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English Worthies
Edited by Andrew Lang
CLAVERHOUSE
by
MOWBRAY MORRIS
New York
D. Appleton and Company
1887
A LIST OF AUTHORITIES FOR THE LIFE OF CLAVERHOUSE.
"An Account of the Proceedings of the Estates in Scotland:" London,
1689.
Balcarres' "Memoirs touching the Revolution in Scotland:" printed for
the Bannatyne Club, 1841.
Browne's "History of the Highlands and the Highland Clans:" 2nd ed.,
1845.
Burnet's "History of My Own Time," ed. 1809.
Burt's "Letters from the North of Scotland," ed. 1818.
Burton's "History of Scotland," 2nd ed.
Cannon's "Historical Records of the British Army."
"Memoirs of Captain John Creichton:" Scott's edition of Swift's Works,
vol. xii. ed. 1883.
"Memoirs of Sir Ewan Cameron of Lochiel:" printed for the Abbotsford
Club, 1842.
Chambers's "History of the Rebellions in Scotland:" Constable's
Miscellany, vol. xlii.
"The Cloud of Witnesses," 1714.
Dalrymple's "Memoirs of Great Britain and Ireland," 2nd ed., 1771.
Defoe's "Memoirs of the Church of Scotland," 1714.
"Memoirs of the Lord Viscount Dundee," &c., 1714.
"Letters of the Viscount of Dundee, with Illustrative Documents:"
printed for the Bannatyne Club, 1826.
Lt.-Colonel Fergusson's "Laird of Lag," 1886.
Fountainhall's "Historical Notices of Scottish Affairs:" printed for the
Bannatyne Club, 1848.
Howie's "Heroes for the Faith, or Lives of the Scots Worthies," edited
by William McGavin, ed. 1883.
Kirkton's "True History of the Church of Scotland from the Restoration
to the year 1678," edited by C.K. Sharpe, 1817. This edition includes
Russell's account of the murder of Archbishop Sharp and of the affairs
at Drumclog and Glasgow.
"The Lauderdale Papers:" printed for the Camden Society, 1884-5.
"The Leven and Melville Papers:" printed for the Bannatyne Club, 1843.
"The Lives of the Lindsays," 2nd ed., 1858.
Macpherson's "Original Papers," 1775.
Macaulay's "History of England," ed. 1882.
"Memoirs of the War carried on in Scotland and Ireland, 1689-91," by
Major-General Hugh Mackay: printed for the Abbotsford Club, 1833.
"Life of Lieut.-General Hugh Mackay of Scowrie," by John Mackay of
Rockfields, 1836.
Napier's "Memorials and Letters Illustrative of the Life and Times of
John Graham of Claverhouse, Viscount Dundee," 1859-62.
"New Statistical Account of Scotland," 1845.
Pennant's "Tour in Scotland," 1774.
Scott's "Tales of a Grandfather."
Simpson's "Times of Claverhouse," 1844.
Simpson's "Gleanings in the Mountains," 1846.
Shield's "Short Memorial of the Sufferings and Grievances of the
Presbyterians in Scotland," 1690.
Stewart's "Sketches of the Highlanders of Scotland," 1822.
"Remarks on Col. Stewart's Sketches of the Highlanders," 1823.
Walker's "Biographia Presbyteriana," 1732, reprinted at Edinburgh 1837.
Wodrow's "History of the Sufferings of the Church of Scotland," Burn's
ed. 1838.
CLAVERHOUSE.
CHAPTER I.
John Graham, Viscount of Dundee, best known, perhaps, in history by his
territorial title of Claverhouse, was born in the year 1643. No record,
indeed, exists either of the time or place of his birth, but a decision
of the Court of Session seems to fix the former in that year--the year,
as lovers of historical coincidences will not fail to remark, of the
Solemn League and Covenant.[1]
He came of an ancient and noble stock. The family of Graham can be
traced back in unbroken succession to the beginning of the twelfth
century; and indeed there have been attempts to encumber its scutcheon
with the quarterings of a fabulous antiquity. Gram, we are told, was in
some primeval time the generic name for all independent leaders of men,
and was borne by one of the earliest kings of Denmark. Another has
surmised that if Graham be the proper spelling of the name, it may be
compounded of Gray and Ham, the dwelling, or home, of Gray; but if
Grame, or Græme, be the correct form, then we must regard it as a
genuine Saxon word, signifying fierce, or grim. Such exercises are
ingenious, and to some minds, possibly, interesting; but they are surely
in this case superfluous. A pedigree, says Scott laughingly as he sits
down to trace his own, is the national prerogative of every Scottishman,
as unalienable as his pride and poverty; but he must be very poor or
very proud who cannot find his account in the legitimate pedigree of the
House of Montrose.
The first of the branch of Claverhouse, which took its name from a small
town in Forfarshire a few miles to the north of Dundee, was John, son of
John Graham of Balargus in the same shire. Graham of Balargus was the
son of another John, who was the second son of Sir Robert Graham of
Fintrey, the eldest son of Robert Graham of Strathcanon, son and heir of
Sir William Graham of Kincardine, by his wife the Lady Mary Stuart,
widow of George first Earl of Angus and daughter of King Robert the
Third--the unhappy king of "The Fair Maid of Perth." The grandson of
John Graham was Sir William Graham of Claverhouse, the chosen friend of
his cousin, the gallant and unfortunate Marquis of Montrose. By his wife
Marion, daughter of Thomas Fotheringham of Powrie, Sir William had two
sons, George and Walter, of whom the latter was the ancestor of those
Grahams of Duntroon who at a later period assumed the title of Dundee.
George left one son, another Sir William, who married Lady Jean
Carnegie, daughter of the first Earl of Northesk, and by her had four
children--two daughters, Margaret and Anne, and two sons, John and
David. David is, as will be seen, not unrecorded in the annals of his
country; but his name has been completely eclipsed by that of his elder
brother, the "bloody Claver'se" of the Whigs, the "bonnie Dundee" of the
Jacobites, one of the most execrated or one of the most idolised
characters in the history of this kingdom, according to the temper and
the taste of the writers and readers of history.
The register of that year shows that the two brothers matriculated at
Saint Leonard's College in the University of Saint Andrews, on February
13th, 1665. Before this date all is a blank. Of John's boyish years
history and tradition are equally silent. Long after his death, indeed,
some idle stories became current, as their fashion is, of prophecies and
prodigies in that early time. His nurse is said to have foretold that a
river taking its name from a goose would prove fatal to him, and to have
lamented that her child's career of glory had been frustrated because he
had been checked in the act of devouring a live toad. This last story
sounds much like a popular version of the Grecian fable of Demophoön, as
told in the Homeric hymn to Demeter. But, as a matter of fact, it was a
legend current of the infancy both of the Regent Morton and of Montrose
himself before it was given to Claverhouse; and possibly of many other
youthful members of the Scottish aristocracy, who happened to make
themselves obnoxious to a class of their countrymen whose piety seems
to have added no holy point to their powers of invective. There is an
ingenious fancy, and, at least, as much reason as is generally displayed
in mythological researches, in the surmise that this particular legend
may have owed its origin to the French connection with Scotland, a
connection which would naturally have found little favour in the eyes of
the followers of John Knox.
Claverhouse seems to have neglected neither the studies nor the
discipline of the University. He has, indeed, in our own time been
denied enough even of the common intellectual culture of his day to save
him from ridicule as a blockhead. But there is no reason for this
contemptuous statement. His own contemporaries, and others, who if not
exactly contemporaries have at least as good right to be heard as a
writer of our own time, have left very different testimony. Burnet, who,
though connected by marriage with Claverhouse and at one time much in
his confidence, was the last of men to praise him unduly, has vouched
both for his abilities and virtues. Dalrymple, who was certainly no
Jacobite, though censured by the Whigs for his indulgence to James, has
described him as from his earliest youth an earnest reader of the great
actions recorded by the poets and historians of antiquity. More
particular testimony still is offered by a writer whose work was not,
indeed, undertaken till nearly fifty years after the battle of
Killiecrankie, but whose pictures of those men and times have all the
freshness and colour of a contemporary. The author of those memoirs of
Lochiel of which Macaulay has made such brilliant use, has credited
Claverhouse with a considerable knowledge of mathematics and general
literature, especially such branches of those studies as were likely to
be of most use to a soldier. Lastly, Doctor Munro, Principal of the
College of Edinburgh, when charged before a Parliamentary Commission
with rejoicing at the news of Killiecrankie, denied at least that he had
rejoiced at the death of the conqueror, for whom he owned "an
extraordinary value," such as, in his own words, "no gentleman, soldier,
scholar, or civilised citizen will find fault with me for."[2]
It would be as foolish to take these witnesses too literally, as it is
foolish to call Claverhouse a blockhead because he could not spell
correctly. For many years after his death men of position and abilities
far more distinguished and acknowledged than his, were not ashamed to
spell with a recklessness that would inevitably now entail on any
fourth-form boy the last penalty of academic law. Scott says that
Claverhouse spelled like a chambermaid; and Macaulay has compared the
handwriting of the period to the handwriting of washerwomen. The
relative force of these comparisons others may determine, but it is
certain that in this respect at least Claverhouse sinned in good
company. The letters of even such men as the Lord Advocate, Sir George
Mackenzie, and the Dalrymples,--letters written in circumstances more
favourable to composition than the despatches of a soldier are ever
likely to be--are every whit as capricious and startling in their
variations from the received standard of orthography. If it is
impossible quite to agree with his staunch eulogist, Drummond of
Bahaldy, that Claverhouse was "much master in the epistolary way of
writing," at least his letters are plain and to the purpose; and the
letters of a soldier have need to be no more.
It is, of course, unlikely that he could have been, even for those days,
a cultivated man. The studies of youth are but the preparation for the
culture of manhood; and after his three quiet years at Saint Andrews
were done, his leisure for study must have been scant indeed. But all we
know of his character, temperament, and habits of life forbid the
supposition that he wasted that precious time either in idleness or
indulgence. His bitterest enemies have borne witness to his singular
freedom from those vices which his age regarded more as the
characteristics than the failings of a gentleman. The most scurrilous of
the many scurrilous chroniclers of the Covenanters' wrongs has owned in
a characteristic passage that his life was uniformly clean.[3] Gifted by
nature with quick parts, of dauntless ambition and untiring energy both
of mind and body, he was not the man to have let slip in idleness any
chance of fortifying himself for the great struggle of life, or to have
neglected studies which might be useful to him in the future because
they happened to be irksome in the present. It is only, therefore, in
reason to suppose that he managed his time at the University prudently
and well, and this may easily be done without assuming for him any
special intellectual gifts or graces.
But, as a matter of strict fact, from the date of his matriculation to
the year 1672 nothing is really known of Claverhouse or his affairs. It
has, however, been generally assumed that, after the usual residence of
three years at the University, he crossed over into France to study the
art of war under the famous Turenne. As the practice was common then
among young men of good birth and slender fortune, it is not unlikely
that Claverhouse followed it. A large body of English troops was a few
years later serving under the French standard. In 1672 the Duke of
Monmouth, then in the prime of his fortune, joined Turenne with a force
of six thousand English and Scottish troops, amongst whom marched John
Churchill, a captain of the Grenadier company of Monmouth's own
regiment. But the military glory Claverhouse is said to have won in the
French service cannot have been great: his studies in the art of war
must have been mainly theoretical. In the year 1668, the year in which
Claverhouse is said to have left Scotland for France, Lewis had been
compelled to pause in his career of conquest. The Triple Alliance had in
that year forced upon him the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle. He had been
compelled to restore Franche Comté, though he still kept hold of the
towns he had won in the Low Countries. But the joy with which all
parties in England welcomed this alliance had scarcely found expression
when Charles, impatient of the economy of his Parliament and indifferent
to its approval, opened those negotiations which, with the help of his
sister the Duchess of Orleans, and that other Duchess, Louisa of
Portsmouth, resulted in the secret treaty of Dover. We are not now
concerned to examine the particulars of a transaction which even Charles
himself did not dare to confide entirely to his ministers, familiar as
the Cabal was with shameless deeds. It is enough for our present purpose
to remember that, in return for a large annual subsidy and the promise
of help should England again take up arms against her king, Charles
bound himself to aid Lewis in crushing the rising power of Holland and
to support the claims of the House of Bourbon to the throne of Spain.
Supplies were obtained for immediate purposes by closing the Exchequer,
an act which ruined half the goldsmiths in London. As a set-off against
this, a royal proclamation, arrogating to itself powers only Parliament
could rightly exercise, suspended the laws against Nonconformists and
Catholics. The latter were, indeed, allowed to say Mass only within
their private houses, but to dissenters of every other class was granted
the freest liberty of public worship.
The declaration of war followed close on the declaration of indulgence.
The immediate result of the latter was the release of John Bunyan from
an imprisonment of twelve years, and the publication of the "Pilgrim's
Progress." A more important and lasting result was the Revolution of
1688. Both declarations were unpopular, but the Declaration of
Indulgence was the most unpopular of the two. It was unpopular with the
zealous Churchman for the concessions it made both to Papist and
Puritan. It was unpopular with the Puritan because he was compelled to
share it with the Papist. It was unpopular with the Papist because it
was less liberal to him than to the Puritan. It was unpopular with all
classes of patriotic Englishmen alike, because it directly violated that
prerogative of the Legislature for which so much English blood had been
already shed. It was soon, indeed, repealed, and its repeal was soon
followed by the dissolution of the Cabal, the passing of the Test Act,
and peace with Holland. But though the fears of the nation were thus
laid to rest for a time, it now first became clear to those who could
look beyond the passing day, and whose vision was sharpened by the
memory of what had been, how surely England was moving under the son
back again to a state of things which had cost the father his crown and
his life.
But to return to the declaration of war. Lewis received, and probably
expected to receive, but little support from his English allies, and in
a furious action fought off the coast of Suffolk De Ruyter more than
held his own against the combined fleets of France and England. But on
land the French King carried all before him. Led by Condé and Turenne,
the ablest captains of the age, a vast host poured across the Rhine. The
Dutch were waked from the vain dreams of a French alliance, into which
they had been lulled by the chiefs of the great merchant class which had
risen to power on the fall of the House of Orange, only to find
themselves helpless. Town after town opened its gates to the invader:
three out of the seven provinces of the Federation were already in his
hands: his watch-fires were seen from the walls of Amsterdam. In the
first mad paroxysm of their despair the people rose against their
leaders. De Ruyter, who had borne their flag to victory on many a hard
fought day, was insulted in the public streets: the Grand Pensionary,
John De Witt, and his brother Cornelius were brutally murdered before
the palace of the States-General at the Hague. The office of Stadtholder
was re-established; and the common voice called back to it a prince of
that House which twenty years ago had been excluded for ever from the
affairs of a State which had never existed without it.
William Henry, great-grandson of the founder of the Dutch Republic,
hereafter to be known as William the Third of England, was then in his
twenty-second year. The heroic spirit of William the Silent lived again
in the frail body of his descendant. Without a moment's hesitation he
accepted the hard and thankless task imposed upon him. With wise counsel
and brave words he calmed and revived the drooping hearts of his
countrymen. He rejected with scorn the offers both of Charles and Lewis
to seduce him from his allegiance. He replied to Buckingham's
remonstrances on the folly of a struggle which could only mean ruin to
the Commonwealth, that he would fight while there was a ditch left for
him to die in. His courage spread. The Dutch flew to arms: without a
regretful voice they summoned to their aid their last irresistible ally:
the dykes were cut, and soon the waters, destroying to save, spread over
all that trim and fertile land. The tide of invasion was checked, and
with the next spring it began to roll slowly backward. The great princes
of the Continent became alarmed at this new prospect of French ambition.
The sluggish Emperor began to bestir himself. Spain, fast dwindling to
the shadow of that mighty figure which had once bestrode two worlds,
sent some troops to aid a cause which was, indeed, half her own. By sea
the Dutch could do no more than keep their flag flying, but it says much
for their sailors that they could do that against a foe their equal in
skill and courage, and almost always their superior in numbers. On land
they were more successful. The Bishop of Munster was driven back from
the walls of Groningen: Naerden and Bonne were retaken: before the
summer was over the whole electorate of Cologne was in the hands of
William and his allies. The campaign of 1674 was less fortunate to the
young general. Charles had, it is true, been compelled by his Parliament
to make a peace more favourable than the Dutch could have hoped for; but
in almost every direction Lewis made good again the ground he had lost
in the previous year. William, indeed, took Grave, but he was compelled
to raise the siege of Oudenarde. A large force of Germans under the
Elector of Brandenburg was driven out of Alsace across the Rhine by
Turenne, who had a short while before completely routed the Imperial
troops under the Duke of Lorraine at Sintzheim. Franche Comté was
reconquered in a few weeks. But the most notable action of the year was
the battle of Seneff, fought near Mons on August 11th between William
and Condé. It was long, bloody, and indecisive; but it raised William's
reputation for courage and ability to the highest pitch, and drew from
his veteran opponent one of those compliments a brave soldier is always
glad to pay a foeman worthy of his steel. "The Prince of Orange," said
Condé, "has acted in everything like an old captain, except in venturing
his life too like a young soldier."
The battle of Seneff has for us, too, a particular importance. It gives
us, according to some of his biographers, the first glimpse of
Claverhouse as a soldier. The story goes that, at an early period of the
fight, William with a handful of his men was closely beset by a large
body of French troops. In making his way back to his own lines the
Prince's horse foundered in some marshy ground, and he would inevitably
have been either killed or made prisoner had not Claverhouse, who was of
the party, mounted him on his own charger and brought him safe out of
the press. For this service William gave the young soldier (who was,
however, the Prince's senior by seven years) a captain's commission in
his own regiment of Horse Guards, commanded by the Count de Solmes who
led the English van on the day of the Boyne. This story has been
contemptuously rejected by Macaulay as a Jacobite fable composed many
years after both actors in the scene were dead. The story may not be
true, but Macaulay's reasons for rejecting it are not quite exact.
Reports of Claverhouse's gallantry at Seneff were certainly current
during his lifetime. It is mentioned, for example, in a copy of doggerel
verses addressed to Claverhouse by some nameless admirer on New Year's
Day 1683.[4] And there is yet more particular testimony, though, like
the former, it is of that nature which a historian will always feel
himself at liberty to reject if it does not match with the rest of his
case, and which counsel on the opposite side are accordingly at equal
liberty to make use of. In the memoirs of Lochiel mention is made of a
Latin poem written by a certain Mr. James Philip of Amryclos, in
Forfarshire, who bore Dundee's standard at Killiecrankie. Lochiel's
biographer does not quote the Latin text, but gives translations of
certain passages. The original manuscript, bearing the date 1691, is now
in the Advocates' Library at Edinburgh. Napier had seen this "Grameis,"
as the work is called, and compared it with the translations, which he
declares to be very imperfect, as, from the specimens he gives, they
undoubtedly are. Macaulay, who never saw the Latin text, owns to have
taken a few touches from the passages quoted in the memoirs for his
inimitable picture of affairs in the Highlands during the days
immediately preceding Killiecrankie; but the passage recording the early
gallantry of the conqueror at Killiecrankie he did not take.[5]
It is unfortunate that the tale of these early years should assume so
controversial a tone. But where all, or almost all, is sheer conjecture,
it is inevitable that the narrative must rest rather on argument than
fact. The precise moment when Claverhouse transferred his services from
the French to the Dutch flag is, in truth, no more certain than the
date of his birth is certain, or his conduct at Saint Andrews, or,
indeed, than it is certain that he ever at any time served under Lewis.
The tale of those English services under the French King is in the last
degree confused and doubtful. If it is so in the case of such a man as
Marlborough, small wonder that it is so in the case of such a man as
Claverhouse, whose name was practically unknown till ten years before
his death. That he did, however, at one time bear arms in the Dutch
ranks seems as indisputable as any part of the scanty story of the first
two-and-thirty years of his life can be said to be. But beyond this it
is impossible to go.
In 1677 he left William's service and returned to Scotland. An idle
story was circulated some years afterwards of a brawl with one of
William's officers who had received the regiment promised to
Claverhouse, of a reprimand from William, and an indignant vow never to
serve again under a prince who had broken his word. The judicial weight
that has been brought to demolish this slender fabric is unnecessary.
The story itself is not consistent with the characters of either men. It
is very possible that the young soldier, like another young man of those
days, may have grown "tired with knocking at preferment's door;" but, in
truth, a reason to account for their parting is very easily found. With
the campaign of 1677 all fighting on the Continent was stayed for a
time. Claverhouse's profession was fighting. After the peace of Nimeguen
in 1678 Scotland was the only European country then offering a chance of
employment to a soldier of fortune. In 1677, accordingly, he resigned
his commission in the Dutch service and crossed over into England,
taking with him a reputation for courage and ability that at once
recommended him to the King and Duke of York for a man likely to be
useful in such affairs as they had then on hand. Indeed, the character
that it is clear he brought back with him from Holland is alone
sufficient to disprove the story of the quarrel in the courtyard at
Loo.[6]
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Fountainhall's "Historical Notices:" Napier's "Memorials of Dundee,"
i. 183. The decision in question is dated July 24th, 1687, and certainly
appears to prove that Claverhouse did not attain his majority till 1664,
which would fix his birth in the year above given.
[2] The "Memoirs of the Life of Sir Ewan Cameron of Lochiel" were
printed for the Abbotsford Club in 1842. They are believed to have been
written between 1730 and 1740 by John Drummond of Bahaldy, a grandson,
or great-grandson, of Lochiel. Several copies of the manuscript are in
existence, of which the best is said by the editor to be the one then in
the possession of Mr. Crawfurd of Cartsburn. It is written in a clear
hand upon small quarto paper, and bound in two volumes. On the fly-leaf
of the first volume is written "Aug. 7. 1732, Jo. Drummond." See also
Burnet's "History of My Own Time," ii. 553; Dalrymple's "Memoirs of
Great Britain and Ireland," i. 344; Burton's "History of Scotland," vii.
360; Napier's "Memorials of Viscount Dundee," i. 16-32, and 178-9.
Burnet married Lady Margaret Kennedy, daughter of the Earl of Cassilis
and aunt of Lady Dundee. In point of style and arrangement, of taste and
temper--in everything, in short, which helps to make literature,
Napier's book is perhaps as bad as it is possible for a book to be. But
his industry is unimpeachable; and, through the kindness of the late
Duke of Buccleuch, he was able to publish no less than thirty-seven
letters written in Claverhouse's own hand to the first Duke of
Queensberry, not one of which had been included in the collection
printed for the Bannatyne Club in 1826, nor was, in fact, known to be in
existence by anyone outside the family of Buccleuch. His book includes
also the fragment of a memoir of Dundee and his times, left in
manuscript by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, of Hoddam, Walter Scott's
friend. The memoir was thrown up, it is said, in despair on the
appearance of "Old Mortality." Some idea of the extent to which Napier
suffered from the _Lues Boswelliana_ may be gathered from the fact that
he regards even the Claverhouse of that incomparable romance as a libel.
[3] "The Hell wicked-witted, bloodthirsty Graham of Claverhouse hated to
spend his time with wine and women."--"Life of Walter Smith," in
Walker's "Biographia Presbyteriana."
[4]
"I saw the man who at St. Neff did see
His conduct, prowess, martial gallantry:
He wore a white plumach that day; not one
Of Belgians wore a white, but him alone
And though that day was fatal, yet he fought,
And for his part fair triumphs with him brought."
Laing's "Fugitive Scottish Poetry of the Seventeenth Century."
[5] The passage occurs in the fifth book. Dundee, retreating before the
forces of the Convention, is represented as musing over his camp-fire on
the ingratitude of the Prince whose life he had once saved.
"Tu vero, Arctoæ gentis prædo improbe, tanti
Fons et origo mali, Nassovi, ingrate virorum,
Immeritum quid me, nunc Cæsaris arma secutum,
Prosequeris toties, et iniquo Marte fatiges?
Nonne ego, cum lasso per Belgia stagna caballo
Agmina liligeri fugeres victricia Galli,
Ipse mei impositum dorso salientis equi te
Hostibus eripui, salvumque in castra reduxi?
Hæcne mihi meriti persolvis præmia tanti?
Proh scelus! O Soceri rapti nequissime sceptri!"
The translation, which is certainly, as Napier calls it, both imperfect
and free, is to this effect:
"When the fierce Gaul through Belgian stanks you fled,
Fainting, alone, and destitute of aid,
While the proud victor urged your doubtful fate,
And your tired courser sunk beneath your weight;
Did I not mount you on my vigorous steed,
And save your person by his fatal speed?
For life and freedom then by me restored
I'm thus rewarded by my Belgick Lord.
Ungrateful Prince!"
[6] The stories of Claverhouse's conduct at Seneff, and of the quarrel
at Loo, are told in the "Life of Lieut.-General Hugh Mackay," by John
Mackay of Rockfields, and in the "Memoirs of the Lord Viscount Dundee,"
published in 1714, and professing to be written by an officer of the
army. This little book is remarkable chiefly as being the first recorded
attempt at a biography of Dundee. The writer was possibly not an
officer, nor personally acquainted with Dundee. But he had certainly
contrived to learn a good deal about him and his affairs; and as later
research has either corroborated or, at least, made probable, much of
his information, it seems to me quite as fair to use it for Dundee, as
to use the unsupported testimony of the Covenanters against him.
According to his biographer, Mackay himself was Claverhouse's successful
rival. According to the earlier writer, the man was David Colyear,
afterwards Lord Portmore, and husband of Catherine Sedley, Lady
Dorchester, James's favourite and ugliest mistress.