He had just seized the white staff of the flag. But his tremendous oath of exultation had scarcely passed its polluted threshold, when this Andro Ferrara fell on the guard of his steel, and shivered it to pieces. 'Recreant loon,' said I, 'thou shalt this day remember thy evil deeds.' Another blow on his helmit laid him at his huge length, and made him bite the dust. In the mélé that followed, I lost sight of him. We fought like lions, but with the hearts of Christians. While my gallant companions stemmed the tide of battle, the standard, rent to tatters, fell across my breast. I tore it from the staff, and wrapt it round my body. We cut our way through the enemy, and carried our General off the field.

[#] The natives of Hamilton have preserved, by tradition, the name of the merchant who did this disservice to the Covenanters.

"Having gained a small knoll, we beheld once more the dreadful spectacle below. Thick volumes of smoke and dust rolled in a lazy cloud over the dark bands mingled in deadly affray. It was no longer a battle, but a massacre. In the struggle of my feelings, 'I turned my eyes on the General and Paton. I saw in the face of the latter an indescribable conflict of emotions. His long and shaggy eyebrows were drawn over his eyes. His hand grasped his sword. I cannot yet leave the field,' said the undaunted Paton; 'with the General's permission, I shall try to save some of our wretched men beset by those hell-hounds. Who will go? At Kilsyth I saw service. When deserted by my troops, I cut my way through Montrose's men and reached the spot where Colonels Halket and Strachan were. We left the field together. Fifteen Dragoons attacked us, we cut down thirteen and two fled. Thirteen next assailed us. We left ten on the field, and three fled. Eleven Highlanders next met us. We paused and cheered each other. 'Now, Johnny,' cried Halket to me, 'put forth your metal, else we are gone.' Nine others we sent after their comrades, and two fled.[#] 'Now, who will join this raid?' 'I will be your leader,' said Sir Robert, as we fell into the ranks. We marched on the enemy's flank. 'Yonder is Clavers,' said Paton, while he directed his courser on him. The bloody man was at that moment, nearly alone, hacking to pieces some poor fellows already on their knees disarmed and imploring him by the common feelings of humanity to spare their lives. He had just finished his usual oath against their feelings of humanity, when Paton presented himself. He instantly let go his prey and slunk back into the midst of his troopers. Having formed them, he advanced. We formed and made a furious onset. At our first charge his troop reeled. Clavers was dismounted. But at that moment Dalziel assailed us on the flank and rear. Our men fell around us like grass before the mower. The buglemen sounded a retreat. Once more in the mélé, I fell in with the General and Paton. We were covered with wounds. We directed our flight in the rear of the broken troops, By the direction of the General I had unfurled the standard. It was borne off the field flying at the sword's point. But that honour cost me much. I was assailed by three fierce dragoons, five followed close in the rear. I called to Paton—in a moment he was by my side. I threw the standard to the General, and we rushed on the foe. They fell beneath our swords; but my faithful steed, which had carried me through all my dangers, was mortally wounded. He fell. I was thrown in among the fallen enemy. I fainted. I opened my eyes on misery. I found myself in the presence of Monmouth—a prisoner—with other wretched creatures, awaiting in awful suspense their ultimate destiny." * * *

[#] This chivalrous defence is recorded in the life of Captain Paton.

And this standard had been borne at Bothwell Bridge; borne at early morn by the Covenanters, when hopes of victory animated their souls, urging them on to deeds of daring; and at evening, when the bright rays of the setting sun fell upon the deserted bridge—deserted by all save the dead and the dying—this banner blood-stained and riven, had been borne by some weary, perchance, wounded Covenanter, from the disastrous field, where perished the hopes of the Covenanting party.

I was roused from my momentary fit of abstraction by hearing Mrs. Anderson observe, as if in answer to her own thoughts, "Ay, it's rale dirty! but I was on the point of washing it the other day, when my husband said it was much better to let it remain as it was." Wash the standard stained with the blood of her forefathers! Convert the time-honoured relic into a clean piece of linen which would no longer bear the slightest resemblance to a banner that had been engaged in such honourable service! Surely she was joking. But no. There was no twinkle of merriment in those large grey eyes, which were fixed on mine, as if anticipating a glance of approbation for her thwarted intentions; not the slightest approach to a smile at the corners of the mouth, that had given utterance to the astounding declaration. I repressed a strong desire to laugh, and answered with becoming gravity, that I thought on the whole Mr. Anderson was right; and that it would be better to spare it the cleansing process, upon which she said, "May be ay;" and the venerable banner was replaced in the drawer.

Observing an old sword suspended from a nail on the wall, I inquired of Mrs. Anderson if there was any particular history attached to it? "'Deed there is," she replied, taking it down from the wall and placing it in my hands; that sword was employed in the killing o' two or three Royalists down by M—— yonder in the time o' the persecution. You see, the dragoons were drinking in a public-house that used to stand by the side o' the road near till M——. They were going on the next day to L—— to levy fines frae the Covenanters, a thing they had no business to do. And as they drank, their hearts were opened, and they boasted to the landlord that the wine-stoupa wadna contain the gold they should bring wi' them on their return.

"Now ye must know, that some one who was na' very friendly to their side of the question, happened to be in the house at that time, and heard their foolish talk; and what does he do, think ye, but rins awa' to some o' the nearest farms and collects several others like himself; for ye see people in these days were na' deterred by fear o' the laws frae just doing as they liket; and they all marched to the public-house, with the wicked intention o' killing the soldiers. Some say an old miller, o' the name o' Baird, who lived near here, and who had been a sore enemy to the Royalists, and had obtained a free pardon frae the Government, when aince he fell into their hands, headed the party. Wi' blackened faces, and guns, and swords, in their hands, they rushed into the room where sat the men. One of them, on perceiving their entrance, caught up a chair to defend hinself, but one o' the Covenanters thrust his sword wi' such force through his body, that it stuck in the wall behind him; while the others were finished wi' the butt-ends of their guns. Eh, sirs, but these were wild times. And this part o' the country was in a very disturbed state about that time; for just before the battle o' Bothwell Bridge, the royal army lay encamped all over the Muirhead up on the hill yonder; for it being a high situation, they had a good view o' all the country round; and whenever they ran out o' provisions, the soldiers just gaed to a' the farm-houses round about, and took away cattle, meal, butter, and everything they could lay their hands on without