THE BATTLE OF PRESTONPANS, NEAR EDINBURGH.

Otago Witness, Issue 498, 15 June 1861, Page 9

THE BATTLE OF PRESTONPANS, NEAR EDINBURGH.

(JFrinn Autobiography of the Rev. Dr.* Alexander Cartyle, Minister of Inveresk.') Sir John Cope and his army marched in .(Haddington) the morning, I think, not till nine o'clock, and to my great surprise, instead of keeping the post road through Tranent Muir, which was high ground, and commanded the country south for several

miles,- as it did that to the north for two or three miles towards the sea, they turned to the right b,y Elvingston and the village of Trabroun, till they passed Longniddry on the north, and St. Germains on the south, when, on entering the defile made by the enclosures there, they halted for near an hour, and then marched into the open field of two miles in length, and one and a half in breadth, extending from Seaton to Preston, and from Tranent Meadow to the sea. I understood .afterwards that the general's intention was (if he had any will of his own) to occupy the field lying between Walliford, Smeaton, and Inveresk, where he would have had the river Esk running through deep banks in front, and the towns of Dalkeith and Musselburgh at hand to supply him with provisions. In this camp he could not have been surprised ; and in marching to this ground the road through Tranent was not more distant by 100 yards than that by Seaton. But they ■were too. late in t marching ; for when they came to St. Germains, their scouts, who were chiefly Lords Home and Loudon, brought them intelligence that the rebel armj^were on their march, on which, after an hour's halt, when, by turning to the left, they might have reached the high ground at Tranent before the rebels, they marched on to that plain before described, now called the field of battle. This field was entirely clear of the crop, the last sheaves having been carried in the night before ; and neither cottage, tree, or bush were, in its whole extent, except one solitary thorn hush which grew on the marsh between Seaton and Preston fields, around and near to which Jay the greatest number of slain, and whiciv* remains there to this day, though the fields have been long since completely enclosed. The army marched straight to the west end of this field till they came near the walls of the enclosures of Preston, which reached from the road leading from the village of Preston north to Tranent meadow and Banktown, down almost half-way to Prestonpans, to which town, from this enclosure, there was no interruption; and the whole projections of those enclosures into the plain to the east were not above 300 yards. That part of it which belonged to Preston estate was divided into three shots, as they were called, or rigg lengths, the under shot, the middle and- the upper. A cart road for carrying out dung divided the two first, which lay gently sloping to the sea, from which it was separated by, garden walls, and a large enclosure for a rabbit warren. The upper shot was divided from the middle one by a footpath, and lay almost level sloping imperceptibly to Tranent Meadow. This was properly the field of battle, which on account of the slope was not seen fully from the lower fields or the town.. Near to those walls on the east the army formed their first line of battle fronting west. They were hardly formed when the rebel army- appeared on the high ground at Birsley, south-west of our army about a mile. On sight of them our army shouted. They drew nearer Tranent, and our army shifted a little eastward to front them. All this took place by one o'clock. Colonel Gardiner having informed the General and his staff that I was at hand to execute anything in my power for the good of the service, there was sent to me a message to inquire if I could provide a proper person to venture up to the Highland army, to make his observations, and particularly to notice if they had any cannon, or if they were breaking ground anywhere. With some difficulty I prevailed on my father's church-officer, a fine stout man, to make this expedition, which he did immediately. A little farther on in the afternoon the same aide-de-camp, an uncle of Sir Ralph Abercombie's, came to request me to keep a look-out from the top of the steeple, and observe if at any time ,any detachment from the main army was sent westwards. In the meantime the Highlanders lay with them right close to- Tranent, and had detached some companies down to the churchyard, which was closed by a waggon way which led directly down to our army, and crossed the road leading between Preston and Seaton, w.here Cope's six or seven - pieces of cannon were placed, not above a i third of a mile distant from the church. As the Highlanders appeared north of the church in the churchyard, which was higher than the waggon way, the cannon were fired, and dislodged them from thence. Not long after this, about four in the afternoon, the rebels made a movement to the westward of Birsley, where they had first appeared, and our army took their first position. Soon after this I observed from the steeple a large ? detachment of Highlanders, about 300 or 400, lodge themselves in what was called the Thorney Loan, which led from the west end of Preston to the village of Dolphingston to the south-west. I mounted my horse to make thisknownto thegeneral, and met the aide-de-camp riding briskly down the field, and told him what I had seen. I immediately returned to my station in the steeple. As twilight approached, I observed that detachment withdrawn, and was going up the field to tell this when my doughty arrived, who was going to tell me his story how numerous and fierce the Highlanders were, how keen for the fight, and how they would make but a breakfast pf our men. I made him go with me to the general to tell his own story. In the meantime I visited Colonel Gardiner for a third time that day on his post, and found him grave, but serene and resigned ; and he concluded by praying God to bless me, and that he could not wish for a better night to> lie on the field ', and then called for his cloak and other conveniences for lying ;down; as he said they would be awakedlearly enough in the morning, as he thought, by the countenance of the enemy, for "they, haifrnow shifted their position to a sloping fieldr«ast<from the church, and were very near ;oiir army, with little more than the- morass* r b«3tWeen." , Coming down the 'field- 1 a»|ted my messenger jjf they had not paid.him 'for; hfa daiigetC Tlfa>t'a farthing had. tKey given Jiiavwhjbh' being of a piece wfthj ,the : rest,of general's, conduot, raised,no sanguine hopes for to-morrow. I "' -gave>th^ poor 'fellow* half-a-crown, which "wg9»^ja|f -iaf 1 sQb^tancei having, delivered

the gold to my father the night before. When I returned to my father's house, I found it crowded with strangers, some of them volunteers, and some Merse clergymen, particularly Monteith, and Laurie, and Pat Simson\ They were very noisy and boastful of their achievements, one of them having the dragoon's broadsword who had fallen into the coal" pit, and the other the musket he had taken from a Highland soldier between the armies. Simson, who was cousin to Adam Drummond of Meginch, captain and paymaster in Lee's regiment, had a pair of saddle-bags entrusted to him, containing 400 guineas, which Patrick not imprudently gave to my father to keep all night for him, out of any danger of being plundered. Perceiving that there would be no room for me without incommoding the strangers, I stole away to a neighbouring widow gentlewoman's, where I bespoke a bed, and returned to supper at my father's. But no sooner had I cut up the cold sirloin that my mother had provided, than I fell fast asleep, having been much worn out with all the fatigues of the preceding week. I retired directly. I directed the maid to awake me the moment the battle began, and fell into a profound sleep in an instant. I had no need to be awaked, though the maid was punctual, for I heard the first cannon that was fired, and started to my clothes ; which, as I neither buckled nor gartered, were on in a moment, and immediately went to my father' 3, not a hundred yards off. All the strangers were gone, and my father had been up before daylight, and had resorted to the steeple. While I was conversing with my mother, he returned to the house, and assured me of what I had guessed before,. that we were completely defeated. 1 ran into the garden where there was a mount in the southeast corner, from which one could see the fields almost to the verge of that part where the battle was fought. Even at that time, which could hardly be more than ten or fifteen minutes after firing the first cannon, the whole prospect was filled with runaways, and Highlanders pursuing them, Many had their coats turned as prisoners, but were still trying to reach the town in hopes of escaping. The pursuing Highlanders, when they could not overtake, fired at them, and I saw two fall in the glebe. By-and-by a Highland officer, whom I knew to be Lord Elcho, passed with his train, and had an air of savage ferocity that disgusted and alarmed. He inquired fiercely of me where a publichouse was to be found ; I answered him very meekly, not doubting but that if I had displeased him with my tone, his reply would have been with a pistol bullet. The crowd of wounded and dying now approached with all their followers, but their groans and agonies were nothing compared with the howlings, and cries, and lamentations of the women, which suppressed manhood and created despondency. Not long after the Duke of Perth appeared with his train, who asked me, in a very different tone, the way to Collector Cheap's, to which house he had. ordered our wounded officers. Knowing the family were from home, I answered the questions of victorious clemency with more assurance of personal safety than I had done to unappeased fury. I directed him the way to the house, which was hard by that where I had slept. The rebel army had the day before marched in three divisions, one of which went straight down the waggon-way to attack our' cannon, the other two crossed the Morass near Seaton-house ; one of which marched north towards Port-Seaton, where the field is broadest, to attack our rear, but over-marched themselves, and fell in with a few companies that were guarding the baggage in a small enclosure near Cockenzie, and took the whole. The main body marched west through the plains, and attacked our army. After firing once they ran on with their broad swords, and our people fled. The dragoons attempted to charge, under , Colonel Whitney, who was wounded, but wheeled immediately, and rode off through the defile between Preston and Bankton to Dolphingston, half a mile off. Colonel Gardiner, with his division, attempted to charge, but was only followed by eleven men, as he had foretold, Cornet Kerr being one. He continued fighting, and had received several wounds, and was at last brought down by the stroke of a broadsword over the head. He was carried to the minister's house at Tranent, where he lived till the next forenoon. His house, which was nearer, was made an hospital for the Highlanders, no person of our army being carried there but the master of Torphichen, who was so badly wounded that he could be sent to no greater distance. Some of the^dragoons fled as far as Edinburgh, and one stood all day at the castle gate, as General Guest ivould not allow him to be taken in. A considerable body of dragoons met at Dolphingston immediately after the rout, little more than half a mile from the field, where Cope joined them ; and where it was said Lord Drummore offered to conduct them back) with assurance of victory when the Highlanders were busy with the booty. But they could not be prevailed on by his eloquence no more than by the youthful ardour of Earls Home andLoudon. After a short halt they marched over Fal-side-hill to Lauder. Sir Peter Halket, a captain in Lee's regiment, acted a distinguished part on this occasion ; for after the rout he kept his company together ; and getting behind a ditch in Tranent Meadow we kept firing away on the rebels till they were glad to let him surrender on terms. In the meantime my father became very uneasy lest I should be ill-treated, as they would discover that I had been a volunteer in Edinburgh ; he therefore ordered the horses to be saddled, and telling me that the sea was out, and that we could escape by the shore without being seen, we mounted, taking .a sho'rti leave of my mother and the young ones, and took the way he had pointed out. We escaped without interruption till we came to Portseton harbour, a mile off, where we were obliged to turn up on the land, when my father observing a small party of Highlanders, who were pursuing two or three carts with baggage that were attempting to escape, and coming up with the foremost driver, who would not stop when called to, they shot him on the 3pot. This daunted my father who turned immediately, and took the way we came. We were back again soon after when, taking off my. boots and putting on shoes, I had the appearance of a- person who had not been abroad, I. then proposed to go to Collector Cheap's house, where, I understood," there was twentythree wounded officers, to offer my assistance to* tho surgeons— Cunningham' and

Trotter, the first of whom I knew. They were surgeons to the dragoons, and had surrendered that they might attend the officers. When' I went in., I told Cunning-/ ham (afterwaids the most eminent surgeon in Dublin) that I had come to offer them my services, as, though no surgeon, I had' better hands than a common servant. They were obliged to me ; but the only service I could do to them was to try to find one

of their medicine-chests among the baggage, as they could do nothing for want of instruments. I really undertook this task, provided they would furnish me with a guard. This they hoped they could do ; and knocking at the door of an inner room, a Highland officer appeared, whom they called Captain Stewart. He was goodlooking, grave, and of polished manners. He observed that he would soon find a proper conductor for me, and despatched a servant with a message. In the meantime I observed a very handsome young officer lying in an easy-chair in a faint, and seemingly dying. They led me to a chest of drawers, where lay a piece of his skull about two fingers' breadth and an inch and a half long. I said, " this gentleman must die." "No,"* said Cunningham, "the brain is not affected, nor any vital part ; he has youth and a fine constitution on his side ; and could I but get my instruments, there would be no fear of him. This man was Captain Blake. Captain Stewart's messenger arrived with a fine, brisk, little, well-dressed Highlander, armed cap-a-pie with pistols, and dirk, and broadsword. Captain Stewart gave him his orders, and we set off immediately. Never did any young man more perfectly display the boastful temper of a raw soldier, new to conflict and victory, than this Highland warrior. He said he had that morning been armour-bearer to the Duke of Perth, whose valour was as conspicuous as his clemency ; that now there was no doubt of their final success, as the Almighty had blessed them with this almost bloodless victory on their part ; that He had made the sun to shine upon them uninterruptedly since their first setting out ; that no brawling woman had cursed, nor even a dog had barked at them ; that not a cloud had interposed between them and the blessings of Heaven, and that this happy morning — here he was interrupted in his harrangue by observing in the street a couple of grooms leading four fine bloodhorses. He drew a pistol from his belt, and darted at the foremost in a moment. " Who aye you, sir ? and where are you going ? and whom are you seeking ?" It was answered with an uncovered head and a dastardly tone, " I am Sir John Cope's coachman, and I am seeking my master." " You'll not find him here, sir, but you and your man and your horses are my prisoners. Go directly to the collector's house, and put up your horses in the stable, and wait till I return from a piece of public service. Do this directly, as you regard your lives." They instantly obeyed. A few paces further on he met an officer's servant with two handsome geldings and a large and full clothes-bag. Similar questions and answers were made, and we found them all in the place to which they -were ordered, on our return. It was not long before we arrived at Cockenzie, where, under the protection of my guard, I had an opportunity of seeing this victorious army. In general they were of low stature and dirty, and of a contemptible appearance. The officers with whom I mixed were gentlenxin-like, and very civil to me, as I was on an errand of humanity. I was conducted to Lochicl, who was polished and gentle, and who ordered a soldier to make all the inquiry he could about the medicine-chests of the dragoons. After an hour's search, we returned without finding any of them, nor were they ever afterwards recovered. This view I had of the rebel army confirmed me in the prepossession that nothing but the weakest and most unaccountable bad conduct on our part could have possibly given them, the victory. , God- forbid that Britain should ever again be in danger' of being overrun by such a despicable enemy, for, at the best, the Highlanders were at that' time but a raw militia, who. were not cowards. On our return from looking for the medicine-chests, we saw walking on ■ the sea shore, at the east end of Prestonpans, all the officers who were taken prisoners. I then saw human nature in its most abject form, for almost every aspect bore in it shame, and dejection, and despair. They were deeply mortified with what had happened, and timidly anxious about the future, for they were doubtful whether they were to be treated as prisoners of war or as rebels. I ventured to speak to one of them, who was nearest me, a Major Severn, for Major Bowles, my acquaintance, was much wounded, and at the collector's. He answered some questions I put to him with civility, and I told him what errand 1 had been on, and with what humanity I had seen the wounded officers treated, and ventured to assert that the prisoners would be well used. The con-, fidence with which I spoke seemed to raise his spirits, which 1 completed by saying that nothing could have been expected but what had happened, when the foot were so shamefully deserted by the dragoons. Before we got back to the collector's house, the wounded officers were all dressed ; Captain Blakejs head was trepanned, and he was laid in bed, for they had got instruments from a surgeon who lived in the town, of whom. I had told Cunningham*, and they were ordered up to Bankton, Colonel Gardiner's house, where the wounded Highlanders were, and also £he honourable Mr. Sandilands. Two captains were killed outright, besides Gardiner ; namely, Captain Stewart, of Physgill, whose wife was my relation, and who has a monument for him erected in the churchyard of Prestonpans by his father-in-law,, Patrick Heron, of Heron, Esq. ; the other ,was Captain ,Brymer, of. Edrom, in the Merse^' . "While we were breakfasting at my ■ father',B, som,e young friends of mine called, among whom was James Dunlop, jun., of Garnkirk, my particulars acquaintance at Glasgow.. He and his companions had ridden through the field of battle, and, being well acquainted with the Highland chiefs, assured us there was no danger, as they were civil to everybody. My father, who was impatient till he saw me safe, listened to this, and, immediately ordered the horses. We rode through the field of battle, where the dead bodies still layj between eleven and twelve o'clock.-mostly stript. There were about 200, we thought. There were only slight guards and. a few straggling boys. We

rode along the field to Seaton, and met no interruption till we came close to the village, when four Highlanders darted out of it; and cried in a wild tone, presenting their pieces, " Fourich, fourich ! " (i.e., stop, 1 stop !) By advice of our Glasgow frientts we stopped, and gave them shillings a-pieee, with which they were heartily contented. We parted with our friends and rqde on, and got to Mr. Hamilton's, minister at Bolton, a solitary place, at a distance from any road, by two o'clock, and remained there all day. My father, having time to recollect himself, fell into a new anxiety, for he then called to mind that, besides sundry watches and purses which he had taken to keep, he also had Pat Simson's 400 guineas. After many proposals and projects, and, among the rest, my earnest desire to return alone, it was at last agreed to write v letter in Latin to John Ritchie, the schoolmaster, afterwards minister of Abercorn, and instruct him to go at night and secrete the watches and purses if still there, and bury the saddlebags in the garden. Ritchie was also requested to come to us next day. My father "and Mr. Hamilton carried on the work { of that day, Sunday, with zeal, and noT only prayed fervently, for the King, bus'"warned the people against being se- ■ duced.by appearances that the Lord was with the rebels^ and that their cause in the end would be prosperous. But no sooner had we dined than my father grew impatient to see my mother and the children, Ritchie having written by the messenger that all was quiet. He wanted to go alone, but that I could not allow. We set out in due time, and arrived before it was dark, and found the family quite well, and my mother in good spirits. She was naturally strong-minded, and void of imaginary fears ; but she had received comfort from the attention paid to her ; for Captain Stewart, by the Duke of Perth's order, as he said, I gave one of his ensigns, a Mr. Brydone, a I particular charge of our family, and ordered him to call upon her at least twice a-day. We^soon began to think of my father's charge of watches and money ; and when it was dark enough, I went into the garden to look for the place where Ritchie had bufied the saddle-bag 3. This was no diffibult search, for he had written us that 'tljey \Vere .below a particular pear tree. To 'be sure,', he had buried the treasure, but he had left the leather belts by which they w'etg fixed fully above ground, so that if the Highlanders had been of a curious or prowling disposition, they must have discovered this important sum. Soon after thjs Ritchie arrived. He had set out for Bolton early in the afternoon ; but, taking a different road that was nearer for people on foot, he did not meet us, and had returned immediately. On setting out, not twenty yards from the manse of Prestonpans, he was stopped by a single Highlander, who took from him all the money that he had, which was six shillings ; but as he spared his watch, he was contented. Not long after came in my mother's guard, Ensign Brydone, a well-looking, sweettempered young man, about twenty years af,age. He was Captain Stewart's ensign. Finding all-.the family assembled again, he resisted my mother's faint invitation to supper. She replied that, as he was her guard, she hoped he would come as often as he could. He promised to breakfast with us next morning^ He came at the hour appointed, nine o'clock. My mother's custom was to mask the tea before morning prayer, which she did, and soon after my father came into the room he called the servants to prayers. We knelt down, when, Brydone turning awkwardly, his broadsword swept off the table a china plate with a roll of butter on it. Prayer being ended the good lady did not forget her plate, but, taking it up whole, she said smiling, and with a curtsey, " Captain Brydone, this is a good omen, and I trust our cause will be as safe in the end from your army as my plate lias heen from the sweep of your sw<|>rd." The' young man bowed, an 4 sa t down " to " breakfast and ate heartily, but I "afterwards thought that the bad success of his sword, and my mother's application had made him thoughtful, as .Highlanders are very superstitious. During the rest of the week, while I remained at home, finding "him very ignorant of history, and without political principles, unless it was a blind attachment to the chief, I thought I convinced him, in the many walks I had with him, thst his cause would in the end be unsuccessful. I learned afterwards that though he marched with them to England, he retired before the battle of Falkirk, and appeared no more. He was a miller's son near Drummond Castle.

Big Wavks. — When the great ocean is disturbed it forms surface waves, Avhich are sometimes of great magnitude. In a gale, such waves have boen more than once measured, andJt is found that the .extreme height from thejiop to the deepest depression of large storm waVtes has been nearly 50 feet, their length being from 400 to GOO yards, a,'nd their rate of motjo'fi through' the water about half a mile a minute. Such waves, breaking over an obstacjeof any kind, or mingling strangely with the clouded, atmosphere raging above, are the wildest, grandest, and most terrible phenomena of nature. When they appz'oaeh land they break up into much smaller bodies of water, but these are often lifted by shoals and obstructed by rocks till they are thrown up in masses of many tons to a height of more than a hundred feet. The tidal wave is another phenomena of watery motion of a somewhat different kind, producing an alternate rise and fall of the water over all parts of the ocean every 12 hours. In addition to the true waves there are also many definite streams or currents of water conveying large portions of the sea from one latitude to another, modifying the temperature of the adjacent land, and producing a mixture of the waters at the surface or aj some depth which cannot but be extremely conducive to the general benefit of all living, beings. Storm tides, or those waves, whifyh, occasionally rush without any pause along narrow and confined seas, or, up .funnelshaped' inlets, have occasionally proved disastrous to a fearful, extent. ' Thus it is recorded | that upwards of 100,000 persons,, perished in i ther-year 1232, and again in 1242,'hi'this way, .numerous complete villages , k and towns being "wa^jjeclaway By a wave -advancing, from the North; Sea over the low, lands -of Holland. BetWeen Nova Scotia and New Brunswick the ordinary spring tide often rises to a height of a hundred feet* sweeping away the cattle feeding cjntlje shore, —rA II the Year Round.

Women'often fancy themselves to be in love when they "are" not. The love of being loved, fondness of flattery, the pleasure of giving; 1 pain Ho a rival, and a -passion" oT novelty and excitement, are frequently mistaken for something fhr better and holier,' till marriage - disenchanfs the fair self-deceiver arid leaves her astonished at. her own indifference and the' ey'ajoration of her romantic fancies*'''