The coffin, which was placed upon a bier above the grave, emitted a hollow sound as it was deposited. Then I felt Ernestine tremble. That faint but terrible sound vibrated among the chords of her desolate heart.
I remember still the words of the burial-service, the solemn and beautiful prayer for the innocent dead; but the memory of that midnight funeral floats before me wavering and indistinctly, like a half-forgotten but impressive dream. The yawning grave and the descending coffin; the sputtering torches and the green tartans; the glittering cuirasses and sunburnt faces of my comrades; the grey and grotesque columns of the old Danish church; the veiled figure that knelt in a paroxysm of prayer and grief beside the closing tomb, from which she would be far away tomorrow; the kind and solemn face of the old village pastor, as he covered it with his sleeve, bowed his aged head, and closed his book; the jarring sound of hasty shovels; the depositation of a large stone; the quiet and slow departure of the many; the lingering of the few, who seemed loth to leave the sobbing and sorrowing sister. The torches by that time were extinguished, and all was over.
All seemed to be a fantasy—a thing that could not be; and the idea that haunted me was, that Gabrielle should meet us at our return. But, alas! there was nothing in the little chamber to indicate her former presence but the outline of her coffin, which still was impressed upon the bed; and, on seeing that, poor Ernestine fainted.
As her elder kinsman, Ian had held the principal cord of the coffin; thus it was by the hand she loved best that the head of poor Gabrielle was lowered into her early grave.
It was a relief to us all when day dawned, for the great event of the night had sorely damped our spirit. The funeral was not over before an early hour; Fritz, Ian, M'Alpine, and I, sat under theGreen-Tree, drinking hot sack by the light of a stable lantern, and when day dawned in the east, and the clouds of night rolled away over Juteland and the Belt, we gladly prepared to march. With the first peep of day our pipers blew the "gathering," and the regiment fell in by companies, in the main street. Munro of Culcraigie had marched with the baggage-wains an hour before.
Ernestine was in Karl's carriage, and was accompanied by her female attendants, while our preacher, doctor, founder, and such other gentlemen as had no place under baton, rode by the side of the wheels. Just as the sun rose above the horizon, we marched from Hesinge, with the shrill fifes playing and merry drums rattling to the old air,Put up your dagger, Jamie.* Thus with all the glitter of military display, and its greatest accessary, martial music, we left for ever that old Danish village of Odenzee, and its melancholy associations.
* Now known as "My love she's but a lassie yet."
Next day we reached Nyeborg, a town strongly fortified, but falling into ruin; the old castle of four towers, which Christian III. enclosed by bastions of earth, was untiled, and hastening to decay. From thence we crossed the Great Belt, which was rough and stormy, and landed at Korsör, a poor-looking town, having an ancient fortress. From thence we continued our route towards Elsineur (or Helsingör), where we arrived after an easy march of five days, during which there occurred nothing of any consequence save an occasional quarrel with the boors.
On the route I had many opportunities of paying to Ernestine all those little attentions which gallantry inculcates, and affection inspires. The constant change of scene, for each night we halted in a different town, kept her mind employed, and drew her away from her own sorrows; but still they would recur, again and again, with greater force, because she had permitted herself to be for a time comparatively placid.
The only scene in Zealand that elicited an observation from her was the royal forest of Sora, and its pretty town, which stood on the margin of a deep dark lake, dotted by snow-white swans. We approached it by a bank, which was laid across a marsh and formed a roadway, bordered on each side by trees, and terminated by a gate.
If some of my brother officers had not acquainted Major Fritz of the tenor of my intimacy with Ernestine, no doubt the condolences and attentions he would have bestowed on a girl so attractive, would have been overpowering and intrusive; but though the gallant musketeer of Sleswig was enchanted by her beauty, he was compelled to keep his vivacity and admiration within the narrow bounds allotted by the most frigid politeness; for I believe he knew that I was one whose temper would not brook much trifling. Still he could not restrain his propensity to jest, and was wont to say at times, when we were smoking a pipe together on the march, or sipping a can of wine at a halt—
"Ah—oh!—I see how it is, devilish well; one does not require the eyes of Argus for that."
"For what, Herr Major?"
"That we shall not be long in cantonments before you will commit something in the way of matrimony; though a wife is a deuced incumbrance to a soldier of fortune. In fact, long before we fight our way to Vienna, I expect to see you the delighted father of a little brood of bare-legged Scots, subsiding down into a staid old fellow, and a pattern of all the domestic virtues."
"In these I shall never be rivalled byyou, Fritz."
"Der Teufel, no! If I have my pipe and my horse, my sword and a few dollars in my purse, a friend to chat to and an occasional pretty girl to toy with, the world, and all the domestic virtues to boot, may go and be hanged for aught that I would care."
Three miles from Elsineur the brave old King of Denmark came on horseback to meet us, accompanied by his Live Knecht, the Count of Rantzau, the Barons of Klosterfiörd, Fœyœ, and other knights of the Armed Hand. This stout monarch, who was still as keen an admirer of beauty as when a stripling of eighteen, first paid his respects to Ernestine, and, alighting from horseback, stood hat in hand at the door of the caleche. Unaware of all that had happened, he asked where her "pretty sister was."
Then Ernestine could no longer restrain her tears, and told her sorrowful story.
King Christian's solitary eye, glistened at her narrative. He kissed her hand, and then patted her on the head, as a father would have done; for though a king, and one as brave as ever wore a crown, or drew a sword, he was a good old soul.
"Poor child!" said he; "my heart bleeds for you, but, if possible, forget the past in contemplating the future. We cannot alter it; even the great Master of heaven and earth himself, with all his power and majesty, though he may avert the evils or change the events of the future, cannot control the past. It is unalterable."
From a hill above Elsineur the view was lively, beautiful, and even impressive. On one side lay the flat and low, but green promontory, grasping the narrow gate of the Baltic, with its white town spreading irregularly along the slope, and over looked by the square and massive castle of Cronborg, in the vaults of which, the legends say, old Holgier Danske and his long bearded Knechts have been seated round a stone table for centuries; and there the fat and well-fed Danish soldiers hear the occasional clash of their axes and hauberks, during the still, dark hours of their midnight guard.
Away on the west stretched the level shore of Denmark, with little tufts of coppice and gentle hills of sand, rising from immense plains, where wind-mills were tossing their light arms on the breeze. On the east, rough Sweden reared its mighty mountains and tremendous rocks, which the earthquakes and thunderbolts of an antediluvian world had cleft and rent into steep summits, starting boldly and bluffly forward from a sky of blue, and tinted with the rosy light of a setting sun; between these peaks, and beyond them, lay its deep dark vales and old primeval woods, its vast lakes and foaming rivers; its scenery stern and magnificent, like that of our mother Caledonia.
The setting sun was gilding the copper roofs of the four large turrets or corner towers of Cronborg, and throwing their shadows far upon the azure waters of the Sound, then dotted by the white sails of many a passing ship. I remember to have seen an original letter, written from this castle, by his Majesty James VI. to Alexander Lord Spynie, anent the erection of the bishopric of Moray into a temporal lordship.*
* The letter referred to by Captain Rollo, is now among the Denmylne MSS.
Five casemated bastions faced the landward, and one, mounted with cannons-royale, swept the narrow gate, where Christian IV. had again begun to levy an ocean toll upon the ships of all nations. Except those of the Scots, who were in alliance with Denmark, every vessel lowered her topsail, and showed her flag for five minutes, or a cannon-shot came booming upon her from Cronborg. This toll was originally exacted on account of certain buoys, by which the Danish government marked the dangerous shoals, and for certain lights burned upon the coast by night. Previous to 1582, England paid a rose-noble for every ship that passed the Sound, and her vessels lowered their topsails; but in consequence of the double marriages and ancient friendship between Denmark and Scotland, the ships of the latter nation passed the fort with St. Andrew's ensign flying and all their sails set.
At the gate of Helsingör, we were met by our colonel, Sir Donald Mackay, who with five hundred good recruits had arrived from Scotland three days previous. As we marched in, with pipes sounding, drums beating, and colours flying, these recruits mingled with our ranks, in search of friends and relations, brothers and kinsmen, and there arose a clamour of joyous congratulations, mingled with exclamations of sorrow, for many a man who was missing, and whom the new-comers had hoped to see and to greet.
Some inquired for brothers and fathers, and were answered that they were lying in their graves at Bredenburg, the Boitze, at Eckernfiörd, or other places. These announcements cast a shadow over their obstreperous joy; while the news they brought us from Scotland were of the most varied description, and led us to believe, that erelong all our swords and our valour would be required to vindicate the rights and the dignity of Scotland against her native prince, and his meddling subjects of England.
Sir Donald handed me a letter from Dominie Daidle, who had prayed him, when passing through Cromartie, to deliver it to me, "if he found me in the body." It was written, as the Dominie said, by the express order of the laird, my father, who (poor man!) was no deacon at penmanship.
All were in good health at Craigrollo; all congratulated me on my promotion to the command of a company, and so forth. Even my father was beginning to take an interest in my success, and regretted my absence. "The muckle spune——" but here the Dominie had drawn his pen through the words, as if he had changed his mind, and went on with other information. My three brothers had recently had some hard work in recovering certain herds of our cattle, which had been borrowed, sans leave, by the caterans of the Black Isle. In this service, Finlay had received a slash from an axe, and Farquhar a dab from a biodag; but, thanks to Providence, and the salves of old Mhona Toshach, the poor lads were doing well. Then came all the news of the district. Urquhart of Cromartie had won his famous plea anent his niece's tocher before the Lords of Session; but as the lord justice-general was his kinsman, auld Sir Thomas was aye fortunate inhispleas. Dalblair had come down the burn-side with four-and-twenty Hielandmen, and burned the tower of his auld enemy, Camstrairy; but had been put to the horn, and was now fled from the kingdom to France or England. The laird of Brea had burned the clachan of St. Martin's, because Gilbert Blakhal, a seminary priest, had been hiding there, and so forth. Then came various messages to soldiers of the regiment. "Tell Alister Glas from Kessock, that his mother received the fifty dollars that he sent; and that his father, puir bodach! mistook another man's kye for his own, and bade farewell to this world at Crieff, last Lammas-tide. Tell Rori Beg, from Brea, that his sister went off with the Egyptians to the Lowlands, and has not since been heard of; but the laird swears he will hang every man and mother's son of them that pass this way in future, for she was the bonniest lass on the barony. Tell Gillian M'Bane, that his brother, the sailor, has been seized and made a slave by the cruel pirates of Barbary, with twenty other mariners of the good shipBon Accord, of Aberdeen, but we raised a subscription here to buy him off, and the laird has given twenty crowns Scots towards the gude work. Kynnoch, the provost of Forres, was burned yesterday as a warlock and traitor.
"There are doleful troubles brewing in the south," continued the dominie, "and a war with England is confidently looked for. Maist men wish it, for there are sic swarms o' idle callants biding about every hall and homestead—and war must come; for flying rumour saith, that our Scottish clergy have petitioned the king against the Five obnoxious Articles of Perth, and that he hath urged the Archbishop of St. Andrews to enforce the Episcopal order. The cloud gathers, and the storm groweth. A little while, and we shall see the one darken, and the other burst over the length and breadth of the land. Mark me, Master Philip, a day of dule is coming, when all those gallant Scots who are now fighting the battles of Denmark, Sweden, Bohemia, and Almainie, will be summoned home to protect (against the king and the aggressive English) that holy kirk which Knox and Wishart founded, and those institutions which our forefathers transmitted to us—even as we are bound to transmit them unimpaired to our posterity."
In fact, the acuteness of my old dominie enabled him to perceive those storms then darkening the horizon of Scottish politics, but which, to more superficial observers, were as yet invisible.
Since the death of Gabrielle, Ernestine had become more than ever impatient and anxious to rejoin her father, who (as the king informed her) was now at Stralsund, in command of a brigade of cavalry, and who probably supposed that all this time his daughters had been safely at Falster with the old queen-dowager.
Stralsund was now in a desperate state, and no time was to be lost in hastening to its rescue. Thus, in one hour after we entered Elsineur, we embarked on board the fleet, and sailed for the beleaguered city.
Ernestine and her two attendants were the only females on board the king's ship, where, by the judicious management of my friend, the Baron Karl—then acting as quartermaster-general—I had the good fortune to be embarked with my company. For the first time since we left Hesinge, I perceived a smile on the face of Ernestine; this was when the vessels were got fairly under weigh, and, squaring their yards to the northern gale, stood down the Sound with all their sails set, just as the sun sank behind the spires of Elsineur.
"I am now fairly on my way to my father," said she.
"And to leave me?"
The smile died away, and she gave me a pleading glance.
She sat long beside me on the deck, wrapped up in a well-furred mantle, nor did she bid me adieu for the night until we were far past the isle of Hueen, the residence of Tycho Brahe (and then famous for four castles, said by the Danish legends to have been built by the children of Huenella the giantess), and had reached that part of the straits where they widen to twenty-five and thirty miles in breadth, and the distant spires of Landscrona faded from our view.
After she retired I paced the deck alone (being captain of the military watch), rolled in my plaid, and smoking a German pipe. I was thoughtful, and looked forward, with no pleasant anticipations, to our arrival at the great city of Stralsund; for there I would be separated from Ernestine for a long and indefinite period. Her father and I were the servants of hostile kings; and, though near kinsmen (but, as yet, the count knew not that), were the leaders of soldiers who were the enemies of each other; and all that I could hope for now, was to be favoured with bearing the flag of truce by which Ernestine would be finally guided to the Imperial tents.
Near me a number of our soldiers of the watch were telling stories, and sat in a circle on the main deck, with their plaids and bonnets drawn over their ears. I drew near to listen, and thus wiled away the hours of the night.
Morning came again: another part of the coast and a wider sea were in view. The grey clouds which had veiled the sky, and shed a cold hue on the waters, were rent asunder, as if by the broad wave of some mighty hand—by Odin himself, the king of spells; and through the gap a blaze of saffron light was shed upon the fertile isle of Amack and Zealand's level shores—level save where a little chalky cliff, a venerable tower, or a clump of trees rose against the sky—part of that long succession of wood-bordered lawns which spread, with villas, cottages, and gardens, along the beautiful but monotonous coast from Elsineur to Copenhagen.
Opposite, bleak Scania reared up her iron and precipitous front, above which, and amid a pile of purple clouds, the sun was rising; and when these clouds were rolled away towards the north, the sky appeared in all its cold and Swedish purity of blue. At sea one's spirit naturally becomes exhilarated on a fine morning, when with a beautiful sunrise the wind is fair, and all the fleet are rolling before it, until their yard-arms almost dip, and we have our friends exchanging signals from the sides of the vessels; but I felt—I know not why—none of that ardour with which I should have hailed our entrance upon such an arena of war and glory as Stralsund: a foreboding of approaching sorrow—conduced probably by the certainty that, within a week at least, I would be separated from Ernestine—oppressed me, and I looked forward with no emotion of pleasure to the day we should drop our anchors on the Pomeranian shores.
Long ere the noonday sun had brightened the rippling water, and tinted with yellow the faint blue Scanian peaks, the towers of Kiöbenhafn, and the turrets of the old castle of Christianborg, faded away or sank into the gulf of Kjöge; the point of Falsterboro' in Sweden rose out of the water, and then we were breasting the short, foamy waves of the Baltic sea.
Stralsund was now the largest and most wealthy city in the Duchy of Pomerania. Boasting of an origin that dated from Sünno II., king of the Franks, and deriving its name from the narrow Sund that lies between it and the isle of Rügen, it had gradually become a great commercial city, with vast trade and ample privileges, which its burghers had successfully defended against all princes who had endeavoured to subvert or subdue them; and once they had opposed with success and with victory the united arms of Sweden, Denmark, and ten other principalities. From thenceforward the stout burghers were considered unconquerable, and their city impregnable. Jaromar, prince of Rügen, increased the city in 1209, and his son first fortified it; after this its walls became gradually stronger, and there were no less than six gates and as many bridges facing the Sound, which extends one mile in breadth between it and Rügen. To the landward it was fenced round by regular bulwarks, and the lake of Franken, a falcon-shot in width; over this was a high causeway, with dams and bridges, every approach to which was barred by bastions and cavaliers, mounted by brass guns, and swept by numerous casemates.
Under the Count of Carlstein, a strong brigade of horse and foot lay intrenched before the gate that faced the causeway and lake of Franken. Major-general Arnheim assailed the right flank of the city, and Wallenstein in person pressed it on the left; but Stralsund, being open to the sea, was supplied with provisions from that quarter for a time, as all the shipping sent by Sigismund, king of Poland, to the assistance of the Emperor, had been sunk by the Scottish fleet in the Danish service—thus the Imperial generalissimo of the northern seas had not a single ship wherewith to blockade the harbour.
Colonel Heinrich Holka, whom Christian had appointed governor of Stralsund, with a mixed force of Scottish and Danish infantry, had considerably weakened his resources by neglect; and at the most desperate crisis of the siege, had found time to take unto himself a young and beautiful wife, celebrating his nuptials in a public manner, amid the dismayed and disheartened citizens, and immediately under the shot of the Imperial batteries. This act was deemed alike unwise, and at such a time improper. Poor Holka was displaced, and Field-marshal Sir Alexander Leslie of Balgonie (in Fifeshire), a cavalier who served the King of Sweden, and whose skill, as displayed in after years in Lower Saxony, and in the ever memorable wars of the National Covenant, must always mark him as a man of the highest military genius, was appointed to govern, defend, and rescue Stralsund.
Enraged by the affront, Colonel Holka changed banners, and joined the Emperor, who created him a count, and gave him a regiment of infantry. He, moreover, changed his religion no less than three times; but, being seized by the plague, died at last a Protestant, leaving behind him the usual reputation of the Imperialists—that of having been a wealthy, rapacious, dissolute, and ferocious soldier.
On the same evening that Christian, from the westward, sailed into the narrow strip of water between Rügen and Stralsund, a fleet, having the three crowns of Sweden flying at the mast-head of each ship, entered the east end of the Sound, having on board Sir Alexander Leslie, and five thousand of the gallant and well-appointed Scottish veterans of the glorious Gustavus—the star of the north! When anchoring close beside us, the Swedes opened their red ports and fired a royal salute on learning that King Christian was in the bay. Their sides were lined by men, and many a cry of welcome, of greeting, and recognition, were joyfully given and warmly responded to. The artillery of the town had no time to salute either of the fleets; for at that crisis the cannoniers of Wallenstein (who on the preceding night had returned from Gustraw) were redoubling their efforts, and his batteries were firing furiously on the city.
It was at that very time, when the united fleets of Christian IV. and Marshal Leslie anchored off the city, that Wallenstein, who from an eminence was watching us through his Galileo glass, swore so impiously—
"By the wounds of God! I will take Stralsund, even if He slung it in chains between the heavens and earth! I will make these Scottish wolves eat each other up, and teach them that Protestantism was buried on the day when I was born!"
And in a burst of angry fervour he kissed a consecrated medal, which had been suspended round his neck when a child by his mother, and which had never since been for a moment from his person. It was one of those said to have been struck at Rome, to commemorate the massacre of St. Bartholomew; but with what truth I pretend not to say.
Shot could not reach the seaward side of the city, therefore we were comparatively safe.
The evening sun was shining on its towers and spires, and on the blue water that reflected them; and by my side stood Ernestine, pale and agitated, between the expectation of meeting her father—of weeping on his breast, and pouring out her tale of sorrow there; and at the necessity for leaving me when about to engage in all the dangers of a desperate siege. She placed her arm through mine, and we stood in silence. I occasionally pressed her hand as if to reassure and remind her that I was still by her side; and divined her thoughts, which wandered to the faint white line that gleamed afar off in the sunset, and indicated the Imperial tents, visible between some of the openings of that stately city, where so many of our Scottish soldiers fought so nobly, and where, alas! so many found their last home; for the siege of Stralsund was one of the most determined and desperate events of the great German war—the sack of Magdeburg excepted.
In the still evening air the boom of the cannon was incessant on the landward or opposite side of the city; and as the shadows deepened we could distinguish the lurid flashes reddening behind the outline of the spires and houses. Above them, in the blue sky, there hung the mingled smoke of the daily contest, deepening and darkening over the city as a pall—and a veritable pall it was; for under it many a brave fellow found a soldier's death, and a soldier's coffinless grave.
"You still gaze at the Imperial tents, dear Ernestine," said I. Her eyes were full of tears.
"Yes, Philip; for now we must part, and the sooner it is over the better—for the sooner you will see me again. The king is approaching, ask him concerning my transmission—now—now! there is not a moment to be lost!"
I took off my bonnet and approached Christian IV., but paused on seeing our colonel, Sir Donald, in the act of presenting a greyhaired cavalier, who had just come on board. He was plainly accoutred in an unlaced buff-coat and black iron cuirass, over which hung the Swedish order of the Tower and Sword.
"Stay, Philip," said Ian; "that is the great Sir Alexander Leslie, the conqueror of the Poles at Dantzig."
I looked with interest at this remarkable man, whose talent, bravery, and adventurous genius had won him a European reputation, and were yet to make him the founder of a noble Scottish family. He was short in stature, and somewhat decrepit in figure; but had a round and pleasant face, a short beard and mustaches, well pointed up; grey hair shorn short,à la soldatesque, and a visage embrowned by constant exposure to the weather.
I heard him acquaint the king of the number of his regiments and their colonels, among whom I remember the Lord Spynie, Colonel Alexander Seaton, and Sir Patrick Ruthven, of loyal and gallant memory.
In the midst of this, Christian's eye had observed me standing bonnet in hand, a little in the background, and he immediately said—
"Do you wish to address me, Herr Captain?"
"Whenever your majesty is at leisure."
"Speak now, Mein Herr."
"The daughter of Count Carlstein, whom your majesty has been pleased to protect, has sent me to beg that you will have the kindness to order her transmission, to that part of the Imperial lines where the troops of the count, her father, are cantoned."
"No officer in Stralsund would venture on such a service," said Sir Alexander Leslie, who was pleased to survey me with particular attention.
"Is the duty so sharp here, marshal?" asked the king.
"No man can venture a pistol-shot from the walls, as I am informed by Colonel Holka."
"Desperate though it be," said I; "I will gladly undertake this duty."
"Captain Rollo is one of my best officers," his majesty was pleased to reply; "and I assure you, marshal, that I cannot afford to lose him."
Old Sir Alexander Leslie, who had given a casual glance at Ernestine, and had perceived, as the wind blew her veil aside, that she possessed uncommon personal attractions, gave me a knowing smile, and said—
"Captain, it is alike a moral and physical impossibility to communicate in any way with the Imperialists, who fire indiscriminately upon every one, and shoot all that dare approach their posts, even under cartel. Give my word—the word of auld Balgonie, to the young lady, and say that unless, with woman's wilfulness, she prefers danger to safety, she cannot now be transmitted to the Imperial camp; but that until her friends become more courteous, until they are vanquished or the city falls, she shall have the best house in Stralsund. Does this meet with your majesty's approval?"
"In every way, Sir Alexander. You have spoken my thoughts and wishes regarding a charming young lady, whom I pledged my word to protect; and whom I now confide to your care. You have heard, madam, the views of our brave marshal."
Ernestine bowed with a sweet smile to his majesty, and with the dignity of a queen—a Spanish, and not a German one.
I own this arrangement did not displease me; and, after explaining to Ernestine the impossibility of reaching the Imperial camp at present, I added every thing else that might console her. Other ideas came into my head; and it seemed to me that Colonel Holka, in marrying his pretty young wife amid the turmoil of a protracted siege, took neither a bad nor unwise method of solacing himself during the horrors by which he was no doubt surrounded.
These thoughts recurred to me again and again. The advantage that would accrue to Ernestine in having a legitimate protector was quite apparent; but then her sister's recent death, and her present helpless condition, restrained me from advancing such a project. Moreover, to the count it might seem that an undue advantage had been taken of those peculiar circumstances by which she had been thrown among us so strangely and alone.
"We have sharp service before us here, Ian," said I, as in the cold grey light of an autumn morning we paraded on deck next day for disembarkation.
"Yes, Philip, and that omens of coming events may not be wanting, harken to the news brought from the city by Major Fritz!"
"News," said that cavalier, as he assisted his friend Karl to clasp on his cuirass; "by my soul 'tis enough to make one's hair stand on end, and to frighten a troop-horse!"
"Quite a prodigy, is it Fritz?" asked Karl.
"Gentlemen," continued the major with all seriousness, "the wife of Colonel Dübbelsteirn has just been delivered of a fine little boy—"
"Bah—and what is there in that?" asked M'Alpine, and several of our officers.
"What is there in it?" retorted the Danish major, indignantly; "there is something very remarkable, when we consider the way it came into the world!"
"Has it a tail?" asked Kildon.
"Or horns?" added Culcraigie.
"It is quite unlike any of you," retorted Fritz; "'tis a plump little boy, as fat as Bacchus, or the colonel himself (and we all know that he fully realizes the old Friesland proverb,Grette arsen behove wyde brœken.) The baby has been born in buff-coat and jack-boots, like a little trooper, and the whole city is ringing with the tidings of so marvellous a birth."
"Buff-coat and jacks—by Heaven, he is laughing at us!" said our Celts, twisting their mustaches.
"I assure you, gentlemen, that it is quite as the major says," said Karl; "but he has omitted to add that this miraculous bantling has the buttons of the Sleswig musketeers on its doublet——"
"A major's scarf," suggested Ian.
"And short brown mustaches," added Karl.
"Laugh as you please, gentlemen—but visit the Fraü Dübbelsteirn, and satisfy yourselves. Ha! the drums are beating,—there sound your pipes, gentlemen Schottlanders, and now for the shore!"*
* A similar prodigy is said to have happened in the city, stormed soon after by Pappenheim; a child was born insteel cap and cuirass!see the "Brief but authentic relation in High Dutch."
There was a solemn prayer given by our regimental preacher on deck, where all our soldiers paraded under arms, in full marching order; and he also gave us a brief discourse on that verse of Samuel, which records how Saul "gathered a host, smote the Amalekites, and delivered Israel out of the hands that spoiled them," applying it to the rescue of Stralsund from the fangs of the Empire.
We then disembarked in the Danish boats, and landed on the mole while the morning sun was yet low, and a dense bank of fog was rolling slowly upward from the strip of water that lay between us and the Isle of Rügen.
Well muffled up in Russian sables, with two female servants nestling beside her, Ernestine was rowed ashore in the barge of Sir Nikelas Valdemar, and the king's own Live Knecht and Baron Karl, the quartermaster-general, were desired to obtain for her a handsome and suitable mansion, among the many whose wealthy owners had abandoned them, and fled into Pomerania at the approach of Wallenstein. A residence was soon selected.
The rich hangings, the magnificently carved and gilded furniture, the chairs of white satin, brocaded with gold, the tables inlaid with ivory and ebony; jars of Dresden china, Japan canisters, Persian carpets, flowers in vases of Delft, and statues of Parisian alabaster—all that taste could invent and wealth procure, were remaining in this delightful billet, just as the rich corn-trader to whom the house belonged had left them. The rooms were all tapestried or panelled, and each panel was a picture representing Flemish ships and German farms, Dutchmen skating, and sea-pieces. The key which put us in possession of all these fine things, was the simple application of a musket-shot to the keyhole; and then, the door flew open.
The house was pleasantly situated, having in front a view of the Sound, with the Saxon and Pomeranian shores, while behind, it was completely screened from the fire of the Imperial batteries, by the masses of intervening streets. Thick clumps of Dutch poplars, with bright green foliage, half hid the front of the house, which stood a few yards back from the main street. A long flight of steps ascended to its gaudily painted door, and on each step stood two porcelain vases, with flowers in full bloom.
Ernestine was charmed by the appearance of the place; but said that, with all its splendour, she would have preferred a corner of her father's tent.
Other ladies, the wives of fugitive German nobles, were placed in the same house. Thus, in the hope that they would form a pleasant little community, whose safety depended upon our valour, we marched, with drums beating and colours flying, to the Frankendör, the post assigned us; and the scene—as the event proved—of the most hazardous and desperate service in that beleaguered city.
It was the weakest point, too; otherwise the old Scottish Invincibles had not got it to defend.
The aspect of the citizens—men who until this time had given their whole souls to peaceful occupations, and to the quiet acquisition of wealth—men whose ledgers had long since superseded their Bibles—whose God was a mere golden idol; whose whole thoughts were of pounds, dollars, and stivers—hides, tallow, corn and cheese, ships and storehouses; whose passion was wealth, and whose arid hearts had been ossified to mere ink-horns, was pitiable in the extreme. In neglected attire, with wan and dejected countenances, they moved stealthily about, their eyes at times aghast with terror, and always expressive of anxiety and alarm; while surveying ruefully their deserted mole, their places of business thronged by soldiers and encumbered by the munition of war; their best houses and public buildings turned into barracks, or battered, dinted, and defaced by cannon-shot; their trees cut down to form abbatis; their pavements torn up, and thoroughfares trenched, to make parapets, breastworks, and traverses; their market-places ringing incessantly to the tramp of armed troopers, the clank of artillery-wheels, the rattle of drums, and the wild yell of the Scottish war-pipe, as the various duties of defending their beautiful city—now transformed into one vast garrison—were vigorously executed under the orders of Sir Alexander Leslie.
With all the recklessness of foreign soldiers defending a town, about the actual protection of which they cared not the value of a rush, our Danes and Germans destroyed and defaced whatever they could not defile. The churches were turned into hospitals, where the wounded and dying lay side by side upon beds or pallets of straw, presenting a hideous combination of suffering and misery. Chapels were converted into cooking places, where the messmen lighted fires on the pavement; and where the soldiers laughed and sang, as their camp-kettles simmered upon fires that were composed of carved oak-work, altar-screens, pews, pulpits, and whatever came first to hand and bill-hook; and where the flames, thus recklessly lit, blazed above the ashes of the dead, encircling the gothic pillars, licking their foliaged capitals, filling the vaulted roofs with smoke, and blackening the fretted stone-work, which they failed to ignite.
In other churches, the Baron Karl's pistoliers and the cavalry were cantoned; and there the long legends and brasses on the pavement, expressive of piety and faith, of human vanity or earthly mortality, as they enumerated the life, the death, and rank of those who slept below, were defaced by horses hoofs, or hidden by the litter and mire that defiled those stately temples, which had been founded and consecrated in the earlier ages of Christianity by some of those northern missionaries, the relation of whose labours were the theme and the glory of our old friend, Father Ignatius d'Eydel.
We marched to the Frankendör, a ravelin that lay immediately without the walls, and was an indifferent breastwork, before which lay a dry ditch, having in its front the lake of Franken; on the opposite bank, the brigade of Count Carlstein (old Rupert-with-the-Red-plume) was securely ensconced, though within less than the distance of a cannon-shot, by trenches and embankments, basketed up for their culverins. These, for the present, were silent; but we could perceive that the Imperialists were busy erecting two camarade batteries of ten guns each, to which we could only oppose a species oftambourwork, which we foresaw would afford us very little shelter unless strengthened.
Wallenstein's line of circumvallation reached the count's left flank; Arnheim's line reached his right: thus the unhappy city had been completely enclosed on the landward side, and cut off from all the supplies it usually received from Mechlenburg, Saxony, and Pomerania.
Major-general Johan Gorge Arnheim, a gentleman of Brandenburg, and director to the elector of Saxony, had the third command in the army of Wallenstein, and was one of the bravest, and most accomplished soldiers in the Imperial army; but to military talents of the highest class, he unfortunately united all the craft and dissimulation of a statesman. Hence his treachery to the Poles and to the Swedes on many occasions; till even Wallenstein suspected him of sinister designs against himself, and despatched him from Stralsund, with 10,000 men, to the assistance of Sigismund, King of Poland, who was then at war with Gustavus, dismissing him with this brief and vain-glorious order:—
"Arnheim—March! drive Gustavus out of Poland; and, in case you fail, send to tell him that I—Wallenstein—will come and effect it."
Sir Alexander Leslie, who was designated "Governor of all the cities upon the Baltic coast," made a rapid and able survey of the whole town; and, for its immediate defence, ordered the erection of new barricades to defend our avenues, and batteries to sweep those of the enemy. Fascines were made and filled with earth; all houses near the gates were loopholed for musketry, and had their lower rooms filled with stones and rubbish, to prevent the passage of the German cannon-shot; while all edifices of every kind that impeded the fire of our batteries or musketry, were instantly levelled to the ground.
In every way the Scottish marshal proved himself worthy of the high trust reposed in him by the allied princes of the north. While some of our soldiers who had been bakers (or, as we call them,baxters), were ordered to prepare vast quantities of biscuit for the garrison and the citizens, others were employed in making up ball-cartridges, cannon baskets, platforms, and other military works. New wells were sunk, the old repaired, and tanks were filled with water, while the hospitals were cleaned out and purified. Amid all this lively bustle—which was a severe reprehension on the inertness of Colonel Holka—the poor citizens forgot the horrors of their two months' siege, and worked among our soldiers with ardour and satisfaction.
Wallenstein was aware that 5000 Scots had entered the city under Leslie, whom he knew to be the most able general of the great Gustavus. He was also aware, by what he knew of Leslie's military character, acuteness, and resources, that, unless crushed, he might be foiled before that city, he had so solemnly sworn to win; thus, taking advantage of the unusual commotion within it, he made a fresh reconnaissance, and, observing that the Frankendör was the weakest and least defensible post, resolved on assailing it during that night.
Our soldiers were bivouacked within this ravelin that overlooked the Frankenlake. There I had left them for an hour to visit Ernestine; but the hour gradually extended from one to two, and from two to three, and the church clocks which still survived the various bombardings of the last few weeks, were just striking the hour of eleven, on the 24th of June—a day by old memories the dearest to a Scottish heart—when the report of two heavy cannon fired from the citadel, pealed over the roofs and streets of the unfortunate town, announcing a night attack.
The thought flashed like lightning upon me, that the regiment might be engaged—that I had been three hours absent, and that Sir Donald might miss me from my post. Thus, to start up, to snatch my sword and steel-bonnet, to press my lip to the pale cheek of Ernestine, and hurry into the street, were all the work of a moment, and I was away!
A storm was raging, and though the season was summer, and the month was June, it was a severe one. A torrent of rain had fallen, and a tempest of wind had swept over the city, levelling many of the shattered houses on the stray passengers and on our working parties; but I had been so pleasantly occupied during my tête-à-tête with Ernestine, that I had heard nothing of it; and now, on issuing into the street, I was surprised to find it covered by puddles of mud and water, while dust, fragments of tiles, and wet leaves, were swept past me on the hurrying wind. Dark clouds enveloped the sky, and after pausing for a moment in the dark and unlighted thoroughfare, irresolute which way to turn, the report of a volley of musketry drew me towards a part of the long and deserted way, by which I reached the Frankendör, arriving just in time to find my comrades about to be engaged, and our drums beating thePoint of War. Being wetted by the rain their sound was dull and hollow, but the wild pipes were shrill and high as ever.
Though the scenery was flat and level, there was something impressive and terrific in the storm, and the night was so dark, that, when I assumed command of my company at one of the faces of the ravelin, I could not discern the enemy.
Before us lay the dark bosom of the Frankenlake; above was a black and stormy sky, where enormous masses of vapour were rolling and intermingling on the wings of that squalling wind, which swept over Stralsund in loud and incessant gusts. The rain had ceased, and there was at times a close, oppressive, and sulphurous heat.
Suddenly, like a mighty gorge between two black mountains, the clouds were divided in heaven; a lambent light edged with brilliance their torn and rugged outlines, and the forked lightning was shot from the opening, like long red arrows of fire.
For a moment, while these levin brands were lighting earth and heaven with their ghastly glare, we could distinctly perceive the bastions of the ravelin, and the ranks of the regiment; for all its bonnets of steel, and bright musket-barrels, glittered in the gleam above the stone parapet and redoubts of turf. I could see the strong beeches, bending like willows before the breath of the sweeping storm, the turgid waters of the Frankenlake, and the countless bright points—helmets, pike-heads and musket-barrels, cuirasses and standards, of two vast columns of infantry, that moved stealthily round each flank of its margin, to assail on two quarters the post we had orders to defend to the last—the Frankendör—the most untenable, and the weakest redoubt in the whole city of Stralsund.
The lightning passed away; the bright edges faded from the clouds, and the bosom of the lake and all its banks vanished into darkness, as instantaneously as they had become visible; but we had seen enough to acquaint us with the force, disposition, and intentions of the foe.
The thunder then rattled in deep hoarse peals across the sky, and died away in echoes over the isle of Rügen, and along the Pomeranian shore.
"Now, my brave lads—cock up your bonnets!" cried Sir Donald, whose deep and powerful voice rose above even the howling of the stormy wind; "'tis the enemy—the Imperialists, who mean to beat up our quarters, and have sworn to beat us out of them; so let us give these gentlemen a good account of ourselves. Musketeers—look to your pouches and hammer-stalls."
These leather covers, by which our men protected their locks and matches from rain, were instantly unstrapped from the muskets, the pouches were opened, and I could perceive the red glow-worm-like gleam, as each musketeer lit his match at his comrade's lock, and all stood ready to fire upon the enemy, waiting only for the order in silence, and amid a stillness broken only by the sweeping gusts.
Another gleam of light shot between an opening in the clouds, and we saw the advancing columns nearer still—so near that their ladders, and other paraphernalia of escalade, were visible. Then the colonel spoke to the pipers who stood by his side, and the onset burst from their instruments; but the scream of the chanters and bray of the drones were lost and drowned in the roar of the musketry, for seven hundred barrels of steel were levelled at once over the parapet, and seven hundred flashes of red fire burst at once upon the murky night. Again the arms were loaded, and the rattle of iron ramrods and brass butts!—the bustle of charging home the cartridges, casting about, blowing matches, and priming pans, became incessant; and with no other light to guide them than the occasional gleams of lightning, our soldiers poured volley after volley, on those close ridges of helmets, strewing the route of the Imperialists with dead and dying men.
Wild hurrahs, shrieks, and outcries, were tossed towards us on the gusty wind, or were borne away to the seaward; and now, to add tenfold grandeur to the terrible and magnificent scene, the Imperialists shot a succession of fireballs into the air, and each one, as it soared like a mountain of fire, shed a flood of brilliance upon the rippled lake, the smoky ravelin, and the columns of Spanish and Austrian musketeers who were pouring forward to the attack. The explosion of these fireballs, which sprung like rockets above the lake and sheeted it with light, until they fell, to splutter, hiss, and float upon its surface (for neither wind nor water could extinguish their flames), had a most fatal effect for the assailants themselves, by enabling us to direct our fire upon them with the deadliest precision.
"Unhorse me yonder fellow with the Red Plume!" said Sir Donald Mackay. "By my father's soul! 'tis his example alone that leads yon wavering column on! Down with him! level surely—Gillian M'Bane, thou art a deadly shot at a red deer or a capercailzie. My silver brooch to thine, if thou makest yonder fellow kiss the turf."
"'Tis Rupert-with-the-Red-plume!" cried a hundred voices. My heart leaped at the cry; but, before I could speak, Gillian M'Bane had fired, and I could perceive the cavalier indicated by the colonel—and who was an officer magnificently armed and accoutred, brandishing his long sword, and conspicuous by a scarlet plume—reel in his saddle; but the shot had only cut the lacing of his helmet, which rolled among his horse's feet; and still he pressed on, with his long grizzled hair, and longer cavalier-lock streaming on the wind.
"Spare that officer!" I exclaimed, striking up five or six levelled muskets with my sword. "I owe him my life, and more than my life; besides, he is my own near kinsman, though he serves the German emperor."
I spoke but in time! another moment had sent the poor count into eternity; for among our soldiers there were some of the most deadly marksmen, with bow or musket, that the Highlands could produce. For a whole hour we held the foe completely in check, and with comparatively little loss; for our parapet was breast high, and in many places defended or strengthened by the tambour work of palisades, which were ten feet long and each six inches thick, driven into the glacis three deep, and closely loopholed. These had been considerably injured by the discharges of the camarade battery; still they afforded us some protection, while, on the other hand, the Imperial columns suffered dreadfully.
Their front ranks were enveloped in smoke, from whence broke forth incessant flashes of fire; but, after four desperate attempts to cross the ditch and ascend the lower glacis, they were compelled to retire beyond the lake. The Spaniards fled with precipitation; but the Germans retreated slowly, with all the coolness, steadiness, and constitutional phlegm of their nation, and continued to fire occasional shots so long as we were within range of them.
By this time day had broken; a faint grey light had begun to steal along the waters of the Sound, gilding the church spires of Stralsund, the summits of the isle of Rugen, and whitening the pallid faces of the dead, who lay in hundreds by the shore of the Frankenlake, with distorted visages, eyeballs glazed, and jaws relaxed; for the aspect of those who die under the agony of gunshot wounds is often horrible.
The bright midsummer sun came up in his morning glory above the isle of Rugen, and the birds, as they sang their songs to the early day, twittered among the terrible debris of the past night's deadly work. The dew was on the verdant grass, and the bright flowers were raising their heavy cups and petals to that warm summer sun; but many a strong and many a brave man lay there, whose head would never rise again.
Many were lying there bleeding to death and crying aloud for help and for water; neither of which we could render, as the camarade battery and the fieldpieces had resumed their operations against the sconce; but many of the poor wretches crawled like bruised snails to the reedy margin of the shallow lake, and there perished miserably among the mud and slime, in futile efforts to quench their burning thirst.
During the whole day a cannonade was poured from every part of the city upon the trenches of Wallenstein, and with eighty pieces of cannon he replied. The walls seemed to be garlanded with fire, while the smoke ascended into mid air, and overhung all Stralsund. Before us, from one flank of the Imperial lines to the other, including the whole lake, long wreaths of pale blue smoke were floating, and in their bosom we heard the boom of the cannon, as the parallels drew nearer and more near, with the occasional patter of the quicker musketry.
Wallenstein, the soul of battle, had now for the first time found, in Leslie of Balgonie, an antagonist who was more than his equal, and who taught him the folly and impiety of the oath he had sworn—to storm Stralsund, even though it were slung in chains between the heavens and earth.
So passed the day, and in the streets, on the walls, and by the ravelins, as well as in the trenches of the enemy, the loss of life was terrible; but towards evening the cannonade began to slacken, when the pieces became too hot for loading.
On the right flank of the Frankendör a low vapour seemed to approach us, and steel was seen to glitter amidst it at times. A few balls from a demi-cannon searched its dark womb, and then we saw a column of horse retire with precipitation.
So closed the day.
The siege continued for several months, with various successes and repulses—with advances on one hand, and sorties on the other. The slaughter was great in the city, but greater in the trenches, where the dead lay in thousands, buried in shallow holes, and where the wild-dogs scraped away the earth by night, and the decaying masses tainted the humid summer air. From the walls we could easily distinguish where those hideous catacombs lay, and where the bodies, half decayed, were sweltering among the reeds and slime of the Frankenlake; for by day a dark cloud of flies swarmed over them, and by night the malaria that overhung the spot assumed an almost luminous tint. There, too, came the birds of prey; and there they remained hovering and gorging, until a musket-shot at daybreak put all to flight, save those whom the malaria, and their hideous repast, had rendered somewhat indisposed to fly.
Death had thinned the number of the citizens, whose aspect of misery increased daily; for the loss of friends, the loss of business, the destruction of their dwellings and property, the scarcity of money and of provisions, the prices of which were enormous, as all that our Fourriers could collect were seized and retained for the use of the troops; the aspect of each deserted holfe and bourse, where the merchants were wont to meet daily for the transaction of their lucrative and peaceful business—where vast sums once passed from pocket to pocket, and mighty deeds of transfer were executed—was also sorely changed. Torn down by the passing shot, columns, arcades, and balconies were strewn in fragments among the grass and moss that grew between the stones: here the trees, that whilome had shaded a pleasant boulevarde, had been cut down to form an abattis; there the pavement had been torn up to face a bastion, and vast gaps had been beaten in the solid walls.
The scarcity of food increased, until the soldiers, at last, were brought as low as the citizens, and we had little else to subsist on than a few handfuls of Hamburg meal per man. This we boiled into porridge and ate with a little butter, for we were destitute of milk; every cow, sheep, and goat having been shot and eaten, even to the hides and entrails, long ago. Succour and provision from Rügen and the sea had now been cut off by various gunboats and armed crayers sent by Wallenstein into the Sound, from whence a storm had blown the dismantled Danish fleet. Thus we had nothing before us but starvation or death; and Sir Donald frequently urged that we should all sally forth, sword in hand, and cut a passage to some seaport on the Saxon shore. But the stout Laird of Balgonie vowed that he would never thus desert a city entrusted to his care by the princes of the north; and that to leave the Stralsunders to their fate would be alike unworthy of ourselves and of the ancient military fame of the Scottish people.
This argument was conclusive, and we all resolved to make our graves on the shore of Pomerania, if Gustavus Adolphus could not march to our assistance. Of that we saw not the least probability, for at that time he had his hands full of work in Poland, where, with thirty thousand men (ten thousand of whom were Scottish infantry), he was besieging Dantzig, storming Newbürg, Strazbürg, Dribentz, Sweitz, and Massovia. As for the unfortunate King of Denmark, who was then hovering near Count Tilly, off the Holstein shore, we never expected the least relief from him. Pay we had none, and very little provisions, but we had plenty of powder and shot of every description. The garrison was now reduced to four thousand Scots, and one thousand Germans, Danes, and Frenchmen, all worn by incessant toil, and scarcity of food, for they had a strong city to defend against a hundred thousand men, in whose rear lay all the vast resources of Germany and Flanders; for Wallenstein could command every thing between the Baltic and the gates of Vienna.
Pressing on their works, his pioneers laid down their sap rollers, and dug trenches in new places, facing them internally with gabions and fascines, over which they flung the loose earth, and thus got rapidly under cover. Some of these pioneers were so bold in one place as to push their sap rollers to the foot of the outer glacis.
My daily visits to Ernestine threw a bright gleam of happiness athwart the murky cloud of war and desolation that surrounded us; and when seated by her side, in her pretty little boudoir, I forgot the miseries endured by us at the Frankendör, the desolation of the city, the desperate state—the starvation and death—to which we were hurrying, and which I strove to conceal from her for a time, but in vain.
Once, when I led her to the Frankendör during a brief cessation of hostilities, that she might see the white tents of her father's brigade, the wan visage, the anxious eyes, the tattered attire and fallen paunch of more than one once rotund and jovial city councillor, attracted her attention, and displayed, in language too powerful to be misunderstood, the undeserved miseries endured by the honest and industrious people of Stralsund.
Scottish porridge is certainly very good in its way; but as the best of food will pall the appetite by repetition, we soon tired of having nothing but porridge for breakfast, porridge for dinner, and porridge for supper. The tables of the Field-marshal commanding, of the burgomaster, and all the great men of the city, were limited to the same poor fare; and in some instances the aged, the sickly, and the mendicant, who were unable to raise the enormous sum for which an ounce of meal or of salted fish were sold in the market-place, were found dead in their litters of straw, or at the threshold of their doors, and reduced to mere skeletons.
War hardens the human heart, and love makes it selfish. I cared little for what happened to the poor citizens, provided Ernestine knew nothing of what they endured; but though Ian, Phadrig Mhor, and myself, parted with every thing we could spare—selling even our buckles, silver buttons, &c., to a Jew in the Platz, to procure the necessaries of life for her—even these began to fail, and in common with the rest I became desperate. About this time Sir Alexander Leslie obtained intelligence—how, I know not—that a train of waggons, laden with provisions for the Imperialists, were coming towards Stralsund from Greifswalde, a fortified town of Prussian Pomerania, situated about fifteen miles distant, at the confluence of the Reik with the Baltic. Of those waggons he determined to possess himself, and on that night (the first of September) ordered Sir Donald Mackay with our regiment of Strathnaver, the Lord Spynie with his Lowland musketeers, and Sir Ludovick Leslie with his old Scots regiment, to march at dusk; and (while he, in person, was diverting the enemy's attention by scouring their trenches) endeavour to fall upon the post of the quartermaster-general, to seize some of the laden waggons, and at all hazards bring them into Stralsund.
Of this intended outfall I did not inform Ernestine, for if I returned safe, all would be well, and she would thus escape a few hours of unnecessary alarm and grief; if I was slain, poor girl! she would hear of it soon enough, for evil tidings always fly faster than good.
We paraded in the market-place without our colours, and silently the priming and loading was proceeded with. Fortunately the night was gloomy, though the wind was still, and a dense vapour that came heavily up from the sea, spread over the land and effectually concealed us, as in three dense columns we issued from a gate of the town, and marching between the Greifswalde road and the margin of the Sound, on the left flank of the city, softly approached the unconscious enemy. In this sortie there occurred an incident which I cannot help relating, even at the risk of being considered superstitious.
"Ochone!" said Phadrig Mhor, as he shouldered his Lochaber axe, "there is many a pretty man marching out just now, that will never come in again."
"Most probably, Phadrig," said I; "but why croak in this solemn tone?"
"I could name two," said he, sinking his voice into a low and impressive whisper.
"Two—?"
"Ay, two, who will never march more—God bless and sain them both!"
"In the devil's name, what do you mean, Sergeant Mhor?"
"That to-night the kirk-bell of Gometra will toll."
"Well—and who will toll it?"
"How can I say, Captain Rollo—the fiend, perhaps; but this, I know, that it is no mortal hand that stirs its iron tongue. It tollswhenever a M'Alpine dies, and this night Red Angus will fall."
"Hush, Phadrig!" said I, impressed by his Highland solemnity of manner, "at such a time as this do not think of such things."
"I cannot help it. Last night I lay on guard at the Frankendör. My head was rolled in my plaid, and the cold earth was my bed, but I slept as sound as if my resting-place had been on the soft heather of Cairneilar or my dear mother's hut in Strathdee, and I had a dream between the passing night and the grey morning. I saw M'Alpine and M'Coll, even as you may see them now, each marching at the head of his company, like a stately Highland gentleman; but high upon the breast of each there was—a shroud—to mark that death was near. The hands of Mary and her Son be over them, for they are both gallant men! Red Angus is strong as Cuchullin, and M'Coll is unerring as Conloch; but if they escape the black work of to-night, I will never trust more in dreams, though my father was a Taischatr, and the Taisch runs in the blood."
"Hush—hush!" said Sir Donald; "silence in the ranks."
"The soldiers of the quartermaster-general are Spaniards," said M'Alpine, in a whisper; "who commands them?"
"Hector M'Lean, a gentleman of Mull."
"M'Lean of Lochdon?" asked Angus, becoming pale.
"The same," replied the colonel; "a desperate and determined fellow."
Angus sighed through his clenched teeth; his hazel eyes filled with fire, and with a darkened brow he strode on at the head of his company.
"'Tis M'Lean who robbed him of his wife," said the sergeant, giving my plaid a twitch. "If they meet, there will be bloody work; and, as I have said, before morning the bell of Gometrawill toll."
The night was dark, and a vapour from the sea rolled over the level land, concealing our movements. We passed the right flank of the enemy, by keeping so far out upon the shore that we marched mid-leg deep in the sea, where we were completely shrouded by the mist and gloom. All was still even in the Imperial camp, which lay partly on our right, and partly in our rear; lights twinkled at times among the tents and trenches, and the faint sound of voices in argument or merriment, or the scrap of some hoarse German drinking ditty, stole upon the night; but, unheard and unseen, we reached the Greifswalde road, and, according to the orders of Marshal Leslie, drew up in close columns under shelter of a thick wood, which grew on each side of the pathway. There we were to remainen perduefor three hours, after which we were to return to the city by the seashore; but, if we were discovered, or if the foe extended his flank towards the water, we ran the eminent risk of being cut off to a man. Even if we were successful—that is, if we captured the whole train of waggons, and succeeded in conveying them towards Stralsund, by breaking through the Austrians from their rear, it appeared to me that we would be swallowed up like Pharaoh's host, if not by waves of the sea, at least by the masses of men who were certain to close in upon us; but I knew not that, at the sound of the first shot, old Leslie was to sally forth at the head of his own regiment of Fife and Angus men, to scour the trenches of the enemy's left, and cause a complete diversion and confusion.
All occurred just as we would have wished. After two weary and anxious hours spent in the wood, listening to every passing sound, the cracking of whips, the creaking of wheels, and the heavy rolling sound of the laden wains, that groaned under their load of food (the very idea of which spread a glow from our hungry stomachs to our hearts), were heard approaching by the hard and dusty road from Greifswalde. At times we heard the drivers and the Croatian cavalry, which formed their escort, singing a wild chorus, that was swept past us upon occasional puffs of wind.
All our field-officers were on foot; each captain was at the head of his company; the pikemen were flanked by musketeers; the priming was looked to, and the matches were blown. By Sir Donald's orders, the regiments of Ludovick Leslie and the Lord Spynie drew up in line, flanked outwards, on each side of the road, but still under cover of the trees, and every man of them lay flat on the grass, with his weapon beside him. Our regiment (being then about a thousand strong) he divided into two wings. In person he led the right, and posted it across the roadway in front of the waggons, barring all passage. Ian led the left, with orders to "wheel, right shoulders forward, to close upon their rear, and cut the escort to pieces without a moment's hesitation, lest by their sharp sabres they might hamstring the horses, or sever the traces by which they drew the waggons."
These dispositions had scarcely been made when they were amidst us, and between our double lines—twenty waggons laden with bags of flour, and barrels of butter, beer, and brandy, each drawn by two horses, and escorted by two regiments of Croats and Pandoors, wearing short doublets of fur and chain-shirts, long white breeches, and triple-barred helmets, and armed with short crooked swords, iron maces, and long rifled muskets slung across their bodies.
"Ready—present—fire!" cried Sir Donald.
From the muzzles of eighteen hundred muskets the streaks of fire flashed upon the gloom of that darkened hollow, and struck the escort with terror and confusion, piling horses and men over each other in heaps. Then charging them headlong in the smoke, we closed in from four points with clubbed muskets, with levelled pike, with claymore, and Lochaber-axe; for we knew there was not a moment to be lost, as that volley would rouse all Wallenstein's mighty camp, like one vast hornet's nest upon us.
Taken at such disadvantage the Croats and Pandoors were soon routed, but not without a desperate struggle; for disdaining, or unable to use their long muskets, they attacked us with their cimetars. Their well-trained horses, light but active animals, with hides of spotless white, and long switch-tails, actually tore our men with their teeth like wild beasts; thus enabling their savage riders to make a terrible use of their slender lances, their sharp sabres, and maces of pointed steel, by one of which Captain M'Coll of that Ilk was struck down and left as dead. Shoulder to shoulder, Highlander and Lowlander poured through the narrow defile on each side of the waggons, driving out the Croats and Pandoors, forcing them by dint of pike and musket to retire in irremediable disorder, leaving at least five hundred men and horses strewn on the road. There, the killed and wounded Pandoors were distinctly visible by their white breeches and picturesque pelisses of white fur.
The waggons were now put in motion; and the drivers being all shot or unhorsed, a number of Spynie's pikemen, who had been Lowland plough-lads, sprang upon the trams or saddles, and grasped the reins; sword-points, pike-heads, and whips, were applied to the sluggish bullocks and Holsteiners; and at a tremendous pace the waggons were driven down towards the sea, the wheels bounding and crashing over the prostrate bodies of killed and wounded men and horses. Shrieks, yells, and hoarse maledictions followed us as we hurried towards the shore, forming in our ranks as we went. A partial gleam of moonlight now shot along the water, as it seemed between two banks of vapour. The aspect of the ocean, though it shone like a placid mirror, while shedding silent ripples on the yellow sand, stayed the fierce career of the horses, and they entered it fetlock deep, and then knee deep, with a slowness and caution that enabled us to overtake the waggons, and form in order between them and the now alarmed enemy, whose right flank we were skirting.
At that moment, far distant on the Imperial left, we heard several heavy volleys, and then one continued roar of musketry. This announced to us that Sir Alexander Leslie, with his own regiment of Scots, was scouring the trenches and causing a diversion in our favour. As the mist began to clear, we could perceive across the level landscape the locality of this other conflict by the murky air, the smoky, lurid and irregular light it occasioned.
This diversion was not so complete as the marshal expected it to prove; for the sudden clearing of the mist and the beaming of the moon upon the water, enabled Colonel M'Lean, who commanded a brigade of Spaniards on the Imperial right, to perceive the long and straggling line of men, horses, and waggons, dotting, as it were, with black spots the shining water, as they came out of one bank of vapour and vanished into another in the direction of the city.
Filing from his trenches by a double-quick march, the colonel (a brave soldier of fortune and a Catholic) brought his brigade of Spanish musketeers to the shore; and there, supported by a squadron of cuirassiers and some companies of Walloon infantry, threw forward his left flank to give us a cross fire.
Sir Donald, with our pikes, five hundred strong, led the van, which marched above their garters in the sea till every kilt was floating. The Spaniards fired a volley, by which, at least, one hundred men were shot, or drowned, by being severely wounded; but, ere they could reload, we were among them, and at their very throats; and now ensued one of the deadliest conflicts ever witnessed by the walls of Stralsund, since Jaromar built them by the Baltic sea.
The three regiments formed at once in brigade order by double companies, pikes in the centre and musketeers on the flanks; Sir Donald was in front, with his silver target braced upon his left arm, and his long claymore in his right hand.
"Santiago!" shouted the Spaniards of Camargo's regiment; "Santiago y cierra Espana!"
"Keep together like a wall!" exclaimed their colonel. "God and St. James of Compostella will open a path for us through this herd of Scottish curs."
Then came the hoarse hurrah of the German cuirassiers, and the wilder cheer of the Walloon infantry.
"Forward, gentlemen and comrades!" exclaimed Mackay, with a voice that swept over the water like a trumpet; "forward at push of pike, and hew me a passage through these Spaniards!"
"St. Andrew, St. Andrew!" cried Lord Spynie, who was on foot by his side, and the whole brigade repeated the old Scottish war-cry, as we swept forward splashing through the silvery water like a mighty phalanx towards the Spaniards, upon whom we burst with incredible fury, as I have said, before they had time to reload. Highland clansmen and Lowland musketeers went on like a wall of steel. It was a renewal of the wars of old; for again the dark-browed Celt and the fair-haired Goth were fighting against the descendants of the old Iberians.
Being formed in eight ranks deep, after the old fashion of Tilly, they withstood our charge with a solid front, and a ferocious conflict began; the pikemen charging with their shortened pikes, others plying their clubbed muskets like flails, and the officers using their claymores with both hands, or withdrawing their left only to handle their dirks, or fire their long Scottish pistols right into the eyes of the Spaniards.