It is very much to be regretted that no competent person has as yet
undertaken the task of compiling a full and authentic biography of Lord
Viscount Dundee. His memory has consequently been left at the mercy of
misrepresentation and malignity; and the pen of romance has been freely
employed to portray, as a bloody assassin, one of the most accomplished
men and gallant soldiers of his age.
It was the misfortune of Claverhouse to have lived in so troublous an
age and country. The religious differences of Scotland were then at
their greatest height, and there is hardly any act of atrocity and
rebellion which had not been committed by the insurgents. The royal
authority was openly and publicly disowned in the western districts: the
Archbishop of St. Andrew's, after more than one hairbreadth escape, was
waylaid, and barbarously murdered by an armed gang of fanatics on Magus
Muir; and his daughter was wounded and maltreated while interceding for
the old man's life. The country was infested by banditti, who took every
possible opportunity of shooting down and massacring any of the
straggling soldiery: the clergy were attacked and driven from their
houses; so that, throughout a considerable portion of Scotland, there
was no security either for property or for life. It is now the fashion
to praise and magnify the Covenanters as the most innocent and
persecuted of men; but those who are so ready with their sympathy,
rarely take the pains to satisfy themselves, by reference to the annals
of the time, of the true character of those men whom they blindly
venerate as martyrs. They forget, in their zeal for religious freedom,
that even the purest and holiest of causes may be sullied and disgraced
by the deeds of its upholders, and that a wild and frantic profession of
faith is not always a test of genuine piety. It is not in the slightest
degree necessary to discuss whether the royal prerogative was at that
time arbitrarily used, or whether the religious freedom of the nation
was unduly curtailed. Both points may be, and indeed are, admitted,--for
it is impossible to vindicate the policy of the measures adopted by the
two last monarchs of the house of Stuart; but neither admission will
clear the Covenanters from the stain of deliberate cruelty.
After the battle of Philiphaugh, the royalist prisoners were butchered
in cold blood, under the superintendence of a clerical emissary, who
stood by rubbing his hands, and exclaiming--"The wark gangs bonnily on!"
Were I to transcribe from the pamphlets before me the list of the
murders which were perpetrated by the country people on the soldiery,
officers, and gentlemen of loyal principles, during the reign of Charles
II., I believe that no candid person would be surprised at the severe
retaliation which was made. It must be remembered that the country was
then under military law, and that the strongest orders had been issued
by the Government to the officers in command of the troops, to use every
means in their power for the effectual repression of the disturbances.
The necessity of such orders will become apparent, when we reflect that,
besides the open actions at Aird's Moss and Drumclog, the city of
Glasgow was attacked, and the royal forces compelled for a time to fall
back upon Stirling.
Under such circumstances it is no wonder if the soldiery were severe in
their reprisals. Innocent blood may no doubt have been shed, and in some
cases even wantonly; for when rebellion has grown into civil war, and
the ordinary course of the law is put in abeyance, it is always
impossible to restrain military license. But it is most unfair to lay
the whole odium of such acts upon those who were in command, and to
dishonour the fair name of gentlemen, by attributing to them personally
the commission of deeds of which they were absolutely ignorant. To this
day the peasantry of the western districts of Scotland entertain the
idea that Claverhouse was a sort of fiend in human shape, tall,
muscular, and hideous in aspect, secured by infernal spells from the
chance of perishing by any ordinary weapon, and mounted upon a huge
black horse, the especial gift of Beelzebub! On this charger it is
supposed that he could ride up precipices as easily as he could traverse
the level ground--that he was constantly accompanied by a body of
desperadoes, vulgarly known by such euphonious titles as "Hell's Tam,"
and "the De'il's Jock," and that his whole time was occupied, day and
night, in hunting Covenanters upon the hills! Almost every rebel who was
taken in arms and shot, is supposed to have met his death from the
individual pistol of Claverhouse; and the tales which, from time to
time, have been written by such ingenious persons as the late Mr. Gait
and the Ettrick Shepherd have quietly been assumed as facts, and added
to the store of our traditionary knowledge. It is in vain to hint that
the chief commanders of the forces in Scotland could have found little
leisure, even had they possessed the taste, for pursuing single
insurgents. Such suggestions are an insult to martyrology; and many a
parish of the west would be indignant were it averred that the tenant of
its gray stone had suffered by a meaner hand.
When we look at the portrait of Claverhouse, and survey the calm,
melancholy, and beautiful features of the devoted soldier, it appears
almost incredible that he should ever have suffered under such an
overwhelming load of misrepresentation. But when--discarding modern
historians, who in too many instances do not seem to entertain the
slightest scruple in dealing with the memory of the dead--we turn to the
writings of his contemporaries who knew the man, his character appears
in a very different light. They describe him as one who was stainless in
his honour, pure in his faith, wise in council, resolute in action, and
utterly free from that selfishness which disgraced the Scottish
statesmen of the time. No one dares question his loyalty, for he sealed
that confession with his blood; and it is universally admitted, that
with him fell the last hopes of the reinstatement of the house of
Stuart.
I may perhaps be permitted here, in the absence of a better chronicler,
to mention a few particulars of his life, which, I believe, are
comparatively unknown. John Graham of Claverhouse was a cadet of the
family of Fintrie, connected by intermarriage with the blood-royal of
Scotland. After completing his studies at the University of St.
Andrew's, he entered, as was the national custom for gentlemen of good
birth and limited means, into foreign service, served some time in
France as a volunteer, and afterwards went to Holland. He very soon
received a commission, as a cornet in a regiment of horse-guards, from
the Prince of Orange, nephew of Charles II. and James VII., and who
afterwards married the Princess Mary. His manner at that time is thus
described:--"He was then ane esquire, under the title of John Graham of
Claverhouse; but the vivacity of his parts, and the delicacy and justice
of his understanding and judgment, joyned with a certain vigour of mind
and activity of body, distinguished him in such a manner from all others
of his rank, that though he lived in a superior character, yet he
acquired the love and esteem of all his equals, as well as of those who
had the advantage of him in dignity and estate."
By one of those singular accidents which we occasionally meet with in
history, Graham, afterwards destined to become his most formidable
opponent, saved the life of the Prince of Orange at the battle of St.
Neff. The Prince's horse had been killed, and he himself was in the
grasp of the enemy, when the young cornet rode to his rescue, freed him
from his assailants, and mounted him on his own steed. For this service
he received a captain's commission, and the promise of the first
regiment that should fall vacant.
But even in early life William of Orange was not famous for keeping his
promises. Some years afterwards, a vacancy in one of the Scottish
regiments in the Prince's service occurred, and Claverhouse, relying
upon the previous assurance, preferred his claim. It was disregarded,
and Mr. Collier, afterwards Earl of Portmore, was appointed over his
head. It would seem that Graham had suspected some foul play on the
part of this gentleman, for, shortly after, they accidentally met and
had an angry altercation. This circumstance having come to the ears of
the Prince, he sent for Captain Graham, and administered a sharp rebuke.
I give the remainder of this incident in the words of the old writer,
because it must be considered a very remarkable one, as illustrating the
fiery spirit and dauntless independence of Claverhouse.
"The Captain answered, that he was indeed in the wrong, since it was
more his Highness's business to have resented that quarrel than his;
because Mr. Collier had less injured him in disappointing him of the
regiment, than he had done his Highness in making him break his word.
'Then,' replied the Prince in an angry tone, 'I make you full
reparation, for I bestow on you what is more valuable than a regiment
when I give you your right arm!' The Captain subjoined, that since his
Highness had the goodness to give him his liberty, he resolved to employ
himself elsewhere, for he would not longer serve a Prince that had
broken his word.
"The Captain, having thus thrown up his commission, was preparing in
haste for his voyage, when a messenger arrived from the Prince, with two
hundred guineas for the horse on which he had saved his life. The
Captain sent the horse, but ordered the gold to be distributed among the
grooms of the Prince's stables. It is said, however, that his Highness
had the generosity to write to the King and the Duke, recommending him
as a fine gentleman and a brave officer, fit for any office, civil or
military."
On his arrival in Britain he was well received by the court, and
immediately appointed to a high military command in Scotland. It would
be beyond the scope of the present paper to enter minutely into the
details of his service during the stormy period when Scotland was
certainly misgoverned, and when there was little unity, but much
disorder in the land. In whatever point of view we regard the history of
those times, the aspect is a mournful one indeed. Church and State never
was a popular cry in Scotland, and the peculiar religious tendencies
which had been exhibited by a large portion of the nation, at the time
of the Reformation, rendered the return of tranquillity hopeless until
the hierarchy was displaced, and a humbler form of church government,
more suited to the feelings of the people, substituted in its stead.
Three years after the accession of James VII. Claverhouse was raised to
the peerage, by the title of Lord Viscount Dundee. He was major-general,
and second in command of the royal forces, when the Prince of Orange
landed, and earnestly entreated King James to be allowed to march
against him, offering to stake his head on the successful result of the
enterprize. There is little doubt, from the great popularity of Lord
Dundee with the army, that, had such consent been given, William would
have found more than a match in his old officer; but the King seemed
absolutely infatuated, and refused to allow a drop of blood to be shed
in his quarrel, though the great bulk of the population of England were
clearly and enthusiastically in his favour. One of the most gifted of
our modern poets, the Honourable George Sydney Smythe, has beautifully
illustrated this event.
"Then out spake gallant Claverhouse, and his soul thrilled wild and high,
And he showed the King his subjects, and he prayed him not to fly.
O never yet was captain so dauntless as Dundee!
He has sworn to chase the Hollander back to his Zuyder-Zee."
But though James quitted his kingdom, the stern loyalty of Dundee was
nothing moved. Alone, and without escort, he traversed England, and
presented himself at the Convention of Estates, then assembled at
Edinburgh for the purpose of receiving the message from the Prince of
Orange. The meeting was a very strange one. Many of the nobility and
former members of the Scottish Parliament absolutely declined attending
it, some on the ground that it was not a legal assembly, having been
summoned by the Prince of Orange, and others because, in such a total
disruption of order, they judged it safest to abstain from taking any
prominent part. This gave an immense ascendency to the Revolution party,
who further proceeded to strengthen their position by inviting to
Edinburgh large bodies of the armed population of the west. After
defending for several days the cause of his master with as much
eloquence as vigour, Dundee, finding that the majority of the Convention
were resolved to offer the crown of Scotland to the Prince, and having
moreover received sure information that some of the wild fanatic Whigs,
with Daniel Ker of Kersland at their head, had formed a plot for his
assassination, quitted Edinburgh with about fifty horsemen, and, after a
short interview--celebrated by Sir Walter Scott in one of his grandest
ballads--with the Duke of Gordon at the Castle Rock, directed his steps
towards the north. After a short stay at his house of Duddope, during
which he received, by order of the Council, who were thoroughly alarmed
at his absence, a summons through a Lyon herald to return to Edinburgh
under pain of high treason, he passed into the Gordon country, where he
was joined by the Earl of Dunfermline with a small party of about sixty
horse. His retreat was timeous, for General Mackay, who commanded for
the Prince of Orange, had despatched a strong force, with instructions
to make him prisoner. From this time, until the day of his death, he
allowed himself no repose. Imitating the example, and inheriting the
enthusiasm of his great predecessor Montrose, he invoked the loyalty of
the clans to assist him in the struggle for legitimacy--and he did not
appeal to them in vain. His name was a spell to rouse the ardent spirits
of the mountaineers; and not the Great Marquis himself, in the height of
his renown, was more sincerely welcomed and more fondly loved than "Ian
dhu nan Cath,"--Dark John of the Battles,--the name by which Lord Dundee
is still remembered in Highland song. In the mean time the Convention,
terrified at their danger, and dreading a Highland inroad, had
despatched Mackay, a military officer of great experience, with a
considerable body of troops, to quell the threatened insurrection. He
was encountered by Dundee, and compelled to evacuate the high country
and fall back upon the Lowlands, where he subsequently received
reinforcements, and again marched northward. The Highland host was
assembled at Blair, though not in great force, when the news of Mackay's
advance arrived; and a council of the chiefs and officers was summoned,
to determine whether it would be most advisable to fall back upon the
glens and wild fastnesses of the Highlands, or to meet the enemy at
once, though with a force far inferior to his.
Most of the old officers, who had been trained in the foreign wars, were
of the former opinion--"alleging that it was neither prudent nor
cautious to risk an engagement against an army of disciplined men, that
exceeded theirs in numbers by more than a half." But both Glengarry and
Locheill, to the great satisfaction of the General, maintained the
contrary view, and argued that neither hunger nor fatigue were so likely
to depress the Highlanders, as a retreat when the enemy was in view. The
account of the discussion is so interesting, and so characteristic of
Dundee, that I shall take leave to quote its termination in the words of
Drummond of Balhaldy:
"An advice so hardy and resolute could not miss to please the generous
Dundee. His looks seemed to heighten with an air of delight and
satisfaction all the while Locheill was speaking. He told his council
that they had heard his sentiments from the mouth of a person who had
formed his judgment upon infallible proofs drawn from a long experience,
and an intimate acquaintance with the persons and subject he spoke of.
Not one in the company offering to contradict their general, it was
unanimously agreed to fight.
"When the news of this vigorous resolution spread through the army,
nothing was heard but acclamations of joy, which exceedingly pleased
their gallant general; but before the council broke up, Locheill begged
to be heard for a few words. 'My Lord' said he, 'I have just now
declared, in the presence of this honourable company, that I was
resolved to give an implicit obedience to all your Lordship's commands;
but I humbly beg leave, in name of these gentlemen, to give the word of
command for this one time. It is the voice of your council, and their
orders are, that you do not engage personally. Your Lordship's business
is to have an eye on all parts, and to issue out your commands as you
shall think proper; it is ours to execute them with promptitude and
courage. On your Lordship depends the fate, not only of this little
brave army, but also of our king and country. If your Lordship deny us
this reasonable demand, for my own part I declare, that neither I, nor
any I am concerned in, shall draw a sword on this important occasion,
whatever construction shall be put upon the matter.'
"Locheill was seconded in this by the whole council; but Dundee begged
leave to be heard in his turn. 'Gentlemen,' said he, 'as I am absolutely
convinced, and have had repeated proofs, of your zeal for the king's
service, and of your affection to me as his general and your friend, so
I am fully sensible that my engaging personally this day may be of some
loss if I shall chance to be killed. But I beg leave of you, however, to
allow me to give one _shear-darg_ (that is, one harvest-day's work) to
the king, my master, that I may have an opportunity of convincing the
brave clans, that I can hazard my life in that service as freely as the
meanest of them. Ye know their temper, gentlemen; and if they do not
think I have personal courage enough, they will not esteem me hereafter,
nor obey my commands with cheerfulness. Allow me this single favour, and
I here promise, upon my honour, never again to risk my person while I
have that of commanding you.'
"The council, finding him inflexible, broke up, and the army marched
directly towards the Pass of Killiecrankie."
Those who have visited that romantic spot need not be reminded of its
peculiar features, for these, once seen, must dwell for ever in the
memory. The lower part of the Pass is a stupendous mountain-chasm,
scooped out by the waters of the Garry, which here descend in a
succession of roaring cataracts and pools. The old road, which ran
almost parallel to the river and close upon its edge, was extremely
narrow, and wound its way beneath a wall of enormous crags, surmounted
by a natural forest of birch, oak, and pine. An army cooped up in that
gloomy ravine would have as little chance of escape from the onset of an
enterprising partisan corps, as had the Bavarian troops when attacked by
the Tyrolese in the steep defiles of the Inn. General Mackay, however,
had made his arrangements with consummate tact and skill, and had
calculated his time so well, that he was enabled to clear the Pass
before the Highlanders could reach it from the other side. Advancing
upwards, the passage becomes gradually broader, until, just below the
House of Urrard, there is a considerable width of meadow-land. It was
here that Mackay took up his position, and arrayed his troops, on
observing that the heights above were occupied by the army of Dundee.
The forces of the latter scarcely amounted to one-third of those of his
antagonist, which were drawn up in line without any reserve. He was
therefore compelled, in making his dispositions, to leave considerable
gaps in his own line, which gave Mackay a further advantage. The right
of Dundee's army was formed of the M'Lean, Glengarry, and Clanranald
regiments, along with some Irish levies. In the centre was Dundee
himself, at the head of a small and ill-equipped body of cavalry,
composed of Lowland gentlemen and their followers, and about forty of
his old troopers. The Camerons and Skyemen, under the command of
Locheill and Sir Donald Macdonald of Sleat, were stationed on the left.
During the time occupied by these dispositions, a brisk cannonade was
opened by Mackay's artillery, which materially increased the impatience
of the Highlanders to come to close quarters. At last the word was given
to advance, and the whole line rushed forward with the terrific
impetuosity peculiar to a charge of the clans. They received the fire of
the regular troops without flinching, reserved their own until they were
close at hand, poured in a murderous volley, and then, throwing away
their firelocks, attacked the enemy with the broadsword.
The victory was almost instantaneous, but it was bought at a terrible
price. Through some mistake or misunderstanding, a portion of the
cavalry, instead of following their general, who had charged directly
for the guns, executed a manoeuvre which threw them into disorder; and,
when last seen in the battle, Dundee, accompanied only by the Earl of
Dunfermline and about sixteen gentlemen, was entering into the cloud of
smoke, standing up in his stirrups, and waving to the others to come
on. It was in this attitude that he appears to have received his
death-wound. On returning from the pursuit, the Highlanders found him
dying on the field.
It would he difficult to point out another instance in which the
maintenance of a great cause depended solely upon the life of a single
man. Whilst Dundee survived, Scotland at least was not lost to the
Stuarts, for, shortly before the battle, he had received assurance that
the greater part of the organised troops in the north were devoted to
his person, and ready to join him; and the victory of Killiecrankie
would have been followed by a general rising of the loyal gentlemen in
the Lowlands. But with his fall the enterprise was over.
I hope I shall not be accused of exaggerating the importance of this
battle, which, according to the writer I have already quoted, was best
proved by the consternation into which the opposite party were thrown at
the first news of Mackay's defeat. "The Duke of Hamilton, commissioner
for the parliament which then sat at Edinburgh, and the rest of the
ministry, were struck with such a panic, that some of them were for
retiring into England, others into the western shires of Scotland, where
all the people, almost to a man, befriended them; nor knew they whether
to abandon the government, or to stay a few days until they saw what use
my Lord Dundee would make of his victory. They knew the rapidity of his
motions, and were convinced that he would allow them no time to
deliberate. On this account it was debated, whether such of the nobility
and gentry as were confined for adhering to their old master, should be
immediately set at liberty or more closely shut up; and though the last
was determined on, yet the greatest revolutionists among them made
private and frequent visits to these prisoners, excusing what was past,
from a fatal necessity of the times, which obliged them to give a
seeming compliance, but protesting that they always wished well to King
James, as they should soon have occasion to show when my Lord Dundee
advanced."
"The next morning after the battle," says Drummond, "the Highland army
had more the air of the shattered remains of broken troops than of
conquerors; for here it was literally true that
'The vanquished triumphed, and the victors mourned.'
The death of their brave general, and the loss of so many of their
friends, were inexhaustible fountains of grief and sorrow. They closed
the last scene of this mournful tragedy in obsequies of their lamented
general, and of the other gentlemen who fell with him, and interred them
in the church of Blair of Atholl with a real funeral solemnity, there
not being present one single person who did not participate in the
general affliction."
I close this notice of a great soldier and devoted loyalist, by
transcribing the beautiful epitaph composed by Dr. Pitcairn:--
"Ultime Scotorum! potuit, quo sospite solo,
Libertas patriæ salva fuisse tuæ:
Te moriente, novos accepit Scotia cives,
Accepitque novos, te moriente, deos.
Illa nequit superesse tibi, tu non potes illi,
Ergo Caledoniæ nomen inane, vale.
Tuque vale, gentis priscæ fortissime ductor,
Ultime Scotorum, ac ultime Grame, vale!"