The collected writings of Dougal Graham "Skellat" Bellman of Glasgow: edited with notes: Together with a Biographical and Bibliographical Introduction, and a Sketch of the Chap Literature of Scotland: by George MacGregor: In two volumes |
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| II. | CHAP. II. |
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| II. |
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 | CHAP. II. The collected writings of Dougal Graham |  |
CHAP. II.
Battle of Preston pans. Rebels return to Edinburgh, and behaviour there.
Now, at Dunbar, both foot and horse
Were join'd again, with full purpose,
The proud Pretender's force to try,
And all the Highland pow'rs defy:
Commanded by Cope and fur'ous Fowke,
Who, alas! their plan had quite mistook;
Though Loudon and Gard'ner both were there,
They in council had, but little share:
For Cope he challeng'd the sole command,
And Fowke was still at his demand.
A day's march made from Haddington,
Judg'd great fatigue, four miles of ground.
Between Cow-canny and Tranent
There Cope encamp'd, to council went,
Loudon and Gard'ner were of a mind,
That night to fight were well design'd:
Cope shamm'd it till another day,
In hope 'twould prove a cheaper way:
“Old men and boys, he said, would run,
“Sight of his army would them stun,
“A rabble undisciplin'd to fight,
“They neither have courage nor might.
“This day we've march'd enough, you'll grant,
“T'morrow we'll make the rogues repent.”
—With that the Highlanders appear'd
(While Cope huzza'd, mocked and jeer'd)
On the hill top bewest Tranent,
All in good order, for battle bent.
Then Cope began to Cannonade,
So back behind the hill they fled,
Thought it too hard to face his shot,
As 'tween them lay a ditch or moat;
Their Chiefs in council quickly chose
On the east side Cope to enclose,
South, north and west, he was hemm'd in,
No ways but one could at him win.
Were join'd again, with full purpose,
The proud Pretender's force to try,
And all the Highland pow'rs defy:
Commanded by Cope and fur'ous Fowke,
Who, alas! their plan had quite mistook;
Though Loudon and Gard'ner both were there,
They in council had, but little share:
For Cope he challeng'd the sole command,
And Fowke was still at his demand.
A day's march made from Haddington,
Judg'd great fatigue, four miles of ground.
Between Cow-canny and Tranent
98
Loudon and Gard'ner were of a mind,
That night to fight were well design'd:
Cope shamm'd it till another day,
In hope 'twould prove a cheaper way:
“Old men and boys, he said, would run,
“Sight of his army would them stun,
“A rabble undisciplin'd to fight,
“They neither have courage nor might.
“This day we've march'd enough, you'll grant,
“T'morrow we'll make the rogues repent.”
—With that the Highlanders appear'd
(While Cope huzza'd, mocked and jeer'd)
On the hill top bewest Tranent,
All in good order, for battle bent.
Then Cope began to Cannonade,
So back behind the hill they fled,
Thought it too hard to face his shot,
As 'tween them lay a ditch or moat;
Their Chiefs in council quickly chose
On the east side Cope to enclose,
South, north and west, he was hemm'd in,
No ways but one could at him win.
This was about the hour of two,
When first they did each other view.
The afternoon was fair and clear;
Yet Sir John Cope stopt all, we hear,
The fields are plain around Tranent,
Besouth the town grow whins and bent,
Where Charles kept his men secure,
Thinking on battle ev'ry hour.
But, Cope to move no man could treat,
More than he had been Arthur's seat,
On which hillside he spy'd some men,
And vow'd they were the Rebel train,
Which was divided in parties two,
And on his rear in ambush drew;
For which the piece of ground he chus'd,
As on all sides it was inclos'd.
So under arms they stood all night,
Till break of day began the fight.
His troops indeed, none can deny,
Were form'd in order gallantly;
The foot into the centre stood,
And cavalry, wings covered,
With each battalion was seen
Counter guards, cannons between.
All night he in this posture stood,
While Charlie in a bushy wood,
A little bewest of Seaton-town,
Picquets and spies went him around,
Lay undiscover'd till break of day,
Then rouz'd like lions for their prey,
In full brigades and oval form,
Upon Cope's front came as a storm,
The orders were not for to fire,
Until they came a little nigh'r;
To sham the first fell to the ground,
By which means few receiv'd a wound:
And ere they gave the other charge,
They on them with their sword and targe.
The furious Cam'rons, led by Lochiel,
With hideous cries gave such a knell
As frighted both dragoons and horse,
They could not fight, but rore and curse:
And Sir John Cope, for all his might,
Went with the foremost out of sight.
Fierce Fowke, brave Hume and Loudon both,
For to be ta'en that day were loth,
Few of the horsemen stood at all,
Woe to their conduct! worst of all;
For those who on the right wing stood,
A whole battalion over rode,
That kept the rear Corps de garde
Quite over them they headlong tread.
One thing they knew, they were inclos'd,
And where to flee, was not dispos'd:
They always sought the way they came,
Though in their face were sword and flame:
So when they got down to the sea,
Took east the coast most furiouslie:
And some through Preston vennal fled,
Then west by Mussleburgh they raid,
Up to the hills above Dalkeith,
O'er Sutrae hill, then out of skaith,
In such a pannic, 'twas a shame,
Ran thirty miles, even to Coldstream,
And there to rest they would not yet;
But unto Berwick, next morning set,
Where all the fugitives did meet,
And Sir John Cope his cheeks did weet;
Because they swore he had sold them,
To fight nor flee he ne'er told them.
When first they did each other view.
The afternoon was fair and clear;
Yet Sir John Cope stopt all, we hear,
The fields are plain around Tranent,
Besouth the town grow whins and bent,
Where Charles kept his men secure,
Thinking on battle ev'ry hour.
But, Cope to move no man could treat,
More than he had been Arthur's seat,
On which hillside he spy'd some men,
And vow'd they were the Rebel train,
Which was divided in parties two,
And on his rear in ambush drew;
99
As on all sides it was inclos'd.
So under arms they stood all night,
Till break of day began the fight.
His troops indeed, none can deny,
Were form'd in order gallantly;
The foot into the centre stood,
And cavalry, wings covered,
With each battalion was seen
Counter guards, cannons between.
All night he in this posture stood,
While Charlie in a bushy wood,
A little bewest of Seaton-town,
Picquets and spies went him around,
Lay undiscover'd till break of day,
Then rouz'd like lions for their prey,
In full brigades and oval form,
Upon Cope's front came as a storm,
The orders were not for to fire,
Until they came a little nigh'r;
To sham the first fell to the ground,
By which means few receiv'd a wound:
And ere they gave the other charge,
They on them with their sword and targe.
The furious Cam'rons, led by Lochiel,
With hideous cries gave such a knell
As frighted both dragoons and horse,
They could not fight, but rore and curse:
And Sir John Cope, for all his might,
Went with the foremost out of sight.
Fierce Fowke, brave Hume and Loudon both,
For to be ta'en that day were loth,
Few of the horsemen stood at all,
Woe to their conduct! worst of all;
For those who on the right wing stood,
A whole battalion over rode,
That kept the rear Corps de garde
101
One thing they knew, they were inclos'd,
And where to flee, was not dispos'd:
They always sought the way they came,
Though in their face were sword and flame:
So when they got down to the sea,
Took east the coast most furiouslie:
And some through Preston vennal fled,
Then west by Mussleburgh they raid,
Up to the hills above Dalkeith,
O'er Sutrae hill, then out of skaith,
In such a pannic, 'twas a shame,
Ran thirty miles, even to Coldstream,
And there to rest they would not yet;
But unto Berwick, next morning set,
Where all the fugitives did meet,
And Sir John Cope his cheeks did weet;
Because they swore he had sold them,
To fight nor flee he ne'er told them.
The poor foot, left here, paid for all,
Not in fair battle, with powder and ball;
But horrid swords, of dreadful length,
So fast came on, with spite and strength,
Lochaber axes and rusty scythes,
Durks and daggers prick'd their thighs:
Fix'd bay'nets had but little share
With the long shanked weapons there;
Although they kept together fast,
Their en'mies close upon them prest;
And back to back long did they stand,
Till lost was many a head and hand.
Then after Gard'ner's party's beat,
The whole of's horsemen clean defeat,
Himself on foot rejoic'd to see
The brave lads fight so valiantly,
With no commander on their head,
To join that party swift he gade:
Although some wounds he'd got before,
To lose the field his heart was sore.
Then all around he was enclos'd,
Behind, before, fiercely oppos'd,
With sword in hand he hew'd his way,
While blood in streams did from him fly.
Ere him down on the field they got,
His head was clove, his body shot,
And being sep'rate from the rest,
The battle sore upon him prest,
Ev'n after he lay on the ground,
No mercy was unto him shown,
I mean by the rude vulgar core,
Yet gentlemen lamented sore;
Because he would no quarter have,
While they endeavour'd 's live to save.
Not in fair battle, with powder and ball;
But horrid swords, of dreadful length,
So fast came on, with spite and strength,
Lochaber axes and rusty scythes,
Durks and daggers prick'd their thighs:
Fix'd bay'nets had but little share
With the long shanked weapons there;
Although they kept together fast,
Their en'mies close upon them prest;
And back to back long did they stand,
Till lost was many a head and hand.
Then after Gard'ner's party's beat,
The whole of's horsemen clean defeat,
Himself on foot rejoic'd to see
The brave lads fight so valiantly,
With no commander on their head,
To join that party swift he gade:
102
To lose the field his heart was sore.
Then all around he was enclos'd,
Behind, before, fiercely oppos'd,
With sword in hand he hew'd his way,
While blood in streams did from him fly.
Ere him down on the field they got,
His head was clove, his body shot,
And being sep'rate from the rest,
The battle sore upon him prest,
Ev'n after he lay on the ground,
No mercy was unto him shown,
I mean by the rude vulgar core,
Yet gentlemen lamented sore;
Because he would no quarter have,
While they endeavour'd 's live to save.
One man he had, who by him staid,
Until he on the field was laid,
And then he fled to the Meadow-mill,
Where he acquainted was right well,
Thence in disguise return'd again,
And bore him off, from 'mongst the slain.
His stately dwelling was near by;
But now he could not lift an eye,
His speech was laid, all hopes were gone
No signs of life, except a groan.
Of hours he liv'd but very few,
“A good Christi'n and soldi'r too,”
This character he's left behind
Military men there's few of 's kind.
Until he on the field was laid,
And then he fled to the Meadow-mill,
Where he acquainted was right well,
Thence in disguise return'd again,
And bore him off, from 'mongst the slain.
His stately dwelling was near by;
But now he could not lift an eye,
His speech was laid, all hopes were gone
No signs of life, except a groan.
Of hours he liv'd but very few,
“A good Christi'n and soldi'r too,”
This character he's left behind
Military men there's few of 's kind.
The poor foot, on field, I can't forget,
Who now were caught as in a net,
From 'bove Cow-canny to Preston-dyke,
About a mile or near the like,
They were beat backward by the clans,
Along the crofts 'bove Preston-pans,
Till the high dyke held them again,
Where many taken were and slain;
Although they did for quarters cry,
The vulgar clans made this reply,
“Quarters! you curst soldiers, mad,
“It is o'er soon to go to bed.”
Had not their officers and chiefs
Sprung in and begg'd for their reliefs,
They had not left one living there:
For in a desp'rate rage they were,
'Cause many clans were hack'd and slain;
Yet of their loss they let not ken:
For by the shot fell not a few,
And many with bay'nets pierc'd thro'.
'Bove three hundred lay on the field,
Fifteen hundred were forced to yield,
The rest with Cope got clear away.
And so ended this bloody fray,
Since call'd the battle of Preston-pans,
Fought by John Cope and Charlie's clans,
September the twenty-first day,
Below Tranent a little way;
From Gladsmoor church two miles and more,
The place old Rhymer told long before,
“That between Seaton and the sea,
“A dreadful morning there should be,
“Meet in the morning lighted by the moon,
“The lion his wound here, heal shall not soon.”
In Thomas' book of this you'll read,
Mention'd by both Merlin and Bead.
Who now were caught as in a net,
From 'bove Cow-canny to Preston-dyke,
About a mile or near the like,
They were beat backward by the clans,
Along the crofts 'bove Preston-pans,
Till the high dyke held them again,
103
Although they did for quarters cry,
The vulgar clans made this reply,
“Quarters! you curst soldiers, mad,
“It is o'er soon to go to bed.”
Had not their officers and chiefs
Sprung in and begg'd for their reliefs,
They had not left one living there:
For in a desp'rate rage they were,
'Cause many clans were hack'd and slain;
Yet of their loss they let not ken:
For by the shot fell not a few,
And many with bay'nets pierc'd thro'.
'Bove three hundred lay on the field,
Fifteen hundred were forced to yield,
The rest with Cope got clear away.
And so ended this bloody fray,
Since call'd the battle of Preston-pans,
Fought by John Cope and Charlie's clans,
September the twenty-first day,
Below Tranent a little way;
From Gladsmoor church two miles and more,
The place old Rhymer told long before,
“That between Seaton and the sea,
“A dreadful morning there should be,
“Meet in the morning lighted by the moon,
“The lion his wound here, heal shall not soon.”
In Thomas' book of this you'll read,
Mention'd by both Merlin and Bead.
Now, the field tents and warlike store
And cannons, which they'd not before,
All fell into the conq'rers hand,
Of arms many a hundred stand.
And cannons, which they'd not before,
All fell into the conq'rers hand,
Of arms many a hundred stand.
To Edinburgh then he did return,
His great triumph made many mourn.
Through Lothian then it was the way,
Whose man ye was ye durst not say.
Nor to what side you'd wish good speed;
So critical were times indeed.
To Holyrood-house, great Charles then,
Went in with all his noblemen,
Being low out of the castle's view
There to him flocked not a few,
Who were in dread to come before;
But now they thought the conquest o'er,
Rich presents were unto him sent,
And much time in gallanting spent.
His army here strove to recruit,
Large collections were contribute,
Taxes, cess, and all king's dues,
His orders no man durst refuse.
The whole country and neighbouring towns
Obediently sent in their pounds:
Horses and carts they did provide,
And men likewise these carts to guide.
Yet when of all he was prepar'd,
Another hardship was declar'd,
As they were 'bout to leave the land,
Six weeks cess before the hand,
They gave a charge for all to pay
Who dealt into the malting way,
Forthwith to raise this contribution
On pain of military execution.
His great triumph made many mourn.
Through Lothian then it was the way,
Whose man ye was ye durst not say.
104
So critical were times indeed.
To Holyrood-house, great Charles then,
Went in with all his noblemen,
Being low out of the castle's view
There to him flocked not a few,
Who were in dread to come before;
But now they thought the conquest o'er,
Rich presents were unto him sent,
And much time in gallanting spent.
His army here strove to recruit,
Large collections were contribute,
Taxes, cess, and all king's dues,
His orders no man durst refuse.
The whole country and neighbouring towns
Obediently sent in their pounds:
Horses and carts they did provide,
And men likewise these carts to guide.
Yet when of all he was prepar'd,
Another hardship was declar'd,
As they were 'bout to leave the land,
Six weeks cess before the hand,
They gave a charge for all to pay
Who dealt into the malting way,
Forthwith to raise this contribution
On pain of military execution.
This did the brewers exasp'rate,
But to answer they knew not what.
An honest quaker brew'd good ale,
Who never wanted a ready tale,
To him the brewers did apply,
For his good counsel what to say:
After that he had heard them speak,
“Your speech, says he, does make me sick,
“By Yea and Nay, I think it's fit,
To keep our money and pay with wit,
Though he's noble born, I do not lo'e him;
“Yet ne'ertheless I will go to him:
“Were he all the earthly into one skin,
“He's but a lump of dust and sin,
“If I regard the face of clay,
“To morrow be my bury'ng day:
“He's fenc'd around with men and swords,
“Which I'll repel with simple words.”
But to answer they knew not what.
An honest quaker brew'd good ale,
Who never wanted a ready tale,
To him the brewers did apply,
For his good counsel what to say:
After that he had heard them speak,
“Your speech, says he, does make me sick,
“By Yea and Nay, I think it's fit,
To keep our money and pay with wit,
Though he's noble born, I do not lo'e him;
105
“Were he all the earthly into one skin,
“He's but a lump of dust and sin,
“If I regard the face of clay,
“To morrow be my bury'ng day:
“He's fenc'd around with men and swords,
“Which I'll repel with simple words.”
This honest quaker took his way,
And call'd for Charles without delay,
I am a man who want to see him;
Because I have some bus'ness wi' him.
Said one, You must tell that to me,
By Yea and Nay, thou art not he,
The tidings which I have to tell
Concerneth none but Charles himsell,
And if he'll not permit me in,
My mouth I'll shut and not begin:
And call'd for Charles without delay,
I am a man who want to see him;
Because I have some bus'ness wi' him.
Said one, You must tell that to me,
By Yea and Nay, thou art not he,
The tidings which I have to tell
Concerneth none but Charles himsell,
And if he'll not permit me in,
My mouth I'll shut and not begin:
Then at the door he entrance gat,
Yet neither mov'd his hand or hat,
Says—“Charles, man what dost thou mean?
“Thou sure are not this countries friend,
“Thou'rt worse than all that came before thee,
“And will make the country quite abhor thee,
“Thou'rt worse than George for all his stents,
“He ne'er before-hand charg'd his rents;
“But gave six weeks to scrape it in;
“Thou car'st not whether we lose or win;
“We may die, ere six weeks be past,
“Look what thou do'st, run not too fast.”
Charles replies, “a strait we're on;
“But 'gainst your wills, it sha'n't be done.”
Then thank thee kindly for thy grant,
And off he came as mild's a saint.
Yet neither mov'd his hand or hat,
Says—“Charles, man what dost thou mean?
“Thou sure are not this countries friend,
“Thou'rt worse than all that came before thee,
“And will make the country quite abhor thee,
“Thou'rt worse than George for all his stents,
“He ne'er before-hand charg'd his rents;
“But gave six weeks to scrape it in;
“Thou car'st not whether we lose or win;
“We may die, ere six weeks be past,
“Look what thou do'st, run not too fast.”
Charles replies, “a strait we're on;
“But 'gainst your wills, it sha'n't be done.”
Then thank thee kindly for thy grant,
And off he came as mild's a saint.
| CHAP. II. The collected writings of Dougal Graham | |