lighted, and it is not fitting that a residence once honoured by our
king should ever again be occupied by anyone less noble. The pine tree
is the badge of my clan. At my behest the pine tree sheltered the
king, and now, at the blast of my bugle, it sends forth to the glen
its farewell of flame."
THE KING EXPLORES
James was pleased with himself. He had finished a poem, admitted by
all the court to excel anything that Sir David Lyndsay ever wrote, and
he had out-distanced James MacDonald, son of the Laird of Sleat, in a
contest for the preference of the fairest lady in Stirling, and young
MacDonald was certainly the handsomest sprig about the palace. So the
double victory in the art of rhythm and of love naturally induced the
king to hold a great conceit of himself. Poor Davie, who was as modest
a man regarding his own merits as could be found in the realm, quite
readily and honestly hailed the king his superior in the construction
of jingling rhyme, but the strapping young Highlander was proud as
any scion of the royal house, and he took his defeat less diffidently.
"If the king," he said boldly, "was plain Jamie Stuart, as I am Jamie
MacDonald, we would soon see who was winner of the bonniest lass, and
if he objected to fair play I'd not scruple to meet him sword in hand
on the heather of the hills, but not on the stones of Stirling. It is
the crown that has won, and not the face underneath it."
Now this was rank treason, for you must never talk of swords in
relation to a king, except that they be drawn in his defence. The
inexperienced young man made a very poor courtier, for he spoke as his
mind prompted him, a reckless habit that has brought many a head to
the block. Although MacDonald had a number of friends who admired the
frank, if somewhat hot-headed nature of the youth, his Highland
swagger often earned for him not a few enemies who would have been
glad of his downfall. Besides this, there are always about a court
plenty of sycophants eager to curry favour with the ruling power; and
so it was not long after these injudicious utterances had been given
forth that they were brought, with many exaggerations, to the ears of
the king.
"You think, then," said his majesty to one of the tale-bearers, "that
if Jamie had the chance he would run his iron through my royal
person?"
"There is little doubt of it, your majesty," replied the parasite.
"Ah, well," commented James, "kings must take their luck like other
folk, and some day Jamie and I may meet on the heather with no other
witnesses than the mountains around us and the blue sky above us, and
in that case I shall have to do the best I can. I make no doubt that
MacDonald's position in Stirling is less pleasant than my own. He is
practically a prisoner, held hostage here for the good conduct of his
father, the firebrand of Sleat, so we must not take too seriously the
vapouring of a youth whose leg is tied. I was once a captive myself to
the Douglas, and I used words that would scarcely have been pleasant
for my gaoler to hear had some kind friend carried them, so I have
ever a soft side for the man in thrall."
To the amazement of the courtiers, who had shown some inclination to
avoid the company of MacDonald after he had unburdened his soul, the
king continued to treat the Highlander as affably as ever, but many
thought his majesty was merely biding his time, which was indeed the
case. The wiser heads about the court strongly approved of this
diplomacy, as before they had looked askance at the king's rivalry
with the irascible youth. They knew that affairs were not going well
in the north, and so loose were the bonds restraining MacDonald, that
at any moment he might very readily have escaped, ridden to the hills,
and there augmented the almost constant warfare in those mountainous
regions. Every clan that could be kept quiet was so much to the good,
for although they fought mostly among themselves, there was ever a
danger of a combination which might threaten the throne of Scotland.
Very often the king recklessly offended those whom he should
conciliate, but even the wiseacres were compelled to admit that his
jaunty kindness frequently smoothed out what looked like a dangerous
quarrel. The sage counsellors, however, thought the king should keep
a closer watch on those Highland chieftains who were practically
hostages in his court. But to this advice James would never listen.
Having been a captive himself not so very long before, as he
frequently remarked, he thus felt an intense sympathy for those in
like condition, even though he himself kept them so through the
necessity of internal politics, yet he always endeavoured to make
the restraint sit as lightly as possible on his victims.
Some weeks after the ill-considered anti-royal threats had been made,
their promulgator was one of a group in the courtyard of the castle,
when the captain of the guard came forward and said the king wished to
see him in his private chamber. MacDonald may have been taken aback by
the unexpected summons, but he carried the matter off nonchalantly
enough, with the air of one who fears neither potentate nor peasant,
and so accompanied the captain; but the gossips nodded their heads
sagely at one another, whispering that it would be well to take a good
view of MacDonald's back, as they were little likely to see him soon
again, and this whisper proved true, for next day MacDonald had
completely disappeared, no one knew whither.
When James the laird's son, entered the presence of James the king,
the latter said as soon as the captain had left them alone together,--
"Jamie, my man, you understand the Gaelic, so it is possible you
understand those who speak it."
"If your majesty means the Highlanders, they are easily enough
understood. They are plain, simple, honest bodies who speak what's on
their minds, and who are always willing, in an argument, to exchange
the wag of the tongue for a swoop of the black knife."
"I admit," said the king with a smile, "that they are a guileless
pastoral people, easy to get on with if you comprehend them, but that
is where I'm at a loss, and I thought your head might supplement my
own."
"I am delighted to hear you want my head for no other purpose but that
of giving advice," returned the Highlander candidly.
"Truth to tell, Jamie, your head would be of little use to me were it
not on your shoulders. If the head were that of a winsome lassie I
might be tempted to take it on my own shoulder, but otherwise I am
well content to let heads remain where Providence places them."
Whether intentional or not, the king had touched a sore spot when he
referred to the laying of a winsome lassie's head on his shoulder, and
MacDonald drew himself up rather stiffly.
"In any ploy with the ladies," he said, "your majesty has the weight
of an ermine cloak in your favour, and we all know how the lassies
like millinery."
"Then, Jamie, in a fair field, you think you would have the advantage
of me, as for example if our carpet were the heather instead of the
weaving of an Eastern loom?"
"I just think that," said MacDonald stoutly.
The king threw back his head and laughed the generous laugh of the
all-conquering man.
"E-god, Jamie, my man, we may put that to the test before long, but it
is in the high realms of statesmanship I want your advice, and not in
the frivolous courts of love. You may give that advice the more freely
when I tell you that I have made up my mind what to do in any case,
and am not likely to be swayed one way or other by the counsel I shall
receive."
"Then why does your majesty wish to have my opinion?" asked the
Highlander.
"Lord, I'll want more than your opinion before this is done with, but
I may tell you at once that there's troublesome news from Skye."
"Are the MacLeods up again?"
"Aye, they're up and down. They're up in their anger and down on their
neighbours. I cannot fathom the intricacies of their disputes, but it
may interest you to know that some of your clan are engaged in it. I
suspect that Alexander MacLeod of Dunvegan is behind all this,
although he may not be an active participant."
"Ah, that is Allaster Crottach," said the young man, knitting his
brows.
"Allaster, yes, but what does Crottach mean?" asked the king.
"It means the humpback."
"Yes, that's the man, and a crafty plausible old gentleman he is. He
got a charter under the Great Seal, of all his lands, from my father,
dated the fifteenth of June, 1468. This did not satisfy him, and when
I came to the throne he asked for a similar charter from me, which I
signed on the thirteenth of February last. Its conditions seemed to be
most advantageous to him, for all that was required of him was that he
should keep for my use a galley of twenty-six oars, and likewise keep
the peace. I am not aware whether the galley has been built or not,
but there is certainly very little peace where a MacLeod has a
claymore in his hand. Now, Jamie, the MacLeods are your neighbours in
Sleat, so tell me what you would do were the king's crown on your
head?"
"I should withdraw their charter," said MacDonald.
"That seems but just," concurred the king, "still, I doubt if our
friend the humpback places very much value on the writing of his
august sovereign. He knows he holds his lands as he holds his sword,
his grip on the one relaxing when he loses his grip on the other. We
will suppose, however, the charter withdrawn and the MacLeod laughing
defiance at us. What next, MacDonald?"
"Next! I would raise an army and march against him and make him laugh
on the other side of his crooked mouth."
"Hum," said the king, "that means traversing the country of the
Grahams, who would probably let us by; then we next meet the Stewarts,
and for my name's sake perhaps they might not molest us. We march out
of their country into the land of the MacNabs, and the chief is an old
friend of mine, so we need fear no disturbance there. After that we
must trust ourselves to the tender mercies of the Campbells, and the
outcome would depend on what they could make by attacking us or by
leaving us alone. Next the Clan Cameron confronts us, and are more
likely than not to dispute our passage. After them the MacDonalds, and
there, of course, you stand my friend. When at last we reached the
Sound of Sleat, how many of us would be left, and how are we to get
across to Skye with the MacLeods on the mainland to the north of us? I
am thinking, Jamie, there are lions in that path."
"The lions are imaginary, your majesty. The Grahams, the Stewarts, the
MacNabs would rise not against you, but for you, delighted to be led
by their king. The Campbells themselves must join you, if your force
were large enough to do without them. Among the MacDonalds alone I
could guarantee you an army. You forget that the Highlandman is always
anxious for warfare. Leave Stirling with a thousand men and you will
have ten thousand before you are at the shores of Sleat."
The king meditated for a few moments, then he looked up at his comrade
with that engaging smile of his.
"It may all be as you say, Jamie. Perhaps the Highlands would rise
with me instead of against me, but a prudent commander must not ignore
the possibility of the reverse. However, apart from all this I am
desirous of quelling the military ardour of the Highlands, not of
augmenting it. It's easy enough setting the heather on fire in dry
weather, but he is a wise prophet who tells where the conflagration
ends. I would rather carry a bucket of water than a sword, even
though it may be heavier."
"If your majesty will tell me what you have resolved upon, then I
shall very blithely give you my opinion on it. It is always easier to
criticise the plans of another than to put forward sensible plans of
one's own."
"You are right in that, Jamie, and the remark shows I have chosen a
wise counsellor. Very well, then. I have never seen the renowned
island of Skye. They tell me it is even more picturesque than Stirling
itself. I propose then to don a disguise, visit Skye, and find out if
I can what the turbulent islanders want. If I am not able to grant
their desire, I can at least deal the better with them for being
acquainted."
"Your majesty does not purpose going alone?" cried MacDonald in
amazement.
"Certainly not. I shall be well guarded."
"Ah, that is a different matter, and exactly what I advised."
"You advised an army, which I shall not take with me. I shall be well
guarded by my good right arm, and by the still more potent right arm,
if I may believe his own statement, of my friend, Jamie MacDonald of
Sleat."
With bent brows MacDonald pondered for a few moments, then looking up,
said,--
"Will your majesty trust yourself in the wilderness with a prisoner?"
"There is no question of any prisoner. If you refer to yourself, you
have always been at liberty to come and go as pleased you. As for
trusting, I trust myself to a good comrade, and a Highland gentleman."
The king rose as he spoke and extended his hand, which the other
grasped with great cordiality.
"You will get yourself out of Stirling to-night," continued the king,
"as quietly as possible, and hie you to my Castle of Doune, and there
wait until I come, which may be in a day, or may be in a week. I will
tell the court that you have gone to your own home, which will be true
enough. That will keep the gossips from saying we have each made away
with the other if we both leave together. You see, Jamie, I must have
some one with me who speaks the Gaelic."
"My advice has been slighted so far," said MacDonald, "yet I must give
you another piece of it. We are going into a kittleish country. I
advise you to order your fleet into some safe cove on the west coast.
It will do the west Highlanders good to see what ships you have, for
they think that no one but themselves and Noah could build a boat.
When we come up into my own country we'll get a gillie or two that can
be depended on to wait on us, then if we are nipped, one or other of
these gillies can easily steal a boat and make for the fleet with your
orders to the admiral."
"That is not a bad plan, Jamie," said the king, "and we will arrange
it as you suggest."
The court wondered greatly at the sudden disappearance of James
MacDonald, but none dared to make inquiry, some thinking he had
escaped to the north, others, that a dungeon in Stirling Castle might
reveal his whereabouts. The king was as genial as ever, and the
wiseacres surmised from his manner that he meditated going off on
tramp again. The fleet was ordered to Loch Torridon, where it could
keep a watchful eye on turbulent Skye. The king spent three days
in settling those affairs of the realm which demanded immediate
attention, left Sir Donald Sinclair in temporary command, and rode
off to Doune Castle.
From this stronghold there issued next morning before daylight, two
well-mounted young men, who struck in a northwesterly direction for
the wild Highland country. Their adventures were many and various, but
MacDonald's Gaelic and knowledge of the locality carried them
scatheless to the coast, although much of the journey was done on
foot, for before half the way was accomplished the insurmountable
difficulty of the passes compelled them to relinquish their horses. As
it was unadvisable for them to enter Skye in anything like state, the
two travellers contented themselves with an ordinary fishing-boat,
which spread sail when the winds were fair, and depended on the oars
of the crew when the sea was calm. They were accompanied by two
gillies, who were intended to be useful on any ordinary occasion, and
necessary in case of emergency, for the boat and its crew were to wait
in any harbour of Skye that was determined upon and carry news to Loch
Torridon if the presence of the fleet was deemed necessary.
It was a beautiful evening, with the sea as smooth as glass, when the
fishing-boat, with sails folded, propelled by the stalwart arms of the
rowers, entered a land-locked harbour, guarded by bold headlands. The
name given to the place by MacDonald was so unpronounceable in Gaelic
that it completely baffled the Saxon tongue of the king, but although
his majesty was not aware of the fact, his own presence was to remedy
that difficulty, because the place was ever afterwards known as the
Haven of the King--Portree.
The scattered village climbed up the steep acclivity, and as the royal
party rounded the headland and came in sight of the place, it seemed
as if the inhabitants knew a distinguished visitor was about to honour
them with his presence, for the whole population, cheering and
gesticulating, was gathered along the shore. The gillie, however,
informed his master that the demonstration was probably on the
occasion of the launch of the handsome ship which they now saw,
covered with flags, riding placidly on the surface of the bay. She
was evidently new for her sides were fresh from the axe, without
stain of either weather or wave.
"It seems the boat is yours," said MacDonald to the king in English.
"It is the twenty-six oared galley that Allaster Crottach was bound by
his agreement to build for you. My man tells me that it is to be taken
to-morrow to Dunvegan Castle, so it is likely to be used by Allaster
Crottach himself before your majesty sets foot in it, for if it had
been intended only for the king it would have been left here so that
it might be convenient to the mainland. It has been built by Malcolm
MacLeod, the leader of all the people in these parts. He thinks
himself the most famous boat-builder in the world, so Allaster has at
least fulfilled one part of his agreement, and doubtless believes this
to be the finest craft afloat."
"It is indeed a beautiful barge," assented the king, admiring the
graceful lines of the ship. "But what is that long-haired, bare-legged
cateran screaming about with his arms going like a windmill? The crowd
evidently appreciates his efforts, for they are rapturous in their
applause."
MacDonald held up his hand and the oarsmen paused, while the boat
gently glided towards the shore. In the still air, across the water,
the impassioned Gaelic words came clearly to the voyagers.
"He is saying," translated MacDonald, after a few moments listening,
"that the MacLeods are like the eternal rocks of Skye, and their
enemies like the waves of the sea. Their enemies dash against them and
they remain unmoved, while the wave is shattered into infinitesimal
spray. So do the MacLeods defy and scorn all who come against them."
The king shrugged his shoulders.
"The man forgets that the sea also is eternal, and that it ultimately
wears away the cliff. This appears to be an incitement towards war,
then?"
"Oh, not so," replied MacDonald. "The man is one of their poets, and
he is reciting an epic he has written, doubtless in praise of
Malcolm's boat-building."
"God save us!" cried the king. "Have we then poets in Skye?"
"The whole of the Highlands is a land of poetry, your majesty,"
affirmed MacDonald drawing himself up proudly, "although the very poor
judges of the art in Stirling may not be aware of the fact."
The king laughed heartily at this.
"I must tell that to Davie Lyndsay," he said. "But here we have
another follower of the muse who has taken the place of the first.
Surely nowhere else is the goddess served by votaries so unkempt. What
is this one saying?"
"He says that beautiful is the western sky when the sun sinks beneath
the wave, but more beautiful still is the cheek of the Rose of Skye,
the daughter of their chieftain."
"Ah, that is better and more reassuring. I think either of us, Jamie,
would rather be within sight of the smiles of the Rose of Skye than
within reach of the claymores of her kinsmen."
By this time the assemblage on shore became aware that visitors were
approaching, and the declamation ceased. Malcolm MacLeod himself came
forward on the landing to greet the newcomers. He was a huge man of
about fifty, tall and well proportioned, with an honest but masterful
face, all in all a magnificent specimen of the race, destined by
nature to be a leader of men. He received his visitors with dignified
courtesy.
"I am James MacDonald," explained that young man by way of
introduction, "son of the Laird of Sleat. We heard you had built a
boat for the king, and so have come to see it. This is James Stuart, a
friend of mine from the Lowlands, and I have brought him with me that
he may learn what boat-building really is."
"You are very welcome," said MacLeod, "and just in time, for they are
taking her round the headland to Dunvegan to-morrow morning. Aye,
she's a bonnie boat, if I do say it myself, for no one knows her and
what she'll do better than I."
"The king should be proud of her," said MacDonald.
MacLeod tossed his shaggy head and replied with a sneer,--
"It's little the king knows about boats. He should be playing with a
shallop in a tub of water, instead of meddling with men's affairs.
Allaster Crottach is our king, and if he graciously pleases to tickle
the lad in Stirling by saying he owns the boat, Allaster himself will
have the using of her. I would not spike a plank for the king, but I'd
build a fleet for Allaster if he wanted it. Has your friend the
Gaelic? If he has, he may tell the king what I say, when he goes back
to the Lowlands."
"No, he has no Gaelic, Malcolm, but I'll put into the English whatever
you like to say."
And so he gave to the king a free rendition of MacLeod's remarks,
toning them down a little, but James was shrewd enough to suspect from
the manner of the man of Skye, that he held his nominal monarch in
slight esteem.
Malcolm MacLeod took the strangers to his own house, which was the
best in the village. Almost the entire population of the port had been
working on the king's boat, and now that it was finished and launched,
the place had earned a holiday. Malcolm was delighted to have visitors
who could bear witness to the skill of his designing, appreciate the
genius of the poets and listen to the skreigh of the piping. The
strangers were most hospitably entertained and entered thoroughly into
the spirit of the festivities. The morning after their arrival they
cheered as lustily as the others when the twenty-six oars of the
king's barge struck the water and the craft moved majestically out of
the harbour. They seemed to have come into a land of good-will toward
all mankind; high and low vying with each other to make their stay as
pleasant as possible.
"Losh, Jamie," said the king to his friend two or three days after
their arrival, "I might well have ignored your advice about the ships,
as I did your base counsel about the army. I need no fleet here to
protect me in Skye where every man is my friend."
"That is very true," replied MacDonald, "but you must not forget that
no one has any suspicion who you are. Everyone is a friend of James
Stuart of the Lowlands, but I hear nobody say a good word for the
king."
"What have they against him?" asked the Guidman of Ballengeich with a
frown, for it was not complimentary to hear that in a part of his own
dominion he was thought little of.
[Illustration: "THE STRANGERS WERE MOST HOSPITABLY ENTERTAINED, AND
ENTERED THOROUGHLY INTO THE SPIRIT OF THE FESTIVITIES."]
"It isn't exactly that they have anything against the king," said
MacDonald, perhaps not slow to prick the self-esteem of his comrade,
"but they consider him merely a boy, of small weight in their affairs
one way or another. They neither fear him nor respect him. The real
monarch of these regions is the humpback in Dunvegan Castle; and even
if they knew you were the king, your sternest command would have no
effect against his slightest wish, unless you had irresistible force
at the back of you."
"Ah, Jamie, you are simply trying to justify the bringing of the fleet
round Scotland."
"Indeed and I am not. The only use to which you can put your fleet
will be to get you away from here in case of trouble. As far as its
force is concerned, these islanders would simply take to the hills and
defy it."
"Ah, well," said the king, "I'll make them think better of me before I
am done with them."
The week's festivities were to end with a grand poetical contest. All
the bards of the island were scribbling; at any rate, those who could
write. The poets who had not that gift were committing their verses to
memory that they might be prepared to recite them before the judges,
three famous minstrels, who were chosen from three districts on the
island, thus giving variety and a chance of fairness to their
decisions.