Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers and Other Poems Part 7

Not one of the chiefs subscribed until the mandate from King James arrived. That doc.u.ment, which is dated from St. Germains on the 12th of December 1691, reached Dunkeld eleven days afterwards, and, consequently, but a very short time before the indemnity expired. The bearer, Major Menzies, was so fatigued that he could proceed no farther on his journey, but forwarded the mandate by an express to the commander of the royal forces, who was then at Glengarry. It was therefore impossible that the doc.u.ment could be circulated through the Highlands within the prescribed period. Locheill, says Drummond of Balhaldy, did not receive his copy till about thirty hours before the time was out, and appeared before the sheriff at Inverara, where he took the oaths upon the very day on which the indemnity expired.

That a general ma.s.sacre throughout the Highlands was contemplated by the Whig government, is a fact established by overwhelming evidence. In the course of the subsequent investigation before the Scots Parliament, letters were produced from Sir John Dalrymple, then Master of Stair, one of the secretaries of state in attendance upon the court, which too clearly indicate the intentions of William. In one of these, dated 1st December 1694,--_a month_, be it observed, before the amnesty expired--and addressed to Lieutenant-Colonel Hamilton, there are the following words:--"The winter is the only season in which we are sure the Highlanders cannot escape us, _nor carry their wives, bairns_, and cattle to the mountains." And in another letter, written only two days afterwards, he says, "It is the only time that they cannot escape you, for human const.i.tution cannot endure to be long out of houses. _This is the proper season to maule them, in the cold long nights_." And in January thereafter, he informed Sir Thomas Livingston that the design was "to destroy entirely the country of Lochaber, Locheill's lands, Keppoch's, Glengarry's, Appin, and Glencoe. I a.s.sure you," he continues, "your power shall be full enough, _and I hope the soldiers will not trouble the Government with prisoners_."

Locheill was more fortunate than others of his friends and neighbours.

According to Drummond,--"Major Menzies, who, upon his arrival, had observed the whole forces of the kingdom ready to invade the Highlands, as he wrote to General Buchan, foreseeing the unhappy consequences, not only begged that general to send expresses to all parts with orders immediately to submit, but also wrote to Sir Thomas Livingston, praying him to supplicate the Council for a prorogation of the time, in regard that he was so excessively fatigued, that he was obliged to stop some days to repose a little; and that though he should send expresses, yet it was impossible they could reach the distant parts in such time as to allow the several persons concerned the benefit of the indemnity within the s.p.a.ce limited; besides, that some persons having put the Highlanders in a bad temper, he was confident to persuade them to submit, if a further time were allowed. Sir Thomas presented this letter to the Council on the 5th of January, 1692, but they refused to give any answer, and ordered him to transmit the same to Court."

The reply of William of Orange was a letter, countersigned by Dalrymple, in which, upon the recital that "several of the chieftains and many of their clans had not taken the benefit of our gracious indemnity," he gave orders for a general ma.s.sacre. "To that end, we have given Sir Thomas Livingston orders to employ our troops (which we have already conveniently posted) to cut off these obstinate rebels _by all manner of hostility_; and we do require you to give him your a.s.sistance and concurrence in all other things that may conduce to that service; and because these rebels, to avoid our forces, may draw themselves, _their families_, goods, or cattle, to lurk or be concealed among their neighbours: therefore, we require and authorise you to emit a proclamation to be published at the market-crosses of these or the adjacent s.h.i.+res where the rebels reside, discharging upon the highest penalties the law allows, any reset, correspondence, or intercommuning with these rebels." This monstrous mandate, which was in fact the death-warrant of many thousand innocent people, no distinction being made of age or s.e.x, would, in all human probability, have been put into execution, but for the remonstrance of one high-minded n.o.bleman. Lord Carmarthen, afterwards Duke of Leeds, accidentally became aware of the proposed ma.s.sacre, and personally remonstrated with the monarch against a measure which he denounced as at once cruel and impolitic. After much discussion, William, influenced rather by an apprehension that so savage and sweeping an act might prove fatal to his new authority, than by any compunction or impulse of humanity, agreed to recall the general order, and to limit himself, in the first instance, to a single deed of butchery, by way of testing the temper of the nation. Some difficulty seems to have arisen in the selection of the fittest victim. Both Keppoch and Glencoe were named, but the personal rancour of Secretary Dalrymple decided the doom of the latter. The Secretary wrote thus:--"Argyle tells me that Glencoe hath not taken the oath, at which I rejoice. It is a great work of charity to be exact in rooting out that d.a.m.nable set." The final instructions regarding Glencoe, which were issued on 16th January, 1692, are as follows:--

"William R.--As for M'Ian of Glencoe, and that tribe, if they can be well distinguished from the rest of the Highlanders, it will be proper for public justice to extirpate that set of thieves." "W.R."

This letter is remarkable as being signed and countersigned by William alone, contrary to the usual practice. The Secretary was no doubt desirous to screen himself from after responsibility, and was further aware that the royal signature would insure a rigorous execution of the sentence.

Macdonald, or, as he was more commonly designed, M'Ian of Glencoe, was the head of a considerable sept or branch of the great Clan-Coila, and was lineally descended from the ancient Lords of the Isles, and from the royal family of Scotland--the common ancestor of the Macdonalds having espoused a daughter of Robert II. He was, according to a contemporary testimony, "a person of great integrity, honour, good nature, and courage; and his loyalty to his old master, King James, was such, that he continued in arms from Dundee's first appearing in the Highlands, till the fatal treaty that brought on his ruin." In common with the other chiefs, he had omitted taking the benefit of the indemnity until he received the sanction of King James: but the copy of that doc.u.ment which was forwarded to him, unfortunately arrived too late. The weather was so excessively stormy at the time that there was no possibility of penetrating from Glencoe to Inverara, the place where the sheriff resided, before the expiry of the stated period; and M'Ian accordingly adopted the only practicable mode of signifying his submission, by making his way with great difficulty to Fort-William, then called Inverlochy, and tendering his signature to the military Governor there. That officer was not authorised to receive it, but at the earnest entreaty of the chief, he gave him a certificate of his appearance and tender, and on New-Year's day, 1692, M'Ian reached Inverara, where he produced that paper as evidence of his intentions, and prevailed upon the sheriff, Sir James Campbell of Ardkingla.s.s, to administer the oaths required. After that ceremony, which was immediately intimated to the Privy Council, had been performed, the unfortunate gentleman returned home, in the full conviction that he had thereby made peace with government for himself and for his clan. But his doom was already sealed.

A company of the Earl of Argyle's regiment had been previously quartered in Glencoe. These men, though Campbells, and hereditarily obnoxious to the Macdonalds, Camerons, and other of the loyal clans, were yet countrymen, and were kindly and hospitably received. Their captain, Robert Campbell of Glenlyon, was connected with the family of Glencoe through the marriage of a niece, and was resident under the roof of the chief. And yet this was the very troop selected for the horrid service.

Special instructions were sent to the major of the regiment, one Duncanson, then quartered at Ballachulish--a morose, brutal, and savage man--who accordingly wrote to Campbell of Glenlyon in the following terms:--

Ballacholis, 12 _February_, 1692.

"SIR,--You are hereby ordered to fall upon the rebels, the M'Donalds of Glencoe, and putt all to the sword under seventy. You are to have special care that the old fox and his sons doe upon no account escape your hands. You are to secure all the avenues, that no man escape. This you are to put in execution att five o'clock in the morning precisely, and by that time, or very shortly after it, I'll strive to be att you with a stronger party. If I doe not come to you at five, you are not to tarry for me, but to fall on. This is by the king's speciall command, for the good and safety of the country, that these miscreants be cutt off root and branch. See that this be putt in execution without feud or favour, else you may expect to be treated as not true to the king's government, nor a man fitt to carry a commission in the king's service. Expecting you will not faill in the fulfilling hereof as you love yourself, I subscribe these with my hand." ROBERT DUNCANSON.

"_For their Majestys' service.

To Captain Robert Campbell of Glenlyon_."

This order was but too literally obeyed. At the appointed hour, when the whole inhabitants of the glen were asleep, the work of murder began.

M'Ian was one of the first who fell. Drummond's narrative fills up the remainder of the dreadful story.

"They then served all within the family in the same manner, without distinction of age or person. In a word--for the horror of that execrable butchery must give pain to the reader--they left none alive but a young child, who, being frightened with the noise of the guns, and the dismal shrieks and cries of its dying parents, whom they were a-murdering, got hold of Captain Campbell's knees, and wrapt itself within his cloak; by which, chancing to move compa.s.sion, the captain inclined to have saved it, but one Drummond, an officer, arriving about the break of day with more troops, commanded it to be shot by a file of musqueteers. Nothing could be more shocking and horrible than the prospect of these houses bestrewed with mangled bodies of the dead, covered with blood, and resounding with the groans of wretches in the last agonies of life.

"Two sons of Glencoe's were the only persons that escaped in that quarter of the country; for, growing jealous of some ill designs from the behaviour of the soldiers, they stole from their beds a few minutes before the tragedy began, and, chancing to overhear two of them discoursing plainly of the matter, they endeavoured to have advertised their father, but, finding that impracticable, they ran to the other end of the country and alarmed the inhabitants. There was another accident that contributed much to their safety; for the night was so excessively stormy and tempestuous, that four hundred soldiers, who were appointed to murder these people, were stopped in their march from Inverlochy, and could not get up till they had time to save themselves. To cover the deformity of so dreadful a sight, the soldiers burned all the houses to the ground, after having rifled them, carried away nine hundred cows, two hundred horses, numberless herds of sheep and goats, and every thing else that belonged to these miserable people. Lamentable was the case of the women and children that escaped the butchery; the mountains were covered with a deep snow, the rivers impa.s.sable, storm and tempest filled the air and added to the horrors and darkness of the night, and there were no houses to shelter them within many miles."[1]

Such was the awful ma.s.sacre of Glencoe, an event which has left an indelible and execrable stain upon the memory of William of Orange. The records of Indian warfare can hardly afford a parallel instance of atrocity: and this deed, coupled with his deliberate treachery in the Darien scheme, whereby Scotland was for a time absolutely ruined, is sufficient to account for the little estimation in which the name of the "great Whig deliverer" is still regarded in the valleys of the North.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: _Memoirs of Sir Ewen Cameron of Locheill_.]

THE WIDOW OF GLENCOE

Do not lift him from the bracken, Leave him lying where he fell-- Better bier ye cannot fas.h.i.+on: None beseems him half so well As the bare and broken heather, And the hard and trampled sod, Whence his angry soul ascended To the judgment-seat of G.o.d!

Winding-sheet we cannot give him-- Seek no mantle for the dead, Save the cold and spotless covering Showered from heaven upon his head.

Leave his broadsword, as we found it, Bent and broken with the blow, That, before he died, avenged him On the foremost of the foe.

Leave the blood upon his bosom-- Wash not off that sacred stain: Let it stiffen on the tartan, Let his wounds unclosed remain, Till the day when he shall show them At the throne of G.o.d on high, When the murderer and the murdered Meet before their Judge's eye!

Nay--ye should not weep, my children!

Leave it to the faint and weak; Sobs are but a woman's weapon-- Tears befit a maiden's cheek.

Weep not, children of Macdonald!

Weep not thou, his orphan heir-- Not in shame, but stainless honour, Lies thy slaughtered father there.

Weep not--but when years are over, And thine arm is strong and sure, And thy foot is swift and steady On the mountain and the muir-- Let thy heart be hard as iron, And thy wrath as fierce as fire, Till the hour when vengeance cometh For the race that slew thy sire; Till in deep and dark Glenlyon Rise a louder shriek of woe Than at midnight, from their eyrie, Scared the eagles of Glencoe; Louder than the screams that mingled With the howling of the blast, When the murderer's steel was clas.h.i.+ng, And the fires were rising fast; When thy n.o.ble father bounded To the rescue of his men, And the slogan of our kindred Pealed throughout the startled glen; When the herd of frantic women Stumbled through the midnight snow, With their fathers' houses blazing, And their dearest dead below.

Oh, the horror of the tempest, As the flas.h.i.+ng drift was blown, Crimsoned with the conflagration, And the roofs went thundering down!

Oh, the prayers--the prayers and curses That together winged their flight From the maddened hearts of many Through that long and woeful night!

Till the fires began to dwindle, And the shots grew faint and few, And we heard the foeman's challenge Only in a far halloo; Till the silence once more settled O'er the gorges of the glen, Broken only by the Cona Plunging through its naked den.

Slowly from the mountain-summit Was the drifting veil withdrawn, And the ghastly valley glimmered In the gray December dawn.

Better had the morning never Dawned upon our dark despair!

Black amidst the common whiteness Rose the spectral ruins there: But the sight of these was nothing More than wrings the wild dove's breast, When she searches for her offspring Round the relics of her nest.

For in many a spot the tartan Peered above the wintry heap, Marking where a dead Macdonald Lay within his frozen sleep.

Tremblingly we scooped the covering From each kindred victim's head, And the living lips were burning On the cold ones of the dead.

And I left them with their dearest-- Dearest charge had everyone-- Left the maiden with her lover, Left the mother with her son.

I alone of all was mateless-- Far more wretched I than they, For the snow would not discover Where my lord and husband lay.

But I wandered up the valley Till I found him lying low, With the gash upon his bosom, And the frown upon his brow-- Till I found him lying murdered Where he wooed me long ago.

Woman's weakness shall not shame me; Why should I have tears to shed?

Could I rain them down like water, O my hero, on thy head, Could the cry of lamentation Wake thee from thy silent sleep, Could it set thy heart a-throbbing, It were mine to wail and weep.

But I will not waste my sorrow, Lest the Campbell women say That the daughters of Clanra.n.a.ld Are as weak and frail as they.

I had wept thee hadst thou fallen, Like our fathers, on thy s.h.i.+eld, When a host of English foemen Camped upon a Scottish field; I had mourned thee hadst thou perished With the foremost of his name, When the valiant and the n.o.ble Died around the dauntless Graeme.

But I will not wrong thee, husband!

With my unavailing cries, Whilst thy cold and mangled body, Stricken by the traitor, lies; Whilst he counts the gold and glory That this hideous night has won, And his heart is big with triumph At the murder he has done.

Other eyes than mine shall glisten, Other hearts be rent in twain, Ere the heathbells on thy hillock Wither in the autumn rain.

Then I'll seek thee where thou sleepest, And I'll veil my weary head, Praying for a place beside thee, Dearer than my bridal-bed: And I'll give thee tears, my husband, If the tears remain to me, When the widows of the foemen Cry the coronach for thee.

THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS

In consequence of a capitulation with Government, the regular troops who had served under Lord Dundee were trans.h.i.+pped to France, and, immediately upon their landing, the officers and others had their rank confirmed according to the tenor of the commissions and characters which they bore in Scotland. They were distributed throughout the different garrisons in the north of France, and, though nominally in the service of King James, derived their whole means of subsistence from the bounty of the French monarch. So long as it appeared probable that another descent was meditated, those gentlemen, who were almost without exception men of considerable family, a.s.sented to this arrangement, but the destruction of the French fleet under Admiral Tourville, off La Hogue, led to a material change in their views. After that naval engagement it became obvious that the cause of the fugitive King was in the mean time desperate, and the Scottish officers, with no less gallantry than honour, volunteered a sacrifice which, so far as I know, has hardly been equalled.

The old and interesting pamphlet written by one of the corps,[2] from which I have extracted most of the following details, but which is seldom perused except by the antiquary, states that, "The Scottish officers, considering that, by the loss of the French Fleet, King James's restoration would be r.e.t.a.r.ded for some time, and that they were burdensome to the King of France, being entertained in garrisons on whole pay, without doing duty, when he had almost all Europe in confederacy against him, therefore humbly entreated King James to have them reduced into a company of private sentinels, and choose officers amongst themselves to command them, a.s.suring his majesty that they would serve in the meanest circ.u.mstances, and undergo the greatest hards.h.i.+ps and fatigues that reason could imagine, or misfortunes inflict, until it pleased G.o.d to restore him. King James commended their generosity and loyalty, but disapproved of what they proposed, and told them it was impossible that gentlemen who had served in so honourable posts as formerly they had enjoyed, and lived in so great plenty and ease, could ever undergo the fatigue and hards.h.i.+ps of private sentinels' duty.

Again, that his own first command was a company of officers, whereof several died, others, wearied with fatigue, drew their discharges, till at last it dwindled into nothing, and he got no reputation by the command: therefore he desired them to insist no more on that project.

The officers (notwithstanding his majesty's desire to the contrary) made several interests at court, and hara.s.sed him so much, that at last he condescended," and appointed those who were to command them.

Shortly afterwards the new corps was reviewed for the first and last time by the unfortunate James in the gardens of Saint Germains, and the tears are said to have gushed from his eyes at the sight of so many brave men, reduced, through their disinterested and persevering loyalty, to so very humble a condition. "Gentlemen," said he, "my own misfortunes are not so nigh my heart as yours. It grieves me beyond what I can express to see so many brave and worthy gentlemen, who had once the prospect of being the chief officers in my army, reduced to the stations of private sentinels. Nothing but your loyalty, and that of a few of my subjects in Britain, who are forced from their allegiance by the Prince of Orange, and who, I know, will be ready on all occasions to serve me and my distressed family, could make me willing to live. The sense of what all of you have done and undergone for your loyalty hath made so deep an impression upon my heart, that, if it ever please G.o.d to restore me, it is impossible I can be forgetful of your services and sufferings.

Neither can there be any posts in the armies of my dominions but what you have just pretensions to. As for my son, your Prince, he is of your own blood, a child capable of any impression, and, as his education will be from you, it is not supposable that he can forget your merits. At your own desires you are now going a long march far distant from me.

Fear G.o.d and love one another. Write your wants particularly to me, and depend upon it always to find me your parent and King." The scene bore a strong resemblance to one which many years afterwards occurred at Fontainebleau. The company listened to his words with deep emotion, gathered round him, as if half repentant of their own desire to go, and so parted, for ever on this earth, the dethroned monarch and his exiled subjects.

The number of this company of officers was about one hundred and twenty: their destination was Perpignan in Rousillon, close upon the frontier of Spain, where they were to join the army under the command of the Mareschal de Noailles. Their power of endurance, though often most severely tested in an unwholesome climate, seems to have been no less remarkable than their gallantry, which upon many occasions called forth the warm acknowledgment of the French commanders. "_Le gentilhomme_,"

said one of the generals, in acknowledgment of their readiness at a peculiarly critical moment, "_est toujours gentilhomme, et se montre toujours tel dans besoin et dans le danger_"--a eulogy as applicable to them as it was in later days to La Tour d'Auvergne, styled the first grenadier of France. At Perpignan they were joined by two other Scottish companies, and the three seem to have continued to serve together for several campaigns.

As a proof of the estimation in which they were held, I shall merely extract a short account of the taking of Rosas in Catalonia, before referring to the exploit which forms the subject of the following ballad. "On the 27th of May, the company of officers and other Scottish companies, were joined by two companies of Irish, to make up a battalion in order to mount the trenches; and the major part of the officers listed themselves in the company of grenadiers, under the command of the brave Major Rutherford, who, on his way to the trenches, in sight of Mareschal de Noailles and his court, marched with his company on the side of the trench, which exposed him to the fire of a bastion, where there were two culverins and several other guns planted; likewise to the fire of two curtins lined with small shot. Colonel Brown, following with the battalion, was obliged, in honour, to march the same way Major Rutherford had done; the danger whereof the Mareschal immediately perceiving, ordered one of his aides-de-camp to command Rutherford to march under cover of the trench, which he did; and if he had but delayed six minutes, the grenadiers and battalion had been cut to pieces.

Rutherford, with his grenadiers, marched to a trench near the town, and the battalion to a trench on the rear and flank of the grenadiers, who fired so incessantly on the besieged, that they thought (the trench being practicable) they were going to make their attacks, immediately beat a chamade, and were willing to give up the town upon reasonable terms: but the Mareschal's demands were so exorbitant, that the Governor could not agree to them. Then firing began on both sides to be very hot; and they in the town, seeing how the grenadiers lay, killed eight of them. When the Governor surrendered the town, he inquired of the Mareschal what countrymen these grenadiers were; and a.s.sured him it was on their account he delivered up the town, because they fired so hotly, that he believed they were resolved to attack the breach. He answered, smiling, _'Ces sont mes enfants_--They are my children.' Again; 'they are the King of Great Britain's Scottish officers, who, to show their willingness to share of his miseries, have reduced themselves to the carrying of arms, and chosen to serve under my command.' The next day, when the Mareschal rode along the front of the camp, he halted at the company of the officers' piquet, and they all surrounded him. Then, with his hat in his hand, he thanked them for their good services in the trenches, and freely acknowledged it was their conduct and courage which compelled the Governor to give up the town; and a.s.sured them he would acquaint his master with the same, which he did. For when his son arrived with the news at Versailles, the King, having read the letter, immediately took coach to St. Germains; and when he had shown King James the letter, he thanked him for the services his subjects had done in taking Rosas in Catalonia; who, with concern, replied, they were the stock of his British officers, and that he was sorry he could not make better provision for them."

And a miserable provision it was! They were gradually compelled to part with every remnant of the property which they had secured from the ruins of their fortunes; so that when they arrived, after various adventures, at Scelestat, in Alsace, they were literally without the common means of subsistence. Famine and the sword had, by this time, thinned their ranks, but had not diminished their spirit, as the following narrative of their last exploit will show:--