in deadly conflict. It was in this situation of matters that my brave fellows had returned from the route of the flanking party to look after their commander. One of them was actually rushing on my antagonist when I called to him to retire. We started to our feet; each grasped his sword; we closed in conflict again. After parrying strokes of mine enemy, which indicated a hellish ferocity, I told him my object was to take him prisoner; that sooner than kill him I should order my men to seize him. 'Sooner let my soul be branded on my ribs in hell,' said he, 'than be captured by a Whigamore. No quarter is the word of my colonel and my sword. Have at thee, whig-I dare the whole of you to the combat.'- Leave the madman to me, leave the field instantly,' said I to my party, whom I could hardly restrain. My sword fell on his right shoulder. His sword dropped from his hand. I lowered my sword and offered him his life. 'No quarter,' said he, with a shriek of despair. He snatched his sword, which I held in my hand, and made a lunge at my breast. I parried his blows until he was nearly exhausted, but gathering up his huge limbs he put forth all his energies in a thrust at my throat. My Andrea Ferrara received it, so as to weaken its deadly force, but it made a deep cut. Though I was faint with loss of blood, I left him no time for another blow. My sword glanced on his shoulder, cut through his buff coat, skin, and flesh, swept through his jaw, and laid open his throat from ear to ear. The fire of ferociousness was quenched in a moment. He reeled, and falling with a terrible crash poured out his soul in a torrent of blood on the heath. I sunk down insensible for a moment. My faithful men, who had never lost sight of me, raised me up. In the fierce combat the soldier suffers most from thirst. I stooped down to fill my helmet with the water which oozed through the morass. It was deeply tinged with human blood, which flowed in the conflict above me. I started back with horror, and Gawn Witherspoon bringing up my steed, we set forward in the tumult of the battle." While the hand-to-hand fight in which the Laird was engaged was going on, the battle raged fiercely on each side of him, and ultimately Claverhouse and his men were driven into the moss. The firing had by this time ceased, and the fighting was hand to hand and man to man, any of the Covenanters who were on

horseback dismounted to engage in the fray, for they well knew that their steeds would sink in the bog if they attempted to follow the enemy. Coming in close proximity with Claverhouse, the Laird describes his appearance in anything but flattering terms. "Three times," he says, "Claverhouse rolled headlong on the heath as he hastened from rank to rank, and as often he remounted. In one of his rapid courses past us my sword could only shear off his white plume and a fragment of his buff coat. But in a moment he was at the other side of his square. Our officers eagerly sought a meeting with him. He has the proof of lead,' cried some of our men; 'take the cold steel or a piece of silver.'-'No,' cried Burley, it is his rapid movement on that fine charger that bids defiance to anything like an aim in the tumult of the bloody fray. I could sooner shoot ten heather-cocks on the wing than one flying Clavers.' At that moment Burley, whose eye watched his antagonist, pushed into the hollow square. But Burley was too impatient. His blow was levelled at him before he came within its reach. His heavy sword descended on the head of Clavers' horse and felled it to the ground. Burley's men rushed pell-mell on the fallen Clavers, but his faithful dragoons threw themselves upon them, and by their overpowering force drove Burley back. Clavers was in an instant on a fresh steed. His bugleman recalled the party who were driving back the flanking party of Burley. He collected his whole troops to make his last and desperate attack." Under the charge which followed the Covenanters were giving way, but Hamilton placed himself in the front of the battle with the white flag of the Covenant in his hand and cheered them on. Here the Laird crossed swords with Claverhouse. He relates the incident as follows:-"He struck a desperate blow at me as he raised himself in the saddle with all his force. My steel cap resisted it. The second stroke I received on my Ferrara, and his steel was shivered to pieces. We rushed headlong on each other. His pistol missed fire; it had been soaked in blood. Mine took effect, but the wound was not deadly. Our horses reared. We rolled on the ground. In vain we sought to grasp each other. In the melee men and horse tumbled on us. We were for a few moments buried under our men, whose eagerness to save their respective officers

brought them in multitudes down upon us. By the aid of my faithful man, Gawn, I had extricated myself from my fallen horse, and we were rushing on the bloody Clavers, when we were again literally buried under a mass of men, for Hamilton had by this time brought up his whole line, and had planted his standard where I and Clavers were rolling on the heath. Our men gave three cheers and drove in the troops of Clavers. Here I was borne along with the moving mass of men and almost suffocated, being faint with the loss of blood. I knew nothing more till I opened my eyes on my faithful attendant. He had dragged me from the very grasp of the enemy and borne me into the rear, and was bathing my temples with water." At this juncture of the battle the Royal troops got into confusion, and being hard pressed by the Covenanters were driven back; but every inch of ground was sternly disputed, and nought was heard save the clashing of weapons, the neighing of horses, the shrieks of the wounded, and the groans of the dying. But allow the Laird to describe the closing scene of the battle: "At this instant his (Claverhouse's) trumpet sounded the loud notes of retreat, and we saw on a knoll Clavers borne away by his men. He threw himself on a horse, and without sword, without helmet, fled in the first ranks of the now retreating host. His troops galloped up the hill in the utmost confusion. My little line closed with that of Burley, and took a number of prisoners. Our main body pursued the enemy two miles, and strewed the ground with men and horses. I could see the bare-headed Clavers in front of his men kicking and struggling up the steep sides of the Calder Hill. He halted only a moment on the top to look behind him, then plunged his rowels into his horse and darted forward; nor did he recover from this panic till he arrived in the city of Glasgow. . . . I visited the field of battle next day, but I shall never forget the sight. Men and horses lay in their gory beds. I turned away from the horrible sight. I passed by the spot where God saved my life in single combat, and where the unhappy Arrol fell. I observed that in the subsequent fray the body had been trampled on by a horse, and his bowels were poured out.' I need not relate how the Covenanters after this successful engagement were flushed with victory, or how they marched to Bothwell, and sustained a disastrous defeat. Suffice it to say

that they played a noble part on the stage of Scottish history. They did much to burst the bands of tyrannic oppression, and set a groaning nation at liberty. They may have been somewhat fanatical, but they did good service, and we are now reaping the rich harvest of political and religious liberty that they in the past sowed.

"Praise to the good, the pure, the great,

Who made us what we are

Who lit the flame that yet shall glow

With radiance brighter far.

Glory to them in coming time,
And through eternity;

They burst the captive's galling chain,
And bade the world go free."

"Yes! though the sceptic's tongue deride
Those martyrs who for conscience died;
Though modish history blight their fame,
And sneering courtiers hoot the name
Of men who dared alone be free
Amidst a nation's slavery;

Yet long for them the poet's lyre

Shall wake its notes of heavenly fire:

Their names shall nerve the patriot's hand,

Upraised to save a sinking land,

And piety shall learn to burn

With holier transports o'er their urn."

CHAPTER XVIII.

From Newmilns to Galston-The Institute-Barr Castle The Boss TreeCessnock Castle-The appearance of the buildings-The Campbells of Cessnock-Sir Hew, and the charges brought against him—The alienation of the Castle and Lands-The Main Street of GalstonThe Parish Church and Graveyard-Stones commemorative of local Covenanters-John Wright, the Galston Poet-Titchfield Street-A Mining Settlement-From Galston to Hurlford-The Village: its buildings and inhabitants-Crookedholm-Back to Kilmarnock— Conclusion.

THE road from Newmilns to Galston, which is nearly two miles in length, is remarkable for sylvan beauty and picturesque scenery, being draped with hanging boughs, and fringed on the one hand with the thickly-wooded policies of Loudoun Castle, and on the other by stripes of plantation through which the waters of the Irvine gurgling sing a continual farewell to "Loudoun's bonnie woods an' braes" as they roll on to mingle with the mighty deep. I enjoyed the walk' immensely, and stopped now and again to feast my vision on the prospect or to catch glimpses of the castle, for its stately form is now and then seen through openings between the branches of the magnificent old trees. Towards the end of the road I observed the town of Galston lying in a hollow on the left bank of the Irvine, and as my way home passed through it I pushed onward at a brisk pace, so that I might rest and partake of refreshment in the house of ex-Bailie Murdoch, who retails not only the staff of life but also the "broo o' the barley." Arriving at a stately bridge which spans the river I crossed and entered the town of Galston, which contains 4727 of a population, and has a general trade of muslin-weaving and woollen manufacture. Of late years it has undergone a transition which has not been for the better-an influx of miners who are employed in pits in the vicinity having taken place, it has become both populous and rough, for a shifting, unsettled class of any kind rarely adds to the moral status of a community. Passing the Mechanics'