
A most important achievement performed at this juncture by Colonel Hay gave additional éclat to the insurgents. This gallant officer had often boasted that he would capture Perth, and he now made good his word by surprising the garrison, and enabling Mar to occupy the city. Thenceforward Perth formed the head-quarters of the Scottish commander-in-chief.
Alarmed by the rapid progress of the rebellion, the Government of King George now began to take energetic measures for the repression of the outbreak. The Duke of Argyle hastened to Stirling, where troops were quickly concentrated, in order to keep the Highlanders in check, and prevent them from crossing the Forth.
All Scottish noblemen or gentlemen, actually in arms, or suspected of favouring the Pretender, were summoned to appear forthwith in Edinburgh, and find bail for their future good conduct. But very few surrendered themselves. Most of them were eager to take the field, and displeased that Mar did not give battle to Argyle, before further succours could reach him at Stirling.
The Scottish commander-in-chief hesitated, though Colonel Hay and others of his advisers remonstrated with him. He had just received a letter from Mr. Forster, praying him to send a couple of regiments to help them to make a rising in Northumberland. This request he was quite willing to grant—indeed, he did more than was asked. He immediately sent off the detachment, which he had prepared to march through England, under the command of Brigadier Mackintosh.