Resistance to the crown in the years following
the Battle of Bothwell Bridge was offered only by the most extreme
Presbyterians, and those extremists tended also to be the least
influential in social and economic terms. Both circumstances encouraged
the king's agents to adopt the harsh measures which have earned for these
years the name 'The Killing Times'.
Who were killed, and why? The leaders of
the resistance were frank in their oratory and prolific in their writings,
and there should be no difficulty in understanding what happened. On 4
June 1680, there was circulating a manifesto of resistance, the 'Queensferry
Paper', wherein it was claimed that 'We shall no more commit the
government of ourselves, and the making of laws for us, to any one single
person or lineal successor . . . to degenerate into tyranny as sad
and long experience has taught us . . . If we shall be pursued or troubled
any further in our worshipping, rights and liberties . . . we shall look
on it as a declaring war . . . and seek to cause to perish all that shall
in hostile manner assault us.'
The Queensferry Declaration was followed
within a matter of days by the Sanquhar Declaration of 22 June. The
Sanquhar document announced that its sponsors 'disown Charles Stuart. We
do declare a war with such a tyrant and usurper . . . and against all such
as have . . . sided with or in any wise acknowledged him in his tyranny.'
In other words, the men who issued these statements were talking politics,
and the politics of treason.
The Queensferry paper was the work of
Donald Cargill, former minister of the Barony Church in Glasgow, banished
to live North of the Tay in 1662. For close on twenty years he was one of
the leading field preachers until his capture near Lanark in July 1681 and
his execution shortly thereafter. The Sanquhar Declaration was read at the
town cross by Richard Cameron. In 1680 Cameron was thirty-two, a native of
Falkland, educated at St. Andrews and in October 1679, he became a leading
organiser of, and preacher at, conventicles. He was thus a hunted man even
before his demonstration at Sanquhar, and the king's soldiers were hot on
his heels. On 22 July Cameron, with sixty-three followers, was caught and
attacked at Airds Moss, near Sorn. As the troopers charged upon them
Cameron prayed, ' Lord spare the green and take the ripe.' - and died
there at the head of his little army.
Cameron's name came to be applied to those
who still continued to defy and resist. Presbyterians were in general
cowed and silent. Even 'Covenanters' is too wide a term to apply to the
resisters. Instead, they came to be identified as 'Cameronians'.
Leadership of the Cameronians was taken up
by James Renwick whose 'Apologetical Declaration' of October 1684 defined
the king and all his servants as 'enemies to God and the covenanted work
of reformation', to be punished as such. Following upon this latest
pronouncement, soldiers were empowered to administer to any suspect, an
oath whereby the suspect disclaimed all support for this Declaration. Any
who refused the oath were shot on the spot.
Thus The Killing Times happened. The
martyrs shot or drowned by the army, or arrested and hanged, suffered not
for their religious beliefs, but for the political rebellion into which
their religious beliefs had led them.
The chief official in Scotland as the
Killing Times proceeded was the king's brother and heir, James, Duke of
York and Albany. James, a convert to Catholicism had fallen victim to an
anti-Catholic political crisis in England in 1679, and had been sent to
Scotland as Royal Commissioner to get him out of the way as that crisis
was dealt with. He thus became identified in Scotland as having
responsibility for the worst persecution of the Cameronians. This
reputation was quickly recalled when in 1685 Charles II died, and James
succeeded to the thrones of the two kingdoms.
His accession was greeted by another
Sanquhar Declaration, which described the proclamation of James as 'choosing
a murderer to be governor, who hath shed the blood of the saints of God.'
The Cameronians were not alone in their misgivings. Moderates were in the
next few years, turned into extremists by James's policies.
In 1688 English politicians, deeply hostile
to his conduct of government, were prompted to immediate action by the
birth to James's second wife of a son who would succeed his father, and
continue a dynasty of catholic kings. A conspiracy involving powerful
English politicians, of varying political beliefs, was formed to bring
James under their control. To assist them in this enterprise, they invited
the ruler of Holland, William of Orange, to come to England with an armed
force sufficient to reduce James to obedience. William's readiness to
accept the invitation was confirmed by the fact that his wife, Mary, was
James's elder daughter, who would have succeeded her father but for the
birth of this unexpected and inopportune son. He had long anticipated the
day when his wife would succeed in England; and English money, English
ships, and English influence would be available for his use in his life's
work, which was to save Holland from France.
So he responded to the invitation, landed
in England, and prompted James to escape into exile in France. After some
confusion the English Parliament conferred upon William and Mary the joint
sovereignty of their country. What now would the Scots do?
Just as in 1660 royalist triumph in England
had delivered Scotland into royalist hands, so now events in England
offered the Scots a chance to escape from those particular hands.
The Convention of Estates which met in
Edinburgh on 14 March 1689 had three options. They could stand by the
exiled James; they could follow the English lead and give the Scottish
crown to William and Mary, or they could accept neither, and instead try
to create a republic. There is substantial evidence to show that many of
them would have liked to have a republic, as many men had come to believe
that all kings were liable to become oppressors, but the practical
difficulties were too great for most to regard the republican option as
realistic. But they could agree upon the next best thing, which was to
make the future monarchy as like a republic as possible.
They agreed that they would follow England's
lead, and offer the throne to William and Mary, but upon conditions. If
the new sovereigns would take a Coronation Oath, whose main point was to
pledge to maintain a Presbyterian form of church government; if they would
accept the Claim of Right, rejecting James's religion and the various
repressive actions of Charles II and James; and if they would promise
redress to a list of 'Grievances', including the Episcopal essentials of
prelacy, patronage and royal supremacy over the church, then they would be
accepted. The first two conditions were quickly accepted, and William and
Mary became king and queen of Scots.
Two
struggles, one military and one political, now followed. Those who had
wished to stand by James, and had seen their wishes over-ruled, now turned
to attempt a military counter-revolution. The leader was John Graham of
Claverhouse, upon whom James had conferred the title of Viscount Dundee.
Leaving the Convention, in which he had been out-voted, and leaving
Edinburgh where his life was in danger from the many friends, relatives
and supporters of his late victims, Dundee turned north to raise an army
for King James. Thus came into being the political faction which sought to
restore King James and his dynasty, to which attaches the name Jacobites
(from the Latin Jacobus, James).
By July, Dundee was active in the Atholl
area, and the new government in Edinburgh sent a force north to deal with
him. Just north of Killiecrankie Dundee shattered the army of General Hugh
MacKay, and opened the way south to Perth and thence to Edinburgh. But
Dundee himself was dead, killed in the battle. The Jacobite command passed
to Colonel Cannon, a professional soldier and a good one, but lacking the
brilliance of Dundee. Still, the politicians in Edinburgh expected the
Jacobites to be among them at any moment, and many panic-stricken
departures took place. MacKay's army was broken and no force seemed
available to stand in the path of Cannon and his men.
Scene of the Battle of
Killiecrankie, 1689. (Photo: James Halliday)
But one force did exist; a force of
volunteers, highly motivated and with a fierce, cold hatred of King James
and all he had stood for. A regiment had been raised from the ranks of the
persecuted Cameronians; and that regiment, under its Colonel, William
Clelland, took up position in Dunkeld and stood there to receive the
Jacobite attack when it came. So, the two extremes of Scottish politics
confronted each other. They fought for everything in Dunkeld - for hedges,
ditches, walls, houses, roofs and rooms. It was a savage battle because it
was an ideological one, a classically bitter and vicious civil war in
miniature. Clelland died, but his men held Dunkeld, and the Jacobite force
retired, dispersed and ceased to exist. The Cameronians survived, to
become a regiment in the British army, with their depot and recruiting
zone in the Lanarkshire and Ayrshire moorland towns and villages, in which
their traditions had begun.
The political struggle took longer. The
Coronation Oath and the Claim of Right had been quickly accepted by
William, but he was not at all ready to redress the Grievances. The second
'Grievance' was royal supremacy over the church, and this William would
have preferred to retain. The first, significantly, was the Committee of
the Articles, by means of which kings had controlled parliamentary
business. The simple truth was that William did not wish to give up any
royal powers, having as much sense of his own importance as any of his
predecessors. He and his supporters argued that however bad past kings had
been, William was good and trustworthy, and would not abuse his powers.
The view of the majority in the Convention was that any king left with the
power to oppress was always likely to become an oppressor, and the present
chance to diminish royal power must be taken. Only after a year of
political manoeuvring was William forced to admit defeat, and in May 1690
the hated committee passed out of existence.
The result was that the Scottish Parliament
was free of royal dictation, passed on from London to obedient officials
for implementation. It was free to develop policies and to decide on
issues. It was free to take initiatives in diplomacy and commerce. All of
its plans could be made with what were judged to be the best interests of
Scotland in mind.
One might have thought that such a happy
state of affairs would endure virtually for ever. But what if the best
interests of Scotland were not the best interests of England? And if the
Scots pursued their own best interests regardless, how would England
react?
The immediate concern facing the officials
of the new government was to ensure, as far as they could, good order
throughout the country. Dundee's rising had given them a severe fright.
First Montrose, and then Dundee had been able to use the Highlands as a
source of recruits for armies with which possibly to coerce the government
and politicians in Edinburgh. It was natural that peace in the Highlands
was a prime objective of William's administrators. The question was how
best that objective might be secured. The first method which they tried
was bribery. The Earl of Breadalbane, chief of the Campbells of Glenorchy
and northern Perthshire, was given money - £6000 we are given to
understand - with which to bribe chiefs into a happy relationship with the
new regime. Breadalbane unfortunately, was a quite outstandingly devious
and unscrupulous person, and he gave priority to bribing himself. And why
not? The result was that when he and others met to discuss the
distribution of incentives the meeting broke up in accusations and
recrimination.
Having used the carrot, and found it
inadequate, the government now decided to use the stick. All Highland
chiefs were to be required to take an oath of loyalty to William before
New Year 1692. Any who refused would find themselves victims of
traditional 'fire and sword' punitive expeditions. It was thought probable
that the pride or honour of some of the chiefs would make them openly
defiant. The king's Secretary of State in Edinburgh, John Dalrymple of
Stair (once Lord Advocate to King James before a timely change of sides),
had high hopes of catching in the net one or other of the most defiant of
the MacDonald chiefs, Keppoch or Glengarry.
As the months passed and oaths were duly
taken, the sheriffs sent their reports back to Edinburgh, where, in early
January, Dalrymple and his colleagues excitedly began their scrutiny of
the documents. To their dismay they found that no chief had refused.
Deeply incredulous and frustrated they re-examined, and found a flaw in
the submission of MacIan MacDonald of Glencoe, who had gone to Fort
William to take the oath only to find that he had to go instead to
Inveraray. As a result his oath was taken after the deadline set. He was
not quite Keppoch or Glengarry, but he would do, and so instructions to
the appropriate army officials were sent, ordering them to proceed against
MacIan and his clan 'to burn their houses, seize or destroy their goods or
cattle, plenishing or clothes, and to cut off the men.' 'Men' were defined
on these occasions as males between the ages of seven and seventy. 'It
will be a proper vindication of the public justice to extirpate that sect
of thieves' was Dalrymple's opinion.
The story of Glencoe is sadly familiar.
Parties of soldiers guarded each end of the glen, while another was sent
in to live in billets among the MacDonalds until the time came to carry
out their orders. Their story was that they were merely pausing in the
glen for a little while before moving on towards the Keppoch and Glengarry
areas. On 12 February, Major Duncanson gave the official orders to the
Captain of the forces in the glen, Robert Campbell of Glenlyon. If only
Glenlyon had had another surname much misunderstanding would have been
avoided in later years. Because he was called 'Campbell' virtually
everyone who knows about Glencoe assumes it to have been just another clan
battle. The fact that such a notion is nonsense has proved insufficient to
alter public perception, and those really responsible have enjoyed a quite
unearned alibi.
Glenlyon did as he was told. MacIan, his
wife, and most of his clansfolk were shot and stabbed during the early
hours of the morning. His son led a party of survivors over the mountains
and the snowdrifts to find refuge among the Stewarts of Appin to the south
and west of Glencoe.
News travelled slowly, and not until late
in the year were rumours heard in Edinburgh of the massacre; and not until
the meeting of Parliament in 1696 was there any opportunity for proper
investigation. There was then nothing much to be done, as King William 's
Secretary supported bhad personally signed the orders placed before him by
Dalrymple. The latter was for the moment removed from offfice, but he
returned before very long. And that, except for memory, was the end of the
matter. Lowland politicians, though they would use what material they
could to embarrass opponents, were not really greatly concerned about the
fact of the MacDonalds, and in any case blame could be successfully
shufffled off on to
Glencoe, scene of the
massacre in 1692. (Photo: Tom Weir)
the Campbells. But no one really had any
doubt as to where blame really lay. The MacDonalds were slaughtered, not
by a rival clan but by regular soldiers, servants of the state, in the
king's uniform, on the instructions of the king's Secretary supported by
the signature of the king himself.
Glencoe, then, never provoked the political
crisis which it might properly have done, and for the remainder of the
1690s the Scottish Parliament was preoccupied with more material concerns.
Ever since 1603 the Scots had cherished the
hope that they might be allowed, as subjects of the same king, to share in
trade with England's colonies, but the English, like all colonial powers
of the time, would never dream of granting any such rights. Colonies were
seen as assets to be monopolised for the benefit of the country to which
they belonged and all interlopers were fiercely excluded.
James VI had tried to organise some sort of
fuller union of his two kingdoms, but the English were not in the least
interested. On numerous occasions Scottish Parliaments hopefully appointed
committees to negotiate union with England, but the English were not
interested.
Anxious to diversify and expand their
trade, the Scots now embarked upon an alternative approach. If they could
not gain access to England's colonies why should they not simply establish
colonies of their own? Such colonies would be a source of raw materials, a
market for Scottish produce and a base for her ocean-going traders. Thus
the Scottish Parliament encouraged and authorised the formation of 'The
Company of Scotland Trading to Africa and the Indies', and the Company
would establish a colony as its base and the beginnings of a Scottish
commercial network. Such a venture would require large sums of money. A
fleet would have to be organised, equipped, provisioned and provided with
cargoes. Scotland did not really have the amount of capital to make such
investment, but help was at hand. England's laws excluded, from England's
colonies and markets in large areas of the world, even English merchants
who were not members of the great East India Company. The influence of
that company was vigorously maintained by many members of the House of
Lords and several hundred members of the House of Commons. Englishmen who
were not in the East India Company had chafed for years over their
disadvantage. But the English Parliament had no jurisdiction whatsoever
over a Scottish company, and so many English merchants gleefully and
legally rushed to invest in the Scottish company. Dutch merchants followed
suit and the Company of Scotland looked like being a great success.
At this point the 'East Indiamen' in the
English Parliament awoke to their danger, and belaboured William with
demands that he stop the Company of Scotland; or if that was, for some
reason which escaped them, impossible, then he must forbid English
subjects - or Dutch subjects - to invest in the Scottish venture. Under
severe parliamentary pressure William agreed, and by English law
Englishmen were now forced to withdraw from the enterprise.
The Scots at this point would have been
wise if they had stopped to reconsider their plan, but pride was now
involved and in an astonishing outburst of patriotic defiance they now
subscribed enough money to make good the sums withdrawn by English and
Dutch defectors. At what a cost to the country became in due course
apparent.
Comparatively poor and humble people bought
one share, or would join with others to make a collective purchase of one
share.
By an amazing national effort the necessary
funds were raised and the preparation of the fleet carried out. The
Directors of the Company had selected the site of their colony. It was to
be on the Isthmus of Panama, at a spot called Darien, where North and
South America met and where the Atlantic and Pacific met. Darien was as
near to the world's crossroads as one could imagine. It seemed strange
that no one was there already. What they did not appreciate was that the
climate of the area, and the hazards to health from fever and all possible
tropical infections, had deterred the Spanish, who were in control of the
surrounding area, from actually occupying Darien. However, if any outside
power showed interest, Spain would certainly oppose them.
In July 1698, seven ships sailed from Leith
for Darien. Their cargoes included heavy textiles - canvas, linen, serge,
homespun cloth and blankets. They carried also shoes, stockings and
slippers; wigs, bibles and Kilmarnock bonnets; oatmeal and twenty-nine
barrels of clay pipes. Clearly they had much to learn about trading in the
tropics, trading with native Indians, and the unwisdom of carrying
protestant bibles into a Spanish-influenced area.
The
first fleet landed; established a base called Fort St. Andrew, and
proclaimed the new colony of New Caledonia. Soon fever struck; the natives
proved unfriendly, and a Spanish expedition prepared to march against
them. They hung on doggedly, twice being ready to evacuate but each time
inspired to stay because reinforcements reached them in two fleets, one of
two ships from Leith in May 1699, and a third of four ships from Rothesay
in September 1699. But the Spaniards closed in upon Fort St Andrew. The
Scots sent pleas for help to the English governors - subjects of King
William like themselves - of Jamaica and Nova Scotia, but the governors
were under orders to give no help whatever. William needed the goodwill of
the English Parliament, and he wanted also to maintain friendly relations
with Spain. The Scots therefore were left to surrender to the Spanish
force whose commander, impressed by the brave conduct of Campbell of Fonab
and the Scottish garrison, allowed the starved, half-dead survivors to
march out in honour, leaving their country's colonial ambitions in ruins.
The Stone of Scone
Because hopes had run so high Scottish
bitterness over the Darien disaster was correspondingly great. Financial
ruin had come upon thousands, and in their distress and their anger Scots
singled out English ill-will as the major cause of their tragedy, and
feeling against England and King William ran high.
At this point, with friendship between the
two parliaments and peoples at a particularly low ebb, the English
Parliament in 1701 moved to deal with a problem which had been causing
them much concern. The marriage of William and Mary had been childless,
and Mary was now dead. Mary's sister Anne, younger daughter of King James,
was next in line according to the law of England, but her children all had
died in infancy, except for the Duke of Gloucester who survived for a few
years. So there was a succession problem, and the English Parliament in
1701 passed the Act of Settlement to provide for an orderly succession
when the need arose. All Catholic claimants - the son and descendants of
King James for instance - were debarred. William was to reign until his
death, after him Anne, and after Anne, if none of her children survived,
was to come Sophia of Hanover, daughter of Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia and
grand-daughter of James VI.
The Scots observed the English action and
saw an opportunity to apply pressure. They had no more desire than had
their English counterparts to see the restoration of the Stewarts, but the
English Act had been passed without any consultation with the Scots, and
once again English politicians had revealed an arrogant assumption that
whatever England did, Scotland would automatically accept. In their
bitterness over Darien and their irritation at this latest high-handed
action by the English, the Scots turned their minds to the possibility of
blackmail. The Protestant succession and the guarantee that the Stewarts
were gone forever were the two fundamental needs of English politicians.
If the Scots were to play upon these fears they might perhaps extort
commercial concessions which England had for so long denied them.
Thus, in 1703, the Scottish Parliament
passed the Act of Security which stated that on the death of Queen Anne,
Scotland would not accept the same monarch as England unless Scots were
granted equality of access to England's colonial markets. If the Scots
persevered, and carried their Act into effect, England faced a choice
between two unattractive alternatives; either the Scots would breach her
monopoly of her colonial trade, or a Stewart king, with French friends,
might be back in Edinburgh. Strategically the two countries might be back
in 1560, with Scotland a base for French mischief-making to England's
detriment.
It
was not very likely that such an event would really come to pass, Scottish
memories of the Stewarts from 1660 onwards being as they were. They
probably gave the identity of their possible separate monarch no serious
thought, in the belief that things would never be allowed to reach such a
stage. They were quite right, though hardly in the way they expected.
They had forgotten that blackmail is a game
that two can play, and that England might find some way to counter
Scottish plans. The English answer was brutally effective.
By the terms of the English Alien Act of
1705 the English moved '. . . for the effectual securing the kingdom of
England from the apparent dangers that may arise from several acts lately
passed by the parliament of Scotland.' They had two telling blows to deal
the Scots. Firstly, all inheritance of property in England by Scots would
cease; and secondly, all English purchases of Scottish goods and produce
would cease, as from 25 December 1705, unless by then, the Scots had
agreed to the terms of the English Act of Settlement and the Hanoverian
succession. The first condition was a severe jolt to the Scottish nobility
and gentry who held property in England; the second spelt economic ruin
for Scotland. The dangerous consequences of over-dependence upon England
as a market for Scottish goods, and the neglect and decay of trade with
other European countries, were now starkly apparent.
The Scots had no alternative now but to
come to some sort of agreement. The English offer went part of the way to
meet the Scots' ambitions. Yes, the Scots could trade in future with
England's colonies, but in order to earn this benefit they would have to
surrender their independent parliament. One parliament would now serve
both kingdoms, and the Scots would merely have representation in the
parliament in London. On this basis, the Scots agreed to begin discussions
in London, while for their part, the English government concentrated an
army under General Wade at Newcastle, indicating that conquest was a
possible outcome if the Scots should too long delay in coming to terms.
To describe the discussions as 'negotiations'
is to misuse language. Each day began with the English delegation placing
before the Scots the proposal to which their consent was that day
required, and the English thereafter went about their ordinary business
leaving the Scots to wrangle among themselves. When the proposals emerged
the English Parliament passed them without opposition and with no great
interest. For the Scots the debate was in the fullest sense historic. They
were deciding whether or not they could, or should, attempt to maintain
their political identity or, in other words, their independence. One side,
whose chief spokesman was Andrew Fletcher of Saltoun, concentrated on the
fact that Scotland's nationhood was at stake, while the other essentially
argued that Scots had no alternative under such economic pressures; and
that in any case, a defiant, independent Scotland could not in the future
prosper. No one mentioned General Wade, but everyone knew where he was,
and why he was there.
When the Scots came to vote on 16 January
1707, the vital first clause was carried by 116 to 83. The final vote, to
accept or reject the Act of Union as a whole, was carried by 110 to 69.
The majority is clear, though when looked at more closely opinion was not
quite so one-sided. The nobles voted 46-21 in favour of the first clause,
and 42-19 on the final bargain. Corresponding figures for the shire
commissioners were 37-33 and 38-30; and for the burghs 33-29 and 30-20.
The more popular representatives, in other words, were fairly evenly
divided, and the convincing majority was provided by the lords.
Many Scots, at the time and since, have
attributed the behaviour, of the nobles at least, to bribery; and others
have piously deplored any such suggestion. The truth is that in the
eighteenth century any parliamentary decision of any significance was
attended by the offer and receipt of favours and inducements. That is how
business, in the absence of a party system, was done. It would be an
occasion for the most profound surprise to find that bribery had played no
part in the making of the Union.
Argyle for instance, let it be known that
he would not even attend if he was not rewarded. He wanted to be a general
in the army, and he wanted a peerage for his little brother Archie. Argyle
became a Major General and Duke of Greenwich. Lord Archie became Earl of
Islay, and a much better politician than his brother.
Atholl was promised arrears of expenses due
to him if he made no trouble. Tweeddale would receive his arrears if his
behaviour was satisfactory. The Treasurer-Depute was entrusted with
£20,000 for distribution to the deserving. Like Breadalbane in 1690 he
rewarded himself with £1200 and distributed the rest with reasonable
skill, earning government thanks for 'my service in the Union Parliament.'
In the new - if it was new - Parliament,
there would sit sixteen Scottish peers and forty-five members of the House
of Commons. Coinage, weights and measures, and commercial measures
generally were to be uniform throughout the completely unitary state of 'Great
Britain'. But Scots Law was to continue as before, and the Presbyterian
structure of the Church was guaranteed. Thus was secured the goodwill of
two powerful vested interests which might otherwise have become
exceedingly awkward.
Parliament House, Edinburgh. (Grant's Old
and New Edinburgh)
The Earl of Seafield - as secretive and
shifty a politician as even that age produced - presided as Chancellor
over the Scots Parliament in its final moments. As he pronounced the
acceptance of the Union, and the adjournment without limit of time of the
Parliament, he remarked jovially 'There's an end to an auld sang.'
So Scotland was gone, and the rest of the
world knew her not. For England nothing had changed. English rulers had
never seriously or sincerely accepted Scotland's separate identity anyway,
and the presence of Scots in the English parliament seemed to them just as
it should be. Some of the terms of the Union were set aside before long
when English opinion saw fit to require change. Taxes on malt were imposed
earlier than had been promised; and the power of landowners to appoint
local ministers, abolished in 1690, was restored in 1712, to remain in the
church as an affront to Presbyterian theory.
For Scotland the Union was the great
historical decision in the country's story. For England nothing much had
really happened and nothing important had changed. For this reason the
concept of 'Britain' has never been fully accepted. As has been observed
in modern times, 'if the English had become British, so might the Scots.' |