"We also, madam," he said, "we, your
Grace's devoted followers, have friends and relatives to weep for. I
leave a brother in imminent jeopardy--the husband of the Lady
Fleming--the father and brothers of the Lady Catherine, are all in
yonder bloody field, slain, it is to be feared, or prisoners. We
forget the fate of our nearest and dearest, to wait on our Queen, and
she is too much occupied with her own sorrows to give one thought to
ours."
"I deserve not your reproach, father," said the Queen, checking her
tears; "but I am docile to it--where must we go--what must we do?"
"We must fly, and that instantly," said the Abbot; "whither is not so
easily answered, but we may dispute it upon the road--Lift her to her
saddle, and set forward."
[Footnote: I am informed in the most polite manner, by D. MacVean,
Esq. of Glasgow, that I have been incorrect in my locality, in giving
an account of the battle of Langside. Crookstone Castle, he observes,
lies four miles west from the field of battle, and rather in the rear
of Murray's army. The real place from which Mary saw the rout of her
last army, was Cathcart Castle, which, being a mile and a half east
from Langside, was, situated in the rear of the Queen's own army. I
was led astray in the present case, by the authority of my deceased
friend, James Grahame the excellent and amiable author of the Sabbath,
in his drama on the subject of Queen Mary; and by a traditionary
report of Mary having seen the battle from the Castle of Crookstone,
which seemed so much to increase the interest of the scene, that I
have been unwilling to make, in this particular instance, the fiction
give way to the fact, which last is undoubtedly in favour of Mr.
Pages:
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639