CHAPTER XLVI.
THE FIGHT AT THE CALDONS.
Now that which follows is the telling of Toskrie Tam, who is now agardener at Afton, but who, in the old days, being bitten by the worldlydelight of soldiering, had ridden with Clavers and Lag in the tumultuoustimes. Tam is a long loose-jointed loon, for ever crying aboutrheumatism, but a truthteller (as indeed John Graham taught him to be),and one that his wife has in subjection. There is the root of the oldman in Tam yet. For though he is an elder now, oftentimes I have come onhim round a corner, using most uncovenanted language to his underlings.But he is a good gardener, and there is no service in being over gleg inthe hearing with such. Besides, his wife clours him soundly enough whenthere is need.
Somewhat after the following manner Tam told his tale, a trifleunwillingly at first, but warming with the recollection as he proceeded.
"Aweel, Sir William, gin ye insist. No that I like to be speakin' abootthae days; but as ye inform me that it is a' to be written doon, I'lltell ye it word for word. Weel, after the Conventiclers had outfaced usat the Shalloch-on-Minnoch, Clavers and Douglas rode south to theMinnoch Brig that looks to Loch Trool.
"'There's a dour pack o' Whigs up that glen,' says Clavers. 'Think ye wewill take a turn and steer them?'
"'They will just be hiving hame frae the conventicle. We shall catchthem as they run,' Douglas made answer.
"So without a word more, slack rein and go-as-you-please, we rode upGlen Trool. It was a bonny nicht and at a' times a bonny place, but thetrack was ill to keep, and we rode loose and scattering. Douglas wasfair foaming with the affront of the Shalloch, and vowed, as he hadoften vowed before, that he would never more spare hilt or hair of theaccursed breed.
"At the Caldons, a bit farmhouse set on a rig among trees at the foot ofLoch Trool, Gib Macaterick and I were riding on ahead down by thewater-side by the loch, when suddenly, without warning, we came on alittle cloud of men all on their knees praying behind a dyke back. Theywere so busy with the supplications that they did not notice us. And wethat looked for promotion over the head of the business, covered themwith our muskets and called to them to surrender for traitors andrebels. But in a trice they were over the dyke and at us like wild-cats,gripping our horses and tumbling us off. They got Gib down, but I thatwas suppler, managed to jook among the young oak-trees and run what Iwas fit back to the troop.
"Douglas was in command, for Clavers had ridden on. He was a wild manwhen I told him that the rebels had taken Gib Macaterick.
"'Curse you and him both!' Douglas cried. 'Do I command a set ofporridge-stuffed, baggy knaves that fall off their horses whenever theysee a Whig tyke skartin' for fleas? I'll tan Gib's hide for him andyours too, my man, when we come to the post. Ye shall ride the timberhorse with a bit musket at your heels to learn ye how siccarly to sityour beast.'
"Whereat he cried to wheel, and we went twos about down the Caldonsroad. The farm sits four square on a knowe-tap, compact withoffice-houses and mailings. There are the little three-cornered wicketsin the walls. As we came to the foot of the brae we found Gib Macaterickstelled up against the dyke, with his hands bound and a paper in histeeth--a printed copy of the Covenant. He was quite safe and sound. Butwhen we loosed him, he could do nothing but curse and splutter.
"'Thou foul-mouthed Whig,' cried Douglas, 'hast thou also been takingthe Covenant? Have him out and shoot him!'
"But Gib rose and made an end of the Covenant, by setting his foot uponit and crushing it into the sod. Then we moved forward, carelessly,thinking that the enemy would never stand against a troop, but that theywould at once scatter to the hill which rises steep and black at thegavel end of the house.
"However, when we came within sight of the steading, half a dozenmuskets cracked, and one of our company cried out with the pain of beinghit. Indeed, the second volley tumbled more than one trooper from hissaddle, and caused their horses to break ranks and run back, jinglingaccoutrements.
"So Colonel Douglas dismounted half his men, and sent the better part ofa troop, under the Cornet of the same name, round to the high side ofthe farm to take the Conventiclers in flank. Which with all success theydid, and came down at the charge upon the steadings, capturing half adozen, mostly young lads, that were there with muskets in their hands.But there was one that threw himself into the lake and swam under waterfor it. And though our soldiers shot off a power of powder after him, wecould get no satisfaction that he had been hit. We heard, however, thathe was a Carsphairn man and that the name of him was Roger Dunn.
"So Douglas ordered a dismounted file to lead the young lads out into adell a quarter of a mile from the house, where the noise of theshootings would not annoy him at his refreshment. So the Cornet tookthem out, well-pleased. For it was a job that suited him better thanfighting, and there, in a little green hollow, he speedily laid the sixfeatly in a row.
"'So perish all his Majesty's rebels!' said Colonel Douglas as he rodepast, bung full of brandy and good mutton ham.
"'That's as bonny a kill o' Whigs as we hae gotten for mony a day.Rothes will be pleased with this day's work!' said the Cornet.
"It was growing dark by the time that we drew up from the loch and itwas ill getting a guide. No one of us had ever been in the country, andthere is no wilder in all the south, as I have cause to know. But we hadnot got to any conclusion, when one came running with the news that hesaw a light. So we spurred on as briskly as we dared, not knowing butthat we might again hear the whistle of musket balls about our ears.
"It was the little farm of Esconquhan, and only old Sandy Gillespie andhis wife were at home--the lads no doubt being at the conventicle, or itmay be among those who had fought with us in the yard of the Caldons,and now lay quiet enough down in the copsewood at the loch foot.
"Sandy Gillespie of Esconquhan was a shrewd old fox enough, and answeredall Douglas's questions with great apparent readiness.
"'Hae you a Bible?' asked the Colonel.
"'Aye,' said Sandy, 'but it's gye and stoury. Reek it doon, guid wife! Imisdoot I dinna read it as often as I should--aiblins like yoursel',Colonel.'
"Very biddably, the wife reached it down out of the little black holeover the mantelshelf, and the Colonel laughed.
"'It is indeed brave and dusty. Man, I see you are no' a right Whig. Idoubt that bit book disna get hard wark!'
"Douglas's refreshment had made him more easy to deal with.
"'Nevertheless,' he continued, 'fettle on your blue bonnet and put us onthe road to Bongill, at the loch-head. For there is a great Whigamorethere of the name of Macmillan and he will no' get aff so easy. Iwarrant _his_ Bible is well-thumbed!'
"'I canna rin wi' ye on siccan a nicht, and deed the road's no' canny.But you red-coats fear neither God nor deil!' said Sandy Gillespiereadily.
"'Out on you, gangrel. Gin ye canna rin ye shall ride. Pu' the auldwretch up ahint ye,' said Douglas, ready to be angry as soon as he wascrossed, like all men in liquor.
"And so we went over the hillside very carefully--such a road as beastwas never set to gang on before.
"'Keep doon the swearin' as muckle ye can,' ordered Sergeant Murphy.'Lord, Lord, but this is heart-breaking!'
"Sandy Gillespie, canny man, tried to dissuade him from going to Bongillthat night. Which only made Douglas the more determined, thinking therewas something or some-body that he might light on there, and so getgreat credit to himself.
"'Gin the road be as dour, crooked, and coarse as the Cameronian's roadto heaven, I'll gang that road this night!' said Lag, who was pleasedwith the death of the six Whigs at the Caldons--though, as it might be,vexed that he had not been at the shooting himself.
"We were no more than clear of the loch-side path, when Douglas bade oldSandy tune his pipes to help the men along the easier road with a song.
"'A Whig's sang or a King's-man's sang?' asked the auld tod blythely.
"'Hoot, a Cavalier's song--what need hae we to tak' the Book here!'cried Douglas loudly.
"'More need th
an inclination!' said Claverhouse scornfully, who was nowriding beside them.
"Sandy Gillespie, who was an exceedingly far-seeing old worthy,pretended that he was loth to sing, whereat Douglas ordered him with anoath to sing upon peril of his life.
"So the old man struck up in a high piping voice, but none so ill intune:
'Our thistles flourished fresh and fair, And bonny bloomed our roses, But Whigs cam' like a frost in June, And withered a' oor posies.'
"As he went on the old man's voice grew louder, and in a little, halfthe command was cantily shouting the song, which indeed goes very wellto march to.
"'And there's Bongill,' cried Sandy, suddenly stopping and dropping offhis horse, 'an' guid e'en to ye!'
"And with that the old fellow slid off among the brush-wood and copse,and we saw no more of him--which perhaps was as well for him.
"When we went into the little house of Bongill, we found an open doorboth back and front. Peats were blazing on the hearth. Great dishes ofporridge sat on a table. Chairs and stools were overturned, and Biblesand Testaments lay everywhere.
"'Curse the old dog. He has sung them a' to the hill,' cried Douglas.'Have him out and shoot him.'
"But Sandy was not to be seen. Only from the hillside, a voice--the samethat had sung, 'Awa, Whigs, awa,' gave us 'Bonny Davie Leslie'; and thencried in mockery three times 'Good-night!'
"So the night being pit mirk and the hill unknown, we took up our abodeat Bongill till the morning. Sitting in the hole of the peat stack wefound a strange object, a crazy natural, shapeless and ill-looking.
"But some of the men who had seen his mother, knew him for the idiot sonof Corp-licht Kate, the Informer, of the Shiel of the Star. Douglasquestioned him, for sometimes these naturals have much shrewd wit.
"'How came ye to be here?'
"'Weel, ye see the way o't is this----'
"'Make a short story of it, if ye dinna want a bit o' lead through ye.'
"'A blaw of tobacco wad fit Gash Gibbie better--grand man in the reidcoatie!' said the natural, with a show of cunning. 'I cam' to theBongill i' the gloamin', an' faith the mistress would hae gien me a bed,but there was a horse in it already!'
"So being able to make nothing of him, Douglas let him go back to hisdry peat coom.
"The next morning was bright and bonny as the others had been, for theautumn of this year was most favourable to our purpose--by the blessingo' the deil as Lag used to say in his cups, so that the track along theside of Curleywee to Loch Dee was dry as a bone. When we came to theford of the Cooran, we saw a party coming down to meet us with prisonersriding in the midst. There was an old man with his feet tied togetherunder the horse's belly. He swayed from side to side so that twotroopers had to help him, one either side, to keep his seat. This theydid, roughly enough. The other prisoner was a young lass with a still,sweet face, but with something commanding about it also--saving yourpresence, sir. She was indeed a picture and my heart was wae for herwhen some one cried out:
"'Mardrochat has done it to richts this time. He has gotten the auld todo' the Duchrae, Anton Lennox, and his bonny dochter at the same catch.That will be no less than a hundred reward, sterling money!'
"Whereat Douglas cursed and said that a hundred was too much for anyrenegade dog such as Cannon of Mardrochat to handle, and that he couldassuredly dock him of the half of it.
"So that day we marched to New Galloway, and the next to Minnyhive onthe road by the Enterkin to Edinburgh."
This is the end of the Toskrie Tam's story as he told it to me in thegarden house of Afton.