AMONG
the natural phenomena in Scotland the peak of
Dumbarton Rock holds no inconsiderable place. Rising abruptly from the
banks of the Clyde, and rearing its rugged front erect in solitary state
from a comparatively level country, its effect is striking and peculiar.
Geologists maintain that they can trace the range of mountains of which
Dumbarton is the termination, far away north, through the Kilpatrick and
Campsie Hills up to the Grampians.
This uncouth rock is full
of memories that carry us far back in the annals of our country, and it
forms a connecting link betwixt the chivalrous times that have long
vanished and our present utilitarian days. Long before the period of
written history Dumbarton existed as a tower of strength for the primitive
natives. The misty period of Scottish story, in which Fingal and Ossian
with their warlike band appear, is connected with our own times by the
hill of Balclutha, the scene of their exploits, the home of their triumph
and victory. If corroborative proof were required that this Castle steep
was the seat of Fingal, the recent discoveries of canoes and other relics
in the district might readily afford it. But the songs of Ossian are
sufficiently precise to indicate the locality with certainty. And even in
those remote times Balclutha was regarded as having existed from
far-distant ages, and exhibiting the reverses and vicissitudes common to
all earthly things. For thus sings Ossian:-
"I have seen the walls of
Balclutha, but they are desolate. The fire had resounded in the halls, and
the voice of the people is heard no more. The stream of Clutha was removed
from its place by the fall of the walls. The thistle shook there its
lonely head; the moss whistled in the wind. Why dost thou build the wall,
son of the winged days? Thou lookest from thy towers to-day; yet a few
years and the blast of the desert comes. It howls in thy empty courts, and
whistles round thy hall-worn shield."
A long .Controversy, began
in 1762 and still continued in 1926, arose regarding the authenticity of
James Macpherson’s translation of the Ossian poems; but experts in the
language maintain that Macpherson founded many of his versions upon Gaelic
originals, and in some of them introduced episodes from Irish history. The
question will probably never be decided absolutely either way. It is
certain, however, that the Ossian poems published by Macpherson were
translated into all the European languages, and attained great popularity.
Balclutha formed a
stronghold of the aborigines at a very early period, and came under the
notice of the Romans when they invaded Caledonia. A military nation by
profession, such as the Romans were, could not but perceive its importance
as a fortress. Its commanding site from which the road and the river could
be controlled, would at once point it out as a most desirable outpost from
which the invaders might menace the inhabitants, and the difficulty of
access which it presented naturally rendered it almost impregnable. When
Antoninus, therefore, began his great undertaking of the Roman Wall from
the Clyde to the Forth, he selected Dumbarton as the starting-point, since
he there could control all ingress to Scotland from the Western Sea by the
way of the Clyde. And here was founded the ancient burgh of Dumbarton, at
the base of the rock, which appears in Roman annals under the name of
"Theodosia," after one of the most eminent generals commanding the
invasion.
And thus, with a continuity
which is easily traced, we find that the Balclutha of Ossian becomes the
Alcluith of the Britons of Strathclyde, the Theodosla of the Romans, the
Dunbrittain of the Scots, and the Dunbartane or Dumbarton of more recent
times. Yet, though its antiquity is thus established, one hesitates to
accept the statements of Geoffrey of Monmouth, who gravely records the
name of the contemporary of King David of Israel who ruled in his
ancestral halls on the banks of Clyde.
The Roman invasion gave
place to the Danish, and still Dumbarton was esteemed an enviable point of
vantage. In 870 A.D. it endured a siege of four months by the Danes under
Olave, and was finally captured by them. From this time onwards the Castle
frequently changed its masters, and upon its weather-beaten front was
traced the passing history of the country as it alternated betwixt freedom
and slavery. It was not, however, until the Earls of Lennox had risen into
power that the attention of the Scottish Kings was seriously attracted
towards Dumbarton. The title of this ancient house was derived from
Levenax or Lennox, the district through which the Leven river flows on its
way from Loch Lomond to join the Clyde at the base of the Castle Rock. The
Earls of Lennox seemed to have ruled the surrounding country with a high
hand, issuing their almost regal mandates from the Castle of "Dunbretane."
And so intolerable had the yoke become that in 1238 Alexander II., whilst
confirming a charter of land to them, expressly excluded the Castle from
it, and retained it as a royal possession. A quarter of a century later it
again formed the centre of attack during the Norwegian invasion under Haco.
That its importance as a stronghold was thoroughly appreciated in those
warlike times we may learn from the fact that Edward I. of England, acting
in his self-assumed character of Lord Paramount, directed Nicholas de
Segrave, the Castellan, to put Balliol in possession of it.
A peculiar interest
attaches to Dumbarton in connection with Sir William Wallace. Sir John
Menteith, his betrayer, or, at least,
his captor, was Castellan at the time, and carried the unfortunate patriot
to his fortress, under a pledge that he would suffer no harm. But no
sooner had he obtained full possession of his person than he handed him
over to the English soldiers, and defiled his hands by accepting the bribe
of perjury and unfaithfulness. It would be rash to conclude from this
transaction that Menteith was other than a brave man in battle, for his
later exploits at Bannockburn somewhat atoned for his treachery. But it
cannot be denied that the principles of this execrated man were "unstable
as water." Indeed, he seems to have been a prototype of the famous
American politician, who summed up his creed shortly: "I believe in one
party, and that is myself."
He was untrue to Wallace,
faithless to Bruce, treacherous to Edward, and mistrusted alike by
countryman and stranger. A curious story is related in connection with
King Robert. When that illustrious monarch had made some way in the
country south of the Clyde, he crossed to Dumbarton, and, being joined by
Malcolm, Earl of Lennox, he laid siege to the Castle, then held by
Menteith. Meantime, the Governor, deceived by his past actions, Bruce
attempted to bribe; but the ambitious Castellan would hear of no less a
reward than the Earldom of Lennox. The King could not for a moment endure
the thought of dispossessing one of his most faithful followers even to
gain so important a position, and only the remonstrances of the good Earl
Malcolm, who professed himself ready to resign his honours for so
desirable an object, at length prevailed. A treaty was made, whereby
Menteith undertook to deliver up the Castle to Bruce for the lands
and title of Earl of Lennox. But a carpenter named Rolland, who had gained
some knowledge of Menteith’s designs, warned the King that he would be
betrayed unless most watchful.
Nothing daunted, but
thoroughly on the alert, the brave Robert Bruce pursued his way to the
Castle. He was met at the gate by Menteith, who delivered up the keys with
all due pomp and solemnity. But ere sitting down at meat with him the wary
King desired to be shown over the Castle. Closely followed by his own
attendants, he inspected every corner of the fortress, and noticed with
rising doubt that Menteith carefully avoided opening the door of one
cellar in particular. His suspicions were aroused, and, calling his guard
to arms, he forced the door and found within the chamber a body of English
troops, who were doubtless secreted there so as to take the citadel by
surprise. The unhappy Governor, who had thus over-reached himself, was at
once secured. But those were times in which strict justice might not be
done, and Bruce could ill afford to execute one valiant knight, however
grave his misdemeanour. Menteith was promised a full pardon for his
treason if he would join the Scottish Army on the eve of Bannockburn. And
so mightily did he wield his sword on that memorable occasion that he was
not only restored to liberty, but also loaded with honour.
A romantic story connected
with Dumbarton is still preserved in the traditions of the Castle. When
David II. returned from England, there followed in his train a Welshwoman
named Catherine Mortimer, upon whom he had bestowed tokens of favour.
Jealous of her influence with the King, the ambitious Earl of Angus hired
two ruffians to accomplish her assassination. Apprised by their employer
of her movements, they waylaid her upon a lonely moor near Melrose, and
murdered her in cold blood. A deed so abhorrent, even in that lawless age,
called loudly for vengeance, and as the complicity of Angus was an open
secret, the enraged King ordered him to be confined in Dumbarton Castle,
whilst the remains of his victim were interred with great solemnity at
Dunfermline. But the year 1361, which succeeded his incarceration, was a
fatal one for the Lennox country, as the plague broke out there with great
virulence, destroying nearly one-hall of the inhabitants, and numbering
amongst its victims the unhappy Earl of Angus.
It would be tedious to
relate all the sieges which this venerable Castle has endured; but the
story of the connection of James IV. with it must not be omitted. At the
Court of this unfortunate monarch no nobleman was more beloved and
respected than Lord Darnley, afterwards Earl of Lennox. His youth, his
talents, and the promise of success which they afforded, pointed him out
as one of the men whom the King delighteth to honour. And thus, among
other munificent gifts, we find that in 1479 "the Castell of Dunbretane,"
with all the revenues pertaining to it, was bestowed upon him by his too
generous sovereign. For nine years did Darnley bask in the sunshine of the
royal countenance; but
"Vaulting ambition that
o’erleaps itself
And falls on t’other side"
at length overcame
him. In 1488 his plots against the King were discovered, and he was
degraded from his rank. Fortune played shuttlecock with him in the
following year. In February all the Acts of Parliament against him were
rescinded, and he was restored to favour; but in July of the same year
orders were given to besiege the Castle of Crookston, Dumbarton and
Duchall, which belonged to himself and his sons, and to execute the
extreme penalties for treason against them. So great was the feeling
adverse to Damley that King James himself
took horse to lead the attack. Assembling his troops at Glasgow, he
marched first against Duchall, which he reduced in seven days. Directing
his army against Crookston, he soon forced a capitulation, and, with the
laurels from these victories fresh upon him, he joined with the Earl of
Argyll against Dumbarton. But here, though ultimately successful, he found
victory not so easy as he had anticipated. Despite the assistance
which the King had of all the Scottish
artillery, including Mons Meg from Edinburgh Castle, it took a
considerable time to reduce the garrison. In despair the King was at last
compelled to raise the siege and confess himself foiled by his powerful
subject. Returning, however, in the month of September, he again opened
his battery against Dumbarton, and succeeded in obtaining possession of
it, though only upon the conditions of a full pardon for Darnley, now Earl
of Lennox.
Whether the difficulty of
conquering it had endeared the Castle to him or not it is not possible to
tell, but certainly Dumbarton became one of the most cherished residences
of King James IV. after this time. It is interesting to notice how
frequently Dumbarton appears in the Records of the Chancellor of the
Exchequer, whose debit and credit accounts afford much information to the
historian. For instance, there is this curious entry:-
"1494—5, Mars. 19. Item, To
the Pyper of Dumbartane, be the King’s command, xiiij sh’."
Whether this piper was the
famous Rory Murphy, whose name still exists in local song and story, is
not recorded.
After the lamentable death
of King James at Flodden the country was rent by the several factions of
the Queen-Mother and the Earl of Arran, who both strove for the Regency.
The latter nobleman, assisted by the Earls of Lennox and Glencairn,
attacked Dumbarton successfully. In the quaint words of the chronicler of
that time:—In ane mirk, wyndy nicht, the xij of Januar (1514), they under-myndit
the nedderpole of the yett of Dunbartane, and enterit thairat, and tuik
the Castell, and put furth the Lord Erskine, then Capitane thereof." But
their triumph was of short duration, as the arrival of Albany caused the
overthrow of the Earl of Arran, and Lennox was imprisoned in Edinburgh
until he delivered up Dumbarton.
For thirty years after, the
possession of this Castle indicated the supremacy of the one or the other
party. The political principles of the nobility of those days were very
slip-shod indeed, and Earl Lennox was a type of his peers. In 1546 he
again took and fortified the Castle, holding it for the young Queen of
Scots. But shortly after he listened to the charming voice of Henry of
England, who sought to conquer Scotland by marrying Queen Mary to his son
Edward. Meanwhile the Chevalier de Brosse had been despatched from France
to Dumbarton with stores and treasures to assist the cause of the Queen;
and, unaware of the change in the political opinions of Lennox, he was
induced by that wily nobleman to place his precious load in the Castle for
safety. No sooner had this been done than the Earl quietly took possession
of the treasure in the name of Henry VIII., and turned the duped and
bewildered Chevalier out of Dumbarton.
In 1547 the unfortunate
young Queen was conveyed to Dumbarton, as affording the most secure
shelter for her from English force and fraud, and it was here that she
suffered from an attack of smallpox, which was then the scourge of
Scotland. And in a melancholy hour did she embark for France from
Dumbarton, taking leave of the Queen-Mother on the greensward at the base
of the Rock, and bidding a gay farewell to Scotland as her barque floated
swiftly down the Clyde. To this regal residence she returned no more, for
her next attempt to reach it was foiled at Langside, and she never again
beheld the rugged rock, and her hospitable refuge, from which she had
first set out in all the bloom of youth and hope.
For two years after her
flight to England Lord Fleming held the Castle in her name, and defeated
the besiegers under the Regent Moray, who strove for its possession. But
it was wrested from him by one of the boldest assaults recorded in
history. In 1571, whilst Lennox lay ill at Glasgow, having been injured by
a fall from his horse, this forlorn hope was planned, and entrusted for
its execution to Captain Crawford of Jordanhill. It was proposed to
attempt the Castle by escalade. One of the soldiers of the Castle, whose
wife had been whipped by the Governor for some trifling offence, deserted,
and joined the proposed assaulting party, acting as their guide. Late in
the evening, while the mist hung over the hill-top, the band set forth
upon their perilous expedition, marching in single file, the foremost of
the party carrying the ladders, and all keeping together in the darkness
by holding a rope which passed from man to man. Stealthily approaching the
base of the rock, they began to tie their ladders together, and to place
them in position at the most precipitous portion of the mountain. The
reason for thus multiplying the difficulty of the adventure was a sound
one, as the event proved, and Crawford’s own words show that the
schemw had been deeply pondered: "Because thai suspectit nocht the
heighest pairt o’ the craig, thair was not ane watche in that pairt of the
wall above, within sex scoir of futes to the pairt that we entered."
The ascent began under evil
auspices, for the first ladder broke with the weight of the men ere one
had reached a landing-place. When tied and
eked as well as possible it was still two fathoms short of
the point they wished to reach. The leader and one of his men, therefore,
boldly clambered up the face of the rock to an overhanging tree which grew
in a cleft above, and, swinging the ladder by ropes tied thereto, thus
enabled the band to attain another eminence. But
here an unlooked for difficulty arose. One of the men was subject to
epilepsy, and the excitement of the attack had brought on a fit whilst he
was in the act of ascending the ladder. Humanity and prudence alike
forbade that he should be thrown to the ground, and yet their own safety
must be secured by their ascending over him. Fertile in expedients, the
Captain directed that he should be tied to the ladder with ropes, and
then, by turning it the whole of the men were enabled to pass over his
body without injuring him. When they reached the summit
two of the band leaped over the wall and slew
the nearest sentinel, so that the entire troop entered the Castle ere an
alarm had been given, and possessed themselves of it with comparative
ease. No one who has examined the appearance of the rock at the point of
assault will doubt the bravery of Captain Crawford and his gallant
followers.
With one other story of
bloodless capture this record of Dumbarton Castle may be concluded. In the
troublous times when the dominant party sought to force Episcopacy upon
the Scottish nation, the burgh of Dumbarton was governed by Provost
Sempill, a tried and trusty Covenanter, whilst the Castellane was Sir
William Stewart, as faithful an Episcopalian. Shortly after the Assembly
of Glasgow had abolished the new form of religion and denounced the
Bishops, the Provost and Council of Dumbarton concluded that it was their
duty to take their venerable fortress out of the keeping of a recusant who
differed from them in religious matters. They therefore met one Sunday in
the house of the Provost, and sent an invitation to Sir William Stewart to
dine there after service in the Chapel. Suspecting no treachery, he came
unattended amongst them, and was at once met with a demand for the keys of
the Castle. In vain he protested that he had them not, and he was
ultimately compelled to send a messenger to procure them. Then, under
threat of instant death in case of betraying them, he was forced to give
the password for the night, and to exchange clothes with one of his
captors. In the twilight the sham Governor easily gained an entrance to
the Castle, and soon placed his party in possession of it, without the
shedding of blood.
The romance of Dumbarton
Castle has to a large extent departed since the transference of the
Scottish Court to London. No longer a kingly residence, it has only been
visited once by royalty since Queen Mary abode there, when in 1847 the
late Queen Victoria inspected the ancient fortress. But its importance as
a bulwark against invasion is greater now than in the time of Hako the
Dane, since a foreign foe, if unopposed there, may enter by the Clyde to
the richest portion of Scotland, and over-run and devastate the very heart
of the kingdom. And any system of shore fortification which does not
include Dumbarton invites invasion by negligence. The wisdom of our
fathers in this respect was greater than ours, and they would not have
left so important a post to be defended by cannons with oxidized
touch-holes, loaded with balls which may have stood exposed to the storm
since the 19th century was young. If these are to form our defensive
artillery, let us discard our latest machine-guns, and return to more
primitive weapons, and then
"At the sight of Dumbarton once
again,
We’ll cock up our bannets and march amain;
Wi’ braid claymores hangin’ doun to our heel,
To whang at the bannocks o’ barley-meal." |