Chapter 6
Spring 1744
Glengyle and Rob made their way along the track to Stewart of Glenbuckie’s house at Dalanlaggan. Glengyle pointed to a copse of stunted birch and blackthorn festooned with lichen. “We are observed,” he said. "There he is. I can think of times when if I had hidden in such an obvious manner, I would have been dead! Though it will not be ourselves he is set to watch for."
They walked on. As they passed the copse, the unmoving sentinel paid them little attention. Several armed men sat in the shelter of the byre wall, avoiding the probing keenness of the March wind.
From the outside Glenbuckie's house was a traditional long, low thatched house, unusually long at around eighty feet, and sloped slightly from west to east. The door and all of the tiny half-glazed windows were on the southern side. The northern wall presented a blank aspect to the winter cold. The ends were roughly squared and formed into gables. The house was built of river and glacial boulders rather than dressed stones, which made the corners rounded. The drystone courses were bedded into layers of turf, giving an appearance of a layer cake. The turf and clay bedded the stones firmly in place and prevented draughts penetrating through the wall. The rounded gables had the practical benefit of reducing the howl of the winter gales that would have been more noticeable with a mason-built square gable.
The two reached the door of the house as Glenbuckie himself came out to meet them. "Well then Glengyle, welcome, and to you Rob,” said Glenbuckie. His visitors returned the greeting.
Inside were a series of rooms, each the full width of the building, around thirteen feet internally, leading from one to the other. Both men had to stoop to enter the low doorway, placed about one third distance from the lower gable. They entered a room, which could be thought of as an entrance hall with a beaten earth floor, bare walls and no ceiling under the thatch. The great thickness of the wall which was more than three feet at the base, allowed useful recesses at the small windows, where seats had been placed. At intervals of about six feet along the wall and partly set into it, crucks made from roughly dressed tree trunks arose from stone pediments a few inches above the floor to the wall top where they were jointed with wooden pegs to the couples - less sturdy trunks - of the roof. Crossbeams joined the couples together about two feet below the roof tree at the highest point of the roof. Rows of purlins lay across the couples at intervals. Through the gaps could be seen wattling made of fir branches and above them the underside of turf divots that underlaid the bracken and reed thatch. A fire blazed in a crude hearth in the centre of the floor. The smoke found its own way through the thatch and hung in wreaths among the rafters. Above the fire was a large black pot, bubbling at the end of a chain from a crossbeam. Outdoor clothes, animal skins and tools hung at random around the walls. Several of Glenbuckie's ghillies sat around the fire, waiting their turn to relieve the sentinels outside.
To the right of the entry door, where most tigh dubh would house their animals, was a great surprise. Glenbuckie was extremely proud of his parlour with its wall-panelling and ceiling of sawn timber. Good furniture, pictures, bookshelves and antique weapons hung on the walls. A hanging chimney on the gable wall confined the peat fire that radiated warmth into the room. Woven rugs and deerskins covered the stone slabs that formed the floor.
Across the other side of the entrance hall a door led into the kitchen, panelled though not as finely as the parlour with a fireplace on one wall protected by a stone surround and a fixed iron plate forming a cooking range. This warm room was the den of the women of the family. Wooden presses around the walls contained the pots and pans, crockery - mostly brown Highland ware - as well as bottles of vintage port and home-brewed small beer.
Beyond the kitchen were the bedrooms, completely enclosed box beds, each reached by means of a narrow corridor along the northern wall. Fine linen bedclothes and embroidered counterpanes contrasted with the bare beaten earth floor underfoot.
The tacksman of Glen Buckie raised himself from the easy chair by the fire in the parlour, in order to welcome the visitors. “Aye, Glengyle,” he said “you will know our mutual friend. Rob, this is the Lord John Drummond, brother to the Duke of Perth and the King's ambassador if you will. My Lord, Robert MacGregor of Stronachlachar, Glengyle's second son." Glenbuckie continued, barely pausing. "I was just showing Lord John this great sword which has been in our family for three hundred and fifty years since my royal forebear, the Duke Robert of Albany." The Claidheamh mòr had a plain grip almost a foot in length with straight quillons forming the guard. The three and a half foot long double edge blade, although lightly pitted by rust, still appeared formidable. In the hands of a strong man its weight, momentum and sharp edge could deal mighty blows to the armoured knights of the fourteenth century.
"Ach, Glenbuckie" Glengyle said, "a dragoon would shoot you dead before you had started your swing at him. Nor would you carry it far in a running fight. In any case it did Duke Murdoch little good when King James caught him."
Glengyle referred to King James I who had been held a virtual prisoner in England while his uncle, Duke Robert of Albany had ruled Scotland as Regent. On Duke Robert’s death his son Murdoch had succeeded him as Duke and Regent. Eventually, when it suited the King of England, James Stewart returned to his kingdom and wreaked a terrible vengeance on his kinsman and family. Of Murdoch's sons only one, known as James the Gross, escaped. He was a lineal ancestor of the Stewarts of Glen Buckie. He was also an ancestor of Glengyle, through his grandmother, Margaret Campbell.
Glenbuckie returned the ancient weapon to its place on the wall. Introductions over, they sat down. Glenbuckie continued, "You may have noticed my precautions, out by. We have an idea Lord John's presence is known and that he may have to run at an instant's notice. There are some in Balquhidder who are not friends to our cause, and I suspect there is intelligence being passed to the Whigs of our intentions."
Lord John spoke with a decided French accent, "Indeed Glengyle, it is thought there have been some of your name, though you are thought of most highly, whose sympathies are suspect. It is thought Robert Craigie has an agent amongst us and it has been said your cousin James Mòr is playing both sides against the middle."
"Present me with proof against James Mòr and I shall listen," rejoined Glengyle. "But I shall not traduce him without it and I would advise caution to you in what you may say of him. He is a proud and brave man. He would hazard his all for our cause. but he would reckon an insult to his honour such as this suggestion as deserving revenge above any other consideration. My Lord of Perth once spoke highly of him and yet I am led to understand they have disagreed and James Mòr removed himself and his family to Coire Arclet."
Glenbuckie rejoined, "Let us leave James Mòr out of this. We asked you to confer with us, Glengyle, regarding recruits for the service in France. King Louis is raising another regiment of Scots. They will be well equipped and trained and well paid too. It is to be hoped they will lead the overthrow of the present pack of rogues and villains in the government. How say you Rob, would you return to France with Lord John?"
"Mais oui!" exclaimed Lord John. "A fine strapping man like you, I could obtain a commission as ensign, if your father could provide a few louis d'or for your equipage."
Before Rob could respond, Glengyle answered for him. "I heard, not a few moments ago, that the equipage was to be provided by King Louis. In any case I think Rob has plans a little nearer home."
For all his thirty-four years, Rob felt himself redden at this. He collected himself and replied, "Thank you, my Lord, I am conscious of the compliment which you have paid me. I must decline your kind offer. However, if I can be of assistance in any other way, I would be glad to hear your will."
"Have you had much success in your recruiting my lord?" Glengyle asked Lord John.
"Indifferent, I would say. I had hoped for more. John Stewart of Glentiff has promised four handsome lads. John Drummond, son to Culquhailly, has also agreed on condition of a commis
sion."
"That is the eldest son to the Duke of Perth's chamberlain, is it not?” Glengyle said.
"Oui, c'est ca" responded Lord John, "Peter Drummond of one of the government's militia companies has given me his promise to bring off some of his men. Glenbuckie has prevailed upon Ballachallan to send his brother, but we have our doubts about him."
"I had heard," Glengyle said to Glenbuckie, "that your son Duncan had hopes of a commission."
"Let us say we are discussing possibilities with Duncan,” replied Glenbuckie. "His uncle Duncan in Leith may accompany him."
As they continued their discussions, Jean entered the room with glasses and several bottles of Port on a silver tray. She and Rob smiled at each other. When she left the room, Rob excused himself and followed her back to the kitchen, leaving the others to their drinking.
Later, Rob approached Glenbuckie and requested his permission to marry his sister. Glenbuckie was not too surprised. "I have observed you have been a frequent caller in the past year. I thought your father had been most communicative with his messages to me recently. Does my sister know of your proposal?"
Glengyle, sitting quietly, remained silent. He had expected his son's request and would not be opposed to this alliance.
Rob replied, "Jean and I are in agreement on this. I built a house for Grissel at Stronachlachar and it has been sadly empty since she died two years ago. Jean only desires your assent, sir, in order to marry."
"Very well, you shall have it. Lord John will have to be disappointed. He asked me to persuade you to travel to France with him, but I will not have her become a deserted bride."