III DISPERSING THE CONVENTICLERS

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By the end of 1678 Claverhouse was at Moffat, expecting to be joined by one of the newly-levied troops of dragoons—that under Captain Inglis. From that town he forwarded to the Earl of Linlithgow, Commander-in-chief of the King’s forces, the first of a series of despatches which contain a precise and detailed account of his movements at this time. As indicating the spirit in which he had undertaken the duties assigned to him, and the strict and literal obedience to orders that characterised his execution of them, the document is both interesting and valuable. It is dated the 28th of December, and runs as follows:—

‘My Lord,—I came here last night with the troop, and am just going to march for Dumfries, where I resolve to quarter the whole troop. I have not heard anything of the dragoons, though it be now about nine o’clock, and they should have been here last night, according to your Lordship’s orders. I suppose they must have taken some other route. I am informed, since I came, that this country has been very loose. On Tuesday was eight days, and Sunday, there were great field-conventicles just by here, with great contempt of the regular clergy, who complain extremely when I tell them I have no orders to apprehend anybody for past misdemeanours. And besides that, all the particular orders I have being contained in that order of quartering, every place where we quarter must see them, which makes them fear the less. I am informed that the most convenient post for quartering the dragoons will be Moffat, Lochmaben and Annan; whereby the whole country may be kept in awe. Besides that, my Lord, they tell me that the end of the bridge of Dumfries is in Galloway; and that they may hold conventicles at our nose and we not dare to dissipate them, seeing our orders confine us to Dumfries and Annandale. Such an insult as that would not please me; and, on the other hand, I am unwilling to exceed orders, so that I expect from your Lordship orders how to carry in such cases. I send this with one of my troop, who is to attend orders till he be relieved. I will send one every Monday, and the dragoons one every Thursday, so that I will have the happiness to give your Lordship account of our affairs twice a week, and your Lordship occasion to send your commands for us as often. In the meantime, my Lord, I shall be doing, according to the instructions I have, what shall be found most advantageous for the King’s service, and most agreeable to your Lordship.—I am, my Lord, your Lordship’s most humble and obedient servant,

J. Grahame.’

‘My Lord, if your Lordship give me any new orders, I will beg they may be kept as secret as possible; and sent to me so suddenly as the information some of the favourers of the fanatics are to send may be prevented, which will extremely facilitate the executing of them.’

On the 6th of January 1679, Claverhouse, now at Dumfries, again addressed a despatch to the Commander. He appears to have, in the meantime, received an explanation of the Council’s intention, and an intimation that his conscientious regard for the exact terms of his commission did not meet with unqualified approval. This may be gathered from the following paragraph in his letter:—

‘My Lord, since I have seen the Act of Council, the scruple I had about undertaking anything without the bounds of these two shires, is indeed frivolous, but was not so before. For if there had been no such Act, it had not been safe for me to have done anything but what my order warranted; and since I knew it not, it was to me the same thing as if it had not been. And for my ignorance of it, I must acknowledge that till now, in any service I have been in, I never enquired farther in the laws, than the orders of my superior officers.’

In another passage, having to report various incidents of recent occurrence, with respect to some of which it was intended to make formal complaint, he again gives proof of his respect for discipline, and manifests his determination not only to enforce it, but also to compensate those upon whom injury might be inflicted by any breach of it on the part of the men under his command. At the same time, he does not hesitate to make it clearly understood that, whilst ready to answer for his own conduct, he repudiates responsibility for the actions of others. His own words are as follows:—

‘On Saturday night, when I came back here, the sergeant who commands the dragoons in the Castle came to see me; and while he was here, they came and told me there was a horse killed just by, upon the street, by a shot from the Castle. I went immediately and examined the guard, who denied point blank that there had been any shot from thence. I went and heard the Bailie take depositions of men that were looking on, who declared, upon oath, that they saw the shot from the guard-hall, and the horse immediately fall. I caused also search for the bullet in the horse’s head, which was found to be of their calibre. After that I found it so clear, I caused seize upon him who was ordered by the sergeant in his absence to command the guard, and keep him prisoner till he find out the man,—which I suppose will be found himself. His name is James Ramsay, an Angusman, who has formerly been a lieutenant of horse, as I am informed. It is an ugly business, for, besides the wrong the poor man has got in losing his horse, it is extremely against military discipline to fire out of a guard. I have appointed the poor man to be here to-morrow, and bring with him some neighbours to declare the worth of the horse, and have assured him to satisfy him if the Captain, who is to be here to-morrow, refuse to do it. I am sorry to hear of another accident that has befallen the dragoons, which I believe your Lordship knows better than I, seeing they say that there is a complaint made of it to your Lordship or the Council; which is, that they have shot a man in the arm with small shot, and disenabled him of it, who had come this length with a horse to carry baggage for some of my officers; but this being before they came to Moffat, does not concern me.

‘The Stewart-Depute, before good company, told me that several people about Moffat were resolved to make a complaint to the Council against the dragoons for taking free quarters; that if they would but pay their horse-corn and their ale, they should have all the rest free; that there were some of the officers that had, at their own hand, appointed themselves locality above three miles from their quarter. I begged them to forbear till the Captain and I should come there, when they should be redressed in everything. Your Lordship will be pleased not to take any notice of this, till I have informed myself upon the place.

‘This town is full of people that have resetted, and lodged constantly in their houses intercommuned persons and field preachers. There are some that absent themselves for fear; and Captain Inglis tells me there are Bailies have absented themselves there at Annan, and desired from me order to apprehend them; which I refused, for they are not included in all the Act of Council. Mr Cupar, who is here Bailie and Stewart for my Lord Stormont, offered to apprehend Bell that built the meeting-house, if I would concur. I said to him that it would be acceptable, but that the order from the Council did only bear the taking up the names of persons accessory to the building of it.’

The meeting-house referred to was situated in the neighbourhood of Castlemilk, and had been built at the expense of the common purse of the disaffected. It is described as a good large house, about sixty feet in length and between twenty and thirty in breadth, with only one door and with two windows at each side, and one at either end. After its purpose had become known to the authorities, it was fitted up with stakes and with a ‘hek’ and manger, to make it pass for a byre. In spite of this, an order for its destruction was issued by the Privy Council, shortly before Claverhouse’s arrival in the district.

The first duty he was called upon to perform was that of supplying the squad that was to serve as an escort to James Carruthers, the Stewart-Depute, who had been commissioned to carry out the order. The dragoons themselves took no part in the actual demolition; but their presence was necessary, not only to overawe resistance, but also to compel the ‘four score of countrymen, all fanatics,’ whom Carruthers brought with him, to pull down the building. ‘The Stewart-Depute,’ Claverhouse reported, ‘performed his part punctually enough. The walls were thrown down, and timber burnt. So perished the charity of many ladies.’

In subsequent despatches Claverhouse gives the most minute particulars as to the manner in which he has carried out his orders for the apprehension of various persons; and does not spare his comments on the lack of adequate support in the discharge of his arduous and ungrateful duties. A point upon which he lays great stress is the insufficiency of the arrangements made for supplying his men with proper quarters and with forage for their horses. He was obliged, he said, to let the dragoons quarter at large; and he was convinced that this was extremely improper at a time when the Council seemed resolved to proceed vigorously against the disaffected. He thought it strange, too, that they who had the honour to serve the King should have to pay more for hay and straw than would be asked from any stranger. He was determined for his part, that his troop should not suffer from the neglect or indifference of the commissioners appointed to treat with him. Though very unwilling to disoblige any gentleman, if his men ran short, he would go to any of the commissioners’ lands that were near, and requisition what was required, offering the current rates in payment. This, he thought, was a step which he was justified in taking, and he was ready to defend his conduct if called upon to do so.

Another serious ground for complaint was the want of proper information. Good intelligence, he said, was the thing most wanted. The outlawed ministers, men like Welsh of Irongray, were preaching within twenty or thirty miles, yet nothing could be done for want of spies to bring timely and trustworthy information concerning their movements. On the other hand, the conventiclers received regular and speedy knowledge of any expedition intended against them. There was reason to suppose that their informants were sometimes the troopers entrusted with orders. Of the treachery of one of these, who did not deliver till the twentieth a despatch dated the fifteenth, he was so convinced that, had it not been for the man’s influential patrons, he would have turned him out of the troop with infamy, instead of merely putting him under arrest. The result of such insufficient and unsatisfactory service was well exemplified in the case of a number of persons whom he had been instructed to seize in Galloway. He had set out the very night he received his orders, and had covered forty miles of country. Of those for whom search was made, only two were apprehended, and that because they refused to take the same precautions as the rest for their safety. ‘The other two Bailies were fled, and their wives lying above the clothes in the bed, and great candles lighted, waiting for the coming of the party, and told them they knew of their coming, and had as good intelligence as they themselves; and that if the other two were seized on, it was their own faults, that would not contribute for intelligence.’

Claverhouse’s complaints produced but slight effect, though they were repeated until he grew weary of making them. Failing to obtain satisfaction, he bluntly declared that he would never solicit more, but that, if the King’s service suffered in consequence, he would let the blame lie where it should.

About this time, however, an important measure, and one which brought down upon him the jealous displeasure of the Marquis of Queensberry, who resented it as an infringement of his rights, was adopted in Claverhouse’s favour. Even if all the magistrates in the disaffected districts had been men of unimpeachable loyalty to the Government, the necessity for obtaining their co-operation would frequently have hampered and delayed the military authorities. But many of them were soon discovered to be lukewarm partisans at best; whilst not a few, if they did not openly side with the conventiclers, aided and abetted them by a deliberate and studied inactivity. To remedy this, and to give Claverhouse freer hand, he was, in March 1679, appointed sheriff-depute of the shires of Dumfries and Wigtown, and also of the stewartries of Annandale and Kirkcudbright. Andrew Bruce of Earlshall, the lieutenant of his own troop of horse, was given him as a colleague. They were not, however, wholly to supersede the sheriffs previously in office, but only to sit with those judges or to supply them in their absence. Moreover, their powers were limited to putting the laws into execution only against withdrawers from the public ordinances, keepers of conventicles, and such as were guilty of disorderly baptisms and marriages, resetting and communing with fugitives, and intercommuned persons and vagrant preachers.

Claverhouse had not been long in the exercise of his twofold duties before he began to realise that his efforts were far from producing the desired results. Not only were conventicles as numerous as before, but there were also signs which convinced him that passive resistance was not all he would soon have to encounter. In a despatch which he wrote from Dumfries on the 21st of April 1679, he informed the Earl of Linlithgow that Mr Welsh was accustoming both ends of the country to face the King’s force, and certainly intended to break out into an open rebellion. In view of this, he pointed out that the arms of the militia in Dumfriesshire as well as in Wigtownshire and Annandale, were in the hands of the country people, though very disaffected; and that those taken from the stewartry were in the custody of the town of Kirkcudbright, the most irregular place in the kingdom. He consequently suggested that they should be entrusted to his keeping, and also that his own men should be provided with more suitable weapons, those which they had got from the Castle being worth nothing.

A few days later, Lord Ross, writing from Lanark, conveyed a similar warning. He could learn nothing, he said, but of an inclination to rise, although there were none yet actually in arms. This was on the 2nd of May. On the 5th he forwarded another despatch in which he had to report an encounter between a small party of troopers and some peasants of the district. The soldiers had been sent out to apprehend a man who was reported to have in his possession some of the ‘new-fashioned arms,’ that is, halberts which were provided with a cleek, or crooked knife, for the purpose of cutting the dragoons’ bridles, and of which the manufacture was in itself an indication of what was intended. After seizing the young fellow, who did not deny that he had been enlisted as one of those who were to defend the conventicles in arms, the troopers, instead of returning with their prisoner stabled their horses and fell a-drinking. Some of the neighbours, availing themselves of the opportunity, attacked them with forks, and the like, and wounded one of them ‘very desperately ill.’

The next day Claverhouse also forwarded his report from Dumfries. It contained, in addition to an account of his own movements, the following comment on orders which he had just received, and which indicated that the Earl of Linlithgow was also alive to the dangers of the situation:—

‘My Lord, I have received an order yesterday from your Lordship, which I do not know how to go about on a sudden, as your Lordship seems to expect. For I know not what hand to turn to, to find those parties that are in arms. I shall send out to all quarters, and establish spies; and shall endeavour to engage them Sunday next, if it be possible. And if I get them not here, I shall go and visit them in Teviotdale or Carrick; where they say, they dare look honest men in the face.’

On the 3rd of May, a few days before Lord Ross and Claverhouse drew up their respective reports, there had happened an event which was destined to bring matters to an immediate crisis, and which proved the signal for another, and a far more serious rising than that of 1666. James Sharp, Archbishop of St Andrews and Primate of Scotland, was murdered on Magus Muir, by a party of Covenanters.

Of this terrible tragedy, each side has its own account. On the one hand, there is that which is based on the narrative subsequently drawn up by Russell, one of the leading actors in it. According to this version, no premeditation existed on the part of the nine men concerned. They were in search of William Carmichael, the Sheriff-depute of Fifeshire, a man who had made himself obnoxious by the unrelenting severity which he displayed in carrying out the laws against the Covenanters. Having missed him, they were about to separate, when information was brought them that Sharp’s carriage was approaching. Interpreting this into ‘a clear call from God to fall upon him,’ they there and then resolved ‘to execute the justice of God upon him for the innocent blood he had shed.’

But if the Archbishop’s murder was not determined upon until the actual moment when circumstances cast him into the hands of his enemies, Russell’s account shows that it had been discussed a short time prior to its perpetration. He states that, on the 11th of April, a meeting was held to consider what course should be taken with Carmichael to scare him from his cruel courses; that it was decided to fall upon him at St Andrews; and that when ‘some objected, what if he should be in the prelate’s house, what should be done in such a case, all present judged duty to hang both over the post, especially the Bishop, it being by many of the Lord’s people and ministers judged a duty long since, not to suffer such a person to live, who had shed and was shedding so much of the blood of the saints, and knowing that other worthy Christians had used means to get him upon the road before.’ He further represents himself as urging the murder of Sharp, in the course of the hurried consultation held as the primate’s carriage was approaching, on the ground that ‘he had before been at several meetings with several godly men in other places of the kingdom, who not only judged it their duty to take that wretch’s life, and some others, but had essayed it twice before.’

Whilst it would appear from this account that no definite plan had been formed, to be carried out on the 3rd of May, though some of the more desperate of the Covenanters had come to a general understanding not to neglect any favourable opportunity ‘to execute the justice of God’ upon the wretch whom the Lord delivered into their hands, the other version, accepting the official narrative published immediately after the murder, asserts a distinct and premeditated purpose on the part of the assassins. It founds this on the ‘informations’ which were sent from St Andrews to the Privy Council, and which purported to embody the evidence of persons alleged to have been in communication with the men who perpetrated the crime.

In these it was stated that his Grace was waylaid by divers parties and could not escape, whether he went straight to St Andrews or repaired to his house at Scotscraig; that three days before the murder, several of those concerned in it met in Magask, at the house of John Miller, one of the witnesses, where they concerted the business; that the next night they put up with Robert Black, another witness, whose wife was a great instigator of the deed; that at parting, when one of them kissed her, the woman prayed that God might bless and prosper them, adding, ‘if long Leslie’—the episcopalian minister of Ceres—‘be with him, lay him on the green also,’ to which the favoured individual whom she more particularly addressed, holding up his hand, answered, ‘this is the hand that shall do it’; and that further, on the morning of the 3rd of May, the nine men followed the coach for a considerable distance, intending to attack it, first on the heath to the south of Ceres, and then at the double dykes of Magask, though owing to various circumstances, duly detailed, they did not get what seemed an available opportunity of doing so until it reached Magus Muir.

Standing thus, the question of premeditation gave rise to a long and acrimonious controversy in which recriminations and invectives were freely bandied, and which, being characterised, on either side, rather by a determination to uphold a preconceived opinion than by a desire to arrive at the plain truth, naturally led to no satisfactory conclusion.

The murder of Archbishop Sharp was followed by further proclamations against the Covenanters, to whom, as a body, the Government attributed the crime; and the episcopalian agents throughout the country, actuated partly by a desire for revenge, partly by fear for their own safety, displayed increased zeal in carrying out the repressive enactments of the Privy Council. This was met on the other side with corresponding measures for self-defence. Even before the tragedy at Magus Muir, a determination to repel force by force had been noted and reported, and conventicles had ceased to be merely peaceful gatherings of unarmed men. They now began to assume the appearance of military camps, to which the numerous smaller congregations that joined together for mutual protection gave formidable proportions.

That with a view to bringing matters to an issue and saving themselves by a general rising, Balfour and the other outlaws who had fled as he had, for protection, to the west, after the murder of the primate, were further instrumental in stirring up a spirit of rebellion, scarcely admits of doubt, and is, indeed, conceded by Wodrow. But it is probable that they only helped to precipitate what would not long have been delayed under any circumstances, and what Robert Hamilton, brother to the Laird of Preston, and others who, like him, were violently opposed to the indulgence, had for some time been working to bring about. Towards the end of May, these men put forth a manifesto, in which they declared it to be their duty ‘to publish to the world their testimony to the truth and cause which they owned, and against the sins and defections of the times.’

In accordance with this proclamation, they decided that a party of armed men should go to some public place and burn the Acts of Parliament passed since 1660 ‘for overturning the whole covenanted reformation.’ Amongst these was included ‘that presumptuous Act for imposing an holy anniversary day to be kept yearly upon the 29th of May, as a day of rejoicing and thanksgiving for the King’s birth and restoration,’ whereby the appointers had ‘intruded upon the Lord’s prerogative,’ and the observers had ‘given the glory to the creature that is due to our Lord Redeemer, and rejoiced over the setting up an usurping power to the destroying the interest of Christ in the land.’

The 29th of May was at hand; and it was thought fitting that the obnoxious anniversary should witness the public protest and demonstration. Glasgow was the place originally chosen for the ‘declaration and testimony of some of the true Presbyterian party in Scotland,’ and for burning ‘the sinful and unlawful Acts’ passed against them, just as their own ‘sacred covenant’ had been burned. But a considerable number of the royal troops previously quartered in Lanark having been sent up to the city, it was thought prudent to go no nearer to it than Rutherglen. A party of the irreconcilables accordingly marched to the royal burgh. After burning the hated Acts in the bonfire with which the day was being solemnised, they put it out as a further protest against the celebration, publicly read their own declaration and testimony, and affixed a copy of it to the Market Cross.

On that same Thursday, Claverhouse, now at Falkirk, sent the Earl of Linlithgow a despatch containing the following paragraph:—

‘I am certainly informed there is a resolution taken among the Whigs, that eighteen parishes shall meet Sunday next in Kilbride Moor, within four miles of Glasgow. I resolve, though I do not believe it, to advertise my Lord Ross, so that with our joint force we may attack them. They say they are to part no more, but keep in a body.’

At once taking measure to carry out the plan thus indicated, Claverhouse set out for Glasgow. On his way he received information of the proceedings at Rutherglen Cross, and thought it his duty to proceed, with his men, to the scene of the demonstration. The sequel is told in the next despatch to the Earl of Linlithgow:—

Glasgow, June 1st, 1679.

My Lord,—Upon Saturday’s night, when my Lord Rosse came into this place, I marched out; and because of the insolency that had been done two nights before at Ruglen, I went thither, and inquired for the names. So soon as I got them, I sent out parties to seize on them, and found not only three of those rogues, but also an intercommuned minister called King. We had them at Strathaven about six in the morning yesterday; and resolving to convey them to this, I thought that we might make a little tour, to see if we could fall upon a conventicle; which we did little to our advantage. For, when we came in sight of them, we found them drawn up in battle, upon a most advantageous ground, to which there was no coming but through mosses and lakes.

‘They were not preaching, and had got away all their women and children. They consisted of four battalions of foot and all well armed with fusils and pitchforks, and three squadrons of horse. We sent both parties to skirmish; they of foot and we of dragoons: They run for it, and sent down a battalion of foot against them: We sent threescore of dragoons, who made them run shamefully: But, in the end (they perceiving that we had the better of them in skirmish), they resolved a general engagement, and immediately advanced with their foot, the horse following: They came through the loch, and the greatest body of all made up against my troop: We kept our fire till they were within ten pace of us: They received our fire, and advanced to shock: The first they gave us brought down the Cornet Mr Crafford and Captain Bleith: Besides that, with a pitchfork, they made such an opening in my sorrel horse’s belly, that his guts hung out half an ell; and yet he carried me off a mile; which so discouraged our men, that they sustained not the shock, but fell into disorder.

‘Their horse took the occasion of this, and pursued us so hotly that we got no time to rally. I saved the standards; but lost on the place about eight or ten men, besides wounded. But the dragoons lost many more. They are not come easily off on the other side, for I saw several of them fall before we came to the shock. I made the best retreat the confusion of our people would suffer; and am now laying with my Lord Ross. The town of Strathaven drew up as we was making our retreat, and thought of a pass to cut us off; but we took courage and fell on them, made them run, leaving a dozen on the place. What these rogues will do, yet I know not; but the country was flocking to them from all hands. This may be counted the beginning of the rebellion, in my opinion.—I am, my Lord, your Lordship’s most humble servant,

J. Grahame.’

‘My Lord, I am so wearied, and so sleepy, that I have written this very confusedly.’

As to the respective numbers of the combatants engaged in the battle of Drumclog, as it is commonly called from the place near which it was fought, and which Claverhouse forgot to name in his despatch, it is difficult to arrive at a definite conclusion. Russell, who was in the ranks of the Covenanters, sets down the ‘honest party’ as consisting of ‘about fifty horse and about as many guns, and about a hundred and fifty with forks and halberts’; but that is not consistent with the details which he himself gives of the fighting. Sir Walter Scott, who has been followed by most modern writers, computes the forces opposed to Claverhouse at about one thousand, horse and foot, and the regulars at no more than two hundred and fifty. But even this estimate of the latter is probably excessive. In a letter written from Mugdock on the 30th of May, the Marquis of Montrose informed the Earl of Menteith that he had that day met with Claverhouse, who had been sent ‘with his troop and a troop of dragoons, to guard some arms and ammunition transported to this country.’ That may be taken to mean an escort of about two hundred men. But Captain Creichton, who was then serving as a lieutenant under Claverhouse, states that he, with Captain Stewart’s troop of dragoons remained in Glasgow, when his commanding officer set out to enquire into the Rutherglen demonstration; and he adds that those who fought at Drumclog were about one hundred and eighty strong. Apart from the fact that there is no reason for doubting his veracity, the number which he gives exactly agrees with that which may be deduced from the casual reference in Montrose’s letter; and there is, consequently, good reason for accepting it as correct. With regard to the insurgents, it is less easy to make even an approximative calculation. It is generally admitted, however, that they greatly outnumbered their adversaries; and this seems implied by the despatch which Lord Ross forwarded to the commander-in-chief immediately after Claverhouse’s return to Glasgow on the memorable Sunday. ‘Be assured,’ he wrote to the Earl, ‘if they were ten to one, if you command it, we shall be through them if we can.’ Moreover, it is difficult to believe that the Covenanting forces could have increased to some six thousand within a week after Drumclog, as Hamilton, one of their leaders, boasts they did, if, on the 1st of June, they numbered no more than the mere handful of Russell’s estimate.

The passage in which Claverhouse mentions the officers killed in the engagement has always been read as referring to only two; and it has caused some surprise that he should have omitted to report the loss of a third, about whose death there cannot be a doubt, and who, moreover, was a kinsman of his—Cornet Graham. Captain Creichton who, it must be remembered, is speaking of a comrade, and whose words alone might be looked upon as absolutely authoritative, states, in his Memoirs, that ‘the rebels finding the cornet’s body, and supposing it to be that of Clavers, because the name of Graham was wrought in the shirt-neck, treated it with the utmost inhumanity; cutting off the nose, picking out the eyes, and stabbing it through in a hundred places.’ Andrew Guild, in his Latin poem, ‘Bellum Bothwellianum,’ records the same barbarity. ‘They laid savage hands on him,’ he says, ‘and mutilated his manly face; having cut off his tongue, his ears, and his hands, they scattered his brains over the rough stones.’ In an old ballad on the Battle of Loudon Hill—another name for the fight of Drumclog—Claverhouse’s cornet and kinsman is twice made to foretell his own death:—

‘I ken I’ll ne’er come back again,
An’ mony mae as weel as me.’

In another Covenanting poem, ‘The Battle of Bothwell Brig,’ Claverhouse is represented as avenging young Graham’s death on the fugitives:—

‘Haud up your hand,’ then Monmouth said;
‘Gie quarters to these men for me;’
But bloody Claver’se swore an oath,
His kinsman death avenged should be.

Russell, too, states that Graham was killed, and refers to the mutilation of the lifeless body, though he accounts for it in a very remarkable way. The passage is as follows: ‘One Graham, that same morning in Strevan his dog was leaping upon him for meat, and he said he would give him none, but he should fill himself of the Whig’s blood and flesh by night; but instead of that, his dog was seen eating his own thrapple (for he was killed), by several; and particularly James Russell after the pursuit, coming back to his dear friend James Dungel, who was severely wounded, asked at some women and men who it was; they told that it was that Graham, and afterwards they got certain word what he said to his dog in Strevan.’

In the face of such evidence, it is hardly possible to deny the actual fact of Graham’s death. Neither can it be looked upon as probable that his kinsman had no knowledge of it when he wrote his despatch. If, therefore, Claverhouse really did omit to report it amongst the other casualties, his silence is difficult to understand. But, it must be pointed out that the whole question may, after all, resolve itself into one of punctuation. The insertion of a single comma makes three persons of ‘the Cornet, Mr Crafford and Captain Bleith.’ A matter so utterly trifling in itself would not be deserving of notice if some of Claverhouse’s irrational detractors, no less than some of his irrational apologists, had not magnified it out of all proportion.

Throughout the engagement Claverhouse made himself conspicuous by his courage, and was exposed to special danger because of the attention which he attracted. One of the Covenanters, a Strathaven man, was subsequently wont to relate that he had concealed himself behind a hillock and fired eight shots at the leader of the royal troops; and it may be assumed that, in those days, want of skill on the part of the marksman was not considered the cause of his failure. It is also stated by De Foe, that William Cleland, who, in later years distinguished himself as a soldier and rose to be Lieutenant-Colonel of the Cameronian regiment, actually succeeded in catching hold of Claverhouse’s bridle, and that the latter had a narrow escape of being taken prisoner. Thanks to his coolness and presence of mind no less than to his good fortune, he left the field unscathed, but only when the discomfiture of his men had become so complete as to render any effort to rally them wholly hopeless. Like them, he galloped back to Strathaven; and local tradition still points out the spot where he shot down one of the townsmen who endeavoured to stay him in his flight. Some accounts relate that on his road he had to pass the house where the outlawed minister King had been left under guard, when the soldiers set out for Drumclog, and that, as he did so, his prisoner of the morning ironically invited him to remain for the afternoon sermon.

Before the engagement, Hamilton, who had assumed the command of the Covenanters, gave out the word that no quarter should be given. In spite of this, five out of seven men who had been captured, were granted their lives and allowed to depart. ‘This,’ writes a contemporary, ‘greatly grieved Mr Hamilton, when he saw some of Babel’s brats spared, after that the Lord had delivered them into their hands, that they might dash them against the stones.’ When he returned from the pursuit of the routed royalists, a discussion had arisen as to the fate of the two remaining prisoners. Hamilton settled it, in so far at least as one of them was concerned, by killing him on the spot. ‘None could blame me,’ he wrote in a letter of justification published five or six years later, ‘to decide the controversy; and I bless the Lord for it to this day.’

Wodrow gives it as ‘the opinion of not a few,’ that if the ‘country men’ had pushed their success, followed their chase, and gone straight to Glasgow that day, they might easily, with the help of the reinforcements that would have come to them on the road, as soon as their success became known, have driven out the garrison, ‘and very soon made a great appearance.’

Without entering into a futile discussion as to what might have happened, it may be pointed out that the actual circumstances of the case scarcely justify so sanguine a view. When Claverhouse and his troopers rode back to Glasgow, they had no certainty that, in the flush of victory, the Covenanters would not continue the pursuit right up to the city, and endeavour to take the fullest advantage of their success. Indeed, the conduct of the royalist officers rather seems to imply that they recognised the possibility of such a course on the part of the enemy, for they caused half the men to stand to their arms all night. If, therefore, the few horsemen on the Covenanting side, who alone could possibly perform the distance of nearly thirty miles before dusk, even on a long June day, had ventured on an attack, it may be believed that they would have met with a reception calculated to make them regret their rashness.

There is no occasion to assume that any reason but that dictated by common prudence induced the foremost of the pursuers to halt at a considerable distance from Glasgow, in order to await the coming of the unmounted men, with such recruits as they might have been able to gather on the way. Statements differ as to the precise place where the greater number of them determined to stay for the night; but Wodrow is probably accurate in saying that they did not press further forward than Hamilton, and that it was from that town they resumed their march on the morrow.

In the meantime Lord Ross and his officers, Major White and Captain Graham, had not been idle. With carts, timber, and such other materials as could be hastily requisitioned, they erected four barricades in the centre of the city, and posted their men behind them to await the expected onset. At daybreak next morning, Creichton, with six dragoons, was sent out to take up his station at a small house which commanded a view of the two approaches to Glasgow, so that he might at once be able to report which of them the Covenanters decided to take. About ten o’clock he saw them advance to the place which he had been instructed to watch, and there, by a most injudicious manoeuvre, divide themselves into two bodies. Of these, one, under Hamilton, marched towards the Gallowgate; whilst the other took a more circuitous road ‘by the Wyndhead and College.’ There may have been a vague intention of taking the military between two fires, but the movements were ill concerted, and resulted in two disjointed attacks, which were both easily repulsed.

As Creichton returned to inform Claverhouse of the enemy’s dispositions, he was followed close to the heels by that detachment which was making for the Gallowgate bridge. When they reached the barricade which had been raised on that side, they were received by Claverhouse and his men with a volley which killed several, and threw the remainder into confusion. The soldiers following up this first advantage, and jumping over the carts that formed the obstruction, then charged the wavering Covenanters, and drove them out of the town. They had time to do this and to return to their original position before those of the ‘country men,’ who had marched round by the north, came down by the High Church and the College. These were allowed to come within pistol shot; and when the soldiers fired into them at such close range, it was with the same effect as before.

The second party was also forced to fall back. They appear to have done so in better order than Hamilton’s men, for they were able to rally in a field behind the High Church, where they remained till five o’clock in the afternoon, unmolested by the soldiers, from whose sight they were concealed, and who, not knowing when they might again be attacked, and fully aware that the majority of the citizens were hostile to them, contented themselves with remaining on the defensive. Prudence prevailed with the Covenanters too, and without making any further attempt to carry the barricade, they retired to Toll Cross Moor. Finding that Claverhouse, who had been informed of the movement, had come out after them, they continued their retreat as far as Hamilton, protecting their rear so effectively with their cavalry, that Graham deemed it advisable to fall back upon Glasgow.

At Drumclog, and subsequently at Glasgow, unforeseen circumstances had imposed a leading and conspicuous part on Claverhouse. The measures which the Government was now called on to adopt for the purpose of quelling an insurrection of formidable proportions, were necessarily of such magnitude, that he naturally fell back to his own subordinate position, that of a captain of dragoons. To represent him as having incurred the displeasure of his chiefs, and as having been superseded in consequence, is contrary to fact, and wholly unfair to him. Proof is at hand that no blame was laid upon him for the defeat of Drumclog. In a letter written by the Council to Lauderdale on the 3rd of June, it was admitted that he had been overpowered by numbers; and six days later, through Lauderdale, the Chancellor conveyed the King’s thanks to Lord Ross and to Claverhouse for their great diligence and care, and his assurance that he would be very mindful of their conduct on all occasions.

Creichton, who did not supply Swift with the materials for his memoirs till many years later, and who, therefore, cannot always be implicitly depended upon as regards details of minor importance, states that the morning after the attack ‘the Government sent orders to Claverhouse to leave Glasgow and march to Stirling.’ But Wodrow, who founds his narrative on letters which he met with in the Council Registers, and which he duly quotes, makes no special reference to Claverhouse. He simply records the fact that ‘my Lord Ross and the rest of the officers of the King’s forces, finding the gathering of the country people growing, and expecting every day considerable numbers to be added to them, and not reckoning themselves able to stand out a second attack, found it advisable to retire eastward.’ He indicates, day by day, the marching and counter-marching of the royalist troops, and narrates all the steps that were taken to bring together a body sufficiently strong to disperse the Covenanting insurgents.

From all this it is evident that there was no room for independent action on the part of Claverhouse from the time of his leaving the West to that of his return to it with the Duke of Monmouth, who had been appointed Commander-in-Chief, and who, on the 22nd of June, encountered the Covenanters at Bothwell Bridge. In the course of the engagement which followed, no opportunity was given him of playing a prominent part. Sir Walter Scott asserts on two different occasions, that the horse were commanded by Claverhouse; and, in his well-known description of the battle, he adds the detail that ‘the voice of Claverhouse was heard, even above the din of conflict, exclaiming to the soldiers—“Kill, kill—no quarter—think of Richard Grahame.”’ The historical truth is, that Claverhouse was simply a captain of horse, as were also the Earl of Home, and the Earl of Airlie, and that he was himself under the command of his kinsman Montrose, Colonel of the Horse Guards. Beyond stating this no accounts of the encounter make any reference to him. In so far as he is personally concerned there is no reason for recalling the incident of the fight which effectively put an end to the Covenanting insurrection. His presence at it is the single, bare fact that requires mention.

There are no official documents extant to enable us to follow Claverhouse’s movements during the period immediately subsequent to Bothwell Bridge. All that has been stated with regard to his doings at this time rests on the authority of Wodrow, who himself admits, though not, it is true, for the purpose of questioning their accuracy, that the traditions embodied in his narrative were vague and uncertain. ‘Everybody must see,’ he says, ‘that it is now almost impossible to give any tolerable view to the reader, of the spulies, depredations and violences committed by the soldiers, under such officers as at that time they had. Multitudes of instances, once flagrant are now at this distance lost; not a few of them were never distinctly known, being committed in such circumstances as upon the matter buried them.’

The order of the Privy Council, in accordance with which Claverhouse again proceeded to the Western Counties, to begin his ‘circuit,’ as Wodrow styles it, a few days after the engagement which had proved so disastrous to the Covenanters has disappeared. It may, however, be assumed that the powers conferred upon him were wide; and there is no reason to suppose that he was instructed to deal leniently with those who had been in arms against the royal troops. Although no proof can be adduced in support of Wodrow’s statement, that Claverhouse ‘could never forgive the baffle he met with at Drumclog, and resolved to be avenged for it’; and although it would be rash to accept, except on the very strongest evidence, the further assertion that he was one of those who solicited Monmouth ‘to ruin the West Country, and burn Glasgow, Hamilton and Strathaven, to kill the prisoners, at least, considerable numbers of them, and to permit the army to plunder the western shires, who, they alleged, had countenanced the rebels,’ the principles which he unhesitatingly set forth in subsequent despatches, and in accordance with which in the following July, he consented to go to London, as an envoy from the Privy Council, to represent to the King the unwisdom of adopting Monmouth’s more conciliatory policy, and of granting the Covenanters favours, ‘to soften the clamour that was made upon the Duke of Lauderdale’s conduct,’ quite justify the assumption that he fully approved of severe measures against the actual rebels, and felt neither scruple nor compunction in carrying them out.

But, when this has been admitted, it is only fair to bear in mind that there were others besides Claverhouse, and ‘more bloody and barbarous than he,’ engaged in the odious work of hunting down and punishing the Bothwell outlaws, and preventing their friends and sympathisers from harbouring and concealing them. If, instead of indiscriminately attributing to him every alleged act of cruelty and rapacity, as partisan writers have not unfrequently done, care had been taken to ascertain whether he was even indirectly concerned in it, and whether he was so circumstanced that he could prevent the perpetration of it, there can be but little doubt that the list of atrocities imputed to him at this date would assume less terrible proportions.

Nor should it be forgotten that many of the instances of severity recorded against Claverhouse, harsh as they may have been, did not go beyond the letter, or, indeed, the spirit of the law. It was his duty to yield implicit obedience to the commands of his superiors. To condemn in him that loyalty which has always been looked upon as the essential quality of a soldier, and to hold him personally responsible for carrying out with all the zeal and energy of his nature the policy of the Government to which he owed allegiance, is inconsistent and unjust.

To object that, even as a soldier, he was not bound to support a cause which he knew to be bad, is to ignore what his very enemies recognised—that he was no reckless and ungodly persecutor of religion, but, on the contrary, a man of deep convictions and of strict, almost puritanical, practice. No estimate of his character can be adequate and impartial, which does not take into account the essential fact that he was as sincere—as fanatical, if the word be insisted upon—as those whom he treated as rebels.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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