Authors: Unknown
The
Grahams rode on into the city, tired as they were.
Montrose,
deciding that Aberdeen obviously required a lesson as to where its
best interests lay, imposed a much stricter regime than heretofore,
a curfew, and requisitioning. Also another severe corporate fine. In
war, especially civil war, the price for facing both ways - or
neither - can be high.
Scouts
trailing the retiring Gordon allies sent back reports that they had
made, not for Strathbogie but for Gight, a strong castle of a branch
of the Gordons, on the Ythan, near Fyvie, much more centrally
placed. That they had setded here, rather than retired to their
remoter fastnesses, seemed to indicate that this was only a
reforming, a gathering of strength for further hostilities. The
young Lord Lewis, the thirteen-year-old fire-eater, was said to be
there.
Montrose
had sent out urgent commands, on his way north, for more men to be
mustered to his banner. Waiting three more days for these levies to
accumulate, on the 30th of May, with a force of almost 4000, he
marched north for Gight.
He
found the castle a tough nut to crack, a strong place crowning a
tall and rocky eminence amongst the Formartine braes, with the
valley-floors around it deliberately flooded and boggy, so that the
castle-crowned bluff was but the summit of a sort of island, an
island only reachable by a causeway, crooked and gapped, through the
marsh; and easily defended. Moreover the swamp-enclosed area was
sufficiently large to offer temporary support to considerable
numbers of men and horses; there were even cattle grazing there - so
it would be difficult to starve out the defenders. Only by artillery
could the place be fairly swiftly reduced -and Montrose had no
artillery. There was little that they could do but sit down and
besiege the place; but at least it would keep the enemy leadership
immobilised and out of further mischief meantime. It was
inglorious warfare - but anything else would inevitably have
produced heavy casualties, with no certainty of success. The
thought that he was facing a thirteen-year-old opponent did not help
the Graham much, either.
So
passed two frustrating, mosquito-haunted days and nights, as May
turned to June, and the cuckoos mocked the Covenant's
Lieutenant-General from every braeside. Then, almost relievedly, he
received news, sent hot-foot from Edinburgh and by Henderson
himself, of all people, that the young Viscount Aboyne, with
Hamilton's invasion fleet, had persuaded that reluctant warrior to
switch plans, leave the unrewarding Firth of Forth, and sail for
Aberdeen. All the King's ships had not left, but a sizeable
proportion had sailed away, allegedly with much artillery. It was
the Tables' urgent commands, therefore, that a landing should be
prevented if at all possible, and the city held at all costs.
So
the siege of Gight was raised forthwith, and Montrose, feeling
distinctly foolish, hurried the twenty-five miles back to Aberdeen.
There he found no enemy force, but rumours that there had been a
landing farther south - indeed in his own Montrose area. Concerned,
he passed on to Stonehaven, recognising that this might be a move to
cut his communications with the Covenant forces in the south.
He waited at his old headquarters at Dunnottar, while probing
squadrons rode off to gain firm news.
The
firm news, when it materialised however, came from a different airt.
No fleet, but a single small ship flying the King's flag, had made a
secret landing
north
of
Aberdeen, disembarking a tiny but quite illustrious company - not
Hamilton admittedly, but young Aboyne, with the Earls of
Tullibardine and Glencairn - the latter Hamilton's cousin and a
well-known mercenary-soldier named Colonel Gunn; also two
field-pieces. Where the rest of Hamilton's fleet might be, was not
clear; but the present information seemed definite and detailed
enough.
Montrose
was in something of a quandary. This new leadership clearly
indicated a stepping up of enemy activity especially as it was said
that the King had transferred Huntly's Lieutenancy of the
North to his second son, Aboyne, only seventeen years of age as he
was. On the other hand, where was Hamilton himself, and the main
invasion fleet? The rumours that there had been a major landing
somewhere farther south, might still have some foundation - and
this could have more immediate danger than the arrival of the little
group farther north. No word of it came from his scouts or local
informants; but it still might be a projected rather than an actual
landing. Hamilton had apparently left the Forth; he must be
somewhere.
So
the Graham waited at Dunnottar, ready to move either way. He
utilised the time further to train his forces; and was probably
fortunate in having the services of one more of the mercenaries, one
Major John Middlcton, son of a local Mearns laird, a loud-mouthed,
swaggering, uncouth soldier, but experienced and efficient at his
trade.
In
the event, it was from the north that the trouble developed - and
more swiftly than might have been anticipated - while still
there was no word of Hamilton. Aboyne made a quick link-up with his
brother Lewis, and die en-heartened Gordons flocked to their joint
standard. They had as many as 4000 clansmen and allies at their
backs in a couple of days, determined to avenge the insult to their
chief. In brave style they dashed south, and once again Aberdeen
fell. The young Gordons had all the traditional fighting spirit
missed out of their father. Without delaying in the city, most of
their host pushed on southwards for Stonehaven and a decision. Not
only so, but they commandeered two Aberdeen vessels, to add to their
single King's ship, and put aboard these three a collection of
cannon raped from various castles in the area, heavy, rusted and
antiquated pieces, as well as the two fine field-pieces brought from
the South. The ships were to sail parallel with the Gordon advance,
and to bombard the Covenant forces from the sea.
This
bold strategy was rather spoiled by strong off-shore winds and
driving rain, which kept the vessels out to sea, far out of range,
and shrouded the land in dull grey curtaining. Montrose took fullest
advantage of the weather - which he reckoned would be apt to
unsettle and depress hastily mustered irregulars more than his
better-trained and disciplined force - and moved north to take up a
strong position at Megray Hill, just inland from Garron Point, two
miles north of Stonehaven, where the road from Aberdeen ran through
a fairly steep wooded ravine. In the circumstances, since Aboyne was
so keen, he would let the Gordons take the initiative.
Whether
it was the weather that indeed depressed them, a recognition that
Megray was no place to fight a battle, or good advice from the
veteran Colonel Gunn, the royalist army ground to a halt. There was
no way round Montrose's positions, which he could not block.
Artillery could have blasted him out of that ravine and its flanks -
but the Gordons' artillery was at sea and nowhere in evidence. It
was either a frontal assault against an entrenched foe, with most
certain heavy slaughter; or retiral, with Montrose content to
sit tight. It took a while to convince the Gordon fire-eaters, a wet
and gloomy interval in the rain. They then turned round and retired
in good order for Aberdeen again - although taking the elementary
precaution of leaving a strong rearguard to continue to bottle up
the mouth of the ravine until they were safely withdrawn. Scarcely a
shot had been fired.
Montrose,
still concerned about his rear and Hamilton's main army, did not
attempt to rush the Gordon retiral, as he might have done. He waited
there in the rain, until in the early afternoon Kilpont arrived back
from a three-day survey of the coast-line as far south as Arbroath,
to declare that there was no single sign of Hamilton or his army.
Whatever Henderson and the Tables said, it seemed that the
elusive Marquis could be forgotten meantime.
Relieved,
Montrose gave the order to advance on Aberdeen.
The
weather cleared a little, and a pale sun was gleaming fitfully when,
towards early evening, they approached the Dee, the great river
which bounded the city to the south. Not unexpectedly they found the
Brig o' Dee held against them, the ancient narrow bridge of seven
arches,
350
feet
long, endowed by the good Bishop Elphinstone, founder of the
University, in the days when bishops were more to Scotland's
taste. This had been an obvious point of hold-up; but what Montrose
had not allowed for was the high spate in which the river was
running. Presumably the rain had been even worse in the high Monadh
Ruadh mountains to the west where the Dee rose. It was now a wide
and raging torrent, and all ideas of fording it could be abandoned.
And there was no other bridge.
Nor
was it merely that the Brig o' Dee was held against them. The
Gordons had stopped there, drawn up their entire army across the
river, Highland foot in front, Lowland cavalry behind, flanking the
bridge for half a mile on either side, with a strong party of
musketeers on the bridge itself.
Montrose
took counsel of his only professional. 'What think you, Middleton ?
Are they safe from us?'
'No
force is ever safe from another, of similar strength, my lord. And
we are not far off equal strength, I think. If you are sufficiently
determined, you can have them.'
'By
that, you mean prepared to lose sufficient men, sir?'
'War
is not possible without losing men.'
'But
wits and generalship may save many lives, sir. And every life a soul
before God.'
'I
never yet went into batde to save souls, my lord!'
'Perhaps
not. But I do not forget it. What do you suggest, in this pass,
Major?'
To
wear them down. Where they are weakest. A time-honoured maxim, my
lord. And where are these like to be weakest? Not in numbers. Not in
spirit, I think. Not in broadswords, or even cavalry. But -
ammunition, now? For their muskets and hagbuts. I jalouse they'll
have no great supplies of powder and shot We have not, ourselves, by
God - and they are like to have less. Have them to use it up, then,
without us using our own.'
'Sound,
yes. But how?'
'Make
cavalry charges. At the bridge-head. A squadron at a time. Many
charges. Always drawing off just before coming into musket range.
Musketeers and hagbuttcrs, I'll vow, will not sit close under
charging horse, without firing well before they are in range.'
'Mm.
That is well thought of...'
So
the Covenant horse, of which Montrose had about 1000, were formed up
in their squadrons, and sent in charging, banners waving,
trumpets blowing, 200 or so at a time, to the bridge-end, time and
again, always to swing away left and right, just out of musket-shot
of their target. And each time the ragged rattle and crack of fire
rang out. It looked, of course, as though it was the fire which
consistently turned the cavalry back - though few men fell. The odd
stray or spent shot at times did wound or bring down man or beast;
but the losses were very small. Between charges, the enemy were
given plenty of opportunity to reload and wait anxiously. In time it
probably dawned on the Gordon command that they were being led
grievously to waste powder and shot; but it would be an unusual
commander who could prevail upon his infantry to sit tight, in an
exposed position, under repeated cavalry charging, and to reserve
their fire until it could be fully effective. The men, of course,
never could tell whether or not this time the riders would indeed
thunder down upon them, with no swinging away, and mangled death
under slashing swords and horses' hooves be their lot Although this
manoeuvre, therefore, was successful, so far as it went, and great
quantities of Gordon ammunition was expended at little cost to the
Covenanters, while the two main armies stood by all but inactive,
the time-factor told against the one side as well as the other. The
clouds had come down again, and it was going to be early dark for a
June night Admittedly the night might offer new opportunities -
but that applied to both almost equally matched sides.