206BOTHWELL BRIDGE

Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, III, 209, 1803; II, 226, 1833. From recitation.

The report of the success of the Covenanters at Drumclog brought four or five thousand malcontents into the rising, many of whom, however, were not radicals of the Hamilton type, but moderate Presbyterians. After not a little moving up and down, they established their camp on the nineteenth of June at Hamilton, on the south side of the Clyde, near the point where the river is crossed by Bothwell Bridge. They were deficient in arms and ammunition and in officers of military experience. “But,” as a historian of their own party says, “the greatest loss was their want of order and harmony among themselves; neither had they any person in whom they heartily centred, nor could they agree upon the grounds of their appearance.” Both before and after their final encampment at Hamilton, they were principally occupied with debating what testimony they should make against Popery, Prelacy, Erastianism, and the Indulgence, and whether their declaration should contain an acknowledgment of the king’s authority. Dissension ran high, “and enemies had it to observe and remark that ministers preached and prayed against one another.”

The king named the Duke of Monmouth to command his army in Scotland. Both the instructions which were given him and the duke’s own temper were favorable to an accommodation. The royal forces were at Bothwell Muir on the twenty-second of June, and their advanced guards within a quarter of a mile of the bridge. The duke marched his army to an eminence opposite the main body of the enemy, who lay on the moor (st. 10). The bridge was held by Hackston of Rathillet and other resolute men. It was very defensible, being only twelve feet wide and rising from each end to the middle, where there was a gate, and it was also obstructed with stones. Early in the morning a deputation was sent by the rebels to the duke to lay before him their demands. He heard them patiently, and expressed his willingness to do all that he could for them with the king, but would engage himself to nothing until they laid down their arms. He gave them an hour to make up their mind. The officers of the insurgents were unable to come to an agreement. Hamilton, who assumed the general command, was against any pacific arrangement, and no answer was returned. In the interim four field-pieces had been planted against the bridge. The defenders maintained themselves under the fire of these and of the musketeers and dragoons until their own powder was exhausted, and then unwillingly withdrew to the main body, by Hamilton’s order. The bridge was cleared of obstructions, and the royal army crossed and advanced in order of battle against the rebels on the moor. The first fire made the Covenanters’ horse wheel about, and their retreat threw the nearest foot into disorder; in consequence of which the whole army fell into confusion. Twelve hundred surrendered without resistance, the rest fled, and several hundred were killed in the pursuit.[81]

1–9. William Gordon of Earlston, a hot Covenanter, while on his way to Hamilton on the twenty-second to join the insurgents, fell in with some dragoons who were pursuing his already routed copartisans, and, resisting their attempt to make him prisoner, waskilled. His son Alexander, a man of more temperate views, was at Bothwell Bridge,[82]and escaped. Although Earlston in st. 4 is represented as bidding farewell to his father, the grotesque narrative with which the ballad begins can be understood only of the father; sts. 7, 8 make this certain.

9. It seems to be meant, as grammar would require, that it is the ‘Lennox lad,’ and a Covenanter, that sets up ‘the flag of red set about with blue.’ In “Old Mortality,” Sir Walter Scott makes the Covenanters plant “the scarlet and blue colors of the Scottish covenant” on the keep of Tillietudlem. Whether he had other authority than this ballad for the scarlet, I have not been able to ascertain. All the flags of the covenant may not have been alike, but all would probably have a ground of blue, which is known to have been the Covenanters’ color. One flag, which belonged to a Covenanter who figured at Drumclog and Bothwell Bridge, has fortunately been preserved. It is of blue silk, with three inscriptions, one of which is, “No Quarters to yeActive Enimies of yeCovenant,” first painted in some light color, afterwards repainted in a dull red. (Napier, I, xliv).

The last half of the stanza must be spoken by Monmouth, and the tone of it is more chivalrous than the circumstances call for.

12–15. For Claverhouse’s cornet, see the preceding ballad. Captain John Graham, for that was all he then was, was not conspicuous at Bothwell Bridge. He commanded the horse on the right, and Captain Stuart the dragoons on the left, when the advance was made on the Covenanters. He was as capable of insubordination as Robert Hamilton was of Erastianism, and it is nearly as unnecessary, at this day, to vindicate him from the charge of cruelty as from that of procuring Monmouth’s execution six years in advance of the fates.[83]

‘Earlistoun,’ Chambers, Twelve Romantic Scottish Ballads, p. 26, is this piece with the battle omitted, or stanzas 1–6, 71,2, 83,4, 16.

Scott observes: “There is said to be another song upon this battle, once very popular, but I have not been able to recover it.”

There is a stall-ballad of Bothwell Brigg, not traditional, a very good ballad of its sort, with a touching story and a kindly moral, which may or may not be later than Sir Walter Scott’s day. It is of John Carr and his wife Janet and a non-covenanting lady, who carries off John, badly wounded, from the field (where he had fought better than most of his party), and nurses him in her lord’s castle till he is well enough to be visited by his wife.

Translated by Talvj, Charakteristik, p. 581.

1‘O billie, billie, bonny billie,Will ye go to the wood wi me?We’ll ca our horse hame masterless,An gar them trow slain men are we.’2‘O no, O no!’ says Earlstoun,‘For that’s the thing that mauna be;For I am sworn to Bothwell Hill,Where I maun either gae or die.’3So Earlstoun rose in the morning,An mounted by the break o day,An he has joind our Scottish lads,As they were marching out the way.4‘Now, farewell, father! and farewell, mother!An fare ye weel, my sisters three!An fare ye well, my Earlstoun!For thee again I—‘ll never see.’5So they’re awa to Bothwell Hill,An waly, they rode bonnily!When the Duke o Monmouth saw them comin,He went to view their company.6‘Ye’re welcome, lads,’ then Monmouth said,‘Ye’re welcome, brave Scots lads, to me;And sae are you, brave Earlstoun,The foremost o your company.7‘But yield your weapons ane an a’,O yield your weapons, lads, to me;For, gin ye’ll yield your weapons up,Ye’se a’ gae hame to your country.’8Out then spak a Lennox lad,And waly, but he spoke bonnily!‘I winna yield my weapons up,To you nor nae man that I see.’9Then he set up the flag o red,A’ set about wi bonny blue:‘Since ye’ll no cease, and be at peace,See that ye stand by ither true.’10They stelld their cannons on the height,And showrd their shot down in the how,An beat our Scots lads even down;Thick they lay slain on every know.11As eer you saw the rain down fa,Or yet the arrow frae the bow,Sae our Scottish lads fell even down,An they lay slain on every know.12‘O hold your hand,’ then Monmouth cry’d,‘Gie quarters to yon men for me;’But wicked Claverhouse swore an oathHis cornet’s death revengd sud be.13‘O hold your hand,’ then Monmouth cry’d,‘If ony thing you’ll do for me;Hold up your hand, you cursed Græme,Else a rebel to our king ye’ll be.’14Then wicked Claverhouse turnd about—I wot an angry man was he—And he has lifted up his hat,And cry’d, God bless his Majesty!15Than he’s awa to London town,Ay een as fast as he can dree;Fause witnesses he has wi him taen,An taen Monmouth’s head frae his body.16Alang the brae beyond the brig,Mony brave man lies cauld and still;But lang we’ll mind, and sair we’ll rue,The bloody battle of Bothwell Hill.

1‘O billie, billie, bonny billie,Will ye go to the wood wi me?We’ll ca our horse hame masterless,An gar them trow slain men are we.’

‘O billie, billie, bonny billie,

Will ye go to the wood wi me?

We’ll ca our horse hame masterless,

An gar them trow slain men are we.’

2‘O no, O no!’ says Earlstoun,‘For that’s the thing that mauna be;For I am sworn to Bothwell Hill,Where I maun either gae or die.’

‘O no, O no!’ says Earlstoun,

‘For that’s the thing that mauna be;

For I am sworn to Bothwell Hill,

Where I maun either gae or die.’

3So Earlstoun rose in the morning,An mounted by the break o day,An he has joind our Scottish lads,As they were marching out the way.

So Earlstoun rose in the morning,

An mounted by the break o day,

An he has joind our Scottish lads,

As they were marching out the way.

4‘Now, farewell, father! and farewell, mother!An fare ye weel, my sisters three!An fare ye well, my Earlstoun!For thee again I—‘ll never see.’

‘Now, farewell, father! and farewell, mother!

An fare ye weel, my sisters three!

An fare ye well, my Earlstoun!

For thee again I—‘ll never see.’

5So they’re awa to Bothwell Hill,An waly, they rode bonnily!When the Duke o Monmouth saw them comin,He went to view their company.

So they’re awa to Bothwell Hill,

An waly, they rode bonnily!

When the Duke o Monmouth saw them comin,

He went to view their company.

6‘Ye’re welcome, lads,’ then Monmouth said,‘Ye’re welcome, brave Scots lads, to me;And sae are you, brave Earlstoun,The foremost o your company.

‘Ye’re welcome, lads,’ then Monmouth said,

‘Ye’re welcome, brave Scots lads, to me;

And sae are you, brave Earlstoun,

The foremost o your company.

7‘But yield your weapons ane an a’,O yield your weapons, lads, to me;For, gin ye’ll yield your weapons up,Ye’se a’ gae hame to your country.’

‘But yield your weapons ane an a’,

O yield your weapons, lads, to me;

For, gin ye’ll yield your weapons up,

Ye’se a’ gae hame to your country.’

8Out then spak a Lennox lad,And waly, but he spoke bonnily!‘I winna yield my weapons up,To you nor nae man that I see.’

Out then spak a Lennox lad,

And waly, but he spoke bonnily!

‘I winna yield my weapons up,

To you nor nae man that I see.’

9Then he set up the flag o red,A’ set about wi bonny blue:‘Since ye’ll no cease, and be at peace,See that ye stand by ither true.’

Then he set up the flag o red,

A’ set about wi bonny blue:

‘Since ye’ll no cease, and be at peace,

See that ye stand by ither true.’

10They stelld their cannons on the height,And showrd their shot down in the how,An beat our Scots lads even down;Thick they lay slain on every know.

They stelld their cannons on the height,

And showrd their shot down in the how,

An beat our Scots lads even down;

Thick they lay slain on every know.

11As eer you saw the rain down fa,Or yet the arrow frae the bow,Sae our Scottish lads fell even down,An they lay slain on every know.

As eer you saw the rain down fa,

Or yet the arrow frae the bow,

Sae our Scottish lads fell even down,

An they lay slain on every know.

12‘O hold your hand,’ then Monmouth cry’d,‘Gie quarters to yon men for me;’But wicked Claverhouse swore an oathHis cornet’s death revengd sud be.

‘O hold your hand,’ then Monmouth cry’d,

‘Gie quarters to yon men for me;’

But wicked Claverhouse swore an oath

His cornet’s death revengd sud be.

13‘O hold your hand,’ then Monmouth cry’d,‘If ony thing you’ll do for me;Hold up your hand, you cursed Græme,Else a rebel to our king ye’ll be.’

‘O hold your hand,’ then Monmouth cry’d,

‘If ony thing you’ll do for me;

Hold up your hand, you cursed Græme,

Else a rebel to our king ye’ll be.’

14Then wicked Claverhouse turnd about—I wot an angry man was he—And he has lifted up his hat,And cry’d, God bless his Majesty!

Then wicked Claverhouse turnd about—

I wot an angry man was he—

And he has lifted up his hat,

And cry’d, God bless his Majesty!

15Than he’s awa to London town,Ay een as fast as he can dree;Fause witnesses he has wi him taen,An taen Monmouth’s head frae his body.

Than he’s awa to London town,

Ay een as fast as he can dree;

Fause witnesses he has wi him taen,

An taen Monmouth’s head frae his body.

16Alang the brae beyond the brig,Mony brave man lies cauld and still;But lang we’ll mind, and sair we’ll rue,The bloody battle of Bothwell Hill.

Alang the brae beyond the brig,

Mony brave man lies cauld and still;

But lang we’ll mind, and sair we’ll rue,

The bloody battle of Bothwell Hill.

Back to Index Next