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prescribing the following form of oath to be taken by all persons who should be required to do so by any lawful authority :
"I, A. B., do hereby abhor, renounce, and disown, in the presence of the Al mighty God, the pretended declaration of war lately affixed at several parish churches, in so far as it declares a war against his sacred Majesty, and asserts that it is lawful to kill such as serve his Majesty in Church, State, army, or country.
This oath being taken, a certificate was to be delivered to the party taking it, which was to operate as a free pass and protection. Of the treasonable nature of the declaration it is impossible to entertain a doubt, and the refusal to take the Oath of Abjuration was, in fact, precisely equivalent to a plea of guilty to an indictment for high treason. The proceeding, it is true, was summary, and liable to abuse. The law was harsh; but the country was in open rebellion, and Claverhouse was no more censurable for carrying the laws into execution, than a judge would be who should sentence to death a person who pleaded guilty at the bar of the Old Bailey. Here, then, we arrive at last at the true history of John Brown, the Christian carrier, the man represented by Lord Macaulay as of" singular piety, versed in divine things, blameless in life, and so peaceable that even the tyrants could find no fault with him, except that he absented himself from the public worship of the Episcopalians." His peaceableness_was shown by his being in arms at Bothwell; his piety by shouting, "No quarter for the enemies of the Covenant"-by rallying round the gibbet and the ropes prepared for the "bloody militiamen and malignant troopers," over whom the Lord would have given His chosen people an easy victory, but for their "stepping aside" in sparing the five "brats of Babel" at Drumclog-and by providing a secure hiding-place for men and arms, to be used for future slaughter.
Rebellion is a dangerous and desperate game, which, as has often been remarked, requires success to
justify it, not unlike the sport which, "the story runs," a certain English traveller in the south of France declined to share, in words memorable for good sense and bad French,-" Je n'aime pas la chasse au loup parceque, si vous ne tuez pas le loup, le loup tue vous."
The Christian Carrier played and lost. If he had won, he and his comrades would have hanged Claverhouse and his dragoons in cold blood, and gloried in the act; and it is rather unfair to canonise him because he met a more merciful death at the hands of those for whom he had prepared a gibbet and a halter.
It may perhaps be urged that the despatch of Claverhouse does not in terms negative the account given by Walker and Wodrow of the conversation between Claverhouse and the widow of John Brown. This is true; but it appears improbable that Claverhouse should have detailed with so much particularity what took place, and have noticed the unconcerned manner in which Brown met his fate, and yet have omitted all notice of so remarkable a scene, if it had, in fact, taken place. It is impossible that he could have passed over without observation any symptoms of mutiny, or even of unwillingness to execute his orders, on the part of his troops. Here, then, is a distinct contradiction to the most important part of Wodrow's story; and the total suppression by both Wodrow and Walker of all that relates to John Brownen, the nephew, to the discovery of the "bullets, match, and treasonable papers" in the house of John Brown, and of the place of concealment and arms in the "house in the bill under ground," throws the greatest possible suspicion on the rest of both narratives. The simple account given by Claverhouse, therefore, disposes at once of the absurd story of the dragoons having refused to obey orders, and renders the poetical and fanciful additions of both those very apocryphal writers, to say the least, highly improbable. The death of John Brown was simply a military execution. He might be
* WODROW, ii. App. 158.
sincere and honest-so was Thistlewood; he might be bold, and meet death unconcernedly-so did Brunt. John Brown was a fanatic of the
same class. His courage was upheld by religious and political enthusiasm. He was one of thousands who, in those days, were equally prepared to commit the most savage atrocities, or to endure the most terrible extremities, secure, as they thought, of the approbation of the God of mercy, of the crown of martyrdom, and the joys of paradise.
upon the street, by a shot from the castle. I went immediately and examined the guard, who denied point-blank that there had been any shot from thence. I went and heard the bailie take de
positions of men that were looking on, who declared upon oath that they saw the shot from the guard-hall, and the horse immediately fall. I caused also search for the bullet in the horse's head, which was found to be of their calibre. After that I found it so clear, I caused seize upon him who was ordered by the sergeant in his absence to command the guard, and keep him prisoner till he find out the man, which I suppose will be found himself. name is James Ramsay, an Angus-man, who has formerly been a lieutenant of business; for, besides the wrong the poor man has got in losing his horse, it is extremely against military discipline to fire out of a guard. I have appointed the poor man to be here to-morrow, and bring with him some neighbours to declare the worth of the horse; and have assured
Whether the oppressions of the Government justified the rebellion of the Covenanters, or whether the outrages committed by the Cove- horse, as I am informed. It is an ugly
nanters justified the severities of the Government, are matters which we are not now called upon to discuss. They in no degree affect the question as regards the character of Claverhouse. It would be as reasonable to hold Sir John Moore or
Massena answerable for the justice and morality of their respective sides in the war of the Peninsula, as to hold Claverhouse responsible for the policy of the Government he served.
We have bestowed so much space upon an examination of this particular charge that we have none left to follow Claverhouse through his gallant career to its brilliant close. We must content ourselves with one or two instances of his conduct during his command in the west, which seem to us wholly to disprove the view of his character taken by Lord Macaulay, and to remove the dark stains which Sir Walter Scott supposed to have existed.
In the early part of the year 1679, Claverhouse was stationed at Dumfries. Not Wellington himself could be more sedulous in suppressing outrage and maintaining discipline amongst his troops than we find this "chief of Tophet" to have been.
On the 6th of January he thus writes to the commander-in-chief:
"On Saturday night when I came back here, the sergeant who commands the dragoons in the castle came to me; and while he was here, they came and told me there was a horse killed just by
* NAPIER'S Memoirs of Dundee. VOL. LXXXVIIL-NO. DXXXVIII.
him to satisfy him, if the captain, who is to be here also to-morrow, refuse to do it." *
Again, he hears complaints that, before his command had commenced, some of the dragoons had taken free quarters in the neighbourhood of Moffat; this, he remarks, was no charge against him, as the facts had occurred before he came into that part of the country, but he immediately institutes an inquiry. "I begged them," he says, to forbear till the captain and I should come there, when they should be redressed in everything. Your lordship will be pleased not to take any notice of this till I have informed myself upon the place." It is a curious illustration of the perversion of language and of diversity of character, that at the very time when that "worthy gentleman," Hackston of Rathillet, inspired by zeal for the cause of God," was butchering the Archbishop on Magus Muir, "Bloody Claver'se" was delaying the march of his prisoners in consideration of the illness of one of them, a conventicle preacher of the name of Irwin. He thus writes to the commander-inchief on the 21st April 1679:—“I was going to have sent in the other
prisoners, but amongst them there is one Mr Francis Irwin, an old infirm man, who is extremely troubled with the gravel, so that I will be forced to delay for five or six days." He again apologises for the delay, on the same ground, on the 6th of May, three days after the murder of the Archbishop. This man, so considerate of the sufferings of his prisoners, Lord Macaulay would fain have his readers believe to have been a "chief of Tophet, of violent temper and of obdurate heart." The kindliness of his disposition breaks out repeatedly in his correspondence. With the murder of Magus Muir, the slaughter of Drumclog, and the high gallows and new ropes of Bothwell fresh in his memory, he can yet write,-"I am as sorry to see a man die, even a Whig, as any of themselves; but when one dies justly, and for his own faults, and may save a hundred to fall in the like, I have no scruple."
Again, in 1682, he writes
"The first thing I mind to do, is to fall to work with all that have been in the rebellion, or accessory thereto by giving men, money, or arms; and next, resetters; and after that, field conventicles. For what remains of the laws against the fanatics, I will threaten much, but forbear severe execution for a while; for fear people should grow desperate, and increase too much the number of our enemies."
On the 1st of March 1682, commenting upon what was occurring in other parts of the country, he says
"The way that I see taken in other places is to put laws severely against great and small in execution, which is very just; but what effects does that produce but to exasperate and alienate the hearts of the whole people? For it renders three desperate where it gains one; and your lordship knows that in the greatest crimes it is thought wisest to pardon the multitude and punish the ringleaders, where the number of the guilty is great, as in this case of whole countries. Wherefore I have taken another course here.'
Writing at the end of the same year, and giving an account of his stewardship to the Privy Council, he thus reports the success of his just and merciful experiment :
"It may now be said that Galloway is not only as peaceable but as regular as any part of the country on this side Tay. And the rebels are reduced without blood, and the country brought to obedience and conformity to the Church government without severity or extortion; few heritors being fined, and that but gently, and under that none is or are to be fined but two or three in a parish; and the authority of the Church is restored in that country, and the ministers in safety. If there were bonds once taken of them for regularity hereafter, and some few were put in garrison, which may all be done in a few months, that country may be secure a long time both to King and Church." +
The biographer of Locheil has a passage which it would have been well if Lord Macaulay had considered before hazarding the charge of profanity against Claverhouse. Speaking of the high sense of honour and fidelity to his word by which Dundee was distinguished, he says
"That it proceeded from a principle of religion, whereof he was strictly observant; for besides family worship, performed regularly evening and morning in his house, he retired to his closet at certain hours, and employed himself in that duty. This I affirm upon the testimony of several that lived in his neighbourhood in Edinburgh, where his him to be; and particularly from a office of privy councillor often obliged Presbyterian lady who lived long in the story or house immediately below his lordship's, and who was otherways so rigid in her opinions, that she could not believe a good thing of any person of his persuasion till his conduct rectified her mistake. . . . His lordship continued the same course in the army; and though somewhat warm upon occasions in his temper, yet he never was heard to swear." +
The same writer thus sums up the character of Dundee :
Memoirs of Locheil, 278, 279. It is a remarkable confirmation of this somewhat peculiar characteristic of Claverhouse, that Crookshank, who records the oaths of Westerraw, Lagg, and others, with peculiar gusto, never, as far as we have observed, attributes such expressions to Claverhouse.
"He seemed formed by Heaven for great undertakings, and was, in an eminent degree, possessed of all those qualities that accomplish the gentleman, the statesman, and the soldier. He was, in his private life, rather parsimonious than profuse, and observed an exact economy in his family. But in the King's service he was liberal and generous to every person but himself, and freely bestowed his own money in buying provisions to his army: and to sum up his character in two words, he was a good Christian, an indulgent husband, an accomplished gentleman, an honest statesman, and a brave soldier."*
Such is the portrait of Dundee, painted by the grandson and biographer of the heroic Cameron of Locheil, "the Ulysses of the Highlands," a writer cotemporary with Wodrow, and to whom Lord Macaulay makes frequent reference. How happens it that he has overlooked the testimony of what he himself justly calls these "singularly interesting memoirs" ? §
We are compelled, by want of further space, to terminate our remarks. We quit the subject with regret. The character of Dundee is
one over which we would fain linger.
In days notorious for profligacy there was no stain on his domestic the almost universal treachery of its morality-in an age infamous for public men, his fidelity was pure and inviolate. His worst enemies have never denied him the possession of the most undaunted courage, and military genius of the highest order. He was generous, brave, and gentle, -a cavalier "sans peur et sans reproche;" and as long as the summer sun shall pour his evening ray through the dancing birch-trees and thick copsewood down to those dark pools where the clear brown waters of the Garry whirl in deep eddies round the footstool of Ben Vrackie, so long will every noble heart swell at the recollection of him whose spirit fled, with his fading beam, as he set on the last victory of "Ian dhu nan Cath," of him who died the death which the God of Battles reserves for His best and most favoured sons, alike on sea or mountain, on the blue wave of Trafalgar, or the purple heather of Killiecrankie.
MAC., iii. 321.
* Memoirs of Locheil, 273-279. Wodrow's History was published in 1722. The Memoirs of Locheil were written some time before 1737. The exact date cannot be ascertained. See Preface, p. xlix.
§ MAC. iii. 321.
THE PURSUIT OF TANTIA TOPEE.
It was lately remarked by a London journal," Our national life is now very different to what it was in those 'piping times of peace,' during the administration of Lord Melbourne, Sir Robert Peel, and Lord John Russell. In those days the heroes of our InIdian victories would have been the lions of a succession of seasons, and the battles of Oude or the Mahratta country would have been celebrated in every form.
"It may be said, with truth, that the two campaigns in Affghanistan were more studied and talked about than all the deeds by which our Indian empire has been saved.
"Perhaps if the present peaceable disposition of the European potentates last, and England has time to revert to former occurrences, the great exploits of the late war will receive the attention due to them as the most extraordinary historical events of our own time. The courage with which a handful of Europeans stood at bay among millions of enemies, and the energy with which the mother country placed a hundred thousand men on Asiatic soil, and crushed the insurrection in little more than six months, deserve all the fame that historian or poet can give them."
The struggles at Delhi and in Oude have found several narrators. The brilliant campaign of Sir Hugh Rose in Central India has also not been left unrecorded. It is of the pursuits after Tantia Topee, subsequent to the capture of Gwalior, and which form the sequel to Sir Hugh Rose's campaign, that we propose now giving a sketch. This campaign comprised operations of a totally different character from those which were going on in Oude. Lord Clyde had to conquer that country by sheer force of arms. The whole population was against him. The native army held every fort and every pass, and forts are as common in Oude as church-steeples in England. It was by the slow advance of parallel columns, each of which brought siege-guns along with them, that they were driven from stronghold to stronghold, and from
jungle to jungle, till the miserable remnant found refuge in the boundless forests of Nepaul. Tantia Topee and his followers, on the contrary, had nothing to do with forts-like the Douglas of old, they liked better to hear the lark sing than the mouse squeak. They had no district to defend, but wandered about an immense territory ruled by independent chiefs, whose soldiers only waited for fortune to show any signs of turning in favour of the rebels, to join their standard, and force their employers (nothing loth in some instances) to head the movement. The rebels had every quality required in soldiers for such a roving commission, except courage, and in that they were not altogether deficient, if their leaders had known how to evoke it. At any rate, the British officers found no difficulty in making their countrymen in the Bombay infantry follow them up to the muzzles of Tantia's guns. No troops in the world could endure so much fatigue, sleep so well on the hard ground, or do without sleep at all, and be content with so little food. The cavalry were well mounted, and light weights; the infantry had a number of hardy ponies to help them in long marches. All were well armed from British arsenals.
The troops of the Malwa and Rajpootana divisions in which the campaign was carried on, applied themselves resolutely to exterminate their slippery foe. They fought sixteen actions, and wrested guns from him when fighting as one to twenty. No respite was given him to establish a footing in the country-wherever he led, the British troops followed, throug hmuddy plains or sandy deserts, across broad rivers or mountainranges. Parties of the 83d Regiment and 12th Native Infantry marched thirty and fifty miles into action under an Indian sun. Captain Clowes's troop of the 8th Hussars marched altogether more than two thousand four hundred miles. The rebels themselves only disappeared as an organised body, after their weary trail had covered three thousand miles.