The Scots in Germany

Scottish bravery and Scottish loyalty have been rendered immortal by the historian and the poet not only in their motherland. Kings and Emperors of the Continent have acknowledged these sterling qualities from time immemorial. In France,—a country led by the common hatred of England into an alliance, which for centuries formed the central fact of English history,—there existed a Royal Bodyguard composed of Scotsmen since very early times. Its duty was to accompany the sovereign wherever he went and to answer for his safety. In the hands of its officers were the keys of the royal bedchamber and private chapel; they protected the royal barge, when the King had to cross a river or lake, and the sedan chair in which he was being carried. On state occasions three of this Bodyguard stood on each side of His Majesty, their halberds decorated with silk of the royal colour, white. As a military regiment the guard appears since 1425, in order to fight henceforth in all the great battles at the head of the French army.

In Poland, where king and nobles alike used to surround their persons with a bodyguard, it was the Scots again of whom by preference it was composed. In Denmark and Holland, Scotch regiments have for centuries acquired honour and glory on many a battlefield. More than once Scottish officers have held the fate of colossal Russia in their hands, and Gustavus Adolfus, "the Lion and the Bulwark of the North," would without his Scotch regiments and leaders hardly have gained his victories and saved the cause of Protestantism in Germany.

It is not our task here to follow the glorious career of the Scottish Guard in France. He who desires information on this interesting chapter of French history, will find in English as well as in French literature works full of diligent research and fascinating detail. We have to do with the deeds of Scotch warriors and officers in Germany and for a German cause.

It is commonly taken for granted that Scotch officers and mercenaries did not appear on German soil before the Thirty Years’ War (1618-1648). This is however erroneous. Already three centuries earlier, at the time when the Order of the Teutonic Knights proclaimed a crusade against the heathen in the far east of Prussia, the knights of Scotland also prepared for such a pious and warlike expedition. In England the powerful Earl of Derby, afterwards King Henry IV, and many other nobles of many Christian nations had set the example, during the years 1389-1391. Indeed so popular had these Prussian crusades become, that not only was the German word "reysa"—a journey, an expedition—adopted as the technical term for them in English, but they were made the final proof and seal of the perfection of a Christian knight. Thus Chaucer in the Prologue to the Canterbury Tales describes his knight—

"Full often tyme he hadde the bord bygonne
Above alle naciouns in Pruce:
In Lettowe hadde he reysed and in Ruce
Ne Christian man so ofte of his degree";

and already in 1356 we find that the brothers Walther and Norman de Lesselyn obtain safe-conduct to Prussia. Six years later a certain David de Berclay—scutifer—applies for similar letters for himself, twelve knights and twelve horses, bound for Prussia. The same application is made in 1378 by Adam de Heburn who sails for Prussia with ten knights.

But the most celebrated "reyse" of all, was that of Lord William Douglas of Nithisdale, called Black Douglas. It is mentioned by German, French, English and Scotch writers; by the last named not without a touch of the legendary.

William Douglas was the natural son of Archibald Douglas. He was as famous for his knightly virtues as for his prodigious bodily strength. King Robert II of Scotland had given him his daughter Egidia in marriage in acknowledgment of his many deeds of valour, and the united knights of England and Scotland, who after the battle of Otterburne in August 1388 agreed to terminate their incessant feuds by an armistice of three years duration, had, according to Scotch sources, made him commander of a fleet of 240 ships. Shortly after his arrival at Danzig (Danskin) he excited the jealousy of some English warriors of rank, who as friends of his mortal enemy Clifford did not scruple to assassinate him. It appears that this Clifford had in Scotland challenged Douglas to fight him in single combat and, when Douglas went to Paris to procure armour, spread the slanderous rumour, that fear had prompted him to flight. But when his opponent returned in due time for the duel, it was Clifford himself who had absconded. We are not told that he went to Prussia also, but his friends acted for him, hired assassins, waylaid Douglas on his way home from church and killed him and one of his servants near the end of a bridge after a most stubborn resistance. Most probably this was the bridge, or more correctly the quay, of the Mottlau river, called then as now the "long bridge." One of its gates, the Frauenthor, was near the High Altar of the Church of St Mary.

A crime so atrocious could not fail to produce the greatest indignation among the French and Scottish knights. The table of honour at Königsberg at which the Teutonic Knights desired to welcome their foreign guests, was deferred until the arrival in the enemy’s country. Boucicault, the far-famed French warrior, who was present at an expedition into Prussia for the fourth time, openly and vehemently blamed the English for their foul crime, and challenged every one of them to single combat that would call the deed by another name. But the English refused to give an account except to the Scottish knights.

Two points remain unsettled in this affair, so well authenicated in its main features: the place and the time. The French author of the Adventures of Boucicault and one of the German chroniclers place the scene of the murder at Konigsberg, whilst the Scotch and English sources as well as the other German Chronicler mention Danzig as such. The time is variously given as 1390 or 1391; but Douglas seems to have been alive as late as 1392.

However this may be, the old writers are perfectly consistent in the relation of the fact itself; we know even the companions-in-arms of Douglas with tolerable certainty. Their names have curiously enough come to us in an old bill of obligation, written by James Douglas of Dalkeith at Danzig for Sir Robert Stuart of Durisdeer, who lived at the end of the XIVth Century.

After this time we hear almost nothing of Scottish mercenaries in Germany for two centuries; nor is this to be wondered at considering the great draining of warlike youths to France and Holland.

It is not till 1577 that the City of Danzig, then waging war against the King of Poland, Stephan Bathory, hired a regiment of 700 Scots. They were permitted to take their own clergymen with them.

Some thirty or forty years later during an armistice in the Netherlands several Scottish regiments of the Dutch Brigade under Sir E. Cecil were sent to assist the Protestant Elector of Brandenburg in his war against the Emperor Leopold and Wolfgang William of the Bavarian Palatinate for the possession of the principality of Julich. A colonel Henderson is mentioned particularly as having shown great bravery in the capture of the strong fortress of that name.

But only when the bloody torch of the Thirty Years’ War (1618-1648) shed its lurid light over the whole of Europe and when Gustavus Adolfus’ fame, not only as that of a saviour of the cause of protestantism, but also as that of an unusually brilliant general and strategist, rapidly spread over the civilised world, a great number of Scottish officers, many of them of noble rank, enlisted in the Swedish Army, to go, as it were, through the high school of military training, and Scotland became the country in which by far the most numerous levies of soldiers for the "Lion of the North," were raised. Between twenty and thirty thousand men made the cause of the Swedes and of German Protestantism their own.

How deeply this fact, denuding whole tracts of country of its young men, was felt in the domestic life of Scotland, may be read in the dusty records of history. It has found a more eloquent and a more touching expression in the songs of the people.

He’s brave as brave can be;
He wad rather fa’ than flee;
But his life is dear to me,
Send him hame, send him hame.

Your love ne’er learnt to flee
But he fell in Germanie
Fighting brave for loyaltie:
Mournfu’ dame, mournfu’ dame!

Or in another place:

Oh, woe unto these cruell wars
That ever they began!
For they have reft my native isle
Of many a pretty man.

First they took my brothers twain
Then wiled my love frae me:
Oh, woe unto these cruell wars
In low Germanie!

Even in the language of the Gaels the fact stands recorded. There we have a proverb referring to the levies by Colonel Mackay for the Swedes—

Na h-uile fear a theid a dbollaidh
Gheibh a dolar bho Mhac Aoidh.

‘He who is down in luck, can still get a dollar (recruiting money) from Mackay.’

On the whole the report of these Scottish mercenaries is a good one. R. Cannon, the well-known military author, says of them: "No troops could be better fitted, morally as well as physically, for desperate undertakings, than these Scots. They proved hardy, frugal and sober soldiers." The same praise is bestowed upon them by an old wood-engraving preserved in the British Museum. It represents four Highlanders, three in kilts, the fourth in a sort of trunk-hose. Above it are the German words: "In solchem Habit gehen die 800 in Stettin angekommenen Irrländer oder Irren" i.e., "In such dress the 800 Highlanders (lately) arrived at Stettin walk (about)." Under it we read: "Es ist ein starkes, dauerhafftiges Volk, behilft sich mit geringer Speis, hat es nicht Brod, so essen sie Wurzeln, wenn’s auch die Nothdurfft erfordert, konnen des Tags uber die 20 teutsche meil’ lauffen, haben neben Muskeden ihre Bogen und Kocher und lange Messer"; i.e., "They are a strong, hardy race, contenting themselves with little food, if they have no bread, they eat roots and carrots; in case of necessity they are able to walk twenty German miles in a day; they have besides muskets, their bows and quivers and long knives."

What raised the position of the Scottish soldier in the Thirty Years’ War above that of the common mercenary, was the feeling of loyalty towards the unfortunate King of Bohemia, whose wife was a daughter of their own King James VI. They saw in the cause of the Scottish princess their own.

Moreover they mostly descended from decent, if poor, families, and were led by the sons of the lower and higher nobility, often chiefs of the clans. These officers excelled in bravery, pride and a certain "perfervidum ingenium," which is ascribed to the Scots from times immemorial. When the King of Denmark at first refused to let them retain their silk flag with the cross of St Andrew on it, they all threatened instant departure, and when Gustavus Adolfus quizzed brave Colonel Hepburn on account of the splendour of his armour and of his being a Roman Catholic, he at once sheathed his sword and left the Swedish service. The Emperor Charles V of Germany had already recognized the sensitive pride of these high-minded men and wisely recommended: "qu’on n’irritast les Ecossois, sachant bien que les Ecossois estaient pauvres mais gens vaillants" ; and it would have been better if the Swedish king had followed his advice.

To say, however, that these mercenaries of Scotland had all been animated by a religious or even a political motive, would mean to ignore the spirit of the time. Granted that these motives played a conspicuous and noble part in many of the officers, yet with the bulk of them the military training under so famous a King was the first consideration, and with the rank and file of the men— pay and hope of booty.

Walter Scott has in his Legend of Montrose added the sketch of the Scottish soldier of fortune in the Thirty Years’ War to his long and magnificent picture-gallery illustrative of the history of Scotland. For artistic reasons, however, he made our friend Dugald Dalgetty, who changes his masters, after some nice reasoning to comfort his conscience, almost with the same ease as one changes one’s gloves; who performs wonders of valour in their service and remains faithful to them for just as long as his own oath binds him, the representative of the extreme side rather of the Scottish trooper. And when Sir James Turner, to whom we owe several quaintly interesting works on the art of war, writes: "I had swallowed, without chewing, in Germanie, a very dangerous maxime, which militarie men there too much follow, which was, that soe we serve our master honestlie, it is no matter what master we serve"; we perceive at once that these lax principles were not inbred, but reluctantly adopted. Men could not help breathing the tainted moral atmosphere that surrounded them.

In the principal source for this period of blood and war on the continent, the contemporary chronicle of the deeds of Mackay’s Regiment by Colonel Robert Munro, we find instead of lax morals a firm trust in God’s providence and remarks on the virtues and duties of a soldier, the duties of mercy towards the wounded for instance, which bear testimony to the humane and noble character of its author. Two other books, chiefly founded upon these memoirs, give us a very interesting account of those terrible times of religious warfare and the part played in it by the Scots: the Memoirs and Adventures of Sir J. Hepburn, and the Story of the Highlanders under Mackay, Lord Reay.

Guided by these authors and by such material as we have been able to gather from German sources, we will now proceed to sketch the history of the Scotch Brigades in Germany during the Thirty Years’ War.

Colonel Hepburn, General and Maréchal of France in later years, was a young, well educated man, descended from a noble, Catholic family. Already before entering the service of the King of Sweden, he had fought against Stanislas of Poland for the new elected King of Bohemia, Frederic whose wife was, as we have seen, a Stuart Princess. Patriotic feelings had overcome his religious scruples. Many of his like-minded countrymen under the leadership of Sir Andrew Grey had gone with him and everywhere earned the greatest praise for their bravery. Whenever an enterprise of a particularly daring character was to be undertaken, it was mostly Hepburn, who was chosen for it; and thanks to his eminent gifts of strategy and his equally great courage, he generally succeeded in bringing the matter to a victorious issue.

There was in his regiment a certain Colonel Edmond, the son of a baker at Stirling. He once performed the feat of swimming, his sword between his teeth, across the Danube, stealthily passed the Imperial outposts and, favoured by the darkness of the night, penetrated into the Austrian camp, where by stratagem and his giant strength he managed to bind one of the most famous warriors of the day—the French Count and Imperial general Bucquoi. Then he swam back with his prisoner, and having arrived amongst his own, introduced him to his General, the Prince of Orange. Others equally daring were not wanting, notably three brothers Haig, Robert, George and James. Their mother had been nurse to the Queen of Bohemia. All three fell in the war fighting bravely for their fair foster-sister.

In 1630, the Scots whom Colonel Lumsden had in the meantime brought to Germany, the corps of Hargate and Mackay’s Highlanders, were united in one Brigade, bearing henceforward the name of the Green or Hepburn’s Scottish Brigade.’ Mackay’s Highlanders had taken part in the unfortunate struggle of the King of Denmark, who was fighting on the side of the Protestants against the Imperialists. They had distinguished themselves in the siege of Stralsund, so long and so obstinately attacked by Wallenstein, by their energetic labours for the defence of the city, and had then by order of the King retired to Wolgast after the loss of five hundred men, leaving the defence of the great fortress in the hands of the Swedes and of their famous countryman, General Alexander Leslie. Finally, when a separate peace between the Emperor and the King of Denmark had been concluded, they were with ‘abundant thanks and rich rewards’ dismissed by the latter (1629). In the same year their leader Mackay was made Colonel by Gustavus Adolfus. His newly levied Scottish regiment, however, suffered shipwreck off the coast of Rügen Island, on the way to the Swedish army, and Rugen was still held by the Imperialists. The soldiers had saved their lives and their muskets, but they possessed no ammunition. In this plight Colonel Munro succeeded in discovering an old castle, belonging to a Duke of Pommennia and a secret friend of the King of Sweden near the small town of Rugenwalde. For a present of powder and lead he promised him to clear the island of the enemy. A well prepared and executed midnight attack put him in possession of the town. A panic spread among the Imperialists, who had never expected any danger in this direction, and it was not long before the whole island was in the hands of the Scots. They retained it for nine weeks, when Colonel Hepburn came to relieve them, who formed the lairds and peasants of the district into a small army and led it well-armed and well-drilled to the King of Sweden. In the meantime the Highlanders had marched to Schiefelbein, a small fortified place in Brandenburg, in order to obstruct the passage of the Austrians, who were advancing for the relief of Colberg. They were commanded to hold the town as long as possible and to defend the castle or fort to the last man. How well they fulfilled this task an eloquent Latin Ode tells us, printed in front of Munro’s Memoirs and bearing the title: "Schiefelbeinum urbs et arx Marchiae Brandenburgicae a generoso Domino Roberto Munro bene defensae."

The first exploit of the united Scottish Brigade was the taking of the two strong fortresses: Frankfurt-on-the-Oder and Landsberg. During the assault on the former, Hepburn himself was wounded in the leg. Gustavus Adolfus had inflamed the courage of his Scottish troops by reminding them of Tilly’s pillage of New-Brandenburg, where so many of their countrymen, after a stubborn, nine-days’ defence, had fallen victims to the enraged and cruel general.

Hepburn then marched to Leipzig (1631). Sir James Ramsay was in command of the vanguard, and then it was on the 7th of September "after we had in the early morning, as the larke begunne to peep commended ourselbes and the event of the day to God," that the great battle commenced. Whilst the Imperial cavalry scattered the Saxons on the left wing, the Scotch stood firm, firing for the first time in platoons. Hepburn formed a square and, when the Austrians had approached near enough, caused his victorious pikemen to advance. In the meantime Lord Reay’s Highlanders were equally successful. With terror did the Imperialists see them, the ‘right hand of the King’ as they were called, and it was not long before they yielded to their impetuous onslaught. Soon the defeat became a rout. If it had not been for the dust favouring their flight, the loss of the enemy would have been much greater still. "We were not able," says Munro, "by the rising of the dust to see about us, much less discerning the way of our enemies or the rest of our brigades, whereupon, having a drummer by me, I caused him to beat the Scotch march, which recollected our friends unto us."

Gustavus thanked the Green Brigade publicly before the whole army for their splendid services. An enormous booty fell into his hands; but instead of making use of the opportunity of pursuing the wounded General Tilly, he victoriously marched on to Halle. Seeing Hepburn there at a great parade he dismounted and gave his officers a long address praising the courage and the discipline of the Scottish troops. The Swedish generals jumped from their horses and kissed the King’s hand, whilst the soldiers amidst the deafening din of the drums and the lowering of the standards filled the air with shouts of "Vivat Gustavus."

It was on the 11th of September 1631 that Hepburn took possession of the town. On the evening of that day the King, accompanied by all his officers, went to the Ulric Church to thank God for the victory, and there "I heard," says Munro, "the sweetest melodious musicke that could be heard and I also did see the most beautiful women Dutchland could afford."

On the following Monday the Elector of Saxony and other Protestant princes came on a visit. Hepburn was presented to them and received abundance of praise. To his friend Munro the King said jestingly, taking him by the hand: "Munro, I wish you could to-night be our field-marshal of the bottle and the glasses to entertain my guests, but you have not the head for it."

From Halle the army proceeded in two distinct columns across the Thuringian Forest into Franconia, to clear the country of the enemy. At Wurzburg the forces of Hepburn and the King reunited. The town itself surrendered without striking a blow; the keys having been presented to the King in the name of the bishop and the terrified citizens by another Scotsman named Ogilvie, who was a priest in the Scotch Benedictine Monastery. A more difficult task it proved to reduce the strongly fortified Marienberg on the other side of the Main-River. Situated on a rock, and one arch of the bridge over the river being broken, it almost seemed impregnable. Moreover the guns of the fortress swept every approach. But the rumour of the great treasure heaped up in the town, and of the famous cellars with the still more famous wines, excited the soldiers to dare their utmost. Only a single plank stretched from arch to arch some fifty feet above the rapid stream, and yet the Scots, under Sir James Ramsay and Sir John Hamilton, succeeded, partly in boats, partly filing across the bridge in swift succession, to carry the out-works, after which the success of the final attack by the Swedes was assured. Thirty-four cannons, rich treasure in money and in silver and gold vessels from the treasure-house of the Prince and the Churches, many wagon-loads of wine and stores great enough to feed them for many a year, fell into the hands of the Swedes. The nuns of the towns were brought back under military protection. The library of the Jesuits was sent to the Swedish University of Upsala, and rich rewards were given to the chief commanders. Sir James Ramsay received estates in Mecklenburg in acknowledgment of his excellent services and was made Governor of Hanau.

In the meantime the King flushed with success knew no rest. Scarcely had the Imperial troops at Frankfurt-on-the-Maine surrendered and the Scots found out that the wine in that neighbourhood was sweet "and ripe and as abundant as water." when the Spaniards in the Palatinate engaged his attention. The great difficulty was the crossing of the Rhine, especially as the enemy had destroyed and burned every craft they could lay hands on. Count Brahe, however, and Hepburn succeeded at last in finding some small boats, in which they crossed the river; having entrenched themselves in all haste they drove away the Spanish Cuirassiers, who fled partly towards Mainz, partly towards Oppenheim, a strongly fortified place on the Rhine, well defended by a body of brave Italians and Burgundians, "such seasoned old blades as the King of Sweden had not met since the Battle of Leipzig."

Colonel Hepburn received the command to capture the "sconce" that was lying opposite the town on the other side of the river. On the afternoon of the 4th of December, a bitterly cold day, when the country was covered far and wide with a sheet of snow and ice, he was sitting with his friend Munro behind the earth-works enjoying the contents of a jug of country-wine. Suddenly the garrison of Oppenheim, being roused by the light of the watch-fires reflected by the snow, fired a thirty-two pounder across the river, which buried itself quite close to the two friends in Hepburn’s old travelling coach. All night the firing continued. A sortie of two hundred Burgundians was repulsed by the Scots. On the following day the "sconce" surrendered on favourable terms.

Then the King on one side and Hepburn, who had crossed the river on 107 boats sent by Gustavus, on the other, commenced the assault of the castle. But how great was their astonishment, when they met fugitives leaping the walls, throwing away their arms and crying for quarter. There was heard also musketry-fire within. The mystery was soon explained. Colonel Ramsay in his impulsive eagerness had on secret paths penetrated into the castle with only two hundred Scots before the King, and when the latter saw the little band drawn up at the gate to salute him, he addressed them with: "My brave Scots, why have you been too quick for me?"

Encouraged by this victory the King at once marched against Mainz, one of the strongest fortresses in the whole seat of the war. Here also Hepburn was given the most dangerous place in the besieging army. He threw up his parallels not far from the so-called Galgenthor, i.e. gallows gate, and before daybreak he had sufficiently screened himself from the fire of the enemy by gabions eartb-works, etc. Munro gives us a very graphic account of these days. One night the Swedish Colonel Axel Lily had come on a visit. Hepburn and Munro had chosen a spot where the snow had been cleared away and sitting before a large fire, enjoyed what their cooks had been roasting on old ramrods. Every moment there was a flash of light on the dark ramparts of the citadel and the canon balls whizzed over their heads and were lost in the night or fell into the deep Rhine. Then Lily said jestingly, stooping after one of those flashes, "What would they think of me, if anything happened to me here? I have no business here and am exposed to their cannons." Immediately after these words the enemy fired another shot, which, after piercing the defective entrenchment, tore away his leg. Hepburn’s men carried him to a surgeon in a sheltered place and the King showed him every attention. Don Philipp, the commander of Mainz, surrendered unexpectedly on the following morning without waiting for the final assault. Gustavus entered the town in triumph. Eighty cannons and the rich library of the Elector were among his booty. He received moreover 200,000 florins as ransom and 180,000 from the Jews, who thereby purchased the safety of their Synagogue. Hepburn remained in Mainz until the month of March. Later in the year he contributed essentially to the success of the Swedish King before Donauwörth, by occupying a strategically important point, and entering the town by a circuitous route whilst the King assailed it in front. After the capture and when some quiet had been restored, the King sent for the colonel, who had to work his way through streets crowded with fugitives, broken gun-carriages, dead horses and soldiers, till he came to the beautiful house, where Gustavus, Frederik, the King of Bohemia, and other princes were regaling themselves after the labours of the night. The King thanked Hepburn for his faithful services and ascribed the conquest of the town to his advice to circumvent it. After Donauwörth Augsburg was occupied on the 8th of April; Munich on the 7th of May. Hepburn was made governor of it, and it was to his regiments that the King entrusted, much to the disgust of the Swedes, the protection of his person. Munro’s description of the palace is full of interest. Round about it there were beautiful gardens with fish ponds and fountains. One of them represented Perseus with the head of Medusa. In the large park "plentie of hares could be seen"; there were also Tennis Courts in which the kings sometimes "did recreat" themselves. In connection with the palace there were magnificent galleries and a rare library with many precious books. It was here that the two friends Hepburn and Munro walked together recalling to their memories the old University days of Cambridge, or turning up the long neglected Classics. In the arsenal the King found an enormous booty; the so-called "twelve apostles" and many other cannons were found hidden under the floor. In one of them there were discovered 150,000 ducats sewed up in cartridges. Hepburn remained in Munich whilst Gustavus Adolfus took up his quarters at Augsburg and General Ruthven was pursuing the enemy as far as the Lake of Constanz.

In the beginning of June the whole Protestant army was drawn together at Nurnberg to oppose the progress of Wallenstein. With incredible exertions the town was fortified by the King. But where open violence did not succeed, famine and sickness did their work. After a close siege of fifty-eight days on the day of St Bartholomew (Aug. 24th) Gustavus Adolfus, who had tried in vain to drive the Imperial leader out of his strong position by sorties or to starve him by intercepting his provisions, ventured to attack his almost impregnable camp. The fight lasted for ten hours. "Finally when the night came on," Schiller writes in his History of the Thirty Years’ War, "the King anxiously looked for an officer to order a few Swedish regiments which had penetrated too far, to retreat. His eye caught Colonel Hebron, a brave Scotsman, whom his innate courage only had driven out of the camp, to share the dangers of the day. Angry at the King, who not long ago in a perilous military enterprise had preferred a junior officer to him, he had made a rash vow never to draw sword for the King again. To him Gustavus now turned and having praised his heroic courage, he requests him to order the retreat of the regiments. ‘Sire,’ replied the brave officer, ‘that is the only service I cannot refuse Your Majesty, for there is danger in it,’ and he immediately galloped off to deliver his message."

Not long after this meeting the King withdrew in good order to Neustadt, and here Hepburn and Hamilton took their leave of him. The reason adduced by Schiller has not been the only one, that caused the proud Scot to take a step which must have been distasteful to an officer of his merit, but it contributed perhaps to make the cup of discontent flow over. As we have seen above, he could not brook the King’s jest about his religion. He was proudly conscious to have drawn his sword for the Queen of Bohemia, a princess of his own native country. Added hereto was the opinion then common amongst the Scottish officers, that neither the Marquis of Hamilton nor Lieut. Colonel Douglas had been treated by the King with due respect. Be this as it may, a rupture ensued, and Hepburn and the Marquis, together with two other Scottish officers, left the Swedish service. Their remaining countrymen accompanied them about a mile from Neustadt, and when the moment came for these noble heroes to "bid a long good-night to all their loving comrades, the separation was like that which death makes betwixt friends and the soule of man, being sorry that those who had lived so long together in amitie and friendship, also in mutuall dangers should part; fearing we should never meet againe, the splendour of our former mirth was overshadowed with a cloud of grief and sorrow, which dissolved in mutuall tears."’

As to Hepburn this fear should not be realised. He was to meet his old companions in arms again, if only for a short time.

In the meantime the Scottish Brigade had been weakened by the terrible losses, especially before Nurnberg, to such an extent, that the King resolved not to take it on his march to Saxony, but to leave it in quarters in Suabia to recruit their strength. Thus he took leave of his faithful Scots at Donauworth before the whole army. "The King in particular expressed his affection to me," says Munro, "showing he was so grieved to leave us behinde, yet in respect of the long march to Saxony and considering the weakness of both our regiments that were weakened by the toill of warre, and in consideration of that former good service he had ordered musterplaces for us, the best in Schwabland, against his return; and then calling on Palsgraf Christian, to whom he had given command over us recommending us particularly unto him and desired him to give us contentment of the monies that were then resting unto us, the first money was to be received at Augsburg."

"As soone as His Majesty had dined," continues Munro, "with the Queen; going to his coach I took leave of His Majesty in presence of General Baner, Palsgraf Christian and Sir Patrick Ruthven; being the most dolefull parting I ever suffered having been both I and the Regiment with His Majesty on all services of importance since His Majesty’s upbreaking from Stettin till his parting at Donauwörth on the 11th of October 1632.

Hepburn paid a short visit to his native country, using the opportunity of levying another 2000 men for the King. Shortly afterwards he offered his services to the King of France at that time an ally of the Swedes. No sooner had he arrived in Paris than he was made a ‘maréchal de camp‘ and attached to the army of Turenne, who was waging war against the Imperial troops in Alsace. After he had distinguished himself in the siege of La Mothe, he crossed the Rhine in mid-winter and hastened towards Heidelberg in order to succour the small, hard pressed Swedish garrison there. The mountains were covered with snow. The castle, surrounded by wall and moat, had a special interest for him, as Princess Elizabeth Stuart, the wife of the sovereign of the land, had built there in imitation of her old palace at Linlithgow the so-called English Buildings. Scarcely had he reached the town, when he placed himself at the head of his troops and fighting bravely broke the encircling lines of the besiegers, drove them out of the Neckarvalley and made himself master of the famous castle.

Not long afterwards Duke Bernhard of Weimar, then one of the first leaders of the Swedish army, effected a Junction with the troops of Louis XIII, having himself about 4000 horsemen and about 2000 Scottish soldiers, all that had been left of the thirteen regiments in the service of the King of Sweden. With beating of drums, music and loud cries did these Scots salute their old commander, and the last remaining piper of Mackay’s Highlanders played a long, shrill note of welcome on his warlike instrument. Having been incorporated with the Franco-Scottish Guard they now formed the "Regiment d’Hébron," as it was called, one of the best equipped as well as the bravest regiments of the whole of the French army.

It is well known that the campaign of the French troops against the Imperial general Gallas and the Duke of Lorraine finally ended in disaster (1635). The army of La Valette, Bernhard of Weimar and Hepburn covering the rear had to beat a retreat from the Rhine through the hills of Lorraine, closely pressed by the enemy.

During this terrible time Hepburn proved the nobility of his character. He comforted and encouraged those whose energy was about to flag; whilst he at the same time sternly opposed the mutinous. Many wounded soldiers had to be left behind on this terrible flight, falling a prey to the wolves and to the "hyenas of the battlefield."

The end of Hepburn’s career we can only touch upon shortly. It lies outside the scope of our immediate subject and may be read in full elsewhere.

The King of France, Louis XIII, resolved in the spring of 1636, nothing daunted by the terrible legacy of 1635, to carry on the war with renewed vigour. He appointed La Valette again Commander-in-Chief and made Hepburn ‘Maréchal de France.’ But the days of the latter were numbered. The siege of Savernes or Zabern in Alsace was his last exploit. The guns of Duke Bernhard had at last succeeded in making a breach in the walls, and the French and Scottish troops advanced to the final assault. With flying colours over heaps of ruins and exposed to a murderous fire they reached the hilltop. But here the commander of the little fortress, Colonel Mulheim, confronted them with his heavily armed Germans. A last, frightful struggle ensued, during which the plumes of Turenne and Hepburn were seen waving in the thickest melee. Then—after a carnage of three hours—the French had to retreat. Two other attempts to take the place were made, both equally fruitless. At last the three commanders resolved to redouble their efforts and make a last attempt. For this purpose Hepburn was inspecting a breech under the fire of the hostile batteries. His glittering armour gave the enemy a welcome aim; a bullet hit him in the neck, on a spot that his mail did not protect. He fell from his charger and his faithful Scots carried him away. With the thunder of the canons in his ear, his sword by his side and surrounded by his faithful comrades, his face turned towards the setting sun, the gallant warrior breathed his last at the early age of thirty-seven years and before the Marshall’s staff, sent by King Louis, had reached him. His last words expressed a regret, that he was to be buried so far from the lonely church of his native place. His death was the signal for the fourth assault, which led to victory. The dead body, helmet and sword were brought to Toul and deposited in the southern aisle of the magnificent cathedral. Louis XIV erected a monument in honour of the departed, bearing the terse incription: "To the best soldier in Christendom."

In the meantime those Scottish soldiers that had been levied in 1631, consisting of five battalions under Lieutenant-Colonel Robert Stuart, Sir Arthur Forbes, Sir Frederick Hamilton, Col. Munro of Obstell and Col. Robt. Leslie, had been doing good work in the North of Germany under the leadership of the Swedish general Todt. They helped to clear all Mecklenburg of the enemy and to storm many fortresses. But none of their own officers obtained the fame of Hepburn or Munro or Alexander Leslie.

During the second half of the Thirty Years’ War we do not hear so much of Scottish soldiers and their deeds as before. The death of Gustavus Adolfus had robbed it of its military lustre: none of the present leaders on the Protestant side could vie with him as to fame and generalship. Moreover, the Battle of Nördlingen, in which the Protestants were defeated (1634), had decimated, nay, well nigh annihilated the Scots, and their native land was not able continually to replace the lost forces. Finally, the political situation in Scotland most urgently required the presence of officers and soldiers at home where the thundercloud of civil war was threatening and at last broke forth in storm and lightning.

Now and then, however, the report of new levies reaches us. Thus in 1637, when the Captains John Skene, John Kerr, John Finlayson and Lumsden raised several regiments for service in Germany. They were to be transported by sea to Wolgast, a small town and harbour in Pomerania on the Baltic. But fate was against them. From Leith, where part of the troops had taken shipping on board a Lübeck barque called "Falcon,"—Captain Cockburn,—they sailed to Aberdeen there to take in provisions. On the fifth night, however, there arose such a tempest accompanied by a tremendous tidal wave, that the ship was torn from its anchorage, driven into the open sea, and thrown a complete wreck on the neighbouring shore. Many recruits were drowned; others, "that in the danger of death thought themselves released from their oath," deserted. The Magistrates of Aberdeen confirm the sad fact in a long letter to the Queen of Sweden and to the senate of Lübeck.

We get a glimpse in this report of the growing disorganisation of these troops. In time the material became worse and the misery caused by these long-continued forced levies greater. Already ten years earlier the King of Scotland and his Council, in order to meet the demand for Scottish mercenaries on the part of the King of Denmark, Count Mansfeldt and Lord Reay, had to have recourse to extreme measures. The order was given to seize upon all vagabonds of the high road, all incorrigible bankrupts and all vagrants of whatever description. Moreover, the attention of the chiefs of the Highland Clans was drawn by a letter written by the King’s own hand to the fact, that there were many young idlers on their vast estates, who could not do better than to don the uniform. In this remarkable way in the year 1626-27 alone, ten to twelve thousand Scotsmen were sent abroad, in other words, about the twentieth part of the whole male population.

The question what became of all these men is not hard to answer: the majority of them rest unheeded and without stone or cross on the blood-drenched battlefields of Germany; some were fortunate enough to see their native country again and perhaps relate their adventures in foreign countries to a crowd of eager listeners, or possibly to again take up arms for Leslie on the side of the Covenanters or for Montrose and the King. No doubt those of them fared best—speaking relatively— who at once entered the service of Gustavus Adolfus. There they had at any rate a noble pattern, and discipline and regular pay were, if not always accomplished, at least aspired to.

It now remains to us shortly to indicate the fate of some other Scottish officers during the Thirty Years’ War.

Donald Mackay, or Lord Reay as he is usually called, the leader of the Highlanders, returned to Scotland as early as 1632. The premature death of his patron, the King of Sweden, was a terrible blow for him. Of the large sums of money he had spent to pay his recruits, he received nothing back; being thus compelled to sell part of his estates for the payment of his debts. During the Civil Wars, fighting on the side of the King, he was made prisoner. His liberation, as being a Danish officer, was vainly demanded by the King of Denmark. Set free at last by Montrose he retired to Copenhagen and the court of his first sovereign. In Denmark he died, highly honoured, of grief for the execution of Charles I, in 1649. A Danish frigate brought his body in state to Scotland.

Baron Foulis or Fowlis, Colonel Robt. Munro, one of the forty or fifty officers of that name in the army of Gustavus Adolfus, had been wounded in his right foot at the crossing of the Danube in 1632 and carried to Ulm, where Sir Patrick Ruthven was Governor. Here he lived in the house of a barber and surgeon called Michael Rietmuller and died towards the end of April of the same year. By permission of the magistrates he was buried in the Franciscan or "Barfüsserkirche," where also his standard, armour and spurs were hung up. Magister Balthasar Kerner delivered his funeral sermon on the 29th of April.

One of the most interesting men among the Scottish officers of the Thirty Years’ War, a man who reminds one of Wallenstein in his tragical fate, is doubtlessly the above-mentioned General Sir James Ramsay. German poetry and prose have taken hold of him as of a great central figure in the fierce struggle, and the research of the German historian has left us a portrait of him more accurately sketched than that of other Scottish officers. Even the great German Biographical Dictionary has given him a place among its German heroes, and whilst it relates his valorous deeds and sad end in words of praise and pity on the authority of historical documents, legend and tradition have been busy weaving a string of wonderful stories around his unknown grave.

Born of noble race about the year 1589 Ramsay received a good education and university training in Scotland. He seems to have developed early a warlike as well as a poetical spirit. When James VI became King, he accompanied him to England and for some time held some office at the court. In 1630 he entered the army of the King of Sweden under the Duke of Hamilton, known henceforth as the "black" Ramsay to distinguish him from a second Sir James Ramsay called the "fair." In the battle of Breitenfeld he commanded part of the reserve of the first line-of-battle, and during the attack on the Marienberg, the strong citadel of Wurzburg, he received, as we have seen, a shot in his left arm, which disabled him from taking part in the campaign of the following year. After the disastrous battle at Nordlingen in 1634 annihilating, as it did, with one fell stroke all previous advantages gained by the Evangelical armies, he was chosen by Bernhard, the Duke of Weimar then in chief-command, as Governor of the important fortress of Hanau situated on the Main River, a short distance from Frankfurt; and this appointment had been confirmed by Count Philip Moritz of Hanau-Münzenberg, who owned the town and the surrounding district. On the second of October 1634 he entered the fortress, the garrison of which, inclusive of the militia, amounted to about 3000 men. Immediately he set to work to prepare everything that was requisite for a successful and probably long-continued defence of the place. But besides this according to the approved maxim that the greatest strength of the defence consists in the garrison taking the offensive as often as possible, he made a series of skilfully conducted and successful sallies. By these means he not only encouraged the spirit of his troops but solved the problem of bringing in supplies often from a great distance.

In spite of these temporary encouragements the distress in the beleaguered town rose to a terrible height. Together with the scarcity of money and bread the plague or the "Black Death," as it is called in German, appeared and increased during the hot summer months, rendered still more violent by the crowding together of so many fugitives in a narrow space and by the pestiferous exhalations of the stagnant waters in the fosses.

But neither Ramsay nor the citizens who shared his patriotic adherence to the evangelical cause, ever thought of surrender, although the trenches of the Imperial general Lamboy, who was conducting the siege, now completely surrounded the town in a wide circle. On the other hand the Governor, "an astute and excellent schemer," discontinuing his sallies on account of the small number of his troops, commenced a series of sham-negotiations with the enemy. At one time he proposed sending a messenger to the Swedish Chancellor Oxenstierna or to the Duke Bernhard in order to obtain their consent to the surrender of the fortress, a consent which at that time, as he knew well, was not to be thought of; at another time he advanced the still more extraordinary proposition to hand over the town provisionally to the protection of a neutral prince, such as the King of England or the prince of Orange, and when the parties had at last agreed to accept the Landgraf George of Hesse-Darmstadt and the Elector of Mayence as mediators, he managed to protract their deliberations from month to month till they were broken off as useless. After this period of rest the old sallies and punitive expeditions were again resorted to; and the Governor was so "joyful and of good courage" in consequence of the successful issue of the most of them, that he presented General Lamboy, who had sent him the scornful gift of two fat pigs, with fifty pounds of carp, caught in the moats, in return; adding for the fun of it ("aus Kurtzweil ") the mocking request to "send him some news, especially as to the rumour current in his part, of the town of Hanau being besieged."

In the meantime Lamboy had received reinforcements so that his forces now numbered 4000 to 5000 men. His soldiers grew daily more insolent, his officers already divided the best quarters of the doomed town amongst themselves, whilst within the fortress the situation became daily more serious. Without the iron rule of Ramsay, combined with his skill and his strict justice, which was acknowledged by all; without the equally great self-sacrifice of the magistrates, a further defence would no longer have been possible. As it was, the strictest measures were adopted and most conscientiously carried out, which appeared necessary. Against threatening mutiny the utmost severity was shown; orders against the waste of powder and shot were issued; the ammunition of the Scottish company, which formed an unshaken and always reliable body-guard of the Governor, was doubled. Ramsay further regulated with extraordinary care the supply of food-stuffs; all public-houses were closed except one, where, under the supervision of the military, twice a week a certain small quantity of wine was being sold. In spite of all these measures, however, a terrible time of misery commenced in the beleaguered town in the spring of 1636. People ate horse and dogs’ flesh; and a contemporary chronicler relates that "cats were esteemed venison." It was no rare occurrence that the flesh of dead men and beasts was bought or stolen from the executioner. Mortality had increased at a fearful rate: the garrison being reduced to only 400 or 500 men. Only for a few weeks longer was resistance possible. Hanau’s deliverance is due to two causes; the inexplicable delay of General Lamboy in proceeding to the assault; and in the final resolution of Landgraf William V of Hesse-Kassel not to consider himself bound any longer by the existing truce, but to hasten to the assistance of the distressed fortress. He was urged to adopt this course by his wife, a high-minded and noble lady and a native of Hanau. On the 22nd of June he joined his forces with those of the Swedish Field-marshal Alexander Leslie. Ramsay, who maintained an excellent service of scouts, had received the welcome news of the approach of his friends. Losing no time he gave fire-signals from the top of the castle-tower and fired his guns at frequent intervals. Early on the 23rd the attack on the strong position of the Imperial general commenced, and it was not long before the enemy was completely routed. Landgraf William and Leslie entered the town amid the ringing of bells and the joyful shouts of the populace; six hundred waggon loads of provisions and herds of cattle for slaughtering accompanied them. After a solemn thanksgiving service the prince at once visited Ramsay, the brave defender, in his quarters to consult about further military measures.

The following time of rest the Governor, whose power also extended over the fortified places of the surrounding district, employed in the most effectual manner. First of all he increased his garrison, and having succeeded in doing this he again undertook frequent and far extending punitive incursions to the terror of his enemies. Travellers who showed themselves in the territory of Hanau had to produce "Ramsay-passports"; this order extended to the merchants from Cologne and Holland, who desired to visit the great Fair of Frankfurt. In short, the whole country was seized with a "Ramsay-terror."’

But there was more work cut out for the restless General. Cries of help had reached him from the garrison of Hermanstein or Ehrenbreitstein on the Rhine, as it is now called, which was then besieged by the Imperialists. He therefore undertook the difficult and, considering the straitened circumstances he himself was placed in, splendidly generous task of revictualling the fortress by way of the river. The bold enterprise succeeded the first time, but on being repeated a second time the ship fell into the hands of the more watchful and suspicious enemy.

Ramsay seems even to have considered the plan of reconquering the Palatinate for the unfortunate nephew of Charles I. Already in 1634 he had received the visit of Sir George Douglas, the English ambassador to Poland, and it is possible that already at that time he offered his services. This offer he now, at a more favourable juncture, repeated, if 6000 men were placed at his disposal. But England hesitated, and the proper moment was lost for ever.

Moreover, the Imperial troops again commenced— in the beginning of July—to attract his earnest attention. After the final fall of Ehrenbreitstein the besieging forces of General von Werth had become free and were marching in the direction of Hanau. Ramsay, who knew that a second siege, owing to the superior power of the enemy and the scarcity of food would be disastrous, communicated with the Elector of Mayence, the Landraf of Hesse-Darmstadt and the city of Frankfurt with a view to an honourable treaty. After a great many subterfuges on the part of the allies, this treaty was finally signed by all parties. It contained as chief-paragraphs the complete pardon of Count Philip Moritz, a free pass for Ramsay to the Swedes, the payment to him of 150,000 marks, the cession of the Mecklenburg estates that had been given to him by Gustavus Adolfus or suitable compensation, and the placing of Imperial hostages in the hands of the Swedes till all the conditions were fulfilled. From the first, however, it became clear to the penetrating mind of Ramsay, that there were not only great omissions in the treaty, but that the allies could and would not fulfil their promises. In spite of this or, shall we say, just because of this, he appended his signature to the document and the Imperial ratification was not long in following. Philip Moritz, the fugitive, was asked speedily to return to his country and Ramsay requested to give up Hanau at once. This, however, he was not prepared to do, as long as the conditions of the treaty remained unfulfilled and no mention was made of money or estates or hostages. Then followed a long time of a wearisome war of the pen; a time of proposals and counter-proposals, of allegations, irony, craft and cunning. Ramsay himself wrote several times in terms, that did want neither clearness nor bitterness. The negotiations nevertheless were continued till February 1638. At that time the wily General succeeded in procuring the original of the Imperial ratification and in establishing the astounding fact, that the text of the treaty, as concluded at Mayence on the 31st of Aug. 1637, and that of the document signed by the emperor on Sept. 14th did not agree. Immediately he had his secretary draw up a collateral copy of the documents in question and sent a calm and dignified letter to the allies, in which be pointed out the contradictions. But before there could be an answer to this startling communication the doom of our hero had been sealed. Philip Moritz, who seemed to have no other thought now than to get rid of the troublesome Swedes and their general and to embrace the cause of the emperor without reserve, returned to his capital in spite of Ramsay’s remonstrances and before the negotiations had been concluded. All his obligations towards Sweden, all his gratitude towards the man, who by his bravery and perseverance had saved his sovereignty, were forgotten. Openly and secretly he urged the removal of Ramsay. The Hessian Regiment, which formed part of the garrison, was recalled. Ramsay replied by sending letters to his countryman, General King, then commanding Swedish troops in the neighbourhood of the Weser, in which he asked for reinforcements. He also sent urgent messages into Franconia for the supply of provisions. But all these plans were rendered futile by Philip, who on his part despatched other forged letters countermanding the request of additional troops and supplies.

No wonder that the Governor saw himself compelled to adopt stringent measures. He ordered the castle, which is at the same time the citadel of Hanau, to be occupied by his soldiers and the intercourse of the Count with the outside world to be restricted. Not even the Countess was allowed to confer with her husband. And yet violence and treason succeeded in outwitting Ramsay. A certain Major Winter, jointly with the Imperial General Graf Ludwig Heinrich of Nassau-Dillenburg, offered to seize the fortress on condition that, being successful, he should receive the 150,000 marks deposited for Ramsay. Out of his own means he had levied about 200 men for this purpose, Mayence contributed another 200, the Count of Dillenburg 300. With the greatest secrecy everything was prepared by means of bribed messengers to and from Philip Moritz; false keys for the gates were manufactured and certain signals agreed upon. On the 22nd of February, at the dawn of morning, this force succeeded in occupying the Altstadt, old town of Hanau, of surprising Rainsay’s weak garrison and of getting possession of the castle. On the following day the count sent a flag of truce to the Governor asking him to surrender, a demand which was at once indignantly refused. Then the fire was opened upon the New-town, during which Ramsay, according to one report in the defence of his house, where he and seventy of his soldiers had barricaded themselves; according to others whilst walking up and down in front of the "White Lion," his headquarters, and giving orders, was struck by a bullet in his back penetrating as far as the hip. He now felt that the further shedding of blood was useless; a drummer was sent to the Count "to ask for quarters for the General and his soldiers, as he had been badly wounded," to which the request was added that the treaty of Mayence should be observed. Ramsay was then hastily dressed and brought to the Guard-Room. Later on, when his wound seemed to admit of his removal, he was carried to the Castle of DilIenburg. Here his treatment was at first friendly and considerate. He was given a cheerful room; he was allowed to have his secretary Dr Henckel with him. The Count, who could not but admire his brave conduct, invited him to his table at dinner and supper-time. He was able to receive visitors, amongst them the most learned men of the neighbourhood and members of noble families. He frequently went to the "Schlosskirche" (chapel), where service was being held in the reformed persuasion, and partook of the sacrament. In short he proved a sort of imprisoned lion, but a lion, whom they had not ceased to fear. Especially at Vienna great spite and great fear were shown towards the prisoner. They tried by force and favour to extort all manner of secrets from him, amongst others, how he got in possession of the original treaty; what did he mean by saying he had a spiritus familiaris; what were the Swedish plans of war? To all these questions the prisoner replied calmly and deliberately, that he was not a common culprit and not subject to the Holy Roman Empire, but a prisoner-of-war and subject to the Crown of Sweden, which he had always served faithfully. It was not his fault that the treaty had been broken; the two texts of it had been revealed to his councillor and secretary Dr Hasman by two Imperial Commissaries. As to his spiritus familiaris, it consisted in this, that he knew how to put ducats upon ducats and Rosenoble upon Rosenoble so as to procure good scouts. To the insinuation of delivering up military papers he replied curtly, "that it was against the rule of the service and the fidelity of an officer, to give the enemy any information of his sovereign’s military plans."

Disappointed in their attempts, the Court at Vienna had recourse to violent measures. Ramsay’s secretary was seized, carried to the capital and there put to the rack, under the tortures of which he "gave up his ghost." The Count of Dillenburg, who was willing to liberate the prisoner on receipt of a high ransom offered by him, and thus to have at least "some feathers of the bird before he let him escape," received stringent orders under no circumstances to set free one that had proved an inveterate enemy to the Empire. Ramsay then tried to enlist the sympathy of the King of France, now an ally of the Evangelical party; of the Queen of Sweden and of England: but all in vain. The old faithful servant had been forgotten; only death could now deliver him. "Easy it would have been for him indeed," says Wille, "to gain his liberty at once at the expense of his honour; but Ramsays fidelity and obedience to duty repudiated and scornfully withstood the temptation and the suggestion to earn the vile reward of treachery."

To complete the tragic flute of the prisoner it so happened, that the good and friendly relations hitherto existing between him and the Count latterly became strained. There were scenes of violent reproaches and recriminations, rising from very slight causes and, no doubt, mainly attributable to the irritable and gloomy temper of the sufferer. The Cowit even allowed himself to be carried away so far by his anger that he ordered the General to be cast in irons, placed a strong guard in his room and limited his food to bread and water. Only after the lapse of several days the chains were removed, chiefly owing to the merciful interference of Count Ernst of Wittgenstein. But the hardest blow for the prisoner was the communication, withheld some time, of the Imperial order forbidding his liberation. "Now all my hopes are buried for ever," cried the unfortunate man, and abandoned himself to gloom and despair. His condition became worse every day in spite of the good-natured administrations of the Countess, and the skill—such as it was in those days—of four doctors in attendance. On the 21st of April he drew up his will, but only on the 29th of June 1639 did death put an end to his cruel sufferings. The Swedish Commander-in-Chief and Lady Isabella Ramsay, the widow of the deceased, then living at St Andrews, were at once informed of the sad event. But his body was finally buried on August 18, 1650, in the town church of Dillenburg, the lady mentioned, "for want of means," not having taken any steps to have his remains brought to the land of his birth.

"Thus ended the life of James Ramsay, the immortal defender of Hanau, rich in friends and admirers when fortunate, in misfortune abandoned by all and rewarded with the most cruel ingratitude by the prince who, to him alone, owed the continuance of his sovereignty."

Unlike many of his former companions-in-arms, who from motives of selfishness or dissatisfied ambition deserted their colours, he had in sufferings and imprisonment, in danger and death, kept the oath of allegiance to his queen unshaken and in spite of temptations. But his sad end between prison-walls was none the less honourable and worthy of a brave officer, than the natural death of a soldier amidst the roar of the battle, which he had listened to so often. Honour be to his memory!