No. 137 John Graham of Claverhouse, Viscount Dundee
BORN 1643, KILLED IN ACTION 1689.
In armour. Laced band. Broad red sash. Holding a baton.
The eldest son of Sir William Graham of Claverhouse, county Forfar, N.B., by Jane, daughter of John Carnegie, first Earl of Northesk. The family was a branch of the noble house of Montrose, descended from William Lord Graham of Kincardine, by his second wife, Margaret, daughter of Robert III., King of Scotland.
John Graham studied at the University of St. Andrews, but went to France to finish his education, where he entered the army of the Great Monarch as a volunteer. Having resolved on the career of a soldier, he left France, and obtained a cornetcy in the Horse Guards of William Prince of Orange, by whom he was promoted to the command of a troop in 1674, in consideration of his bravery at the battle of Seneffe, in which engagement, indeed, he saved the Prince’s life.
Some time afterwards, Graham applied for the command of one of the Scotch regiments in the Dutch service, but being refused, the young soldier was so disgusted that he threw up his commission and went to England.
Now, although it did not suit the Prince of Orange to grant Graham’s request, he gave him the warmest recommendation to Charles II., who immediately made him commander of a body of horse just levied in Scotland to oppose the rising of the Covenanters, nominally under the orders of the Duke of Monmouth. Graham found himself vested with full power to act as he thought fit, and history and historical romance alike testify to the severity, and even cruelty, with which he carried out his measures.
He entertained a personal hatred to the Whigs, and his hot temper made him vindictive in public as well as private matters. He had no toleration for the opinions, or mercy for the disaffection, of these enthusiasts, numbers of whom he forced, at the point of the sword, to take an oath hateful to their consciences. In 1679, one of their conventicles having been attacked, the peasants rose and defeated a detachment of his troops with considerable loss. Exasperated beyond words at what he considered a disgrace, the General gave vent to his fury, massacring the unfortunate ‘hillside folk,’ who were unarmed; putting to death without a moment’s respite those who refused the test, and making for himself a road of carnage and desolation wherever his march was directed. Who can wonder that he gained for himself the name of ‘Bloody Claver’se’?
The Crown, however, rewarded his zeal by making him Sheriff of Wigtownshire in 1682, captain of a troop in the Royal Regiment of Horse, Privy Councillor in Scotland, together with a grant of the castle of Dudhope, and the office of Constable of Dundee.
Notwithstanding his cruelty to their countrymen, he was much favoured by the Scotch Episcopalians, until his marriage with the granddaughter of the Earl of Dundonald, ‘a fanatic,’ brought him into temporary disrepute.
On the accession of James II., the King was persuaded (on the plea of this marriage) to remove Claverhouse from his seat in the Council; but he was soon reinstated, and successively promoted to the rank of Brigadier and Major-General, and in 1688 created Viscount Dundee and Baron Graham of Claverhouse in Scotland. At the time of his elevation to the Peerage, Dundee was in attendance on the King in London, vainly endeavouring to prevail on the unhappy monarch to make a stand against the Prince of Orange, offering to collect 10,000 of the disbanded troops, and at their head to stem the torrent of invasion. But James was deaf to these manly and vigorous counsels, though one of the last acts of his Government was to intrust Dundee with the management of all military affairs in Scotland.
Thither Claverhouse (for by that name he is best known) repaired, and on arriving in Edinburgh took his seat at a Convention of the Estates then sitting. Here he endeavoured to carry matters with too high a hand, and finding that some of his arbitrary requests were refused, he left Edinburgh in dudgeon, at the head of a large body of horse. Prompt and energetic in all his measures, the General repaired to Stirling, called a parliament of the friends of the expatriated King, and considerably harassed and hampered the movements of his adversaries.
Receiving intelligence of the approach of a force sent by the Convention to seize his person, he retired to Lochaber, where a gathering of the clans soon placed him at the head of a large number of Highlanders, all enthusiastically devoted to his person and the Royal cause.
Dundee now made a fresh appeal to James, then in Ireland, entreating him to cross over to Scotland, where his presence would ‘fix the wavering and intimidate the fearful, and where hosts of shepherds would start up warriors at the first wave of his banner on the mountains.’
But once more his advice was thrown away. James sent him a small store of arms and ammunition, together with some feeble promises and faint words of praise.
Claverhouse had not only the qualities of a great commander, but in his cooler moments possessed the requisites for a ruler and administrator of justice.
On one occasion, at Inverness, he found the inhabitants of that town in arms against a body of neighbouring chiefs, to decide a quarrel respecting some question of debt. He sat in judgment on the matter, severely reproved both parties for drawing their daggers on each other, instead of uniting to support the cause of their royal master; and then, to the surprise and delight of the litigants, he drew the amount of the debt from his own purse and paid it on the spot. In an ecstasy of enthusiasm and gratitude the two adverse parties joined in hearty fellowship, and enlisted with one accord under his banner. Indeed, his influence throughout the country was wonderful, and he entered on a system of communication with all those whom he considered likely to advance the cause for which he worked so zealously. It is unnecessary to recount all his efforts to win adherents, but perhaps the most remarkable of his successes in this particular occurred in the case of a band of Highland vassals raised by Lord Murray on the estate of his father, the Earl of Athole.
While Murray was in the act of reviewing them they quitted their ranks, hastened to a neighbouring brook, filled their bonnets with water, drank the health of King James, and, with pipes playing, marched off to join Dundee. William III. now thought it time to take some decided measures, and he despatched General Mackay (who had distinguished himself in Holland) with a considerable force into Scotland, while James sent orders to his General to avoid a battle until the arrival of fresh reinforcements from Ireland. For these supplies the eager-spirited soldier had to wait two months in the mountains, keeping, however, (according to modern parlance,) his hand in during that time by spirited attacks and retreats. The delay must have been displeasing to the man of whom it was said that the first messenger of his approach was the sight of his army, and the first intelligence of his retreat that he was beyond the enemy’s reach.
No sooner did the raw and ill-provided recruits who formed the promised reinforcement arrive than Claverhouse prepared for active measures. Hearing that Mackay was marching on Blair Castle, in Athole, a fortress of much importance, he resolved to intercept him. Accordingly, when William’s General arrived on the plain at the mouth of the Pass of Killiecrankie, he found Dundee on the surrounding hills awaiting his arrival. He did all he could to incite the enemy to immediate action, but it suited the Scotch commander to delay for some hours.
As the sun of July the 27th, 1689, sank slowly to rest, the word was given, and the Highlanders, whose eager spirits had been controlled for so many hours, dashed down the hillside with even more than their usual impetuosity. It was but the work of a moment: William’s army was routed as if by magic. Dundee, who had fought on foot in the onset, now leaped on his horse and galloped to the mouth of the Pass to intercept the enemy’s retreat. In his hot haste he outstripped his men, and looking round, found himself almost alone, and he waved his sword to motion his men forward, when a musket-ball struck him in the arm-pit. He fell fainting from his horse, and was carried off the field, but soon rallied, and inquired how things went.
On receiving the answer, ‘All is well,’ the gallant soldier replied, ‘Then I am well also,’ and instantly expired.
When King William heard of his death, he said, ‘Then the war in Scotland is over.’
Surely never was countenance more indicative of the inner man than the comely face with which we are so familiar in the portraits of John Graham of Claverhouse. The faultless features, the fair complexion, the profusion of silken hair, and the slight moustache, convey an idea of refinement and delicacy, we should almost say gentleness. But a glance at the dark hazel eyes, full of latent fire, and (even plainer reading to a physiognomist) the determined lines of the exquisitely curved lip, bring us face to face with the obdurate, and (the true word must be spoken) cruel man of blood. He was verily ‘an eagle at assault and a maiden in the bower,’ and there have been few characters that inspired such extremes of love and hatred.
He was idolised by his soldiers, whose hardships he gladly shared in times of privation, often sending, to the sick and wounded among his troops, the dainties which had been provided for himself. Yet so strict was he as a disciplinarian, that for an officer at least, there seemed no slighter punishment for any military fault than death; and indeed he said all other punishment, in his opinion, disgraced a gentleman.
A striking anecdote is told, characteristic of the man himself, and of his system, and worthy of the days of Sparta: A young gentleman was observed by the General to fly in his first action. He had compassion on the boy, and pretended that he himself had sent him to the rear, but alas! on the next occasion the young soldier was again found wanting in courage, and Claverhouse, calling him to the front of the army, shot him with his own pistol, being loath, he said, ‘to let a youth of gentle blood fall by the hand of a common executioner.’
Walter Scott tells us another anecdote, of a less tragic nature, although he does not vouch for its authenticity. The story goes that the gallant Claverhouse had heard of the fame of a certain Lady Elphinstone, aged upwards of a century, and was very desirous to see her. Now the centenarian was a staunch Whig, and required some persuasion to induce her to receive the enemy of her party, but she, perhaps, had some feminine grain of curiosity in her composition, and was tempted by the notion of seeing the far-famed captivating monster.
In the course of conversation the soldier remarked that the lady, having lived so long, must have witnessed many wonderful changes. ‘Hout na, sir,’ answered the stout-hearted old Whigamore; ‘the warld is just wi’ me where it began. When I was entering life, there was ane Knox deaving2 us a’ wi’ his clavers,3 and noo I am ganging out, there is ane Claver’se deaving us wi’ his knocks.’
There can be little doubt the old lady’s courage and humour were equally appreciated by the General.
Lord Dundee married Jane, youngest daughter of Lord Cochrane, and (as before mentioned) granddaughter of the first Earl of Dundonald, by whom he had an only son, James, who succeeded to his father’s titles, but died a few months after.
Notes
2. Deaving, i.e. deafening.
3. Clavers, idle chattering.