CHAPTER IX.

All eyes were now turned to Scotland. England had practically accepted

William, and although the terms of acceptance were still in some

quarters kept open to question, there was no longer fear that the final

answer would have to be given by the sword. In Scotland the case was

different. Many of the great nobles and other dignitaries had indeed

professed themselves in favour of William, but political morality, a

custom nowhere in those days very rigidly observed, may be said to have

been honoured by Scottish statesmen almost wholly in the breach. No man

trusted his neighbour, and his neighbour was perfectly aware of the

fact. It was impossible to say what an hour might not bring forth; and

in this flux of things no man could guarantee that the Whigs of to-day

would not be the Jacobites of to-morrow. Hamilton was the recognised

leader of the Whigs, Athole of the Jacobites. Both were great and

powerful noblemen. The influence of Hamilton was supreme in the Western

Lowlands: only Mac Callum More could muster to his standard a larger

gathering than the lord of Blair, and the glory of Mac Callum More was

now in eclipse. Yet Hamilton had been one of James' Privy Councillors,

and had not declared for William till the Dutch guards were at

Whitehall. His son Arran and his brother Dumbarton were both on the

other side: Arran had accompanied James to Rochester, and Dumbarton had

refused to hold his commission under the Prince of Orange. Athole had

more than once coquetted with the Whigs, and his present Jacobitism was

shrewdly suspected to be due to the coolness with which his advances had

been received: his son Lord Murray, who had married a daughter of

Hamilton, had declared for William. These great noblemen had indeed the

satisfaction of feeling that, however the die might fall, their titles

and estates were at least secured. But the wisdom of their family

arrangements did not increase their reputation with their parties. The

Duke of Gordon held the castle of Edinburgh for James; and, though the

Duke was a weak creature, his position was strong. The bulk of the

common people were undoubtedly Whigs: the bishops, and the clergy

generally, were, if not exactly Jacobites, undoubtedly Tories.

There were religious troubles of course to swell the political ones.

When the news of James's flight reached Edinburgh, Perth had been

imprudently induced to disband the militia, and the Covenanters had been

quick to take advantage of the imprudence. The Episcopal clergymen were

rabbled throughout all the western shires. Their houses were sacked, and

themselves and their families insulted and sometimes beaten: the

churches were locked, and the keys carried off in triumph by the pious

zealots. In Glasgow the Cathedral was attacked, and the congregation

pelted through the streets. In Edinburgh Holyrood Palace was carried by

storm: the Catholic chapel, which James had built and adorned with great

splendour, was gutted, and the printing-press, employed to publish

tracts in favour of the Catholic religion, was broken up. Perth fled for

his life, but was overtaken at sea, carried back and lodged in Stirling

Castle, followed by the threats and curses of the mob. Such was the

temper of the Scottish nation when the Convention of Estates, summoned

by William, met at Edinburgh on March 14th, 1689.

The Act depriving the Presbyterians of the franchise had been annulled,

and the elections had gone strongly in favour of the Whigs. Hamilton had

been chosen President by a majority of forty votes over Athole,

whereupon twenty ardent Jacobites went straightway over to the other

side. The next thing to be done was to get rid of Gordon. It was

impossible, they said, for a free Parliament to deliberate under the

shadow of hostile guns. Two of his friends, the Earls of Lothian and

Tweeddale, were accordingly sent to the Duke with a message from the

Convention, offering him favourable terms of surrender. He asked a night

for consideration; but during the night he was also visited by Dundee

and Balcarres. They showed him the commissions entrusted to them by

James, and told him that if things did not go better for their party

they had resolved to exercise their power of summoning a new Convention

to Stirling. At his request Dundee also gave him a paper guaranteeing

his action in holding the castle as most necessary to the cause. On the

following day, when the earls returned, Gordon told them he had decided

not to surrender his trust except upon terms too extravagant to be

seriously considered. He was accordingly summoned in form by the

heralds: guards were posted round the castle, and all communications

between it and the town declared treasonable. The Duke replied by a

largess of money to the heralds to drink King James's health, telling

them that they should in common decency have turned the King's coats

they wore on their backs before they came to declare the King's subjects

traitors.

Meanwhile a messenger had arrived with a sealed despatch for the Estates

from James. It seemed strange both to Dundee and Balcarres that the

message had not been to them, or at least accompanied by a letter

informing them of its purport; but they had no suspicion of its

contents, and willingly agreed to the terms on which the Whigs consented

to hear it read. These terms were, that the Convention was a legal and

free meeting, and would accept no order to dissolve until it had secured

the liberty and religion of Scotland. The vote was passed, and the

letter was read, to the consternation of the Jacobites and the delight

of the Whigs. Of all the foolish acts committed by James the despatch of

this letter was, in the circumstances, the most foolish. Not a word did

it contain of any intention to respect the religion or the liberty of

men whom it still professed to address as subjects. Pardon was promised

to all who should return to their allegiance within a fortnight: to all

others punishment was threatened in this world, and damnation in the

next. Nothing was wanting to heighten the imprudence. The letter was in

the handwriting of Melfort, who was equally odious to both parties; and

it had been preceded by one from William expressed in terms as wise and

moderate as the others were headstrong and foolish. But the feeling of

the more temperate Jacobites will best be shown in the account Balcarres

himself gave to his master of the effect produced by this fatal epistle.

"When the messenger was announced," he wrote,

"His coming was joyful to us, expecting a letter from your

Majesty to the Convention, in terms suitable to the bad

situation of your affairs in England, and as had been

advised by your friends before we left London; and so

assured were they of their advices being followed, that they

had encouraged all the loyal party, and engaged many to come

to the Convention, in hopes such full satisfaction would be

given in matters of religion and liberty, that even most of

those who had declared against you would return to their

duty. But, as in place of such a letter as was expected, or

letters to particular persons, as was advised, came a letter

from your Majesty to the Convention, without any copy to

show your friends, in terms absolutely different from those

we had agreed upon, and sent to your Majesty by Mr. Lindsay

from London. Upon other occasions such a letter might have

passed, if there had been power to have backed it, or force

to make good its reception; but after the Parliament of

England had refused to read a letter from your Majesty

because of the Earl of Melfort's countersigning it [and

considering] that England had made the Prince of Orange

their King, and that it was known you had none to sustain

your cause but those who advised letters of another strain,

it was a fault of your advisers hardly to be pardoned....

Crane was brought in and the letter read, with the same

order and respect observed upon such occasions to our Kings;

but no sooner was it twice read and known to be Earl

Melfort's hand and style, but the house was in a

tumult--your enemies in joy and your friends in confusion.

Glad were your enemies to find nothing so much as promised

of what we had asserted should be done for their

satisfaction, [they] having much feared many of their party

would have forsaken them if your Majesty's letter had been

written in the terms we advised from London. Mr. Crane could

give no account why the advice of your friends was not

followed, but Mr. Lindsay made no secret of it after he came

back from St. Germain's, but informed us that, after he had

delivered to [the] Earl of Melfort the letters and advices

of your friends at London to your Majesty, his Lordship kept

him retired, and he was not suffered to attend you--fearing

that what he had written to your Majesty relating to his

Lordship might spoil his project of going to Ireland with

you. We had observed at London the great aversion men of all

professions had at his being employed, and we knew he was in

no better esteem in his own country, which made us entreat

your Majesty to leave him in France, and some, upon his own

account, advised his not coming over, knowing the danger he

might be in; but his Lordship either suppressed our letters

or gave our advices another turn than was intended, by which

all our hopes of succeeding in the Convention vanished, nor

was ever seen so great an alteration as was observed at the

next meeting after your letter was read, which made all your

friends resolve to leave Edinburgh and to call a Convention

of Estates at Stirling, as your Majesty had given the

Archbishop of St. Andrews, the Viscount of Dundee, and

myself the power to do this by a warrant sent by Mr. Brown

from Ireland."

Dundee was anxious to be gone. He saw that the game was up in the

Convention, and there were other reasons. For many days past troops of

strange, fierce-looking men, carrying arms but half-concealed beneath

their plaids, had been flocking into Edinburgh. These were the men of

the hill-sides and moorlands of the West, the wild Western Whigs, who

feared and hated the name of Claverhouse more than anything on earth.

Their leader was William Cleland, a survivor from the fields of Drumclog

and Bothwell, a brave and able young man, of good education and humane

above his fellows, but who, it was well known, was burning to have

vengeance upon Dundee. Some of these men had been heard to mutter that

the tables were turned now, and "bloodly Clavers" should play the

persecutor no more. Word was brought to Dundee that a plot was on foot

to assassinate him and Sir George Mackenzie, the most hated of all

James's lawyers. Whether the rumour were true or not, it was at least

too probable to be disregarded. Dundee laid the matter before Hamilton,

offered to produce his witnesses, and demanded that these armed

strangers be ordered to leave the town. Hamilton (who was, in fact,

responsible for their presence) answered that the Convention had more

important matters to think of, that the city could not be left

defenceless to Gordon and his rebellious garrison, and, it is said,

twitted Dundee with imaginary fears unbecoming a brave man.

A meeting of the Jacobites was held. It was decided to call a fresh

Convention at Stirling. Mar, who held the castle there, professed

himself staunch, and Athole promised to have a force of his Highlanders

in readiness. This was on Saturday, March 16th: it was determined to

leave Edinburgh on the following Monday.

When Monday came Athole proposed to wait another day. As his

co-operation was of the greatest importance, his proposal was accepted.

But Dundee would wait no longer. In vain Balcarres told him that his

haste would ruin all their plans. He answered that he would take no

action without the agreement of the rest, but in Edinburgh he would stay

no longer. He had made an appointment for that day with some friends

outside the walls, and he could not break it. His troopers had been in

readiness since an early hour, and Dundee returning to his lodgings gave

signal to mount. The streets were thronged with scowling faces, but they

shrank to right and left as those stern riders came clattering down the

Canongate. A friend called from the crowd to know whither they went.

Dundee raised his hat from his head and answered: "Wherever the spirit

of Montrose shall direct me." When clear of the walls he led his men to

the left up the Leith Wynd and along the bank of the North Loch, the

ground now occupied by the busy and handsome thoroughfare known as

Prince's Street. The road to Stirling winds beneath the Castle rock, and

as the cavalcade came on, their leader saw the Duke on the ramparts,

making signals to him for an interview. Dundee dismounted, and scrambled

up the steep face of the rock. What passed between them is not clearly

known. Balcarres says Dundee told the Duke of the design for Stirling,

and once more prayed him to stand firm. But it seems clear that Dundee

had by that time abandoned all hopes of a fresh Convention, and it is

doubtful whether he had any definite plan in his mind. Dalrymple's

report of the conversation seems more likely to be the true one.

According to him Dundee pressed the Duke to come north with him, leaving

the castle to the charge of the Lieutenant-Governor, Winram, a man who

had made himself too odious to the people to leave room for any doubt

of his fidelity to James. But these bold ventures were not to the Duke's

taste: his courage was of that sort which shows best behind stone walls:

and his answer was ingeniously framed to conceal his timidity under a

show of discipline. "A soldier," he said, "cannot in honour quit the

post that is assigned to him."

Meanwhile the city was in an uproar. A number of people had gathered

round the foot of the rock to stare at the strange sight. The watchers

from the city magnified this idle crowd into a hostile force. A

messenger came in haste to the Convention with the news that Dundee was

at the gates with an army, and that the Duke of Gordon was preparing to

fire on the town.

Hamilton, who, while affairs were still in the balance, had behaved with

unexpected moderation, now gave loose to his temper. The time had come,

he said, for all good friends of order to see to their safety when

enemies to their liberties and religion were taking arms. There was

danger within as well as without. The traitors must be kept close; but

true men had nothing to fear, for thousands were ready to start up in

their defence at the stamp of his foot. He then ordered the room to be

locked, and the keys to be laid on the table. The drums beat to arms:

the town-guard, and such force of militia as was still in the city, fell

in; while from garrets and cellars the Westland men came thronging into

the streets, with weapons in their hands, and in their faces fury and

fear of their terrible enemy. After a time, as the news came that Dundee

had ridden off northward and that all seemed quiet in the castle, the

tumult subsided. The doors of the Parliament House were opened, and the

members came out. Hamilton and his party were greeted with loud cheers:

threats and execrations no less loud assailed the few and downcast

Jacobites. From that memorable day the friends of William had nothing

more to fear in the capital of Scotland. For a while, indeed, some show

of opposition was still maintained, faintly stimulated by the arrival of

Queensberry from London. But he had come too late. His power was no

longer what it had been; nor were his professions of loyalty regarded by

men like Balcarres as above all suspicion. For Queensberry had been wise

with the wisdom of Hamilton and Athole. The great House of Douglas was

prudently divided against itself, and come what might it should not

fall. And Athole now, after with great show of bravery urging Gordon to

fire on the town, had grown somewhat less than lukewarm, while Mar, the

Governor of Stirling Castle, put an end for ever to any thoughts of a

fresh Convention in that city by boldly declaring for William. The hopes

and the hearts of the Jacobites had gone northward with Dundee; and in

truth there was not at this moment a brave company of either.

Dundee did not draw rein in Stirling. He galloped through the town,

across the bridge, and on by Dunblane, where he stayed the night, to his

own home at Dudhope, where his lady was then waiting her confinement.

The only man of his own quality who had ridden with him from Edinburgh

was George Livingstone, Lord Linlithgow's son, whose troop of Life

Guards had been taken from him in the general re-arrangement of

regiments that had followed the fiasco of Salisbury; and he had left

his companion on the road to make for Lord Strathmore's house at Glamis.

For a week of unwonted quiet, the last he was to know on earth, Dundee

rested at Dudhope. Then his enemies found him. On the morning of the

26th Hamilton's messengers appeared before his gates, summoning him to

lay down his arms and return to his duty at the Convention, on pain of

being proclaimed traitor and outlaw. Dundee replied by a letter which,

as it has been styled both disrespectful and disingenuous, it is worth

while to print in full.

"Dudhope, March 27th, 1689.

"May it please your Grace:--The coming of an herald and

trumpeter to summon a man to lay down arms that is living in

peace at home, seems to me a very extraordinary thing, and,

I suppose, will do so to all that hear of it. While I

attended the Convention at Edinburgh I complained often of

many people being in arms without authority, which was

notoriously known to be true; even the wild hill-men; and no

summons to lay down arms under the pain of treason being

given them, I thought it unsafe for me to remain longer

among them. And because a few of my friends did me the

favour to convey me out of the reach of these murderers, and

that my Lord Livingstone and several other officers took

occasion to come away at the same time, this must be called

being in arms. We did not exceed the number allowed by the

Meeting of Estates. My Lord Livingstone and I might have had

each of us ten; and four or five officers that were in

company might have had a certain number allowed them; which

being, it will be found we exceeded not. I am sure it is far

short of the number my Lord Lorn was seen to march with. And

though I had gone away with some more than ordinary, who can

blame me when designs of murdering me was made appear?

Besides, it is known to everybody that, before we came

within sixteen miles of this, my Lord Livingstone went off

to his brother, my Lord Strathmore's, house; and most of the

officers and several of the company went to their respective

homes or relations. And, if any of them did me the favour to

come along with me, must that be called being in arms? Sure,

when your Grace represents this to the Meeting of the

States, they will discharge such a groundless pursuit, and

think my appearance before them unnecessary. Besides, though

it were necessary for me to go and attend the meeting, I

cannot come with freedom and safety, because I am informed

there are men-of-war and foreign troops in the passage; and

till I know what they are and what are their orders, the

Meeting cannot blame me for not coming. Then, my Lord,

seeing the summons has proceeded on a groundless story, I

hope the Meeting of States will think it unreasonable I

should leave my wife in the condition she is in. If there be

anybody that, notwithstanding of all that is said, thinks I

ought to appear, I beg the favour of a delay till my wife is

brought to bed; and in the meantime I will either give

security or parole not to disturb the peace. Seeing this

pursuit is so groundless, and so reasonable things offered,

and the Meeting composed of prudent men and men of honour,

and your Grace presiding in it, I have no reason to fear

further trouble.

"I am, may it please your Grace, your most humble servant,

"DUNDEE.

"I beg your Grace will cause this read to the Meeting,

because it is all the defence I have made. I sent another to

your Grace from Dunblane with the reasons of my leaving

Edinburgh. I know not if it be come to your hands."

The letter was read to the Convention on the following day, and on

Saturday, March 30th, John Graham, Viscount of Dundee, was proclaimed

traitor with all the usual ceremonies. Thrice was his name called within

the Parliament House, and thrice outside its doors, and thrice with

sound of trumpet at the market-cross of the good town of Edinburgh.

About the same time happened a still more untoward thing. James was now

in Ireland. He had learned how matters had gone in Scotland, and

conceived that the moment for action had come. A commission was

accordingly despatched to Dundee, constituting him Lieutenant-General

and Commander-in-Chief in Scotland, together with a letter in James's

own hand, informing him that five thousand foot and three hundred horse

would presently be at his disposal. There were letters also from Melfort

both to Dundee and Balcarres. Either by the folly or the knavery of the

messenger the papers fell into the hands of Hamilton, who read them to

the Convention. As usual, Melfort's letters were in the most foolish and

violent language. "You will ask no doubt," he wrote to Dundee, "how we

shall be able to pay our armies; but can you ask such a question while

our enemies, the rebels, have estates to be forfeited? We will begin

with the great and end with the small ones." To Balcarres he wrote in

the same strain. "The estates of the rebels will recompense us. You know

there were several lords whom we marked out, when you and I were

together, who deserved no better fate. When we get the power, we will

make these men hewers of wood and drawers of water." No man was

mentioned by name, so that each man was at liberty to take these threats

for himself. "You hear," cried Hamilton, "you hear, my lords and

gentlemen, our sentence pronounced. We must take our choice, to die, or

to defend ourselves." There was a terrible uproar, the new Whig recruits

being among the loudest in their exposition of the dangers to which

their love for their religion and their country was likely to expose

them. Leven was ordered with two hundred of his new regiment to arrest

both Dundee and Balcarres.[77] The latter was taken easily enough, and

clapped into the Tolbooth. But Dundee got wind of his danger, and was

off before the soldiers could reach Dudhope. He went northward still, to

Glen Ogilvy, his wife's jointure-house, in the parish of Glamis, not far

from the old historic castle of Macbeth; and thither Leven did not think

it prudent to pursue him.

FOOTNOTES:

[77] During the first alarm raised by Dundee's departure the Convention

had passed an order to raise and arm a regiment of eight hundred men,

and had given the command to Leven. It is said that the men were found

within two hours. See "An Account of the Proceedings of the Estates in

Scotland," London, 1689.

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