Montrose (his signature)
THE GREAT MARQUIS OF MONTROSE.
From a rare contemporary print in possession of W. F. Watson Esqr. Edinr.
Before mounting the vehicle brought for his reception, Montrose was ordered by the hangman to uncover his head; but as the mandate was not immediately attended to, that abhorred instrument of the law enforced his command with his own hands. He thereupon made Montrose go into the cart, and placing him on a high chair fixed upon a small platform raised at the end of the cart, he pinioned his arms close to his sides by means of cords, which being passed across his breast, and fastened behind the vehicle, kept him so firmly fixed as to render his body immoveable. The other prisoners, who were tied together in pairs, having been marshalled in front of the cart in walking order and uncovered, the hangman, clothed in his official attire, mounted one of the horses[402] attached to the cart, and the procession thereupon moved off at a slow pace up the Canongate, in presence of thousands of spectators, who lined the long street, and filled the windows of the adjoining houses. Among the crowd which thronged the street to view the mournful spectacle was a great number of the inferior classes of the community, chiefly females, who had come with the determined intention of venting abuse upon the fallen hero, and pelting him, as he proceeded along the street, with dirt, stones, and other missiles, incited thereto by the harangues of the ministers on occasion of the late fast; but they were so overawed by the dignity of his demeanour, and the undaunted courage of soul which he displayed, that their feelings were at once overcome, and instead of covering him with reproaches, they dissolved into tears of pity at the sight of fallen greatness, and invoked the blessings of heaven upon the head of the illustrious captive. A result so totally unlooked-for, could not be but exceedingly displeasing to the enemies of Montrose, and particularly to the ministers, who, on the following day (Sunday), denounced the conduct of the people from the pulpits of the city, and threatened them with the wrath of heaven.
But displeasing as the humane reception of Montrose was to the clergy, it must have been much more mortifying to Argyle, his mortal enemy, who, contrary to modern notions of decency and good feeling, surrounded by his family and the marriage party of his newly-wedded son, Lord Lorn, appeared publicly on a balcony in front of the Earl of Moray’s house[403] in the Canongate, from which he beheld undaunted the great Montrose, powerless now to do him personal harm. To add to the insult, either accidentally or on purpose, the vehicle which carried Montrose was stopped for some time beneath the place where Argyle and his party stood, so that they were able to take a leisurely view of the object of their hate and fear, and it would appear that they took advantage of their fallen foe’s position to indulge in unseemly demonstrations of triumph and insult. For the sake of humanity and the honour of tender-hearted woman, we would fain disbelieve the statement that the Marchioness of Argyle had the effrontery to vent her hatred toward the fallen enemy of her house by spitting upon him. Whatever were the inward workings of Montrose’s soul, he betrayed no symptoms of inquietude, but preserved, during this trying scene, a dignified demeanour which is said to have considerably discomposed his triumphant rival and his friends.
Although the distance from the Water Gate to the prison was only about half a mile, yet so slow had the procession moved, that it was almost seven o’clock in the evening before it reached the prison. When released from the cart Montrose gave the hangman some money for his services in having driven so well his “triumphal chariot,”[404] as he jocularly termed the cart. On being lodged in jail, he was immediately visited by a small committee appointed by the parliament, which had held an extraordinary meeting at six o’clock in the evening. Balfour says, that the object of the committee, which consisted of three members and two ministers, was to ask “James Grahame if he had any thing to say, and to show him that he was to repair to the house to receive his sentence.” The house remained sitting till the return of the deputation, who reported that Montrose had refused to answer any of the questions put to him till he was informed upon what terms they stood with the king, and whether they had concluded any agreement with him. In consequence of this information, the parliament delayed passing sentence till Monday the 20th of May; and, in the meantime, appointed seven of their members to wait upon the marquis and examine him on some points respecting “Duke Hamilton and others;” and to induce him to answer, the deputation was instructed to inform him, that an agreement had been concluded between the commissioners on the part of the estates and his majesty, who was coming to Scotland.[405] Montrose, however, excused himself from annoyance by stating, that as his journey had been long, and as “the ceremony and compliment they had paid him that day had been somewhat wearisome and tedious,” he required repose;[406] in consequence of which the deputation left him.
Montrose meant to have spent the whole of the following day, being Sunday, in devotional exercises suitable to his trying situation; but he was denied this consolation by the incessant intrusions of the ministers and members of parliament, who annoyed him by asking a variety of ensnaring questions, which he having refused to answer, they gave vent to the foulest reproaches against him. These insults, however, had no effect on him, nor did he show the least symptoms of impatience, but carried himself throughout with a firmness which no menaces could shake. When he broke silence at last, he said that “they were much mistaken if they imagined that they had affronted him by carrying him in a vile cart the day before; for he esteemed it the most honourable and cheerful journey he had ever performed in his life; his most merciful God and Redeemer having all the while manifested his presence to him in a most comfortable and inexpressible manner, and supplied him by his divine grace, with resolution and constancy to overlook the reproaches of men, and to behold him alone for whose cause he suffered.”[407]
Agreeably to the order of parliament, Montrose was brought up by the magistrates of Edinburgh on Monday at ten o’clock forenoon to receive sentence. As if to give dignity and importance to the cause for which he was about to suffer, and to show how indifferent he was to his own fate, Montrose appeared at the bar of the parliament in a superb dress which he had provided for the purpose, after his arrival in Edinburgh. His small clothes consisted of a rich suit of black silk, covered with costly silver lace, over which he wore a scarlet rochet which reached to his knee, and which was trimmed with silver galloons, and lined with crimson taffeta. He also wore silk stockings of a carnation colour, with garters, roses and corresponding ornaments, and a beaver hat having a very rich silver band.[408]
Having ascended “the place of delinquents,” a platform on which criminals received sentence, Montrose surveyed the scene before him with his wonted composure, and though his countenance was rather pale, and exhibited other symptoms of care, his firmness never for a moment forsook him. Twice indeed was he observed to heave a sigh and to roll his eyes along the house,[409] during the virulent invectives which the lord-chancellor (Loudon) poured out upon him, but these emotions were only the indications of the warmth of his feelings while suffering under reproaches which he could not resent.
The lord-chancellor, in rising to address Montrose, entered into a long detail of his “rebellions,” as he designated the warlike actions of Montrose, who, he said, had invaded his native country with hostile arms, and had called in Irish rebels and foreigners to his assistance. He then reproached Montrose with having broken not only the national covenant, which he had bound himself to support, but also the solemn league and covenant, to which the whole nation had sworn; and he concluded by informing Montrose, that for the many murders, treasons, and impieties of which he had been guilty, God had now brought him to suffer condign punishment. After the chancellor had concluded his harangue, Montrose requested permission to say a few words in his own vindication, which being granted, though not without some difficulty, he proceeded to vindicate his conduct, showing that it was the result of sincere patriotism and devoted loyalty.
“He had,” he said, “not spilt any blood, not even that of his most inveterate enemies, but in the field of battle; and that even in the greatest heat of action he had preserved the lives of many thousands; and that as he had first taken up arms at the command of the king, he had laid them down upon his orders, without any regard to his own interest, and had retired beyond the seas.