"I humbly think," said Lord Evandale, "that, go the day how it will, it must be a bloody one; and that we shall lose many brave fellows, and probably be obliged to slaughter a great number of these misguided men, who, after all, are Scotchmen and subjects of King Charles as well as we are."
"Rebels! rebels! and undeserving the name either of Scotchmen or of subjects," said Claverhouse; "but come, my lord, what does your opinion point at?"
"To enter into a treaty with these ignorant and misled men," said the young nobleman.
"A treaty! and with rebels having arms in their hands? Never while I live," answered his commander.
"At least send a trumpet and flag of truce, summoning them to lay down their weapons and disperse," said Lord Evandale, "upon promise of a free pardon—I have always heard, that had that been done before the battle of Pentland hills, much blood might have been saved."
"Well," said Claverhouse, "and who the devil do you think would carry a summons to these headstrong and desperate fanatics? They acknowledge no laws of war. Their leaders, who have been all most active in the murder of the Archbishop of St Andrews, fight with a rope round their necks, and are likely to kill the messenger, were it but to dip their followers in loyal blood, and to make them as desperate of pardon as themselves."
"I will go myself," said Evandale, "if you will permit me. I have often risked my blood to spill that of others, let me do so now in order to save human lives."
"You shall not go on such an errand, my lord," said Claverhouse; "your rank and situation render your safety of too much consequence to the country in an age when good principles are so rare.—Here's my brother's son Dick Grahame, who fears shot or steel as little as if the devil had given him armour of proof against it, as the fanatics say he has given to his uncle.
[Note: Cornet Grahame. There was actually a young cornet of the
Life-Guards named Grahame, and probably some relation of
Claverhouse, slain in the skirmish of Drumclog. In the old ballad on
the Battle of Bothwell Bridge, Claverhouse is said to have continued
the slaughter of the fugitives in revenge of this gentleman's death.
"Haud up your hand," then Monmouth said; "Gie quarters to these men
for me;" But bloody Claver'se swore an oath, His kinsman's death
avenged should be.
The body of this young man was found shockingly mangled after the
battle, his eyes pulled out, and his features so much defaced, that
it was impossible to recognise him. The Tory writers say that this
was done by the Whigs; because, finding the name Grahame wrought in
the young gentleman's neckcloth, they took the corpse for that of
Claver'se himself. The Whig authorities give a different account,
from tradition, of the cause of Cornet Grahame's body being thus
mangled. He had, say they, refused his own dog any food on the
morning of the battle, affirming, with an oath, that he should have
no breakfast but upon the flesh of the Whigs. The ravenous animal,
it is said, flew at his master as soon as he fell, and lacerated his
face and throat.
These two stories are presented to the reader, leaving it to him to
judge whether it is most likely that a party of persecuted and
insurgent fanatics should mangle a body supposed to be that of their
chief enemy, in the same manner as several persons present at
Drumclog had shortly before treated the person of Archbishop Sharpe;
or that a domestic dog should, for want of a single breakfast,
become so ferocious as to feed on his own master, selecting his body
from scores that were lying around, equally accessible to his
ravenous appetite.]
He shall take a flag of truce and a trumpet, and ride down to the edge of the morass to summon them to lay down their arms and disperse."