Tag Archives: Bonnie Dundee

23rd December 1688……..James II Ships Out to France.

And so the last monarch of the House of Stuart slipped away, without ceremony, on a ship to France and exile. There were few to witness his supine departure and Bonnie Dundee was not among them. The newly ennobled Viscount had taken his final leave of the King some days previously prior to James embarking on the barge at Whitehall that would transfer him to his final departure point.

James slips away from London on 18th December, heading for the coast.

James slips away from London on 18th December, heading for the coast.

During this exchange Dundee had brought to bear his not inconsiderable powers of persuasion in an effort to persuade James to remain and lead the fight to overturn his unlawful usurpation from the throne by William of Orange. However, this king had never been a man to bend his shoulder to the wheel of personal effort. And faced with a choice between maintaining, after a fashion, his regal court in exile, or the uncertainty and rough life of a counter-usurper he jumped on his boat and fled.

James heads into exile.

James heads for France and exile.

The only historical mark surviving from his precipitate flight is a blue plaque on the wall of the house where he spent his last night in his kingdom and a personal note he left outlining his grievances at the way matters had developed: a prolonged whinge about what was said and done by those who had schemed to bring about his replacement which does nothing to enhance history’s view of his shortcomings as a man and a monarch.

Plaque at the house in Rochester where James spent the night before sailing for France

Plaque at the house in Rochester where James spent the night before sailing for France

From the moment William had stepped ashore at Torbay in November with 21,000 troops behind him, support for James had gradually ebbed away. By the time that the single military action of the campaign was fought at Reading on 9th December , all was done and dusted. A combination of naked self-interest on the part of English and Scottish nobility and lack-lustre leadership from James had served the crown to William and his soon-to-be co-Ruler Anne, on the proverbial silver platter.

James' letter, intended for public consumption, comprising his list of whinges

James’ letter, intended for public consumption, comprising his list of whinges

A week before James’ final departure he had made an initial effort to flee to France. As in most of his kingly endeavours during his reign, he made a hash of it and had been compelled to return to London somewhat shamefacedly. It was at this point, 17th December, the day before he jumped onto his barge to head to Dover that he had a final conference with the last remaining men of substance that he had around him.

Engaged in a conference in Whitehall with various motley individuals who sought to give him false assurances, he withdrew out to the Mall, summoning with him, Viscount Dundee and Colin Lindsay, 3rd Earl of Balcarres.  The three men walked awhile and discussed the stark reality of the position.

We have no firm record of this conversation. James, it appears, was determined to flee, fearing that his life was in danger. Both Dundee and Balcarres would have sought to persuade him that if he was going to depart his capital that he should head north to Scotland where firm cause could be made. Their efforts were unsuccessful. Promising to send from France royal commissions for both men to drive his affairs civil and military, he then took his final leave of them.

At this very moment William was arriving in west London at the home of the Countess of Northumberland. The following day with James now gone, he took up quarters in St James’Palace.  On its military side, the Revolution was now accomplished.

 

 

 

 

 

21 August 1689, the Battle of Dunkeld: the end of the Covenant Cause

In the previous post we looked once more at the Battle of Killiecrankie where King James II’s army in Scotland had triumphed over that of William, the Usurper. But in the course of the engagement, Viscount Dundee, James’ Lieutenant-General and architect of the victory, had suffered a mortal wound and with his death the chances of ultimate success in the Campaign were dealt a grievous blow.

Within days of the battle, the Jacobite army, now under the command of Colonel Alexander cannon, who had brought the Irish reinforcements across the previous month, pulled back north into safer territory.

The Privy Council, close to panic and with little military resources to hand following the virtual complete destruction of MacKay’s command, ordered the newly formed Earl of Angus’ Regiment to advance from Perth and engage the Jacobite Army.

Said Regiment, some twelve hundred strong, was largely formed from the Cameronians, followers of Richard Cameron, known to posterity as the Lion of the Covenant, who had met his death leading an unsuccessful rebellion against Scottish Government forces at the Battle of Airds Moss in 1680.

As would be expected from such men they were fiercely loyal to the Covenant and each company was required to have an elder in addition to a Cameronian chaplain to ensure adherence to their idiosyncratic religious views.

Dundee’s strength had been in forging the Jacobite Army in the first place, bringing together strongly minded but prickly clan chiefs and maintaining them in the field for the months of the campaign prior to Killiecrankie. Cannon was not so gifted. Few men are. And although he was able to hold the force together some chiefs took themselves off home, Cameron of Lochiel and MacDonald of Sleat specifically. However, they left their men under Cannon’s command, which still numbered over 3000 men, notwithstanding the losses suffered in the battle.

When news reached the Jacobites that the Cameronians had advanced to Dunkeld with the intention of moving on to take and hold Blair Castle, Cannon moved his men southwards again, to engage and destroy Angus’ regiment.

The military situation now was very different from that of three weeks previously. In the days prior to Killiecrankie, General MacKay’s overriding concern had been in bringing Dundee to battle. The overwhelming superiority of his men’s fighting qualities, their training and equipment and the leadership abilities of his officers was, he believed, significant in all aspects to that of his enemy. This view, naturally, would be shared by said enemy and so he believed that they would only with the greatest reluctance engage his force in combat. Thus when he led his men out of Dunkeld on the fateful morning of the battle, and through the defile of the Pass of Killiecrankie, he had little concern as to the possibility that the Jacobite Army might seek and secure favourable ground on which to engage MacKay’s troops.

This hubris was to prove his undoing and it was largely due to the fact that Dundee had been able to unleash the full ferocity of the highland charge down a steep slope that led to MacKay’s complete defeat.

The commander of Angus’ Regiment, Colonel William Cleland, a veteran of Bothwell Bridge, who had considerably less military experience than General MacKay but a more realistic appreciation of the martial abilities of the two sides, sought on this occasion to take up an initial position which was, in defensive terms, considerably stronger.

An aeriel view of Dunkeld today. Largely unchamged since the battle was fought there.

An aeriel view of Dunkeld today. Largely unchamged since the battle was fought there.

Dunkeld then, as now, is a small and compact settlement with the few streets set out closely around the cathedral and the mansions of the Bishop and Marquis of Atholl. Cleland’s men had fortified themselves in a strong position in the houses in the centre of the town backed onto the Cathedral precincts and awaited the attack of the Jacobite Army which outnumbered them in the order of three to one.

And at about seven o’clock on the morning of 21 August the Cannon launched the Jacobite Army in a full-scale assault on all sides of Cleland’s position. As the bitter hand to hand struggle progressed throughout the morning, Cleland’s men were gradually forced back towards the Cathedral with Cleland himself killed at an early stage in the fight.

 

By noon, however, a stalemate had been reached, with the Jacobite Army unable to make any further progress against their enemy and they disengaged from the action, retreating back to the north. King

William Cleland commanding the Earl of Angus' regiment during the battle.

William Cleland commanding the Williamite forces during the battle.

William’s men had suffered great losses but they had won the day and the momentum which the Jacobites had gathered from their victory at Killiecrankie was now all but completely dissipated.

Cleland's monument

Cleland’s monument

History would prove that the high water mark in the fortunes of the Jacobite cause had been reached and despite further risings in 1708, 1715, 1719 and 1745, the Stuarts would come no closer to re-securing the throne.

But what of the Covenant that other complex, mystical and symbolic cause for which so many men and women had fought since the original document was first penned in 1638, some fifty years previously?

Dunkeld was the last battle that could be said, in any small measure, to have been fought in its name, albeit for the cause of an uncovenanted king. Fifty years of struggle had gained it nothing and “it faded away, impotent and gloomy, like one of Ossian’s ghosts. From that day on it had no authority in Scotland, and no living relation to the church.

Even more so it is clear that the cause of the Covenant and the input of Covenanters and strict Presbyterians of all shades had played no part in those events which had brought about the change of monarchy and all that followed on, for better or worse, mostly the latter, from what became known as the Glorious Revolution.

And going forward it would be more moderate and temperate views that prevailed in defining the role of the Kirk in Scottish life

27 July 1689 – The Battle of Killiecrankie

Late afternoon, a sunny day on a Perthshire hillside. The River Garry thunders through the rocky defile at the bottom of the slope. A double line of redcoat soldiers stand to arms with their backs to the river looking up at the ranks of kilted warriors massed in their clan regiments further up the hillside.

General Hugh MacKay, commanding King William’s army in Scotland, looks along the line of his anxious soldiery and considers the merits of his position. He’d had one purpose in mind this morning, as he had put his socks on in his camp at Dunkeld and that was to bring Dundee’s army to battle so that he might destroy it. For three months he had pursued them across Scotland but the Viscount’s host had persistently eluded him.

General MacKay

General MacKay

Now, not only had he successfully brought his command through the narrow and treacherous Pass of Killiecrankie with its risk of ambush but he now stood toe to toe with his antagonist, King James’ Lieutenant-General, John Graham of Claverhouse, the recently ennobled Viscount Dundee. And he could now sweep away this one remaining obstacle to the rule of the House of Orange throughout the three kingdoms.

The narrow pass through which MacKay led his troops before the battle

The narrow pass through which MacKay led his troops before the battle

Perhaps, he might have preferred it were his own force not stood downhill from the enemy. The vaunted highland charge was a battle tactic of some repute. This Graham’s kinsman, the Marquess of Montrose, had used it successfully on no fewer than six occasions during his ultimately unsuccessful campaign to restore another Stuart monarch some forty years previously. Then it was a tactic that had been mostly deployed on level ground. Save at the final encounter at Kilsyth when, famously, the charge had been executed uphill after the unfortunate commander of the Covenanting Government’s army, General Baillie, had been instructed to execute a flank march in the face of the enemy. The black-cowled Geneva ministers who had given him his orders believed that not only were they the defining authority on the issue of man’s relationship with God, but also that they were experts in the matter of warfare. The responsibility for the subsequent destruction of Baillie’s army could be laid squarely at their door.

 

General William Baillie, commander of the Covenant army destroyed by Montrose at the Battle of Kilsyth (1645)

General William Baillie, commander of the Covenant army destroyed by Montrose at the Battle of Kilsyth (1645)

Today, however, not only is MacKay looking up the hill at his enemy but to prevent the possibility of being outflanked, he has reduced the depth of his force by a full rank, lest the Jacobite cavalry expose the weakness of his overly narrow frontage. The question of whether or not his thinned-out line would be strong enough to withstand the inevitable enemy charge does not seemed to have occurred to the erstwhile redcoat commander. Who, despite his highland lineage, has spent his entire military career on the continent and is as much a stranger in this, his own country, as any of his men.

His opponent, gazing down the hill at him from his horse,is of different stock entirely. As experienced in untidy, irregular scuffling across lowland bogs as he is in the ways of formal, well-mannered, continental warfare he had seen at such encounters as the Battle of Seneffe and the Siege of Maastricht.

Claverhouse saves William of Orange at the Battle of Seneffe

Claverhouse saves William of Orange at the Battle of Seneffe

Both forces had stood, assembled in battle array, for over an hour. The leading element of the Jacobite Army having emerged from the trees at the top of the slope not long after MacKay had received the comforting news the last of his marching column had cleared the narrows of the pass. The opposing commanders had then organised their dispositions in preparation for the long-awaited battle which had loomed inevitably ever since Dundee had raised King James’ Standard on Dundee Law in April, to initiate this first Jacobite Rising.

All his efforts since then had been focused in achieving decisive victory in this definitive battle. Perhaps, indeed, this was the culmination of his destiny. For forty years he had served his King and Parliament. Much of the last ten of these in the front line maintaining law and order in the face of the best efforts of hard-line Presbyterians to subvert said rule that it might be replaced with that of the Covenant.

And, latterly, as the failures of King James VII & II to effectively rule his kingdom multiplied to the extent that the hapless monarch felt compelled to simply abandon his responsibilities, in the same self-centred and short-sighted manner as his senior subjects had themselves abandoned him, the entire hopes of the Stuart monarchy had now fallen on the shoulders of this one man.

James VII & II flees to France (December 1688), abandoning all behind him

James VII & II flees to France (December 1688), abandoning all behind him

But such a man, of character unbesmirched. A natural, charismatic leader of men, as much on the field of battle as in the Parliamentary debating chamber. One who understood fully the principles by which good men should be guided.

 

And now he sat, ahorse, ready for the defining battle of a generation and, it would transpire, beyond. Surrounded by the chiefs of the highland clans and his own loyal officers who had served with him throughout the last troubled decade. And the issues at stake were understood by every man on that sunny hillside. If MacKay and his redcoats prevailed then the fortunes of William of Orange into whose lap the crown had so fortuitously tumbled, would be secure. Less than a year after leading ashore a hostile invasion force while the incumbent monarch sat yet on his throne, he would be undisputed political and military master of the Three Kingdoms. However, if the recently deposed King James’ Lieutenant-General were to be master of the field at the end of the day then it might all be changed once more with the House of Stuart restored to the throne upon which their ancestors had sat for over three hundred years.

Now, as the sun began toi dip behind the hill upon which he had assembled his King’s army, Dundee gave the order to charge. And what a sight this must have been for General MacKay’s men, this wave of terrible human ferocity tearing down towards them.Where the armies were closest, on the Jacobite left, the Camerons and MacDonalds were in amongst MacKay’s men before they were even able to fire their weapons. The regiments on either side broke and fled and the slaughter commenced.

The highland charge which swept General MacKay's line away

The highland charge which swept General MacKay’s line away

MacKay, by no means lacking in personal courage whatever his shortcomings as a military commander, did what he could to reform his line but the irreversible nature of the rout would have been obvious within minutes.

Dundee himself, rode down with his cavalry in the wake of the charging highlanders. And as he rose and turned in his saddle to maintain the direction of the mounted thrust, a musket ball struck below the arm and outwith the protection of his breast-plate, and he fell to the ground. As the clansmen set about completing the rout of MacKay’s command, Dundee’s officers tended to their stricken leader, but to no avail. The wound was grievous and within minutes the commander of King James’ forces in Scotland and the best and last hope for the restoration of the House of Stuart lay dead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Battle of Bothwell Bridge, 22 June 1679

In the last post we looked at the Battle of Drumclog where on 1st June 1679, a small government force under Bonnie Dundee’s command was attacked and routed by a larger, irregular force of Covenanters.

Emboldened by this outstanding success the Covenanters moved to capitalise on it. While in Edinburgh, the Privy Council initiated counter measures designed to quell the rebellion before it got completely out of hand. All of this would lead to a second and decisive military encounter some three weeks later and 20 odd miles further north on 22 June at the Battle of Bothwell Bridge.

Battle of Bothwell Bridge monument

Battle of Bothwell Bridge monument

In the immediate aftermath of his defeat at Drumclog, Dundee had written a full report to his commander, the Earl of Linlithgow, Major General of his Majesty’s forces in Scotland expressing his opinion that “This may be counted the beginning of the rebellion”. And so it would seem to be the case with the sudden appearance of covenanting sympathies in many hitherto seemingly law-abiding citizens.

3rd Earl of Linlithgow, Claverhouse's commander

3rd Earl of Linlithgow, Claverhouse’s commander

While many of those to the fore of the Covenanting force could be deemed to be determined, ruthless and experienced, none of them were generals. And the military command initially fell upon Robert Hamilton who, as was so often the case in these troubled times, would feature in a prominent role on both pro and anti Stuart divide, having fought for the Stuarts in the defeats at Cromwell’s hands at Dunbar (1650) and Worcester (1651) and would eventually flee to Holland in the aftermath of the failure of the Monmouth Rising (1685) the purpose of which was to remove James VII and II from the throne.

As soon as they had abandoned their pursuit of Dundee’s defeated force after Drumclog, the Covenant Army resolved, under Hamilton’s leadership, to “continue and abide together in arms”. They understood well that it was only a matter of time before the Government would move against them, in force. On the afternoon of their victory they marched the fifteen miles to Hamilton (the village not the man) where they camped. Glasgow, where Dundee and his remaining troops stood to arms with the Government garrison under the command of Lord George Ross of Hawkhead, was only 10 miles distant.

In the wee, small hours of the following morning the post boy galloped through the dark, Edinburgh streets bearing Ross’ despatch to Linlithgow announcing the defeat at Drumclog and his intention to barricade the streets of Glasgow in the face of the advancing covenanting host. Within an hour the Privy Council were gathered and plans laid to assemble the scattered Government troops from Fife and Dumfries for the Earl of Linlithgow to lead westwards against the rebels on 4th June.

17th century Glasgow, where the Covenanting rebels attacked Claverhouse and Ross

17th century Glasgow, where the Covenanting rebels attacked Claverhouse and Ross

At sunrise on 2nd June the rebel force approached Glasgow and at 11 am made a rash and ill-judged assault on the barricades at the bottom of High Street and the Gallowgate. The troops of Ross and Claverhouse fired on them from behind these and within a short time their assailants withdrew leaving many wounded lying in the street and at least seven dead. They rallied a mile to the east of the town where the setback of their repulse now gave rise to the splits and schisms long-threatened in a mob where each man and woman considered themselves to be a party of one.

If they possessed ‘leaders of integrity and followers with a singleness of purpose’ then this army of Covenanters might have been forged into a force as strong as any led by Cromwell. However, with fully two thirds of them deemed by themselves to be preachers, with the vanity and unwillingness to subvert to the greater good often prevalent in the species, it was a hopeless cause. Even with strong leadership it would have been an almost impossible task but the leadership of this rebel force was inept to a degree rarely seen before or since in our little corner part of the world.

The total number of different shades of religious opinion amongst them would have been impossible to determine but in broad terms they were split into two factions. These being the Moderates (which was purely a relevant term) led by John Welsh of Irongray, a great grandson of John Knox. And the Honest Party, led by the previously mentioned Robert Hamilton, who had no moderation in anything. And a considerable surprise it would have been, no doubt, for the redoubtable Mr Welsh to find himself for once outstripped in his fanaticism.

John Welsh, leader of one of the Covenant factions at Bothwell Bridge

John Welsh, leader of one of the Covenant factions at Bothwell Bridge

Having checked the forward movement of the rebels Linlithgow now amended his initial plan of concentrating his forces in Glasgow and decided instead to carry out this concentration of his forces at Stirling. A strange choice explained only by timidity on his part and one which left both Glasgow and Edinburgh vulnerable to subsequent advance by the still intact rebel force. And if they were to repeat their manouevre of the Pentland Rising of 1666 then there might yet be an undesired outcome to this revolt.

Thus Ross and Dundee were ordered to withdraw from Glasgow towards Stirling, doing so on 3rd June while Linlithgow advanced from Edinburgh. Their forces joined at Bonnybridge on the 5th. This combined force now numbered 1800 men; horse, dragoons (mounted infantry) and foot. A despatch was then received from the magistrates of Glasgow reporting that the Covenanters, now some 7000 strong, were camped in the vicinity of Bothwell Bridge, near Hamilton.

Bothwell Bridge, scene of the eponymous battle

Bothwell Bridge, scene of the eponymous battle

Linlithgow advanced once more, reaching Kirkintilloch at midday on 6th June. A reconnaissance party reported that the rebels had now occupied Glasgow and after due consideration and consultation with his officers, Linlithgow decided that the disparity in size of the two armies was such that he risked disaster by attacking and was duly recalled to Edinburgh by the Privy Council. Drumclog was only 5 days old and the rebellion was now entirely out of hand.

Still more of the disaffected rallied to the Covenant banner and the rebel force continued to grow in size, and to their collective misfortune, to grow also in disparity of strongly-held opinion. There now ensued fully two weeks of internecine bickering over religious intricacies. On 8th June a ‘very great convention’ was held in Rutherglen where a resolution was determined by the Honest Party to remain aloof from Welsh and his moderates. They met again the following day where both sides of the debate agreed on the necessity of issuing a unified, public declaration of their aims. Yet neither could accept the other’s drafting of this. On 10th June there was a ‘very hot disputation, particularly concerning the indulgence’ which is to say who was to be forgiven for previous political / religious transgressions and who was not. Again no resolution was determined. And so it continued. Each passing day brought further discussion and yet more disagreement as the differences between the disparate viewpoints became emphasised and that which drew them together became drowned in the din.

But now the King, his majesty Charles II, became stirred into action by the reports of rebellion from the north. He decided to appoint his illegitimate son, James, Duke of Monmouth as commander-in-chief of his forces in Scotland. Monmouth’s orders were issued on 11th June and he disembarked in Edinburgh on 19th June.

James, Duke of Monmouth. commander of the Government army at Bothwell Bridge

James, Duke of Monmouth. commander of the Government army at Bothwell Bridge

He brought only two troops of horse from England to supplement the Scottish Government’s now concentrated army which he rendezvoused with at Blackburn, West Lothian on 19th June, assuming overall command of a combined force of some 5000 men.

If this army force was small in numbers it was strong in leadership. Monmouth had extensive campaigning experience in Flanders. The 3 principal dragoon officers were seasoned and experienced men. Claverhouse and the Earls of Home and Airlie commanded their own separate troops and with Montrose (not The Montrose) leading the Life Guards there was no shortage of skill, experience and, crucially, military discipline.

On 20th June Monmouth was at Muirhead and on the evening of 21 June he was advancing on Bothwell Bridge and the larger Covenanting Army. How had things gone with them in the meantime? Not well. The advance of the Government Army had merely accentuated the acute divisions in their camp. On 16th, 17th and 18th, camped on Shawhead Moor, their leadership, such as it was, continued to meet in acrimonious debate. Hamilton’s Moderates had proposed a Day of Humiliation which Welsh’s Honest men had protested. With the whole gathering deep in confusion they had recrossed Bothwell Bridge on 18th June and encamped on Hamilton Moor.

The wrangling continued through the 19th, and on 20th June they were joined by reinforcements from Galloway. These were favourers of the Indulgence and thus natural allies of Welsh’s party. They submitted a written statement of their desires to Hamilton who promptly, and unsurprisingly, rejected it.

Late in the evening of 21 June, just hours before the battle would commence, the two factions met in their final council of war. One desired to purge the army of undesirables while the other refused to fight under the officers which had been selected prior to the arrival of the Galloway men which had given the moderates numerical superiority in the argument. After heated discussion Hamilton and his people withdrew. The Moderates sat down to frame a petition to Monmouth but once again agreement over the content proved impossible. And in a few short hours this host of pious men, leaderless, unprepared and distracted would blunder into battle.

The surviving comments from among their number cast illumination on their situation;……..”We were not concerned with an enemy as if there were none within 100 miles of us”………………..”There were none went through the army to see if we wanted powder or ball”……”A little before day we saw the enemy kindling their matches a great way off”…………
At about 3 am in the morning of 22 June the advance guard of Monmouth’s army closed on one end of the bridge. The rebels formed into two bodies with one holding their end of the bridge and the other drawn up a mile or so to the rear, while the single piece of cannon they possessed was dragged down to command the approach to the bridge. This piece and its gunner would be the star of the show for the discomfited rebels.

An exchange of pistol fire began across the water as Monmouth came to the front line. The two rebel factions, faced now with the imminent destruction of their host, had managed to thrash together a parley with which they could both live and now this representation was made to Monmouth, who could do little but entertain it. So hostilities ceased temporarily.

Their submission though was merely a list of their grievances and a request that they might meet with Monmouth to discuss the matters. The erstwhile Duke sent back that he could not enter into any discussions with rebels until they lay down their arms. He did not bother to await their reply before recommencing preparations for his assault and ordered the deployment of his own cannon to command the bridge. A second parley was sent out from the Covenant lines desiring to be told the nature of any terms that he might have brought from England. Monmouth sent them packing and duly ordered his cannon to open fire.

And this provided the first surprise of the day as the lone Covenant gun,
manned by a stalwart who’s name posterity has not preserved but was their one true hero if the day, drove the government artillerymen from their pieces. However, after their initial discomfiture they returned to their pieces and under the cover of their fire a storming party of dragoons led by the splendidly named Major Theophilus Oglethorpe, stormed and forced the bridge.

Oglethorp's dragoons storm the bridge

Oglethorp’s dragoons storm the bridge

Under instruction not to advance any further than the other end of said bridge, they became carried away by the heat of the moment and advanced up the hill towards the main body of the enemy. Who, perceiving their small numbers, moved down the hill and drove them into the houses at that end of the bridge.

In response 300 foot, under the command of Lord Livingstone’s son, were sent across the bridge and they, in turn, drove the Covenanters back on their main body. Monmouth himself now came forward over the bridge with his own troop and together with those already over, formed up to face the rebels ‘but two carabines shot apart’.

A haphazard and leaderless effort, but an effort nonetheless, was made by the rebels in an attempt to rescue the day. An assault was made on a body of Atholl Highlanders on Monmouth’s right, as the commander sought to form his second line. A brief cannonade forced them back in confusion with the Covenanting horse among them driven headlong from the field. Seconds later the foot joined the stampede and the rout began.

Oglethorp and Claverhouse were ordered to pursue with Monmouth following with the foot. At about ten o’clock that morning a messenger was despatched to Edinburgh bearing news of the victory.

And so the rule of law was once again imposed in all areas of the nation. The defeat at Drumclog could now be placed in proper perspective as a one-off thrown up by the particular circumstances of the day. And appropriate, measured action could now be taken against those who had initiated rebellion against King and lawful Government.

The bubble which had been blown at Rutherglen two months previously had now burst spectacularly with the rout at Bothwell. Monmouth was able to lead his men through the country across which the rebels had so recently roamed at will and confirmed the conclusion that all signs of rebellion were extinguished. On June 25th the local militia were dismissed, their function fulfilled. And on the 26th Monmouth returned to Edinburgh for the grateful thanks of the Privy Council, receiving the Freedom of the City in a large gold box. By 29th June he was on his way back to London.

Controversy, inevitably abounds as we look back on the whole episode, particularly in relation to two of the day’s participants; the Duke of Monmouth, commander-in-chief of the Government force and a lowly commander of horse troops, John Graham of Claverhouse.

Within 6 years Monmouth was dead: tried and executed for treason following his defeat at the Battle of Sedgemoor as he attempted to overthrow his uncle, King James VII and II, and seize the British throne for himself. From this vantage point many re-assess his behaviour at, and after Bothwell Bridge and seek to find indications, through his clemency towards the rebels, of his future treasonous actions.

As far as Claverhouse is concerned there has been as much opprobrium heaped upon him by future historians over his actions at Bothwell Bridge as there is at any other occasion in his career. The attempt to redress which is the driving force for this blog.

Much of this abuse is due to Sir Walter Scott’s depiction of the events of Bothwell Bridge in his novel,Old Mortality, which was published in 1816, nearly 140 years after the events took place. Scott gives Claverhouse a degree of prominence which far outweighs his actual involvement on the day and  also bestows upon him an aura of rapacious cruelty and vengefulness for which there is no basis. However, to be fair to Scott, he could have had little idea of the extent to which his work would outlive and outgrow him to the degree that it has. As Charles Terry, briefly and eloquently puts it, sober history competes unequally with romance.

Scott, author of Old Mortality

Scott, author of Old Mortality

Scott portrays Claverhouse as a colonel at the battle, promoted to General in the aftermath, whereas he was but a plain captain of horse, on the day and for some time afterwards. He and General Tam Dalziel, who was not in fact present at the battle having refused to serve under Monmouth, are credited by Scott with the ruthless pursuit of the fleeing rebels, in flagrant disobedience of Monmouth’s orders, rapaciously slaughtering the vanquished enemy.

Doubtless the emotion generated by his defeat at Drumclog would have been strong. The extensive source material relating to the battle itself and its immediate aftermath make passing mention only of his leading the cavalry on the right once Monmouth was over the bridge and reference to the capture ‘with his own two hands’ of two Covenant battle standards. Once again tradition becomes crystallized into fact in the face of a total absence of evidence. But it was ever thus.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Battle of Drumclog, 1st June 1679

Let’s break away from the summer campaign of 1689 which will end at Killiecrankie and look at an earlier episode in Dundee’s military career.

The Battle of Drumclog

The Battle of Drumclog

In June 1679 the Battle of Drumclog was fought near Loudon Hill in Ayrshire between a government force under his command and a mob of covenanters who were able to surprise him. It might be considered that with the wildness of the times and prevailing circumstances Drumclog was inevitable, but the seeds for this clash were sewn a month before with the nefarious deed carried out on Magus Moor on 3rd May.

On this day a stagecoach bearing Archbishop Sharp and his daughter Isabel, was crossing the moor heading for St Andrews when nine covenanter horsemen fell in behind it in pursuit.

James Sharp was a prominent and controversial figure of the time. As Primate of all Scotland he had been at the forefront of the major events in Scotland for the previous two decades. Captured and imprisoned by Cromwell’s forces in 1650 he had been involved with General Monck in the negotiations for the restoration of Charles II in 1660. Subsequently appointed as Archbishop of St Andrews and to the Privy Council, he then engaged in what was seen by many to be the instigation of the suppression of covenanting principles. And his involvement in the imposition of the death penalty on prisoners captured after the Battle of Rullion Green in 1666, made him, in the eyes of most covenanters, a sworn enemy of their cause.

James Sharp 1618 - 1679, Archbishop of St Andrews

James Sharp 1618 – 1679, Archbishop of St Andrews

And now the opportunity had arisen for them to take their vengeance. As the coach increased speed to escape, one of the archbishop’s mounted servants dropped back in an effort to fend off the pursuers and was immediately cut down with a sword blow. Within minutes the coach was brought to a stop and the archbishop ordered out. Eight of the men crowded round the now-kneeling prelate and laid about him with their swords while his daughter, restrained in the coach, looked on in horror.

The Murder of Archbishop Sharp

The Murder of Archbishop Sharp

Several heavy sword blows to the head ended the business. The archbishop’s efforts to block the blows leaving his hands shredded. Abandoning the lifeless body the covenanting gang plundered the baggage removing what documents they found before riding off leaving the archbishop’s daughter to tend her father’s body.

This murder, a savage and shocking event, even by the standards of the time, was to have profound implications, with the Privy Council subsequently using it to justify the imposition of suppressive measures against those who held to the Covenant.

But all this was yet to follow. In the immediate aftermath of the Archbishop’s assassination the first task of the authorities was to identify, capture and bring to justice, those who had been responsible for the deed.

Fleeing the scene of their crime the assassins rode west to Dunblane then south west to safe haven with their own kind. Among these, there were some more vituperous in their beliefs, that saw this event as a heaven sent opportunity to initiate further, escalated action against the repressive hand of the state. One of the more vocal among these was Robert Hamilton who duly organized a public demonstration of covenanting zeal. On 29 May, the King’s Birthday, he led a band into the burgh of Rutherglen where celebratory bonfires had been lit. Dousing these they then ceremoniously burnt copies of recent repressive legislation then fixed their declaration to the market cross.

News of the events at Rutherglen reached John Graham of Claverhouse in Falkirk late in the afternoon of the 29th May. By the 30th he was in Glasgow and early the next morning he left there hot on Hamilton’s trail. Sweeping through the township of Hamilton he apprehended three of the participants in the Rutherglen display including the renegade preacher John King. He was able to establish that there was a large conventicle planned for the following day, Sunday 1st June, in the vicinity of Loudon Hill. Early that morning he rode forth, took breakfast at Strathaven thence on to Loudon Hill some six miles distant.

The ground where the battle was fought

The ground where the battle was fought

As Claverhouse and his troop breasted the hill at Drumclog they saw arrayed in full battle order some half a mile distant a sizeable gathering of rebels. These had already been made aware of the approach of the government troops and non-combatants had fallen back to the rear with the remainder prepared for action.

Claverhouse’s force faced considerable adverse odds. Eye witness accounts number his force at 120 men of whom half were mounted. The covenant opposition was in the order of two thousand, albeit inexperienced amateurs, if enthusiastic. This Graham had experience of the battlefields of 17th century Europe, although this encounter was of a different nature entirely, and now he had to bring his experience and judgment to bear. He sent forward a parley to give the rebels the opportunity to surrender and avoid bloodshed. This was peremptorily rejected.

And then the rebel force attacked. They launched themselves through the small bog that lay between the two forces and engaged the government troops. Their armament was mostly pitchforks so only by closing fast could they hope to win the day. The first attack was held at bay but their second was delivered with sufficient vigour to break through the government line. 30 troopers were killed and the rest fled or claimed quarter. Claverhouse’s mount, speared with a pitchfork in the first moments of the battle, galloped madly from the field. By the time he had returned it was too late to do anything but gather the fleeing remnants of his men and lead them to safety.

On reaching Glasgow, Claverhouse penned an unvarnished and objective dispatch to the Earl of Linlithgow. There were neither excuses nor fault-finding as it explained the failure.

It was a comprehensive and disastrous defeat for Claverhouse’s command. This covenant victory ignited the smouldering embers of rebellion in south west Scotland. The victorious covenanters moved to base themselves in Hamilton and their numbers swelled over the ensuing days.

The Inscription on the Monument at Drumclog

The Inscription on the Monument at Drumclog

 

18 May 1689 The Clans Rally to the Standard

Dundee had set the date of 18 May for the clans loyal to King James to gather at his standard.
After the bold night raid on Perth on 10 May Dundee and his small band which still numbered less than 200 men, continued through Angus, levying King William’s cess for the use of King James as they went.

Late in the afternoon of 13th May they were once again outside the town of Dundee where the Standard had been raised precisely one month before. Claverhouse, dressed in armoured breast-plate with a black-furred helmet looked down upon the town. Holed up with the Williamite garrison behind the walls was Lieutenant-Colonel William Livingstone, old comrade-in-arms of Dundee’s. With his force of mounted troopers he would have made a valuable reinforcement to the small Jacobite army. However, the gates remained barred and Livingstone, deeming the situation unpropitious, remained inside the walls.

Dundee withdrew as night fell and headed for Glen Ogilvie where he spent his last night with Jean and his new born son before, in the morning, taking his leave of them for ever.

Bonnie Dundee takes his final farwell of his wife and son

Bonnie Dundee takes his final farwell of his wife and son

This was now 14th May with the gathering of the clan chiefs scheduled for 18th. He needed to be in Glen Roy before his invited guests. Time was short and there were but two common routes available to him either of which carried the risk of encounter with government troops which, at best, promised delay. So true to the Graham spirit he led his men directly across Scotland on a two day forced march.

They headed across the dark and desolate country round Loch Rannoch, around Ben Alder and up by Loch Treig through countryside still firmly in the grip of winter, before traversing the spur of Ben Nevis where below them they could see the Roy enter the Spean and springtime was evident all around them.

And here in Glen Roy, through which Montrose had led his men on their epic march on the way to The Battle of Inverlochy some forty years before, this Graham was warmly welcomed by Sir Ewen Cameron of Lochiel. This was the archetypal Highland Clan Chief of legend down to the last detail. The man who, legend had it, had killed the last wolf in Scotland and had bitten out the throat of an English soldier during a battle with General Monck’s garrison at Inverlochy, stood scrutinising the younger warrior.

Dundee for his part, having experienced first hand the rapacious prickleshness of MacDonald of Keppoch outside Inverness, would doubtless have been anticipating this meeting over the previous days with some concerns.

However, any fears he may have had proved groundless. It would seem that both men liked and trusted each other at first sight. They were two similar men of courage and integrity and if Lochiel’s motivation to become involved with this cause was more about the fear that an Orange succession would bring about once more the dominion of the House of Argyll over the other clans rather than from a deep love of the Stuarts, his commitment was nonetheless complete.

With his first act, Lochiel handed Dundee, unopened, the letter he had received some days before from General MacKay. This it transpired contained many promises, were Lochiel to bring his men out on the government side; a large sum of money, the governorship of Inverlochy Castle and the command of a regiment included.

Two days later on 18th May they made the short journey up Glen Roy to Mucomir to await the rallying clans. The first to arrive was Alastair Dubh MacDonell of Glengarry with his 300 men, followed thereafter by MacDonald of Morar with 200 Clanranald MacDonalds. And they continued to arrive; the MacIan with over 100 Glencoe MacDonalds, 200 Stewarts of Appin and then Keppoch, all smiles and warmth as though their disagreement at Inverness had never happened, rolled up with over 200 Keppoch MacDonalds.

 

The Fiery Cross: the method long used to rally clansmen to arms

The Fiery Cross: the method long used to rally clansmen to arms

The fiery cross was duly sent out to the more remote clans and in due course attracted also the MacDonalds of Sleat, MacLeans from Mull, Coll and Morvern, the MacLeods from Raasay, MacNeills from Barra and MacGregors.

Finally King James had an army in the field. It numbered less than 2000 men with barely one tenth of that number mounted but at its head a capable and inspirational leader with a clear purpose in his mind. And now he began to shape this force to achieve that purpose and he began to drill them that they might be best prepared for the fight that lay ahead.

The Night Attack on Perth – Dundee Cuts Down the Golden Oranges

10 May 1689 The Night Attack on Perth.

 

On 2 May a thoroughly chastised MacDonald of Keppoch and his 700 warriors headed off to the west leaving Dundee and his wee, small force in occupation at Inverness with General Hugh MacKay drawing up in Elgin.

For a week both parties stood their ground awaiting developments. Dundee’s force was still small and he’d added barely 200 mounted men to that since raising the standard the previous month. And MacKay’s move north of Dundee had confounded the possibility of drawing recruits from that area. In the meantime the good General had been rejoined by Colchester’s horse who he’d had to leave behind in Brechin some days previously as they had been unable to handle the rigours of the ride north.

Then on 8 May Dundee and his men left Inverness to MacKay. They rode south through Stratherrick to Invergarry castle, exactly as Prince Charlie would after the disaster at Culloden. They bedded down for the night at Kilcummin whence Montrose had led his army in that mad march across the hyperborean hell of the Grampian Hills in winter, to fall on and destroy Argyll’s army in February 1645.

The next day they crossed the Corryarrack Pass into the friendlier country of Speyside. And it was from here, at Presmuckerach, that he despatched his summons to the chieftains of all the principal clans of the highlands, bidding them rendezvous under the King’s Standard at Blair Atholl on 18 May.

On the morning of 10 May they were on the road again, riding past Blair Atholl Castle and down through Killiecrankie’s deep defile, with no idea of the portentous events that would be acted out in this very place in just a few short weeks.

They clattered into Dunkeld to find money and arms freshly gathered for the forces of King William’s new government and liberated these in King James’ name. With an officer of the Perthshire militia somewhat roughy handled, it seems.

dunkeldDunkeld Market Cross

And that very evening, appropriately refreshed, they rode south once more to strike wholly unexpectedly. They forded the silvery Tay in the dark and made their way cautiously towards the fair city of Perth.

They halted two miles outside and a select force of some twenty men crept up to the slumbering town about two o’clock in then morning. A handful entered by the open gate and secured the watch houses and the remainder then clattered noisily over the cobblestones.

PerthPerth, in  the 17th century

There had been a municipal banquet the night before and the King’s men could only rouse some of the gentry with sharp saber points. The enemy soldiers were placed under guard and all the weapons and horses gathered together at the market cross where, amid some ceremony, the golden oranges, the symbol of the usurping royal house, were cut from the standard of the regiment of the captured men.

And then, as swiftly as they had arrived, the King’s Lieutenant-General and his men and their prisoners were gone. The prisoners were subsequently carried off into the mountains and thence to Cairn na Burgh Castle on the Treshnish Isles, west of Mull before ending up in Duart Castle after Killiecrankie. It would seem they endured many hardships during their imprisonment and that not all of then survived the ordeal.

Cairn na Burgh Castle Treshnish ISlesCairn na Burgh Castle on the Treshnish Isles

Dundee rejoined the rest of his army and they rode to Scone where they made ready their next unpredictable move.

%d bloggers like this: