The Patriot (39 page)

"Tweeddale," he called, to the Chancellor, "our trap is sprung! And
has caught the fox! MacI
an is dead, and his brood with him. A notable blow struck for the welfare of the realm."

"MacI
an
..
.
dead!
"
The Chancellor stared. "Dead, you say - and others with him? But - how, man? How? What happened?"

"What happened? Why, they paid the price of rebellion, that is what happened. So perish all the King's enemies, I say."

"There has been a fight? Some battle . . . ?"

"Not that I am informed. This letter is from Glenlyon. He says nothing of any fighting. Merely that he has carried out his inst
ructions. That all is well. MacI
an of Glencoe, and sundry of his barbarous tribe of Hieland scum, are dead - and Scotland is the better place for lack of them!"

All were gazing at him now.

"Dead! Slain, then?" Tweeddale's voice quivered a little. He was made of different stuff from Dalrymple. "Was, was this . . . necessary, John?"

"Entirely," the Secretary of State said crisply. "An example had to be made. Or these Hieland Jacobites would be ever at our throats and a danger to the King's Grace. This way we avoid
real
bloodshed. Avoid any more Jacobite risings, battles and many honest men being slain. The other chiefs will thus learn their lesson, I have no doubt. Old Glencoe and his MacDonalds are small price to pay for peace in the North."

Into the silence that followed, Andrew spoke. "Master of Stair - are we hearing aright
? Are we to understand that MacI
an of Glencoe, that old man, and a number of his MacDonald people, have been slain? Not in battle but in cold blood? By Campbell of Glenlyon - acting on instructions?"

"As to cold blood, I know not, Fletcher. But they have paid the penalty, yes - for rebellion. For having failed to take the due oath of allegiance to King William in the prescribed time. They all had ample warning. So no one is to
blame save MacI
an himself."

"But - good Lord, man, this is unbelievable! Are you telling us that the Campbells had
orders
to murder the old chief, his family and his clansfolk?"

"I do not like your choice of words, sir! Murder is quite ridiculous. That rebels and traitors pay for their misdeeds at the hands of the King's militia is no murder. But necessary justice. For the benefit of the entire realm."

"Without trial? At the hands of Campbells, hereditary enemies of the MacDonalds. You, a lawyer yourself and son of the chiefest judge of this kingdom, say that?"

"I do, sir. And say, also, that you, Fletcher, should not meddle in matters of which you know nothing and have no least responsibility. Your understanding of the law of the land has in the past proved . . . lacking!"

"I am a free citizen of this realm and again a commissioner to its parliament - however unworthy. I am entitled, indeed in duty bound, to seek to see the law upheld. By whomsoever. On whose orders and instructions were these people slain?"

"On the King's, sir. And on mine, as Secretary of State. On his Grace's personal and written directive."

That silenced even Andrew Fletcher for the moment. All there knew that the simmering Jacobite revolt in the North worried the government; and after the Battles of Killiecrankie and Cromdale, although the clan army had dispersed, its cause was by no means abandoned. In an attempt to pacify the Highlands a proclamation had been issued offering free pardon and indemnity to all chiefs and leading men who would take the oath of allegiance, before their local sheriffs, prior to the last day of 1691. At first few did so; then word arrived from James in France, now broken in resolve and health, that they should all do so and suffer no more on his lost behalf. Most had then made their token
submission. But apparently MacI
an, chief of the MacDonalds of Glen Coe, had delayed.

Chancellor Tweeddale was clearly unhappy. "I knew nothing of this," he disclaimed. "I, I could not have approved it. I should have been informed. How many? How many died?"

"Glenlyon's mess
age does not say. Only that MacI
an and sundry of his tribe are dead."

"May we ask what were Glenlyon's orders?" Andrew said,

"Has he exceeded them? Or is this, this massacre, as
you
instructed, Master of Stair?"

"I am not responsible to such as you, Fletcher, to give account of my actions. Nor indeed, even to you, my lord Chancellor. I remind all that I am the
King's
Secretary of State, not Parliament's. I take my instructions from His Grace - and His Grace's orders were to extirpate that sect of thieves. Those were his actual written words. The King's command has been carried out, it seems. If you have quarrel with it, gentlemen, then your quarrel is with the King's Grace, not with me." And narrow-eyed, the Master looked round the company, threat scarcely veiled.

Andrew Fletcher's temper was ever apt to rise to threats. "And is the King's Grace above the law?" he demanded. "My lord Viscount Stair, as senior lawyer here, can you tell us that?"

The elder Dalrymple was in no hurry to answer. He toyed with his wine-glass. "The monarch is not above the law, no. In
this
realm. But he is, shall we say, the law's ultimate interpreter and guardian. If he so interprets the law, for the best benefit of his subjects as a whole, then to challenge it would be . . . difficult."

"Difficult or no, I
challenge it! As must all here, if we value our honour. I conceived William of Orange to be an honourable man - even though, like others, he can act mistakenly. But this - this is beyond all bearing. Execution without trial, without legal sanction, of a group of the King's subjects, in time of peace, Scots people - on the orders of a man who has never so much as set foot in Scotland . . . !"

"On the orders of the lawful King of Scots, sirrah!" the Secretary cried. "I advise you to watch your words! Which verge upon treason, sir - treason!"

There was uproar round that table now, men rising, exclaiming, gesticulating. Patrick Polwarth and Johnnie Belhaven sought to calm their friend's guests, but the matter had gone too far for that. John Dalrymple was declaring that he could no longer remain in this disloyal and seditious house; and various others took their prudent cue from him.

So the gathering broke up in disorder, with some agreeing and commiserating with their host, others arguing amongst
themselves, some hurrying off to collect their wives.

"I am sorry about this," Polwarth said to his friend. "After so successful an evening, over Paterson's ploy. And your good hospitality. You will have to watch for John Dalrymple, mind, Andrew. He could make a bad enemy."

"I would rather have that one as enemy than as friend!"

"Perhaps. But he could be dangerous. He has William's ear, and the power that goes with it."

"I shall watch him, never fear. Now that we see how he uses his power! But
-
it is Mr. Paterson, here, whom I am sorry for
-
since it is too late to be sorry for the MacDonalds! This is an ill ending to the night's business, Will."

"None so ill. This trouble does not affect my project. And I have notes-of-hand here for over £13,000 sterling-which is no bad start for the company.
Even Dalrymple's own for £500. I
am satisfied, my friend."

***

Strangely enough, the very developments which so dramatically broke up the Darien scheme dinner-party at Saltoun proved, in course of time, in fact to aid it. As the details of what became known as the Massacre of Glencoe were disclosed, the repercussions reverberated far and wide, not only in Scotland but down in London and indeed over the Channel, where William was, as so often, campaigning against the French 'Grand Monarch' and Louis the Fourteenth's visions of hegemony. And William perceived that he had made an error of judgment.

It transpired that the entire Glencoe episode had been even more reprehensible than it had sounded that night at Saltoun. The old chief, Maclan, had indeed gone in time to register his oath of allegiance, at the new fort at Invergarry, which General Mackay had built to try to overawe the Jacobites of the Lochaber area, and was being called Fort William. He arrived there with a day or two to spare before the year's end; but there proved to be none there who would accept his oath, commandant or magistrate, and he was directed to proceed to the Campbell seat of Inveraray, nearly one hundred miles south-eastwards across the snow-covered mountains, where the
sheriff, a Campbell, was domiciled. In grimmest winter weather it took Maclan six days to reach Inveraray. His oath was accepted nevertheless, although thus late, and he returned to his glen and his own people, assuming that all was in order. Just under a month later, the militia colonel, Campbell of Glenlyon, had arrived at Glencoe with a company of one hundred and twenty men, announcing however that he had come in all friendship - despite being a hereditary enemy of the MacDonalds - and requesting permission to lodge and shelter his force amongst the glen's folk during this savage spell of weather, before proceeding on northwards to collect arrears of cess and hearth-money, a new tax the government was imposing. Highland hospitality demanded that, once accepted as guests, they be kindly treated; and in fact the militiamen stayed a fortnight with their hosts, billeted in the cottages and cabins, Glenlyon in Maclan's own house. Early in the morning of 13th February, the grim order was given. Men, women and children were to be slain, without exception, there and then, in their own houses. The Secretary of State's instructions were that the government was not to be troubled with pri
soners. The butchery began. MacI
an was shot in his bed, and his elderly wife stripped naked and so maltreated that she died the next day. Pickets had been sent to close both ends of the narrow Pass of Glencoe to prevent any escape, for such as might manage to get out of their homes and away. In driving snow some did make good their escape, directly over the icebound mountains, although others died in the attempt. But over thirty had been shot, stabbed or bayoneted to death.

When all this became known, even the normally uncaring and self-concerned were shocked. In general, the Lowlanders looked upon the Highlanders as barbarians, all but savages, partly because they spoke the Gaelic instead of good Scots Doric. But such deceit and treacherous wholesale slaughter appalled. Even in England the thing raised eyebrows, Catholics especially protesting, and everywhere James and the Jacobite cause gained by the revulsion.

So William perceived his mistake, as reports of anger, unrest and blame reached him. In May the English naval victory of La Hogue enabled him to return to London, temporarily, and he
consulted with his ministers, 'Cardinal' Carstairs and even sent for Gilbert Burnet. Thereafter he issued a statement announcing that he had been badly served by his Scottish advisers, in especial his Secretary of State, denied any personal involvement and threw the whole responsibility upon John Dalrymple, whom he declared as dismissed from his office.

In Scotland there was much agitation, Andrew Fletcher to the fore. He urged the recall of Parliament. But this required the King's sanction and would obviously not be in William's interest meantime. Nothing was done. He then led the demand for the arrest and trial of the Master of Stair, declaring that dismissal from his position was utterly insufficient retribution. In this he was joined, amongst others, by Sir James Montgomery, who now issued from his sulking retirement in Ayrshire again to take part in affairs - possibly hoping for the vacant Secretaryship of State, out of which Dalrymple had earlier manoeuvred him. But he still found no favour in William's sight, any more than did Andrew, and the King appointed a little-known individual, by the name of James Johnston, to act as Secretary in the interim - it was widely believed merely as a stop-gap to keep the seat warm for Dalrymple who would be reinstated when the fuss had died down. Certainly all attempts to bring the Master to trial, along with Glenlyon and his chief, the Campbell Earl of Breadalbane, came to nothing, the general opinion being that William's own implication must then be made public.

However, unsatisfactory as all this was, the King did find a way of placating Scottish opinion. He smiled kindly upon William Paterson and his Darien project, giving him the charter he required and even encouraging him, and the Scots, in the idea of a new colony. Admittedly this cost William nothing and might well bring him profit; but it did please opinion north of the Border.

So the great subscription campaign was launched - and, since Paterson had to spend much of his time in London, concerned also with the contemporaneous launching of the new Bank of England project, Andrew found himself more or less leading the effort, with assistance from others, notably Johnnie Belhaven. It was remarkable how enthusiasm for the
scheme grew and developed, even though at this stage nothing was being said about any possible canal, even the porterage prospects not being emphasised lest envious hostility be aroused outwith Scotland. The enthusiasm was for an overseas colony which Scotland could call her own. If this might seem a strange source of satisfaction for the Scots, it had to be remembered how successful had been the English colonial ventures, since Elizabeth Tudor's time, how enormous the riches which had accrued, what fortune-spinners were the East India and Africa Companies and how jealously the English guarded their trade monopolies, their various Navigation Acts prohibiting commerce with any of their colonies save by English merchants, all goods entering or leaving the colonial ports to be carried only in English ships. Small Scots enclaves had been established for nearly a century in Nova Scotia and the Carolinas; but the actual territories belonged to England and the prohibitions applied there also, the Scots settlers being treated very much as second-class citizens. So the idea of establishing their own crown-colony in the Americas appealed to almost all, as a matter of national pride as well as profit - and it was assumed that the profits would be no less great than those coming from the renowned English, Dutch, Spanish, French and Portuguese dependences.