University of Virginia Library

2. PART II.

The severity of winter had already begun to relax, although
the season of its endurance had not yet passed away; for, as
it not unfrequently happens, the unwonted rigor, which had
characterized the last months of 1568, was succeeded by a
scarcely less unusual mildness in the commencement of the
following year. The air was mild, and, for the most part,
southerly; and the continuance of soft and misty weather had
clothed the meadows with a premature and transitory verdure.
The young grass pushed forth its tender blades from the
mound which covered all that earth might claim of the hapless
wife of Hamilton, the small birds chirped above her silent
home, and in the vales which she had gladdened by her presence,
it seemed as though her gentle virtues were forgotten
almost before her limbs had perished in their untimely sepulchre.
One heart, however, there still beat, that never would
forget; one heart that would have deemed forgetfulness the
deepest curse it could be made to feel, although the gift of
memory was but the source of unavailing sorrow and despair.

Experience has fully shown that to no frame of mind is grief
more poignantly acute than to such as having been fashioned
by nature in a stern and rugged mould, averse to sympathy,
and hardly susceptible of any tender emotion have, by some
fortuitous circumstances, and in some unguarded hour, been
surrendered to the dominion of one master passion, which has
worked, in time, an entire revulsion of their feelings, and
changed the very aim of their existence. Such had been the
fate of Bothwelhaugh; restless, fierce, and ambitious, as he
has been pictured in his unbridled youth; accustomed to speak
and think of women with license and contempt, he had been
affected by the sweetness and pure love of his young bride to
a degree, which souls like his alone are able to conceive; and
when deprived of her in a manner so fearfully horrible, and
with details so aggravating, the effects produced on his demeanor
were proportioned only to the event which gave them
birth.

No sudden burst of violence, no fierce display of temper,
such as, in his days of unrestrained indulgence, he hath been
wont to show at the loss of a favorite falcon, or a faithful
hound, followed upon this his first true cause for sorrow. Not
a tear moistened his burning eyeballs, not a sob relieved the
choking of his throat, as he followed his first and only love to
her eternal home; a heavy stupor was upon him; he moved,
spoke, and acted as if by instinct, rather than by volition; and
there were those who deemed that his brain had received a
shock that would paralyze its faculties for ever, and that the
high souled and sagacious Hamilton was henceforth to be
rated as a moody, moping idiot. Not long, however, did this
unusual temper continue; for scarcely had he seen the last remains
of the only being he had ever loved committed to earth,
ere, to the eye of a superficial observer, he appeared solely occupied
in the management of his departure from the patrimony

of his immemorial ancestors; few, indeed, and brief were his
preparations; a charger of matchless strength and symmetry,
was easily provided on that warlike frontier to supply the place
of that which had borne him on his fatal journey; his arms
were carefully inspected, the rust wiped from his two-handed
blade, and the powder freshened in his clumsy, but effective,
firearms; and, lastly, a dozen of the hardiest riders of the
border side had preferred the fortunes of their natural chief, although
his star was overcast, to the usurped dominions of him
who, by the haughty regent's favor, possessed the confiscated
demesnes of a better and braver man. Mounted on horses
famed for their hardiness and speed, and trained to all the
varied purposes of war; their bright and soldier-like accoutrements
contrasting strangely with the wild expression of their
features, their untrimmed beards, and shaggy locks, the small
band, as they leaned on their long lances, or secured their
slight equipments, around the solitary tower in which their
leader had passed the melancholy hours of his sojourn, presented
a picture of singular romance and beauty. Horses
neighed and stamped in the echoing court-yard, armor clashed,
and spurs jingled, and louder than all were heard the eager
and excited voices of the untamed borderers; but every sound
was hushed as their stern chief came forth, surveyed the harness
of every trooper, and the caparison of every steed in silence,
threw himself upon his horse, and wheeled his handful
of men at a hard trot upon the road toward the Scottish capital.
Hardly a mile of their route had been passed, and the
troop was diving into the very glen which had witnessed the
downfall of Hamilton's sole earthly hope, when the vidette fell
hastily back with notice of the approach of horsemen. Hurrying
forward, they had already cleared the ravine, when they
beheld some half score lancers winding down toward the rugged
ford, the followers, it seemed, of a knight who had already
passed the river. There needed not a moment's halt to array
his fresh steeds and ready warriors for the charge; if such
were to be the result of the encounter. At a glance had Hamilton
discovered the person of the regent's minion, the cold-blooded,
relentless hater, who had wreaked his coward spite
upon his unoffending, helpless wife; nor were his followers
slower in recognising the usurper of their chieftain's patrimony.
With a fierce and triumphant yell, they dashed their spurs into
their horses' flanks, and with levelled spears and presented
match-locks, threatened inevitable destruction to the victim
who was thus hopelessly surrendered to their mercy. The
nearest of his train was separated from him by the wide and
stony channel of the Eske, nor was it possible that he could
be joined by succor in time to preserve him from the fury of
those wild avengers. To the astonishment, however, of both
parties, Bothwelhaugh, who had only learned the deadly intentions
of his men from the hoarse clamor with which they
greeted the appearance of their destined prey, himself reined
up his horse with a shock so sudden that it had nearly thrown
him on his haunches — “How now!” he shouted, in the short
tones of resolution; “vassals! halt, or I cleave the foremost
to his teeth! Saint Mary aid us; but we have fair discipline!”
His determined words, no less than the readiness
with which he had upon the instant beat down the lances of
the fiercest troopers, arrested their wild violence; and before
the intended victim had prepared his mind either for resistance
or submission, the peril was at an end.

Wheeling his party upon the narrow green beside the bridge,
the bereaved husband halted, awaiting the approach of his wife's
destroyer, with an apathy which, to the veterans who had followed
him in many a bloody day, appeared no less incomprehensible
than shameful; while one by one the enemy filed
through the narrow pass formed, hesitated for a space, and

then, perceiving that no opposition would be offered to their
progress, marched onward with a steady front, and well-dissembled
resolution. Last of the troop, with downcast eye and
varying complexion, as though he scarcely dared to hope for
mercy from a man whom he had so irreparably injured, rode
the usurper, expecting at every step to hear the border slogan
pealing from the lips, and to feel the death-blow thundering
from the arm of him, to whom he had given such ample cause
to curse the hour when he was born. Motionless as a statue
state the noble Hamilton on his tall war-horse, his broadsword
at rest within its scabbard, and his countenance as calm, and
almost as dark, as midnight; — yet, whatever were the feelings
that induced the borderer to forego his vengeance, when circumstances
thus wooed him to the deed, it was evident that
mercy had no place within his soul at that tremendous moment.
The heavy gloom that dimmed his eye — the deep
scowl upon his brow — the compression of his lips — and the
quivering motion of his fingers, as they hovered upon the gripe
of his dagger, betokened no slight or transitory struggle; and
the deep breath drawn from the bottom of the chest, as the
hated minion disappeared, spoke, as plainly as words, the relief
which he experienced at the removal of so powerful a
temptation. “No!” he muttered between his teeth — “it
would have been a deed of madness! To have crushed the
jackall would but have roused the lion into caution! Let
them deem me coward — slave — fool! — if they will — so I
have my revenge!” Again he resumed his route in silence,
nor did a word, save an occasional command, fall from him by
which the train of his sensations might have been discovered;
all day he pursued his march with unwearied diligence, barely
allowing such brief intervals of rest as might enable his
cattle to proceed with recruited vigor — and, while toiling
through the deep morass, or over the pathless hill, night closed,
starless and overcast, above his houseless head; but little mattered
it to such men as that determined soldier and his rugged
comrades, whether night found them on the lonely moor or in
the lighted hall. And if they thought at all upon the subject, it
was but to congratulate themselves on the fortunate obscurity
which agreed so well with their mysterious enterprise.

The second moon was in her wane, from that which had
beheld the death of Margaret, and her miserable babe; yet the
savage executor of her fate lorded it securely in the halls
which had so lately been the dwelling of female innocence
and peace. For a while men looked for a sure and speedy retribution
from the fatal wrath of him who had never yet been
known to fail a friend, or to forgive a foe; yet day succeeded
day, and, with the impunity of the murderer, the astonishment
at first, and ere long the scorn of all, pursued the recreant husband
and fugitive chief of a name once so noble. Some gray-haired
veterans there were, who would ominously shake their
heads, and press their fingers to the lip, when topics such as
these were broached, or hint that the lord of Bothwelhaugh
would bide his time, and that, if he were unaccountably slow
in seeking his revenge, he paused but to mak sicker;[7] generally,
however, an idea prevailed that the spirit of Hamilton
had been so utterly prostrated by the blow, that no gallant deed
of vengeance — which was held in those days of recent barbarism,
not only justifiable, but in the highest degree praiseworthy
and honorable — was now to be dreaded by his foes, or
hailed by his firm adherents. Little, however, did they know
the man whom they presumed to stigmatize as a recreant, or a
coward; and still less could they conceive the change, which
had been brought about by a single event in his formerly rash

and unthinking temper. Once, not an instant would have
elapsed between the commission of the crime and its punishment;
once, he would have rushed upon a thousand perils to
confront the man who wronged him, and would have set his
life at naught in avenging his tarnished honor. Now, on the
contrary, his bold and open hardihood was exchanged for a
keen and subtle cunning; now he hoarded, with a miser's
care that life which he had set upon a thousand times; not
that he loved his life, but that he had devoted it to the attainment
of one object, which had become the single aim of his
existence. It was from the quiver of Murray that the arrow
had been selected, which had pierced his love, and he haughtily
overlooked the wretched villain, who had aimed the dart,
in his anxiety to smite the mightier though remoter agent, who
furnished his tool with that power which had destroyed his all.

Successful in his ambitious projects, backed by the almost
omnipotent league of the covenanted lords, wielding the truncheon
of the regency as firmly as though it were a royal sceptre,
feared and honored by Scotland, respected by the lion-queen
of England, Murray entertained no doubt, harbored no
lurking dread, of a man too insignificant, as he deemed in his
overweening confidence, to cope with the occupant of Scotland's
throne.

Returning from an expedition through the vales of Esk and
Clyde, whose romantic waters had been dyed with blood by
his remorseless policy, leaving sad traces of his progress in
smoking villages and ruined towers, he had reached Linlithgow
on his progress toward his capital. Surrounded by a select
force of the best warriors from every lowland plain or high-land
glen, he had entered the antique town as the last sun that
was ever to set for him sank slowly into a bed of threatening
clouds; and all night long the streets of Linlithgow rang with
mingled sounds of war and revelry. From leagues around the

population of the country had crowded in to feast their eyes
with the triumphant entry, and pay their homage to the well
nigh royal conqueror; many an eye was sleepless on the
memorable night, but few from sorrow or anxiety; yet there
was one within the precincts of those antiquated walls, whose
presence, had it been whispered in the regent's ear, would
have shaken his dauntless heart with an unwonted tremor.
Overlooking from its Gothic bartizan, the market-place of the
old city, stood one of those gloomy dwellings, with its turretted
gable to the street, its oaken portal clenched with many
a massive spike and bar, and its narrow casements subdivided
by stone transoms, which are yet to be seen in several of the
Scottish boroughs, presenting evident traces of having been
erected in that iron time, when every man's house was in
truth his castle. Here, in a narrow gallery which commanded
the principal thoroughfare, without a light to cheer his solitude,
or fire to warm his limbs, watched the avenger. The night
was raw and gusty, yet he felt not the penetrating breath of
winter; he had ridden many a weary mile, yet his eyelids
felt no inclination to slumber; he had fasted since the preceding
night, yet he knew no hunger; he stood upon the
brink of murder, yet he shuddered not. Before the sun had
set, he had despatched his last attendant to the castle of his
princely kinsman the duke, who bore his name, and owned his
fealty; he had supplied his charger with the grain which was
to serve him for to-morrow's race, in one of the lower halls of
the deserted house; he had barricaded every portal with unwonted
deliberation, and secured the windows with chain and
bar; he had prepared all that was needful for the tragedy he
was about to perpetrate, and now he was alone with his conscience
and his God!

His mind, wrought to the highest pitch of resolution,
dreamed not of compunction, nor did he for an instant doubt

his full justification in the eyes of his Creator, although he was
lying in wait secretly to mark a fellow-being, as though he
were a beast of the chase. Nor indeed did he feel so much
of hesitation in leveling his rifle[8] at his brother man, as he
had often experienced in striking down the antlered monarch
of the waste. Oftentimes, when the beautiful deer had been
stretched at his feet by his unerring aim, with its graceful
limbs unstrung for ever, and its noble crest grovelling in
the dust, had he sorrowed in secret over the destruction he
had wrought for momentary pleasure; but no such thoughts
were here to meet his resolution, or to damp his anticipated
triumph. As he paced on his short beat with firm and measured
stride, he reckoned the minutes with trembling anxiety,
and as the successive hours clanged from the lofty steeple, he
cursed the space that yet divided him from his revenge; still,
amidst all his eagerness, he had the strength of mind to banish
from his thoughts all recollections of the grievance, which he
never recurred to but he felt his brain reel, and his nerves
tremble with fury, which he could neither guide nor moderate.
Night, however, though it may be tedious even to disgust, can
not endure for ever; and, in due time, the misty light of dawn
glimmered through the narrow panes upon the scene of fatal
preparation. The wall facing the window, hung from the
ceiling to the floor with black cloth, that no shadow might betray
the lurking enemy, the piles of bedding strewed upon the
floor to prevent a single footfall from awakening suspicion,
and, on a table by the casement, the match-lock rifle, with its
slow match already kindled, the horn and bullets ready for the
hand, no less than the accoutrements and bearing of the man,
proclaimed the fixed determination with which he had plotted,
and the cold-blooded preparation with which he was prompt to
execute his enemy's destruction.

As the morning broke, a wild flourish of trumpets sounded
the reveille ftom a distant quarter of the town, wherein his victim
had passed the hours of sleep in undisturbed tranquillity.
The sound fell upon the ear of Hamilton, and, thrilling to his
heart's core, stirred him like the horse of Job. Again he applied
himself to his task; again he reconnoitred every outlet
to the main street, and made assurance doubly sure that, for
ten minutes, at the least, the fastenings could resist any assaults
short of the shot of ordnance; he equipped his charger
with the lightest trappings, tried every buckle, and proved the
least important thong; then, as the time drew nigh, led him forth
silently to the rear of the building, whence a gloomy and neglected
garden conducted to an unfrequented lane, by which
he might gain access to the open country. Still, when all this
was finished, when the preparations were concluded, and his
escape provided to the utmost that human foresight could
effect, a tedious hour had yet to creep away before the success
of his machinations should be ascertained. Cautiously he retraced
his steps, and entering once more upon the scene of
action, prepared his weapon for the deed with scrupulous attention;
the first smile that had lightened his gloomy brow
now flashed across it as he drove the leaden messenger down
the tube, from which it was soon to be launched on its career
of blood; and raising the well-proved instrument to his unerring

eye, examined with a markman's skill its range and balance.
Then coolly, as though he were about to provide himself
against the inconveniences of a protracted chase, drawing from
a recess food and wine, he broke bread and drank, not without
satisfaction.

Hardly had he finished his slender meal before the distant
chime of the matin bells, proclaiming the earliest service of
the church, tinkled upon the breeze. Reverently; devoutly
did the future murderer sink upon his knees, and fervently did
he implore the aid of that Being, who, if it be not impious to
imagine the ideas of Divinity, must have looked down with abhorrence
on the supplication of one who was even then plotting
a deed of blood, unless the ignorance and barbarism of
the age might pass for some alleviation of individual error in
the sight of Him who is no less a God of mercy than of justice
and of truth. Strengthened in his awful purpose, and confident
of both the goodness and the approaching triumph of his
cause, Hamilton rose up from his ill-judged devotions. Suddenly
the roar of artillery shook the casements, and the din of
martial music, trumpet, horn, and kettle-drum, mingling in wild
discordance with the pibrochs of the highland clans, announced
that the regent had commenced his progress.

At once every symptom of anxiety or eagerness disappeared
from the lowering countenance of Hamilton; while there had
been uncertainty, the slightest possible shade of trepidation
had appeared in his demeanor; but now, as in the warlike
symphony, and the acclamations of the populace, he foresaw
the success of all his desperate machinations, he was calm
and self-possessed; now, when a meaner spirit would have
shrunk from the completion of the deed, which it had dared
to plan, but lacked the resolution to perform, the full extent
of his determination was most manifest. There was a quiet
composure in his eye, a serene complacency in the repose of

every feature, which, as considered in connection with his
dreadful purpose, was more appalling, than the fiercest burst
of passion. Firm as a statue he stood in the dark embrasure,
the ready weapon in his hand, and his keen glance watching
the approach of his doomed victim. Louder and louder
swelled the notes of triumph; and now the very words of the
applauding concourse became audible: “God save the regent!”
“Life to the noble Murray!” Then a score of lancers lightly
equipped, and nobly mounted, clattered along the echoing
street to clear a path for the procession; but their efforts were
exerted to no purpose, the populace, which thronged the area
of the place closed in behind the soldiers, as waves uniting in
the wake of some swift sailer, and, in their eagerness to prove
the extent of their good wishes, frustrated their own intent, and
rendered their favorite's doom more certain. Banner after banner,
troop after troop, swept onward! Glittering in all the gorgeousness
of steel and scarlet, marshalled by men whose fame
for warlike science and undaunted bravery might have challenged
the glory of earth's most widely-bruited heroes, elated
with recent victory, and proud of the unconquered leader whom
they guarded, they trampled on, “defying earth and confident
of heaven.” Morton was there, with his sneering smile and
downcast eye, as when he struck his poniard into the heart of
Rizzio; and Lindsay, of the Byres, sordid in his antiquated
garb and rusty armor, with the hardest heart beneath his iron
corslet that ever beat in a human breast; and Kircaldy, of the
Grange, the best and bravest soldier of the age; and the celebrated
Knox, riding in his clerical garb amidst the spears —
Knox, of whom it was justly spoken after his decease, that he had
never feared the face of man! and the chief of the Macfarlanes
with his shadowy tartans, and the eagle-feather in his bonnet,
and a thousand kilted caterans at his heels! But proudly as
the marshalled ranks proceeded on their march, and haughty
as was the bearing of the crested warriors, there was not a
man in all the train that could compare in thewes and sinews
with him who watched within. His closely-fitting dress of
chamois leather, displaying the faultless proportions of his
limbs, the elasticity of his tread, the majestic melancholy of
his expression, gained by the contrast, when viewed beside
the pomp and splendor of his haughty foemen. Another troop
of lancers striving in vain to remove the crowded spectators
from the route; and then, preceded by heralds in their quartered
tabards, amid the clang of instruments, and the redoubled
clamors of the multitude, on a gray, which had been cheaply
purchased at the price of an earl's ransom, sheathed from head
to heel in the tempered steel of Milan, Murray came forth, in
all but name a king. So closely did the crowd press forward,
that the chargers of the knights could barely move at a foot's
pace. Glencairn was at his right, and on his left, the truest
of his followers, Douglas of Parkhead.

The pomp had passed unnoticed; the well-known figures
had gleamed before the eyes of Hamilton, like phantoms in a
troubled dream; but no sooner had his victim met his eye,
than the ready rifle was at his shoulder. The regent's face
was turned toward his murderer, and full at the broad brow
did the avenger point the tube. The match was kindled, the
finger pressed the trigger, when, at a word from Douglas, he
turned his head; the massive cerveilliere would have defied a
hail of bullets, and the moment for the deed was lost. Without
a moment's pause, without removing the weapon from his
eye, or his eye from the living mark, he suffered the muzzle
to sink slowly down the line of Murray's person. Just below
the hip, where the rim of the corslet should have lapped over
the jointed cuishes, there was one spot at which the crimson
velvet of his under-garb glared through a crevice in the plates,
— a French crown would have guarded twice the space, yet

on that trifling aperture the deadly aim was fixed. A broad
flash was thrown upon the faces of the group, and ere the sound
had followed the streak of flame, the gray dashed madly forward,
with empty saddle, and unmastered rein. The conqueror
had fallen in the very flush of his pride; and, at
the first glance, it seemed, he had not fallen singly, for so
true had been the aim, and so resistless the passage of the
bullet, that, after piercing through his vitals, it had power to
rend the steel asunder, and slay the horse of Douglas. For a
moment there was a silence — a short, breathless pause — the
gathering of the tempest! — a yell of execration and revenge,
and a hundred axes thundered on the steel-clenched portal.

One instant the avenger leaned forth from the casement in
the full view of all, to mark the death-pang of his prey. He
saw the life-blood welling from the wound, he saw the death-sweat
clogging his darkened brow, he saw the bright eye
glaze, and the proud lip curl in the agony — but he saw not,
what he had longed to trace — remorse — terror at quitting
earth — despair of gaining heaven! He turned away in deeper
torment than the dying mortal at his feet, for he felt that all
his wrongs were now but half avenged! The presence of the
murderer lent double vigor to the arms of his pursuers — a
dozen flashes of musketry from the crowd glanced on his sight
— a dozen bullets whistled round his head — but he bore a
charmed life. The gate shook, crashed beneath the force of
the assailants — fell, as he sprang into the saddle! He locked
the sally-port behind him, darted through the lonely garden,
gained the lane, and saw the broad free moors before him.
But, as he cleared the court, a score of light-armed horsemen
wheeled round the corner of the building, dashed their horses
to their speed, and, with tremendous shouts, galloped recklessly
in the pursuit. It was a fearful race, the broken pavement
of the lane presented no obstacle to their precipitate haste;

pursuers and pursued plied spur and scourge with desperate
eagerness, and, for a space, a lance's length was hardly clear
between the fugitive and the half-frantic soldiery; but gradually
the lighter equipments, and the fresher steed of Hamilton,
began to tell. He had already gained a hundred yards, and,
at every stride, was leaving his enemies yet further in the
rear; there were no fire-arms among the knot, who pressed
most closely on his traces, and he would now have gained the
open country, and have escaped without a further struggle;
but, as he cleared the straggling buildings of the suburb, a
fresh relay of troopers met him in the front, headed by Lind-say,
Morton, and Glencairn. Had they been ten yards further
in advance, the life of Bothwelhaugh would not have been
worth a moment's purchase — but he had yet a chance. On
the left hand of the road lay a wide range of moorland pastures,
stretching downward to a deep and sluggish brook, beyond
which the land extended in waste and forest far away to the
demesnes of James of Arran, duke of Chatelherault and Hamilton.
A six-foot wall, of unhewn limestone, parted the grassland
from the highway, and, without a pause, he turned his
horse's head straight to the lofty barrier. At the top of his
pace, the steed drove on — a steady pull upon the rein, a sharp
plunge of the spurs, and, with a fearful bound, he got clear
over; — but, with equal resolution did the confederate lords
pursue — Lindsay was still the foremost, and three others
thundered close behind! Another, and another of these huge
fences crossed their line, but not a rider faltered, not a horse
fell. The price of the chase was fearful — the pace, at which
it was maintained, was too exhausting for both man and beast
to be supported long, and, obviously, the chances of the fugitive
were fast diminishing. Another wall — another successful
leap — Lindsay is down, but Morton takes his place — the
bottom of the hill is gained, and the winding streamlet lies
before them, deep and unfordable, its rugged banks rising precipitously
from the water's edge, and beyond it the tangled
shelter of the forest. Already the pursuers considered their
success as certain — already the shout of triumph was bursting
from their lips, and the avenging blades unsheathed. Both-welhaugh
saw that his case was well-nigh hopeless, yet he
urged his horse against the yawning brook; but the good
steed, jaded by his exertions, and cowed by the brightness of
the water, shyed wildly from the leap, and stopped short,
trembling in every joint. Calmly the soldier tightened his
rein, breathed the exhausted animal ten seconds' space, and,
drawing his light hunting-sword, rode slowly back, as if to
face his enemies. The cry of exultation, which was raised
by all who saw him turn to bay, was heard distinctly at Linlithgow,
and every one, who heard it, deemed the murderer's
head secure. Morton and Glencairn strove hard for the honor
of striking down the slayer of their friend — but, when within
a horse's length, Hamilton turned once again, pulled hard upon
his curb, stood in his stirrups, and, as he reached the brink,
brought down his naked hanger edgewise on the courser's
croup. The terrified brute sprang wildly forward, cleared the
tremendous chasm, and would have fallen on the other verge
but for the powerful hand of the rider. With a startling shout
of exultation, he shook his arm aloft, scowled on his baffled
enemies, and was lost to their sight amid the leafless thickets!