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Rollo
had succeeded in rescuing Nathaniel Gordon, so that now the advantage
on both wings lay with the royalists. No artillery had so far fired,
on either side; nor had Montrose so much as drawn sword, but sat his
horse on a vantage-point, young Johnnie at his side, where he could
oversee all and direct, a general's stance, however frustrating for
an excited youth - and for that matter for his father likewise, who
always itched to take the active role. Now he ordered a general
advance, with Nathaniel Gordon to make a swift encircling move to the
west. The trumpets shrilled.

Strangely,
the two centres never really came in contact Those trumpets, in fact,
sounded the real end of the Battle of Aberdeen, without a cannon-ball
fired - for Balfour and his main body, seeing what had happened to
their flanks and alarmed at the obvious flanking move on the west,
did not wait for some specific defeat Led by their mounted leaders,
they fled - though the ministers with them, shaking fists upraised
to heaven, called down die wrath of God on weak-kneed back-sliders
and craven sons of Belial, some still screaming that 'Jesus and no
quarter" cry. These were the last to go - and the Irish made
short work of such as left it too late, cloth or none.

So
now there was another running fight like that after Tippermuir - only
the distance to run was much shorter and soon the fighting was taking
place in the streets of Aberdeen. This time, of a set and harsh
purpose, Montrose made no attempt to call off the dogs of war. It is
doubtful indeed whether he could have done so effectively, if he
would. The Irish had Colkitto's promise that on this occasion they
should have their way. Aberdeen required, and had asked for, a
lesson. It should have it. James Graham deliberately turned his back
on the city which had opposed him four times, and returned to his
camp with his disappointed son. Major-General Alastair MacDonald
should show Aberdeen who was King in Scotland.

The
night Montrose paced the dusty floor of the mill granary he had taken
over as headquarters, in no mood for sleep, handsome features set,
fine eyes bleak, with none of the victor's triumph, no sense of duty
well done. For once, none of his lieutenants dared seek his company,
even Pate Graham keeping his distance. He went through the hell of
his own deliberate choice, steeling himself to do no more than this
dire pacing, when every inch of him, every nerve, screamed to him to
go, go back to Aberdeen and halt what he knew must be taking place
therein, the terror and horror of a great city sacked. He won that
savage fight with himself and his better, or weaker, nature - but at
a price, a terrible price. He would never be quite the same man
again, and knew it. But
...
he was the King's Lieutenant, no private individual. And Scotland, as
well as Aberdeen itself, required, demanded a demonstration of
unmistakable vehemence and proportions. An infinity of lives might
well be spared, years of warfare saved, by this stern decision.
Somewhere, sometime, someone must take it. It had to be he, and
it had to be here.

The
recurrent thought that Archibald Campbell would have taken it without
a second thought, and slept sound thereafter, was no least help to
him.

Hollow-eyed
and still awake, he watched the new day dawn. He did not wait to see
his son John, felt that he could by no means face him. Thus early he
rode into the city.

Bodies
still littered the route of the fleeing Covenant army - in the main
naked bodies for, it seemed, the Irish were particular about this,
stripping their victims before finally despatching them so that good
clothing might not be spoiled. In the city streets it was the same -
although here not a few of the bodies wore tartan and lay about drunk
rather than dead. Smoke billowed from burning buildings, blood was
splashed on walls and cobbles, furnishings lay smashed everywhere,
warehouses spilled their contents. Sickened, Montrose rode to the
Town House and Tolbooth, where he unceremoniously roused his
snoring Major-General out of drunken slumber on the Council-table
with an unclothed lady, and ordered him to get his men rounded up and
out of the city as quickly as might be, without further licence.
They, and Aberdeen, had had their night. At Colkitto's incoherent
protests, he rounded on him with a harsh vehemence hitherto unknown,
eyes blazing. Muttering, the giant MacDonald stumbled off, dragging
his bewildered bedfellow with him.

All
morning James Graham sat in the Town House receiving complainants,
petitioners, protestations, of individuals and deputations,
magistrates, ministers, merchants, prominent citizens. Stony-faced he
heard their woes, their pleas, their charges. From these assertions
there could scarcely be a citizen who had escaped death, injury,
rape, pillage or outrage. Considering that Colkitto's total force was
now less than
1200,
and
that the population was nearly ten times that, this seemed less than
probable. He demanded details, numbers, specific instances. He did
not get them -only allegations that men, women and children had been
slaughtered indiscrininately by the hundred, and things done which it
was not lawful even to mention. That it was heathen Papists who had
committed diese enormities was the prime complaint, especially of the
ministers; a woman raped by a good Protestant seemed to be another
matter. Montrose dismissed them all, refused to see more, sent out a
fact-finding team under Black Pate, and himself rode out of town
northwards, unaccompanied, to be alone with his thoughts.

If
it was peace of mind that he sought, he did not find it so easily.
Nor was it so easy to impose the discipline and order he had
commanded - even for Colkitto to round up his Irishry and
Highlanders. Many of them had gone to ground, with women and drink,
all over the city, making up for long months of privation, danger,
hardships. Covenant soldiers too had likewise gone to ground and were
equally beyond discipline. From the ordinary Aberdonians' point of
view, there was probably not much to choose from between them.

That
night was only a little better than the last.

Pate
Graham's team reported to Montrose, back at his headquarters, such
facts as they had been able to uncover. The city had had a bad time
of it, undoubtedly, and many were dead, there had been much looting
and a deal of rape and assault likewise. But there had been no
wholesale slaughter of the citizenry, nor yet of women and children,
as some alleged. So far as they could ascertain, out of a total of
about
200
dead
within the city, only nine women were included, these apparenly slain
in drunken brawls. Most of the others were Covenant soldiers who had
got as far as the streets, and to whom Colkitto's men had given no
quarter admittedly. A few houses had been fired, undoubtedly much
gear stolen and warehouses rifled. Also a number of women were
missing - but some of such who had been run to earth proved to have
gone with the newcomers voluntarily and quite happily. All in all,
Newcastle had suffered much worse from Leslie's army, and even
Cromwell's Puritans made greater havoc in conquered towns.

Nevertheless,
James Graham was sick at heart. God willing, never again would
he allow himself to be manoeuvred into a position where such a
decision and responsibility was demanded of him.

Meantime,
he was determined to get away from Aberdeen at the earliest possible
moment. Argyll was drawing near -and if he sent any large proportion
of his
1500
cavalry
on in advance, they could be here in a day or so. In the present
drunken and demoralised state of his force, this could spell
disaster. They would move out tomorrow, for the north.

But
the morrow saw Colkitto still
300
men
short of total, and angrily refusing to move without them. They were
the backbone of the royalist army, and both men knew it. Montrose
could only fret, and send out search-parties and wait

It
was next day before the blear-eyed, jaundiced, grumbling,
overladen, over-dressed horde straggled out of Aberdeen northwards,
up the Don valley, everyone out-of-temper. Despite Montrose's
objections and offence a long tail of women now accompanied them.
Colkitto informed him that they were part of the price he had to pay
for his veterans -and he could have the choice of any one of them any
night! Argyll was reported to be only twenty miles away, coming down
the Dee - but from all accounts going very warily, and certainly not
rushing his cavalry ahead of him. Presumably he had heard of
Balfour's defeat, and was more impressed by it than was the victor.
Indeed Montrose had to remind himself more than once that he
had
just
won his second major victory. He had no least feelings of triumph -
quite the reverse.

They
made slow progress, slower than ever, for now they had the heavy
cannon captured from Balfour, as well as the lighter Tippermuir
pieces, to hold them back. And, of course, the women and the lengthy,
untidy train of booty. It was a humiliation and a disgrace for James
Graham to trail this sorry spectacle through the Aberdeenshire
countryside; but he was not in a position to take strong action with
the Irish and Islesmen. He needed them too much. Also, he was feeling
less than well. Not only his mental state was depressed. He had
seldom felt less lively.

But
at Kintore, where they camped that first night, amidst an uproar of
drunkenness, skirling women, and general indiscipline, he wrote
a despatch to King Charles, at Oxford, in determinedly cheerful note,
announcing victory and sending all encouragement - so much more
than in his present frame of mind he felt Duty has many facets. Right
away, in the September dusk, Sir William Rollo was sent off with it,
on the long road south, before Argyll could block the way.

In
one way, in his present angry mood, a trial of strength with
Archibald Campbell, a once-and-for-all set-to, would have appealed to
Montrose, even lacking his accustomed energy. But the other's
1500
horse
precluded anything of the sort until he himself could build up a
powerful cavalry wing, or arrange it so that any clash took place on
terrain where the advantage lay with the foot, he dare not come to
conclusions with Argyll, galling as it was to seem to flee before
him.

They
were in Gordon country now, however, and would be for days. At
Kildrummy, two days later, farther up Don-side, he sent off Nathaniel
Gordon to Strathbogie, with a message to his young chief, urging that
he join him and give command to his clan to do likewise. The Gordon
lairds could produce horsemen by the hundred, the thousand almost,
basis of the cavalry force he so greatly needed. He would have gone
himself so important was the requirement; but Colkitto was still
resentful over the Aberdeen business and his men must on no account
be allowed to get more out-of-hand than they were already, in this
Gordon country, or all hopes of co-operation could be forgotten. He
sent his son with Nathaniel however, as of equal rank to the Lord
Graham -his first duty in the King's cause.

Aberdeenshire
is a vast county, and progress was painfully slow. On the
20th,
they
heard that Argyll had entered Aberdeen city the day before - his
first act to levy heavy contributions on the already outraged
citizens. But so far there was no sign of pursuit. It looked as
though the Campbell was little more anxious to come to blows,
meantime, than was his foe.

Nevertheless,
always concerned about the enemy's great preponderance in cavalry,
which could so rapidly catch up with his cumbered and crawling host,
Montrose pressed on farther into the west, following Don up into the
mountains of its birdi, by Glenbuchat and Invereman, Forbes country
with no friendliness shown to the visitors. And when Nathaniel Gordon
and young Johnnie caught up with them again, he pressed on farther
and faster. For they brought word that he was not going to get his
much-needed cavalry from the Gordons. The Lord Gordon had listened to
them courteously enough, and admitted that he was at a loss to where
his allegiance lay. But his father, Huntly, had sent categorical
commands from his hide-out in Caithness, that there were to be no
Gordon levies lent to Montrose, King's commission or none. Was not he
himself King's Lieutenant of the North? If King Charles was so
foolish as to trust the wrong man, and to choose such as Montrose to
represent him, instead of his old and tried friends, so much the
worse for His Grace. George Gordon had an excellent memory, however
lacking he might be in leadership. And he was still chief.