The moss-grown trees of the ancient orchard spread their faded foliage over them; behind rose the striking outline of the old manor-house, with its round projecting turrets and high-peaked gables glowing in the early rays of the sun, which streamed redly and aslant from the southern ridge of Arthur's Seat, lighting with a golden gleam the mirrored lake that rolled almost to the orchard wall. A light shower had fallen just before dawn, and everything was brightened and refreshed. The dew yet glittered on the waving branches and the bending grass, and white as snow the morning mists rolled heavily around the base of the verdant hills, or curled, in a thousand vapoury and beautiful forms, in the saffron glory of the rising sun. The dewy autumnal breeze was laden with balm and fragrance. The first fallen leaves rustled in the long grass; the corbies and wood-pigeons were wheeling aloft, and the swan and the heron floated on the still bosom of the loch.
Bright though the morning, and beautiful the scenery, the group assembled near Bruntisfield were thoughtful and reserved; any little chit-chat in which they had indulged while Lady Grisel was detailing the Duke of Hamilton's march for England in her younger days, died away, when the far-off notes of military music and the increasing hum in the city, announced that "they were coming."
"Hark!" said Lady Dunbarton, "now they are approaching. 'Tis by Lord Dundee's advice they march through the entire length of the city, from the Girth Cross to the Portsburgh, that their array may intimidate the false Whigs, who are hourly crowding in from all quarters."
Beneath where the ladies were seated, the roadway was thronged with cottars from the adjacent hamlets; and many an eye was turned wistfully to the road that wound by the western rhinns of the Loch towards the old baronial manor of the Lawsons, that on the Highriggs, as before mentioned, terminated the ancient suburb of Portsburgh. From thence a dense mass was seen debouching: the sound of the drum, and the sharper note of the trumpet, were heard at intervals, while pikes glittered, banners waved, and hoofs rang, and every heart beat quicker as the troops approached; for, even in our own matter-of-fact age, there are few sights more stirring than the departure of a regiment for foreign service; but then it was the entire regular force of the kingdom en masse on the march for another land. Dense crowds occupied the whole roadway; for though the Scottish government had few friends, all the idlers of the city were pouring forth from its southern gates.
England was still a foreign and rather hostile country, and London was "an unco and far-awa place" (much more so than Calcutta is now); and persons on their departure therefor received the condolences of their friends; on their return, were welcomed by joy and congratulation, and were regarded with wonder and interest like the ancient mariners who had doubled Cape Non. And thus the Edinburghers, according to their various hopes, fears, hates and wishes, regarded with unusual anxiety the departure of their countrymen.
Save our brave Highlanders, fifty-seven years afterwards, this was the last Scottish host that ever marched into England.
First came an advanced guard of Horse Grenadiers, who wore scarlet coats over their steel corslets, and had high fur caps; they were armed with long musquets, bayonets, and hammer-hatchets, and wore grenado-pouches on their left side, to balance the cartridge-boxes on the right.
Led by the Laird of Lundin, Master of the Ordnance, next came the train of artillery, with trumpets sounding and kettle-drums beating; the matrosses marching with shouldered pikes on each side of the polished brass cannon; the firemasters on horseback, distinguished by waving plumes and golden scarfs. Nearly sheathed in complete armour of Charles the First's time, four gentlemen-of-the-cannon rode on each side of the great flag gun, which was drawn by eight horses. The Scottish standards—one with St. Andrew's Cross, the other with the Lion, gules—were displayed from its carriage, on which sat two little kettle-drummers beating a march. It was followed by the gins, capstans, forge-waggons, and a troop of horse with their swords drawn.
Then the column of cavalry filed past; all fierce and select cavalier troopers, many of them inured to service by the civil wars of eight-and-twenty years. Claverhouse's Life Guardsmen, in their polished plate-armour, wearing white horse hair streaming from their helmets;—all were splendidly mounted, and rode with the butts of their carbines resting on their thighs. They were greeted by a burst of acclamation from the ladies, for these dashing horsemen were the Guardi Nobili, the Prætorian Band of Scotland. Douglas's regiment of Red-coat Horse, and the Earl of Dunmore's Dragoons, the Scots Greys in their janissary caps, buff coats, and iron panoply, brought up the rear.
Next came the infantry; the two battalions of the Fusilier Guards, clad in coats, breeches, and stockings, all of bright scarlet, with white scarfs and long feathers; the officers marching with half pikes, and the soldiers with lighted matches; the battalions of the Scots Musqueteers in their round morions and corslets of black iron; the Earl of Mar's Fusiliers, Wauchop's regiment, &c. &c., poured past in rapid and monotonous succession, till the rear-guard of Horse and a few pieces of artillery, with a long line of sumpter-horses, bidets, and peddies, or grooms, closed the rear.