Scotland was heartily sick of war, and learnt with consternation of the arrival of this firebrand. Lesly was sent forward with four thousand men to attack Montrose's five hundred! Colonel Strachan led the advanced guard, which fell unexpectedly upon the invading army, and, after a brief, fierce struggle, totally defeated it.
Montrose, disguised as a peasant, entrusted his life to one he believed to be his friend, M'Leod, Laird of Assaint. But this unworthy man betrayed him to his bitterest enemy, General Lesly. Thus, at last, this brilliant commander was in the hands of the bitter Covenanters, into whose hearts his brilliant victories had once spread such terror. Their treatment of him is a black stain upon their memory. For days he was led about in the peasant's disguise, which he had put on; he was carted through the streets of Edinburgh, accompanied by such insults that the populace cried shame upon his captors.
When tried before the Scottish Parliament for treason, he made a most eloquent defence, one of the most notable of his assertions being that he had never stained his victories by slaughtering his foes in cold blood after the battle. In this he was far above his enemies, who had disgraced their victory of Philiphaugh by many an execution, and who were now bent upon taking the life of Montrose himself. The sentence against him was probably decided before his defence had been heard; it ran thus:—
"That James Graham should next day be carried to Edinburgh cross and there hanged on a gibbet 30 feet high for the space of three hours; then to be taken down, his head to be struck off on a scaffold and affixed to the prison; his arms and legs to be stuck up on the four chief towns of the Kingdom, his body to be buried in the place set aside for common criminals."
To this sentence the great Marquis haughtily replied that he would rather have his head so placed than his picture in the King's bedchamber, and that he wished he had limbs enough to be dispersed into all the cities of Christendom, to prove his dying attachment to his king. And in the one evening of life that still remained to him, this accomplished and fearless nobleman employed his time in turning these loyal sentiments into verse.
Despite the fact that he triumphed undaunted over all the mean inventions of their malice, his enemies persisted to the end.
The executioner tied mockingly round his neck the book that had been published describing his victories; Montrose thanked him, saying that he wore it with more pride than he had ever worn the garter of honour. He uttered a short prayer; then asking them what more indignities they had prepared for him, he patiently and with unbroken spirit yielded his life to the hangman, at the too early age of thirty-eight.
Whatever opinions we may have as to the rights and wrongs of the quarrel, this brutal killing of a gallant soldier and accomplished gentleman can only rank as a hideous blot upon all concerned in it. Every insult hurled at Montrose has returned in the verdict of time with redoubled force against the malice of those who stooped to such vindictiveness. The execution of a soldier who has violated no rule of war is at any time a thing that revolts the human conscience, and a sentence hoarse with the vile taunts of its utterers has so far lost all semblance of justice that it is needless to argue upon it.
In the verdict of history, the great Marquis of Montrose, whether right or wrong in his political views, lived and died like a man of honour.
The ballad of the "Gallant Grahams," written about this time, reflects very sincerely and touchingly the devotion and affection surrounding the great Marquis, accompanied by the very Scottish feeling that in addition to his own personal power and genius, he was also the head of the great Border family of Grahams.