him will the truth break;" and on a chronic | those we have mentioned; there are a few, liar's incapability of truth: "He lies even when he prays.' Finally, on death we have these two: "For rain and for death one need not pray"-since both come of themselves; and, "For every evil is death a balsam,”—which reminds one of the Irish, "death is the poor man's doc tor." It would be easy to continue our quotations and suggestions; there are numerous proverbs in the collection quite as good as the production doubtless of some local "Tupper"—either muddily obscure or completely commonplace. But it would be wrong to deprive any reader of the pleasure of investigating the original for himself, an employment which we strongly advise, and which therefore, although these adages be the outcome of uneducated rayahs, we are sure will be undertaken, for "It is easy to counsel a wise man ;" and, " Pope and peasant know more than pope alone." From the Dublin University Magazine. SCOTTISH CAVALIERS AND JACOBITE CHIEFTAINS.* THE Stuarts were scarcely seated on the throne of Great Britain when they alienated the affections of their northern subjects, by the ecclesiastical innovations they sought to introduce. James was weakly fond of prerogative. Charles I. inherited the pernicious views of his father. He was swayed by unwise advisers; and having himself a warm attachment to the ritual of the Reformed Church of England, sought, with a mistaken zeal, to impose on his Presbyterian subjects the liturgy and episcopalian form of Church government which prevailed in England. But the temper of the Scotch Protestants was strongly opposed to these changes. The Reformation in that country had taken place under very different auspices from those which heralded its advent in England. The Church of Scotland had assumed from the first the Presbyterian form; and the nation rejected with indignation the discipline and ritual which Charles attempted to force on their acceptance. Many of the high nobility of Scotland protested-in the form of a Solemn League and Covenant against the threatened innovations. Among the subscribers to the Covenant appears the name of Montrose, in conjunction with that of Argyll, chieftains, soon afterwards to become bitter antagonists. He James Grahame, fifth Earl, and first Marquis of Montrose, was born in 1612. possessed the personal advantages of a graceful and well-proportioned form, though not exceeding the middle height. His complexion was fair; his manner and address elegant and insinuating; his mind was cultivated; his taste refined. He was himself a poet of no mean order. Even amid the incessant toils of his short life, he found leisure to familiarize himself with the classic literature of ancient Rome. In every respect he formed a striking contrast to his foe, Argyll. Archibald, Earl and Marquis of Argyll, was singularly unprepossessing in appearance. Red hair, a mean form, and a sinister obliquity of vision, only too characteristic of his crooked nature, distniguished this great chief of the clan Campbell. The adhesion of Montrose to the Solemn League and Covenant was not of long duration. He hated and distrusted Argyll, and apprehended danger to monarchy itself from the extreme views of his colleagues. He wrote loyally to the King, urging him to abandon his ecclesiastical schemes-to come in person to Scotland, and assure his subjects that he was not hostile to their liberties. This advice did not consort well with the views of the Covenanting Lords. Montrose was deemed a traitor to their cause, while every day added to their hostile position as regarded their sovereign. Charles was by 24 this time thoroughly embroiled with his Par- "Prejudged by foes determined not to spare, bear To stir in useless struggle), hath relied On the 7th of May, 1642, the King wrote from York: MONTROSE,―I know I need no arguments to induce you to my service. Duty and loyalty are sufficient to a man of so much honor as I know you to be yet as I think this of you, so I will have you to believe of me, that I would not invite you to share of my hard fortune if I intended you not to be a plentiful partaker of my good," &c., &c. Two years later Montrose unfurled the royal standard among the wilds of Athol having received his commission from Charles as Lieutenant-General of his Majesty's forces in Scotland. And now commenced that brief but extraordinary career, which has excited the wonder and admiration of posterity. On the 1st of September in that year, Montrose, with a handful of Highlanders, imperfectly armed, and so badly provided with ammunition that orders were issued that no man should discharge his piece until sure of his mark, and that no random shots should be permitted, gained the victory of Tippermuir. This success placed the city of Perth at his mercy, and enabled him to arm his troops at the expense of the citizens. Again at Fyvie, with a very inferior force, and only fifty horsemen, Montrose defeated the army of the Covenant, and annihilated their cavalry, consisting of a thousand horse. On this occasion all their utensils were melted down to supply bullets. "Well done, pewter pot," was a frequent exclamation among the marksmen, as each volley did deadly execution on their adversaries. A still more remarkable achievement was the raid of Montrose into the very heart of his enemy's country. Amidst snow and storm, he trav ersed the almost impassable mountain barriers which protected Argyll's country from hostile aggression, and until then had been deemed impregnable. In the depth of winter, by forced marches, the ever active general ravaged the western highlands, burned Inverary Castle, the stronghold of his great foe, and “spoiled" the sons of Diarmid. On the 2d of February, 1645, he gained a signal victory over Argyll at Inverlochy, and soon after won the no less important battle of Kilsyth. Perhaps not the least interesting incident in this brilliant campaign was the special protection accorded by the great marquis to the poet Drummond, of Hawthornden, a worthy homage to literature from one who was himself a poet. The star of James Grahame, Marquis of Montrose, had now attained its culminating peint: it was thenceforward to decline, until it set in blood. While Montrose was regaining the Highlands for his sovereign, the bad success of the royalist cause in England induced Charles rashly to throw himself into the arms of the Scotch Covenanters, expecting from his northern subjects more lenient treatment than from his Roundhead adversaries. He was deceived. The Presbyterians actually bargained and sold him to the Parlia ment, and by this unworthy act indelibly disgraced their cause. Montrose, who had meantime suffered a disastrous defeat at Philiphaugh, was entreated by the King to lay down his arms. ing to come to terms with his Parliament, and this was an essential condition. Montrose sorrowfully obeyed. He retired to the Continent, there to learn, at a later period, the tragical fate of his royal master. Charles was endeavor "I'll sing thine obsequies with trumpet sounds, And write thine epitaph in blood and wounds." Montrose was, however, long compelled to remain inactive, though, as he afterwards said to the young King, when they met in exile, "I never had passion on earth so strong as that to do the King, your father, service." At length, when that prince's cause was proclaimed in Scotland, the ever devoted Grahame sailed for the Orkneys, hoping once again to raise the Highlands in behalf of Charles Stuart. He had scarcely reached the mainland, when he was forced, by the extremity of hunger, to surrender himself to a former adherent, Macleod of Assynt, who, with unparalleled baseness, betrayed him to the Covenanters. In proof of the perfect serenity of mind which Montrose exhibited while under sentence of death, we may mention the lines inscribed on the window of his prison the night before his execution: "Let them bestow on every airth a limb, are, I'm hopeful thou'lt recover once my dust, The confident expectation, so far as regarded the mortal remains of Montrose, was eventually realized. His bones were collected and interred after his death. His heart underwent many varieties of fortune, so strange, so singular, that we pause to recount them as detailed by a descendant, the Right Hon. Sir Alexander Johnston, formerly Chief Justice of Ceylon, in a letter to his daughters: "The first Marquis of Montrose being extremely partial to his nephew, the second Lord Napier, and his wife, had always promised at his death to leave his heart to the latter, as a mark of the affection which he felt towards her, for the unremitting kindness which she had shown to him in all the different vicissitudes of his life and fortune; that, on the marquis's execution, a confidential friend of her own, employed by Lady Napier, succeeded in obtaining for her the heart of the marquis; that she, after it had been embalmed by her desire, enclosed it in a little steel case, made of the blade of Montrose's sword, placed this case in a gold filagree box, which had been given to John Napier, the inventor of logarithms, by a Doge of Venice, while he was on his travels in Italy... She transmitted the gold box, with Montrose's heart in it, to the young Marquis of Montrose, who was then abroad with her husband, Lord Napier, in exile; that for some reason or other, the gold-box and heart had been lost sight of by both families, that of Montrose and that of Napier, for some time, until an intimate friend of his, the fifth Lord Napier, a gentleman of Guelderland, recognized in the collection of a collector of curiosities in Holland, the identical gold filagree box with the steel case, and procured it for him when he was in that country." This case was given by the fifth Lord Napier to his daughter, the mother of Sir Alexander Johnston. On her way to India the vessel was attacked by a French frigate. The gold filagree box was shattered by a blow, but the steel case remained uninjured. While in India, the lady found a goldsmith, who, partly from description and from the preserved fragments, made a filagree case like the one which had been destroyed, in which was placed the heart of the hero: My mother's anxiety about it gave rise to a report among the natives of the country that it was a talisman, and that whoever possessed it could never be wounded in battle or taken prisoner. Owing to this report it was stolen from her, and for some time it was not known what had become of it. At last she learned that it had been offered for sale to a powerful chief, who had purchased it for a large sum of money." The writer of the narrative, becoming acquainted with this chief, begged for its restoration, detailing the circumstances which made it valuable in his eyes. The chief "Immediately added that one brave man should always attend to the wishes of another brave man, whatever his religion or his nation might fulfil the wishes of the brave man whose heart be; that he, therefore, considered it his duty to was in the urn, and whose wish it was that his heart should be kept by his descendants, and for that reason he would willingly restore it to my mother. My father and mother returned to Europe in 1792, and being in France when the revolutionary government required all persons to give up their plate, &c., entrusted the silver urn, with Montrose's heart, to an Englishwoman of the name of Knowles, at Boulogne, who promised to secrete it until it could be sent safely to England. This person having died shortly afterwards, neither my mother or father, in their lifetime, nor I myself, since their death, have ever been able to trace the urn, although every exertion has been made by me for that purpose." The events which succeeded the wreck of the royalist cause in Scotland are familiar to all readers of general history. The military despotism established by Cromwell was ter clans. minated by the restoration of monarchy, and King James's standard among the royal the recall of Charles II. to fill the throne of his father. Religious discord still remained. General Mackay, on the part of the Conrife in Scotland, and reached its acme of bit-vention, advanced northward to encounter terness during the brief reign of the brother the redoubtable Dundee. The armies met and successor to Charles II., King James II. at Killiecrankie, a wild mountain pass near The successful revolution of 1688, placed Blair-Atholl. There, at the moment of vicWilliam of Orange on the throne, made va- tory, Dundee fell, mortally wounded in a cant by the forced abdication of his royal gallant charge which scattered the foe. But father-in-law, who passed the remnant of his the success was deemed to be dearly purdays in dreary exile. It was at this juncture chased when the life of the great leader, Ian that the desperate fortunes of the House of dhu nan Cath, was the forfeit. Stuart were well-nigh retrieved by another Scottish cavalier, nearly allied in reputation as in name to the Great Grahame, Marquis of Montrose. John Grahame of Claverhouse, afterwards Viscount Dundee, was a younger son of the House of Fintrie. He had the advantage of a learned education at the University of St. Andrew's; but probably did not profit much by his studies, as he wrote and spoke his own language very ungrammatically. His genius lay in war, not in the peaceful pursuits of literature. His career commenced on the Continent, and he served for a time under the Prince of Orange, to whom he afterwards proved so formidable an opponent. He saved William's life at the battle of St. Neff, but a petty misunderstanding completely estranged them soon after. Claverhouse has been depicted in very varied colors, as the portrait happens to be drawn by friend or by foe. "Bloody Claverse," "Hero-fiend," are among the mildest epithets lavished on him by the one party, while his admirers describe him in terms of unqualified eulogy. In illustration we would refer our readers to Professor Aytoun's Appendix, "Viscount Dundee," in the "Lays,' where he criticizes Mr. Macaulay's statements about Claverhouse, from which he strongly dissents. Perhaps the most faithful portraiture extant may be that of the novelist. Sir Walter Scott has finely described Grahame of Claverhouse, in "Old Mortality." Even his horse, a supposed gift from the enemy of mankind, is not unnoticed. Friends and foes, at least, concur in acknowledging Colonel Grahame of Claverhouse to have been brave to excess, a skilful commander, and a devoted servant to King James II. Even after the monarch's abdication Dundee did not despair of his cause, but hastened to Edinburgh to exhort the Duke of Gordon to maintain the Castle against the Convention, as the revolution party were then termed, while he hastened to the Highlands to raise In his description of the battle-ground and military dispositions at Killiecrankie, Mr. Hill Burton has warmed into unusual animation. We quote at length this, probably the most picturesque passage to be met with in his two volumes: "The most picturesque of Scottish battle-fields is stamped by the hand of nature with marks which seem destined to remain while the crust of the earth holds together; and, long as the memory of the battle may be preserved, it is likely to be lost in oblivion behind the multitudinous thickening of greater events, ere those peculiar features, which are adjusted to every stage of the tragedy with so expressive an exactness, are obliterated. The spot at once indicates the general character of the conflict, and its minuter features fit with singular accuracy into the mournful nar rative of the defeated general. Though not the field of battle, the nature of the pass itself had an important influence on the whole calamity; for it deprived Mackay, after having entered it, of all chance of a selection of ground. The Highland leys between chains of mountains, sometimes rivers, generally sweeping along winding val seem to break, as it were, through such a barrier where it is cleft in two, like the traverses of the Jura; and such a cleft, as a formidably defensible gate to the country beyond it, is generally called a pass. tain range, but In Killiecrankie, the cleft is not straight down from the general upper level of the mounor hollow between widely separated summits, so appears as if cut into a declivity that at the top of the rocks which form the walls of the narrow ravine, there is a sort of terrace stretching backward on either side, with a slightly inclined plane, the upper extremity of which starts abruptly upwards to the summits of the mountain range on either side of the declivity. ble influence on the fate of the day. A broad And this peculiarity in the ground had consideraterraced turnpike road, with many plantations, somewhat alter the character of the spot from its condition in Mackay's day, when the clefts and patches fit for vegetable growth were sprout ed with the stumpy oak scrub indigenous to Scot bor, the weeping birchi, hanging with all its luxe land, relieved by the softer features of its neighuriant tendrils from the rocks. The path of the army must have lain, not by the present road, but along by the base of the rocks, where roars the furious river, tumbling through all its course over great stones into successive holes, where, in uneasy rest, the waters have that inky blackness peculiar to the pools of the moss-stained rivers of the Highlands. "On reaching the top of the pass, an alluvial plain was found, of small extent, but level as a Dutch polder, where the troops formed as they came in a string through the pass, and rested while the general set himself to the vain task of seeking a good position. He sent onwards an advance to announce traces of the enemy, who were but a little way on when they gave the announcement; and Mackay riding to the spot, saw them appear on the sky-line of a bend in the hill above him to the north, from six to eight hundred feet higher than his position, and not a mile distant from it. Rising close over the small plain, where his troops were forming, was an abrupt knoll, on which stand now a few old oaks,-the remnant, probably, of the scrubby coppice, which made the general notice it as full of trees and shrubs.' Observing that the high ground on which the enemy appeared carried them directly, by an almost unvaried descent, to the top of this immediate elevation, Mackay saw that the enemy, reaching it while his troops remained on the flat close under it, would undoubtedly force them 'with confusion over the river.' And no one who looks at the narrow strip of meadow, with the abrupt ascent rising over it, can have the least doubt that his apprehensions were well founded. "Let us now look to the other camp. When it was known at Blair Castle that Mackay was entering the pass, the Highland chiefs were clamorous for a battle. They said it was not the nature of their followers to keep together unless they came quickly to some decided result; and Dundee, from his previous experience of their rapid dispersal when he could not give them fighting or plunder, agreed to the proposal. They swept around, keeping the upper ground to the elevated bend on that ridge looking down on Killiecrankie, where we have seen that their approach was first noticed from below. "The usually overpowering effect of a superior force of disciplined and equipped troops, would be lost in the vast arena on which the mountaineers looked down, confident in the strength of their position, their command of an impetuous descent on an enemy with a pit behind, and their ability to regain the rocks should their charge prove ineffective. It is easy to believe Lochiel's assertion, that their own shout sounded loud and full, and that of the enemy below them faint and feeble. but to throw the whole into confusion. To make the blows effectual, it was necessary that this line should not be too thin; to make them tell fully along Mackay's line, he must not make his own too short, or the intervals between the battalions too wide. If he erred, it was, as we shall see, in the latter cautious direction. "The ground had an admirable slope for the necessary impulse. When the charge was given, the Highlanders came on at a slow trot, received the fire of their opponents, and, while they were screwing on their bayonets, discharged their own, threw down their guns, and rushed on with their slashing broadswords, as sailors board with their cutlasses. Nothing but strong columns, or squares with the fixed bayonet, could stand the rush. The result was instantaneous; and those who were not cut down were swept into the gulf of the pass. An accident created some hesitation in the charge of Dundee's troop of cavalry. It had been commanded by Lord Dunfermline; but a commission from James to a gentleman with the illustrious name of Sir William Wallace, to supersede him, had just arrived. The men, not quite sure whom to obey, or unaccustomed to the method of the new commander, did not charge right forward at once. Dundee had ridden on, supposing that he was in their front, and, looking back, was surprised not to see them at hand. Lord Dunfermline told Lochiel, that above the smoke he saw the general wave his hat over his head, as he rose in the stirrup to signal them onwards. It is then that he is supposed to have received his death-wound; for it was by a bullet that entered his side, some inches within the breast-plate. As he dropped from his horse, a soldier named Johnson caught him. The dying man, with the instinct of the enthusiastic commander, asked anxiously how the day went. The supporter said it went well for the king, but he was sorrow for him. Dundee answered, it mattered not for himself, if the day went well for the king. He appears to have died almost immediately; and when some of his friends, finding him before life was extinct, endeavored to remove him, they were obliged to abandon the attempt by the fire from Leven's battalion remaining on the field. Those who were present said his body was wrapped in two plaids and conveyed to Blair Castle. Within a short time afterwards he was buried beneath the secluded church of Blair; and never vaulted roof or marble monument covered the last abode of a more restless and ambitious heart than that which has slept in this quiet spot amidst peasant dust." Dundee's death at Killiecrankie can scarcely be subject of lamentation, even to his friends. It was a glorious termination to a career "The armies faced each other after they were which, if further prolonged, must have provformed, for more than two hours. The midsumed an unenviable one. James II. was a dismer sun shone full on the Highlanders, and Dun-couraging master to fight for, notwithstanding dee would not charge until it had touched the the devotion with which his general risked western heights. The object of his adjustment all in his cause. How noble was the rejoinwas to cut through Mackay's thin line with his impetuous bodies of Highlanders, to cut it effectu- der of Dundee to the friends who urged him ally through in several places, and yet with so not to engage personally in the battle. "Genbroad a blow at each as not merely to pass through, tlemen," said he, "as I am absolutely con |