ng has been
done to the reputation of a man who has been in his grave for nearly a
century and a half by employing the colours of tradition to heighten the
pictures of fancy.

CHAPTER VI.

Could Monmouth's influence have lasted, their defeat at Bothwell Bridge
might have turned out well for the Covenanters. As soon as he had led
his army back into quarters, he hastened to London, where he so strongly
represented the brutal folly and mismanagement of Lauderdale's
government, that he prevailed upon the King to try once more the effect
of gentler measures. An indemnity was granted for the past, and even
some limited form of indulgence for the future. But the unexpected
return of the Duke of York from Holland put an end to all these humane
counsels. Monmouth was himself soon again in disgrace; and Lauderdale,
though his power was now past its height, was still strong enough to
mould to his own will concessions for which the time had now perhaps
irrevocably gone.

The twelve hundred prisoners from Bothwell were marched in chains to
Edinburgh, and penned like sheep in the churchyard of the Grey Friars,
the building which barely forty years before had witnessed the
triumphant birth of that Covenant which was, if ever covenant of man
was, assuredly to be baptized in blood. Two of them, and both ministers,
were immediately executed: five others, as though to appease the cruel
ghost of Sharp, were hanged on Magus Moor: of the rest, the most part
were set at liberty on giving bonds for their future good behaviour,
while the more obstinate were shipped off to the plantations.

Claverhouse was now sent back to his old employment. Though none of his
own letters of this time have survived, it is clear from an Order of the
Privy Council that shortly after the affair at Bothwell he was again
entrusted with the control of the rebellious shires. There is
unfortunately no record of his own by which it is possible to check the
vague charges of Wodrow, who wisely declines to commit himself to
particulars on the ground that "multitudes of instances, once flagrant,
are now at this distance lost," while not a few, he candidly admits,
"were never distinctly known." In the rare cases in which he becomes
more specific in his complaints, he does not make it clear that the
offences were committed in Claverhouse's presence, nor even that they
were always committed by soldiers of his troop--"the soldiers under
Claverhouse" seem to stand w