Could Monmouth's influence have lasted, their defeat at Bothwell Bridge
might have turned out well for the Covenanters. As soon as he had led
his army back into quarters, he hastened to London, where he so strongly
represented the brutal folly and mismanagement of Lauderdale's
government, that he prevailed upon the King to try once more the effect
of gentler measures. An indemnity was granted for the past, and even
some limited form of indulgence for the future. But the unexpected
return of the Duke of York from Holland put an end to all these humane
counsels. Monmouth was himself soon again in disgrace; and Lauderdale,
though his power was now past its height, was still strong enough to
mould to his own will concessions for which the time had now perhaps
irrevocably gone.
The twelve hundred prisoners from Bothwell were marched in chains to
Edinburgh, and penned like sheep in the churchyard of the Grey Friars,
the building which barely forty years before had witnessed the
triumphant birth of that Covenant which was, if ever covenant of man
was, assuredly to be baptized in blood. Two of them, and both ministers,
were immediately executed: five others, as though to appease the cruel
ghost of Sharp, were hanged on Magus Moor: of the rest, the most part
were set at liberty on giving bonds for their future good behaviour,
while the more obstinate were shipped off to the plantations.
Claverhouse was now sent back to his old employment. Though none of his
own letters of this time have survived, it is clear from an Order of the
Privy Council that shortly after the affair at Bothwell he was again
entrusted with the control of the rebellious shires. There is
unfortunately no record of his own by which it is possible to check the
vague charges of Wodrow, who wisely declines to commit himself to
particulars on the ground that "multitudes of instances, once flagrant,
are now at this distance lost," while not a few, he candidly admits,
"were never distinctly known." In the rare cases in which he becomes
more specific in his complaints, he does not make it clear that the
offences were committed in Claverhouse's presence, nor even that they
were always committed by soldiers of his troop--"the soldiers under
Claverhouse" seem to stand with him for all the royal forces then
employed in the western shires. That what he calls "spulies,
depredations, and violences" were committed on Claverhouse's authority
may be freely granted: they were precisely such as a strict obedience to
the letter (and no less to the spirit) of his commission would have
enjoined--the levying of fines, the seizure of arms, horses, and other
movable property from all suspected of any share in the rebellion who
would not absolve themselves by taking the oath of abjuration, and from
all resetters, or harbourers, of known rebels. It would be idle to
refuse to believe that many unjust and cruel acts were not committed at
this time, as we know they were committed subsequently, merely because
they cannot be succinctly proved. It is unlikely that Claverhouse
himself wasted over-much time on sifting every case that was brought in
to him by his spies; and where he was not himself present--and it must
be remembered that he was not the only officer engaged in this service,
and also that his own soldiers were often employed under his lieutenants
on duties he was personally unable to attend to--it is hard to doubt
that much wild and brutal work went on. The whole case, in short, except
in a very few instances (which will be examined elsewhere), is one
solely of hearsay and tradition; and it is no more than common justice
in any attempt to define Claverhouse's share in it, to give him the
benefit of the doubt where it is not directly contrary to the proved
facts and the evidence of his despatches. For Claverhouse, it should be
also and always remembered, may be implicitly trusted to speak the truth
in these matters, for the simple reason that he was not in the least
ashamed of his work. We may well believe that it was not the work he
would have chosen; but it was the work he had been set to do; and his
concern was only to execute it as completely as possible. He was a
soldier, obeying the orders of his superiors, for which they and they
only were responsible. That their orders matched with his feelings,
religious as well as political, for Claverhouse was as thorough in his
devotion to the Church as he was in his devotion to the Crown, mattered
nothing. The whole question was to him one of military obedience. Sorely
as he may have chafed at the order, he halted his troopers on the banks
of the Clyde when Monmouth's trumpets sounded the recall, with the same
readiness and composure that he showed in leading them to the charge
down the slopes of Drumclog; and he would have led them against his
brothers-in-arms Ross or James Douglas, had they turned rebels, as
straightly and keenly as he led them against Hamilton and Burley. At the
same time both his letters and his actions show that he did his best to
discriminate between the ringleaders and the crowd: between the brawling
demagogues or the meddlesome priests and the honest ignorant peasants,
whose only crime was that they wished to worship God after a fashion the
Government chose to discountenance. It is not necessary to assume that
he was moved thereto by any softness of heart: common-sense, and a
sense, too, of justice, would suffice to show him where to strike. And
it will hereafter be seen that, where his commission was large enough,
he more than once exercised a discretion not entirely to the taste of
the more thorough-going zealots of the Edinburgh Council-board.
The only distinct evidence we have of him at this time is contained in
the aforesaid Orders of Council. From these it appears that he had been
charged by the Scottish Treasury with appropriating the public moneys to
his use. He had been appointed for his services trustee to the Crown of
the estate of one Macdowall of Freugh, an outlawed Galloway laird; and
of this estate it was alleged that he would render no accounts, nor of
the fines he had been commissioned to levy on the non-abjuring rebels.
With characteristic fearlessness Claverhouse went straight to London,
and in a personal interview satisfied Charles of his innocence, who
forthwith ordered him to be reinstated in his commission and all the
privileges belonging to it.[35] It is clear, however, that during the
greater part of the year 1680 Claverhouse was suspended from both his
civil and military employments, and this will account for the duty of
punishing the authors of the Sanquhar Declaration devolving not upon
him, but upon his lieutenant, Bruce of Earlshall.
The prime mover of the Sanquhar Declaration was Richard Cameron, who had
now become the head of the extreme party, henceforth to be known by his
name--a name which still survives as that of a distinguished regiment of
the British army. It was framed in much the same language and to much
the same purpose as its predecessor of Rutherglen, though it would not
be right to degrade Cameron to the level of Hamilton and his ruffianly
associates. It took its title from having been fixed to the market-cross
of Sanquhar, a small town in Dumfriesshire, on June 22nd, 1680. Exactly
a month later Claverhouse's troopers (though, as I have said, not
commanded by Claverhouse himself) came upon the Cameronians in a
desolate spot among the wilds of Ayrshire, known as Aird's Moss. Richard
Cameron was killed at the first charge: Donald Cargill and Hackston of
Rathillet were made prisoners. Both were taken to Edinburgh and
executed, the latter with circumstances of needless barbarity.
Though Claverhouse was reinstated in his commission, he does not appear
to have been actively employed during the year 1681, the second year of
the Duke of York's administration in Scotland, and the year also of the
Test and Succession Acts, which were destined to cost another Argyle his
head. Early in 1682 the Duke of York returned to England, to which fact
Wodrow attributes "a sort of respite of severities," notwithstanding
that Claverhouse was once more commissioned for his old work in the
West, and with even ampler authority than before. In addition to his
military powers, he was appointed Sheriff of Wigtownshire and
Deputy-Sheriff of Dumfriesshire and the Stewartries of Kirkcudbright and
Annandale; and he was also specially invested with a commission to hold
criminal courts in the first-named shire and to try delinquents by jury.
His letters to Queensberry[36] begin in February 1682, and from this
time onward his actions become easier to follow. These letters give a
very full and fair idea of his method of procedure, and in one of them
is a passage worth quoting as evidence how far that method as yet
deserved the hard epithets which have been so freely lavished on it. The
despatch is dated from Newton in Galloway, March 1st, 1682.
"The proposal I wrote to your Lordship of, for securing the
peace, I am sure will please in all things but one,--that it
will be somewhat out of the King's pocket. The way that I
see taken in other places is to put laws severely, against
great and small, in execution; which is very just; but what
effects does that produce, but more to exasperate and
alienate the hearts of the whole body of the people; for it
renders three desperate where it gains one; and your
Lordship knows that in the greatest crimes it is thought
wisest to pardon the multitude and punish the ringleaders,
where the number of the guilty is great, as in this case of
whole countries. Wherefore, I have taken another course
here. I have called two or three parishes together at one
Church, and, after intimating to them the power I have, I
read them a libel narrating all the Acts of Parliament
against the fanatics; whereby I made them sensible how much
they were in the King's reverence, and assured them he was
relenting nothing of his former severity against dissenters,
nor care of maintaining the established government; as they
might see by his doubling the fines in the late Act of
Parliament; and in the end told them, that the King had no
design to ruin any of his subjects he could reclaim, nor I
to enrich myself by their crimes; and therefore any who
would resolve to conform, and live regularly, might expect
favour; excepting only resetters and ringleaders. Upon this,
on Sunday last, there was about three hundred people at
Kirkcudbright Church; some that for seven years before had
never been there. So that I do expect that within a short
time I could bring two parts of three to the Church. But
when I have done,--that is all to no purpose. For we will be
no sooner gone, but in comes their Ministers, and all repent
and fall back to their old ways. So that it is vain to think
of any settlement here, without a constant force placed in
garrison. And this is the opinion of all the honest men
here, and their desire. For there are some of them, do what
they like, they cannot keep the preacher from their houses
in their absence, so mad are some of their wives."
His remedy was to raise a hundred dragoons for a permanent garrison: the
Crown was to pay the soldiers, and the country would find maintenance
for the horses, he bearing his own part as "a Galloway laird," which he
was as trustee of Macdowall's estate. The command of this new force he
was willing to undertake without any additional pay.
It does not seem that this remedy was ever sanctioned; but at any rate
Claverhouse so managed matters that a month later he was able to report
to the Council that all was "in perfect peace."
"All who were in the rebellion are either seized, gone out
of the country, or treating their peace; and they have
already so conformed, as to going to the Church, that it is
beyond my expectation. In Dumfries not only almost all the
men are come, but the women have given obedience; and
Irongray, Welsh's own parish, have for the most part
conformed; and so it is all over the country. So that, if I
be suffered to stay any time here, I do expect to see this
the best settled part of the Kingdom on this side the Tay.
And if these dragoons were fixed which I wrote your Lordship
about, I might promise for the continuance of it.... All
this is done without having received a farthing money,
either in Nithsdale, Annandale, or Kirkcudbright; or
imprisoned anybody. But, in end, there will be need to make
examples of the stubborn that will not comply. Nor will
there be any danger in this after we have gained the great
body of the people; to whom I am become acceptable enough;
having passed all bygones, upon bonds of regular carriage
hereafter."[37]
For these services Claverhouse was summoned to Edinburgh to receive the
thanks of the Council, to whom he presented an official report of his
proceedings which is no more than a summary of his letters to
Queensberry.[38]
It was not likely that a man so uniformly successful and of such high
spirit would be able to steer clear of all offence to men, who probably
felt towards him much as Elizabeth's old courtiers felt towards the
triumphant and masterful Raleigh. Nor, conscious of his own powers and
confident in the royal favour, is it probable that he was always at much
pains to avoid offence, for, though neither a quarrelsome nor a wilful
man, he had his own opinions, and was not shy of expressing them when he
saw fit to do so. With all his constitutional regard for authority and
his soldier's respect for discipline, Claverhouse would suffer himself
to be browbeaten by no one. In those jealous intriguing days a man who
could not fight for his own hand was bound to go down in the struggle.
Claverhouse was now to give a signal proof that he both could and would
fight for his when the need came.
The Dalrymples of Stair had been settled in Galloway for many
generations. Sir James, the head of the house, was one of the first
lawyers of the day, and had held the Chair of Philosophy in the
University of Glasgow: the son, Sir John (afterwards to earn an undying
name in history as prime mover in the Massacre of Glencoe), was
heritable Baillie in the regality of Glenluce. There had been bad blood
between them and Claverhouse for some time past. The father had not
profited sufficiently by his studies either in law or philosophy to
recognise the folly of a man in disgrace venturing to measure swords
with one of fortune's favourites. And Sir James at the time of his
quarrel with Claverhouse was in disgrace. At the close of 1681 he had
been dismissed from the office of President of the Court of Session for
refusing the Test Act; and for some while previously he had been coldly
regarded for his advocacy of gentler measures than suited Lauderdale and
his creatures. The Dalrymples were strict Presbyterians; and though the
men were too cautious to meddle openly with treasonable matters, their
womenfolk were notoriously in active sympathy with the rebels. All
through Claverhouse's letters of this time run allusions to some great
personage whom it might be wise to make an example of, and he himself
had taken an early opportunity of impressing on Sir James the necessity
of caution.[39] But the latter would not be warned. He set himself
against Claverhouse at every opportunity, both openly and in secret. He
wrote long querulous letters to Edinburgh, complaining of the latter's
disrespect. Finally, when he found it prudent to leave the country for a
while, his son carried the business to a height by bringing a formal
charge against Claverhouse of extortion and malversation. The latter saw
his opportunity, and at once carried the war into the enemy's country.
He preferred a specific bill of complaint against Sir John, in the
course of which it came out that he had been offered a bribe both by
father and son not to interfere with their hereditary jurisdictions;
and, notwithstanding the exertions of Sir George Lockhart and
Fountainhall, the most eminent counsel of the Scottish bar, utterly
defeated him on every point. The Court found that Sir John Dalrymple had
been guilty of employing rebels and of winking at treasonable practices:
of not exacting the proper fines by law ordained for such misdemeanours:
of stirring up the country-folk against the King's troops; and, finally,
of grossly misrepresenting Claverhouse to the Council. For these
offences he was sentenced to pay a fine of five hundred pounds and the
whole costs of the proceedings, and to be imprisoned in the Castle of
Edinburgh till the money should be paid. Claverhouse, on his side,
received not only a full and most complimentary acquittal from all his
adversary's charges, but also a signal proof of the royal favour in the
presentation to a regiment of cavalry raised especially for this
purpose. His commission was dated December 25th, 1682, and in the
following March he was sent into England with despatches from the
Council to the King and the Duke of York, who was still nominally
Commissioner for Scottish Affairs.[40]
Hitherto Claverhouse may be said to have stood conspicuous among the men
of his time for his persistent refusal to enrich himself at the public
cost. He had certainly had many opportunities, as had a still more
famous captain after him, of wondering at his own moderation, yet his
enemies had been unable to bring home to him a single instance of
malpractice. But we have now come to an episode in his life for which
an extremely virtuous or an extremely censorious moralist might, were he
so minded, find occasion to re-echo the popular epithet of rapacious.
Claverhouse was in no sense of the word an avaricious man; but, like all
sensible men, he had a strong belief in the truth of the maxim, the
labourer is worthy of his hire. He had laboured long and successfully;
and the time, he thought, had now come for his hire.
Lauderdale was dying, and from every side the vultures were flocking
fast to their prey. In those days politicians looked for promotion
mainly to the death or disgrace of their comrades, and the death of any
powerful statesman generally meant the disgrace of his family. All
parties were now busy in anticipation over the rich booty that was so
soon to come into the market. His brother and heir, Charles Maitland of
Hatton, was attacked before the breath was out of the old man's body.
Among the many lucrative posts he enjoyed, the most lucrative was that
of Governor (or General, as the style went) of the Scottish Mint. At the
instigation of Sir George Gordon of Haddo, who had become in quick
succession President of the Court of Session, Lord Chancellor, and Earl
of Aberdeen, a Commission was appointed to inquire into the state of the
coinage, with the result that Maitland (by this time Earl of Lauderdale,
for the dukedom began and ended with his brother) was declared to have
appropriated to his own use no less than seventy thousand pounds of the
revenue. In the general division of spoil which this verdict gave signal
for, Claverhouse saw no reason why he should go empty away. Eleven years
previously, when the old statesman was at the height of his evil power,
his brother had been appointed Constable of Dundee and presented with
the estate of Dudhope, lying conveniently near to Claverhouse's few
paternal acres. A bargain, which would have seemed in those days no
disgraceful thing to any human being, was accordingly struck between
Claverhouse and the various claimants for the dead man's shoes.
Queensberry, though but lately advanced to a marquisate, had set his
heart upon a dukedom: the Chancellor was in want of money to support his
new honours. And there were other petitioners for the good offices of
the ambassador to Whitehall: Huntly and the Earl Marischal and Sir
George Mackenzie had each marked his share of the general prize. To one
and all Claverhouse promised his services; and they on their part were
to advance by all means in their power his designs on the fat acres of
Dudhope. All this, no doubt, sounds very contemptible to us now, who
manage these matters so much more circumspectly; but it must be
remembered that Lauderdale, though his offence was probably greatly
exaggerated, and though a large part of the fine in which he had been
originally cast was in fact remitted, had certainly been guilty of gross
carelessness, if not of actual malversation; while Claverhouse on his
pact offered to pay, and did pay, whatever sum might be legally fixed as
due for his share of the booty.[41]
All these bargains were in time brought to a successful issue.
Claverhouse was in England from the beginning of March to the middle of
May. He was with the Court at Newmarket, Windsor, and London, always in
high favour, but at the former place finding the King more eager for his
company at the cockpit and race-course than in the council-chamber.[42]
Early in May he returned to Scotland, and shortly after his return he
took his seat at Edinburgh as a Privy Councillor. This was his present
reward: Dudhope and the Constabulary were to follow later, with
Queensberry's and Huntly's dukedoms and the other honours. But Dudhope
was not destined to drop into his lap. The Chancellor, whom he counted
as his particular friend, had played him false. Lauderdale's fine had
been reduced by Charles from seventy thousand pounds to twenty thousand,
sixteen thousand of which were granted to the Chancellor and four
thousand to Claverhouse. But should Lauderdale and his son agree to
assign to the Chancellor under an unburdened title the lands and
lordship of Dundee and Dudhope, then the whole sum was to be remitted,
Lauderdale binding himself to discharge the fines inflicted on his
subordinates. Power was also given to Claverhouse to redeem this
property from the Chancellor at twenty years' purchase; and it seems
also to have been privately agreed between them that the purchase-money
was not to be exacted, on condition of the former buying certain other
lands in the neighbourhood that the latter wished to dispose of. But the
crafty Chancellor saw an easier and quieter way to get hold of his
money. For the sum of eight thousand pounds he privately relinquished
all his rights to Lauderdale, thus leaving the latter free to deal with
Claverhouse on his own terms. This bit of sharp practice was effected in
August 1683; and it was not till the following March that the business
was finally settled, after a long and tedious wrangle before the Court,
in the course of which Claverhouse seemed to have found occasion to
speak his mind pretty sharply to the Chancellor. On the question of the
former's right to demand Dudhope on the terms of twenty years' purchase
Lauderdale had to give way; but on the other question of clearing the
title he was so difficult to deal with that the King himself had to
interfere; and not till a peremptory order had gone down from Whitehall,
cancelling the royal pardon till all the terms of the original agreement
had been satisfactorily settled, was the affair finally closed, the
title cleared, and Claverhouse established as master of the long-coveted
estate.
It was not till the autumn of 1684 that Claverhouse found himself master
of Dudhope and Constable of Dundee. Meanwhile one of the few domestic
events of his life that have come down to us had taken place. On June
10th he had been married to the Lady Jean Cochrane, granddaughter to the
old Earl of Dundonald.
This young lady was the daughter of William, Lord Cochrane, by
Catherine, daughter of the Presbyterian Earl of Cassilis and sister to
that Lady Margaret Kennedy whom Gilbert Burnet had married. Her father
had died before Claverhouse came on the scene, leaving seven children,
of whom Jean was the youngest. Her mother, whose notoriously Whiggish
sympathies had brought both her husband and father-in-law into
suspicion, was furiously opposed to the match; though worldly prudence
may have touched her heart as well as religious scruple, for
Claverhouse, though he had risen fast and was marked by all men as
destined to rise still higher, was hardly as yet perhaps a very eligible
husband for the pretty Lady Jean. But in truth it was a strange family
for him to seek a wife in, and many were the whispered gibes the news of
his courtship provoked at Edinburgh. Was this strong Samson, men asked,
to fall a prey at last to a Whiggish Delilah? Hamilton, whose own
loyalty was by no means unimpeachable, and who was no friend to
Claverhouse, affected to be much distressed by the Lady Susannah's
partiality for the young Lord Cochrane, and made great parade of his
disinclination to give his daughter to the son of such a mother without
the express consent of the King; and this Claverhouse chose to take as a
hit at him, who had not thought it necessary to ask any one's permission
to choose his own wife. Affairs were still further complicated by the
backslidings of Sir John Cochrane, Lady Jean's uncle, a notorious rebel
who was then in hiding for his complicity with Russell and Sidney, and
was even suspected of knowing something of that darker affair of the Rye
House. Claverhouse was furious at the gossip. "My Lord Duke Hamilton,"
he wrote to Queensberry,
"has refused to treat of giving his daughter to my Lord
Cochrane, till he should have the King and the Duke's leave.
This, I understand, has been advised him, to load me.
Wherefore I have written to the Duke, and told him that I
would have done it sooner, had I not judged it presumption
in me to trouble his Highness with my little concerns; and
that I looked upon myself as a cleanser, that may cure
others by coming amongst them, but cannot be infected by any
plague of Presbytery; besides, that I saw nothing singular
in my Lord Dundonald's case, save that he has but one rebel
on his land for ten that the lords and lairds of the south
and west have on theirs; and that he is willing to depone
that he knew not of there being such. The Duke is juster
than to charge my Lord Dundonald with Sir John's crimes. He
is a madman, and let him perish; they deserve to be damned
that own him. The Duke knows what it is to have sons and
nephews that follow not advice. I have taken pains to know
the state of the country's guilt as to reset; and if I make
it not appear that my Lord Dundonald is one of the clearest
of all that country, and can hardly be reached in law, I am
content to pay his fine. I never pleaded for any, nor shall
I hereafter. But I must say I think it hard that no regard
is had to a man in so favourable circumstances--I mean
considering others--upon my account, and that nobody offered
to meddle with him till they heard I was likely to be
concerned in him.... Whatever come of this, let not my
enemies misrepresent me. They may abuse the Duke for a time,
and hardly. But, or long, I will, in despite of them, let
the world see that it is not in the power of love, nor any
other folly, to alter my loyalty."
And again on the same day:
"For my own part, I look upon myself as a cleanser. I may
cure people guilty of that plague of Presbytery by
conversing with them, but cannot be infected. And I see very
little of that amongst those persons but may be easily
rubbed off. And for the young lady herself, I shall answer
for her. Had she not been right principled, she would never,
in despite of her mother and relations, made choice of a
persecutor, as they call me."[43]
The young lady seems to have been well-favoured, though it is not easy
to learn much from the female portraits of those days, which are all
very much of a piece. What else she may have been it is impossible to
say. She is a name in her husband's history and nothing more, and in the
few stormy years that were yet to run for him she could not well have
been much more. However, she seems to have been well pleased with her
handsome lover; and, in spite of her mother's opposition, the marriage
was pushed briskly forward. The contract was signed at Paisley on June
10th, and on the following day the marriage was celebrated at the same
place. Lady Catherine's is not among the signatures; but there is to be
seen the almost illegible scrawl of the old grandfather and of Euphrame
his wife, a daughter of Sir William Scott of Ardross. The bride's eldest
brother, whose own marriage with the Lady Susannah Hamilton was soon to
follow, and her cousin John, son of the outlaw of Ochiltree, were also
among the witnesses; and for the bridegroom, his brother-in-arms Lord
Ross[44] and Colin Mackenzie, brother of the Lord Advocate, Sir George
of Rosehaugh. The lady's jointure was fixed at five thousand merks Scots
(something over two hundred and seventy pounds of English money),
secured on certain property in Forfarshire and Perthshire; while she on
her side brought her husband what in those days was reckoned a very
comfortable fortune for a younger child.[45]
The marriage was made under an evil star. Hardly had the blessing been
spoken when word came down in haste from Glasgow that the Whigs were up.
Since the Sanquhar Declaration and the deaths of Cameron and Cargill,
the Covenanters had been comparatively quiet. The work of pacification
had indeed not slackened, but rather taken a fresh departure in the
appointment of a Court of High Commission, or Justiciary Circuit, which
in the summer of 1683 was held in the towns of Stirling, Glasgow, Ayr,
Dumfries, Jedburgh, and Edinburgh. Claverhouse was expressly ordered to
attend the justices in their progress as captain of the forces, except
at places where the Commander-in-Chief would naturally be present. But
though the discovery of the Rye House Plot had just then stirred the
kingdom to its centre, and given fresh energies both to the Government
and its enemies, only three men suffered during this circuit, of whom
two were convicted murderers. In each town members of the gentry as well
as of the common people flocked to take the Test; some to clear
themselves of suspicion, others only to air their loyalty, but all, in
the words of the report, cheerfully. Where time, moreover, was asked for
consideration, it was granted on good security. But from the end of
July, 1683, to the day of his marriage, Claverhouse seems to have been
occupied almost entirely with his duties as Councillor at Edinburgh, and
only to have left the capital for brief tours of inspection through the
western garrisons.
But with the day of his marriage came a change. On the previous Sunday
news had been brought to Glasgow of an unusually large and well-armed
conventicle to be held at Blacklock, a moor on the borders of
Lanarkshire and Stirlingshire. Dalziel (who was in church when the
message came, but who did not suffer his duty towards God to interfere
with his duty towards man) put the soldiers on the track at once; but
for the next eight-and-forty hours the country from Hamilton northwards
to the ford of Clyde was scoured in vain. The Covenanters marched fast,
and the country folk, many of them probably still fresh from the Test,
kept their secret well. Claverhouse was sent for in haste from Paisley.
He was in the saddle and away before the bridal party could recover from
their first shock of surprise. But even Claverhouse was foiled. His
lieutenant, however, had better luck. Colonel Buchan, as he was
returning to Paisley by way of Lismahago, came upon an ambuscade of two
hundred Covenanters, whose advanced post fired on and wounded one of the
soldiers.[46] "They followed the rogues," wrote Claverhouse to
Queensberry, "and advertised Colonel Buchan; but before he could come
up, our party had lost sight of them. Colonel Buchan is yet in pursuit
and I am just taking horse. I shall be revenged some time or other of
this unseasonable trouble these dogs give me. They might have let
Tuesday pass." This despatch was written from Paisley on the morning of
the 13th, while fresh horses were being saddled. By noon he was off
again, and for the next three days rode fast and far, leaving "no den,
no knowl, no moss, no hill unsearched." He could track his game from
Aird's Moss to within two miles of Cumnock town, and thence on towards
Cairntable. But there all traces of them had vanished.
"We could never hear more of them. I sent on Friday night
for my troop from Dumfries, and ordered them to march by the
Sanquhar to the Muirkirk, to the Ploughlands, and so to
Streven. I sent for Captain Strachan's troop from the
Glenkens, and ordered him to march to the old castle of
Cumloch, down to the Sorne, and through the country to
Kilbryde, leaving Mauchline and Newmills on his left, and
Loudon-hill on his right. By this means they scoured this
country, and secured the passages that way. Colonel Buchan
marched with the foot and the dragoons some miles on the
right of my troop, and I, with the Guards and my Lord Ross
and his troop, up by the [Shaire?]. We were at the head of
Douglas. We were round and over Cairntable. We were at
Greenock-head, Cummer-head, and through all the moors,
mosses, hills, glens, woods; and spread in small parties,
and ranged as if we had been at hunting, and down to
Blackwood, but could learn nothing of those rogues. So the
troops being extremely harassed with marching so much on
grounds never trod on before, I have sent them with Colonel
Buchan to rest at Dalmellington, till we see where these
rogues will start up. We examined all on oath, and offered
money, and threatened terribly, for intelligence, but we
could learn no more."[47]
The "rogues" were to start up soon and with a vengeance. On a day in
July (the date is not specified) a party of troopers were escorting
sixteen prisoners to Dumfries. They were Claverhouse's men, but their
captain was not with them. At Enterkin Hill, a narrow pass with a deep
precipice on either side, a rescue was attempted by a considerable body
of men,--English Borderers, it was whispered. Some of the prisoners
escaped: others were killed in the scuffle or broke their necks over the
precipice: only two were brought into Edinburgh: a few of the soldiers
were also killed. This audacious affair spurred the Government on to new
energies. The garrisons were increased through all the western shires.
Claverhouse, with Buchan for his second in command, was put in charge of
all the forces in Ayrshire and Clydesdale, and a special civil
commission was added to their military powers.
At length, towards the end of August, there was a lull, and the master
of Dudhope was able at last to enjoy the society of his bride and the
pleasures of a country life. But of the latter he soon grew weary.
"Though I stay a few days here," he wrote to Queensberry on August 25th,
"I hope none will reproach me of eating the bread of idleness." That, at
least, is a reproach his worst enemies have never tried to fasten on
him. To be doing something was, indeed, a necessity of his existence;
and his duties as Constable soon furnished him with something to do. In
the Tolbooth of Dundee lay a number of poor wretches whom the hard laws
of the time had sentenced to death for various offences, the gravest of
which did not rise above theft. It was within the Constable's power to
order them at any moment for execution; and doubtless some of those who
have meddled with his life, had they been aware of this circumstance in
it, would have risked the conclusion that he did so. Yet, strange as it
may seem, he exerted himself to save the prisoners. And he exerted
himself so successfully that not only was the capital sentence reprieved
to such milder punishment as he might order, but the same license was
granted to him for dealing with all future criminals of the same
class.[48]
FOOTNOTES:
[35] "We have spoken to him about it," runs the royal Order, "and he
doth positively assert that while he was in Scotland he received not one
farthing upon that account" (Napier, ii. 238). The two Orders are dated
respectively February 3rd and 26th, 1681.
[36] The Marquis of Queensberry was then Lord Treasurer, and
practically, since Lauderdale's disgrace, first Minister of Scotland.
[37] Claverhouse to Queensberry, April 1st, 1682.
[38] A copy of this report was printed in the Aberdeen Papers (1851)
from the original in Claverhouse's own hand: Napier, ii. 276.
[39] "Here in the shire I find the lairds all following the example of a
late great man, and still a considerable heritor here among them; which
is, to live regularly themselves, but have their houses constant haunts
of rebels and intercommuned persons, and have their children baptized by
the same; and then lay all the blame on their wives; condemning them,
and swearing they cannot help what is done in their absence."
Claverhouse to Queensberry, March 5th, 1682.
[40] Napier, ii. 285-309.
[41] "I must beg your Lordship's assistance in that business of the
lands of Dudhope. My Lord Chancellor designs nothing but to sell it, and
buy lands in the north, seeing he is to get Stirling Castle to dwell in.
Wherefore I desire leave to ask the house of Dudhope, and the
Constabulary, and other jurisdictions of Dundee belonging to my Lord
Lauderdale; and I offer to buy forty chalders of victual from my Lord
Chancellor lying about it [meaning the land bearing so much, at a
valuation], though I should sell other lands to do it. I have no house,
and it lies within half-a-mile of my land; and all that business would
be extremely convenient for me, and signify not much to my Lord
Chancellor, especially seeing I am willing to buy the land. I would take
this for the greatest favour in the world, for I cannot have the
patience to build and plant." Claverhouse to Queensberry, March 20th,
1683.
[42] "It is hard to get any business done here. I walked but nine miles
this morning with the King, besides cock-fighting and courses."
Claverhouse to Queensberry, Newmarket, March 9th, 1683.
[43] Both these letters were written from Edinburgh, May 19th, 1684.
[44] William, twelfth Lord Ross, son of the one previously mentioned.
[45] Napier, ii. 385-393. The contract was first printed in the volume
of Claverhouse's letters edited by George Smythe for the Bannatyne Club
in 1826. That volume contains also portraits of the bride and
bridegroom, a drawing of which was made by Sharpe for Napier. The
portrait of the latter is the one known as the Leven portrait, now in
possession of Lady Elizabeth Cartwright. The portrait of Lady Jean is
from a picture then belonging to the editor. There is also an engraving
of a mourning ring belonging to the editor's grandmother, Catherine
Cochrane, wife of David Smythe of Methven, said to have been given to
her by her father, Lady Dundee's brother. The ring contains a lock of
Dundee's hair, on which the letters V.D. are worked in gold, with a
Viscount's coronet above. The motto is "Great Dundee for God and me. J.
Rex." One child was born of the marriage in April 1689, and he died
three months after his father fell at Killiecrankie. Lady Dundee married
secondly William Livingstone, afterwards Lord Kilsyth, of whom mention
will be made elsewhere. A son was born also of this marriage, but in the
autumn of 1695 both mother and child were killed by the fall of a house
in Holland. Lord Kilsyth was "out in the Fifteen," and died an outlaw at
Rome in 1733, after which the title became extinct. Napier (iii.,
Appendix 2) gives a curious account of the opening of Lady Dundee's
coffin more than a hundred years after her burial in the family vault at
Kilsyth Church.
[46] "So when we came to Streven (Strathavon), I left the command to
Colonel Buchan, and desired him to return the troops to their quarters;
but, in his march, to search the skirts of the hills and moors on the
Clydesdale side; which he did, and gave me an account that, going in by
the Greenock-head, he met a man that lives down on Clydeside, that was
up buying wool, who told him that on Lidburn, which is in the heart of
the hills on the Clydesdale side, he had seen a great number of rebels
in arms, and told how he had considered the commanders of them. One of
them, he said, was a lusty black man with one eye, and the other was a
good-like man, and wore a grey hat. The first had on a velvet cap. But
before he (Colonel Buchan) could come near the place, a party of foot,
that he had sent to march on his right, fell accidentally on them. Four
of our soldiers going before to discover, were fired on by seven that
started up out of a glen, and one of ours was wounded. They fired at the
rebels, who, seeing our party of foot making up, and the horse in sight,
took the alarm, and gained the hills, which was all moss." Claverhouse
to the Archbishop of Saint Andrews (Alexander Burnet), Paisley, June
16th, 1684.
[47] Claverhouse to the Archbishop, Paisley, June 16th, 1684.
[48] "Privy Council Register," Edinburgh, September 10th, 1684: Napier,
ii. 410.