IT WAS, ON the face of it, surprising how few were the repercussions to this stirring episode, or at least, the evident repercussions. Apart from the fact that Rob kept Mary away from Monachyle for a while, it was almost as though it had all never happened. No more troopers came to Balquhidder, Glen Gyle or Craigrostan; perhaps Lord Murray did not want to risk advertising one failure with another. In fact, he probably disclaimed all connection with the incident, in the fashion of politicians. It was some time before Rob Roy allowed himself to be seen in populous places like markets and town streets without a sizeable bodyguard of husky MacGregors – but otherwise he continued his activities as before. Indeed the Watch was especially active, notably on the perimeter of the vast Atholl estates, where a sudden and unaccountable outbreak of thievery began to decimate the cattle herds of the old Marquis and his tenants, demanding the Watch’s intervention. Soon deputations of tenants were calling upon the old Lord and his son Murray, urging them to become subscribers to the Glengyle Watch, for self-preservation’s sake a thing which father and son had resolutely refused to consider hitherto. Rob did not yet risk bringing Mary back to Monachyle, although he resumed use of the place for grazing and droving purposes; but there were plenty of hospitable houses deep in MacGregor territory where they were welcome to stay, especially at Inversnaid, inaccessible on the eastern shore of Loch Lomond and the main house of Kilmanan, the chief’s Craigrostan estate, where Rob was now almost as good as master.
So a precarious balance prevailed – though on the surface all was calm and normal. Everyone knew that the government, egged on by Murray, would clip Rob’s wings if it could; and Rob was not the man to forget the attack made upon him on Murray’s orders. One day there must be an accounting, one way or the other. When it happened, it could be expected to be dramatic.
Strangely enough, however, there was in fact no accounting nor dramatics – none that have ever been recorded. It is one of the minor mysteries of history how Rob Roy MacGregor, the Highland freebooter, and Lord Murray, soon to be created Earl of Tullibardine and Viscount Glenalmond by a grateful monarch in his father’s lifetime, came to terms and buried the hatchet. It seems the unlikeliest thing to have happened; two proud men with a long history of family and personal animosity, one at the pinnacle of his career as ruler of Scotland, the other all but an outlaw, his very name forbidden him, coming together abruptly and agreeing not only to let bygones be bygones, but in fact to co-operate from then onwards.
But that is what happened. Murray, it seems, was the one to open negotiations. He used another MacGregor who had adopted his own surname of Murray, as a go-between, and Rob was offered a complete pardon, a wiping clean of the slate, safe conduct, and great advantages in the future – all so long as he merely made a formal statement of regret for past disturbances of the king’s peace and acknowledged the authority of the government.
On the face of it, this seems hardly credible. But it was true, and there was no catch in it. To prove this beyond doubt, an official bond was to be drawn up, in the usual Highland manner, with lofty witnesses to its signing, so that it could not be repudiated by either party. It is interesting to note that one of these witnesses was the later famous Simon Fraser, Lord Lovat, one of the most intriguing characters in Scottish history, who was eventually executed in London for his part in the Jacobite Rising of 1745. Rob’s guarantors or sureties were the no less notable individuals of Alexander MacDonnell of Glengarry, chief of one of the greatest branches of Clan Donald, and Alexander, brother of the new MacIan of Glencoe. There is something significant about these three names, as we shall hear presently.
There have been criticisms of the seemingly subservient terms of the wording of the bond which Rob Roy duly signed before these witnesses, at Dunkeld House, Murray’s home, on June 22nd, 1695. For a proud chieftain it may, today, seem over-submissive. But it must be remembered that this was how even the highest in the land wrote in those days, when a victorious general could sign himself to a defeated enemy as ‘… I have the honour to be, with very great respect my lord, your lordship’s most obedient and most humble servant’, and kings and prime ministers themselves penned such florid sentiments.
The bond was wordy and lengthy, but it does not make very clear just what advantages Rob was getting out of it all – understandably, perhaps, for it was in effect committing the government to an attitude that it could hardly wish to have broadcast. The price Rob had to pay was only in words – the following humble words:
… for as much as an noble Lord, John Lord Murray, is pleased to receive me into his Lordship’s favour notwithstanding of my many ungrateful deportments and undecent carriages for some years by past … the said Robert Roy Campbell, sometime McGregor, son to Lieut. Col. McGregor, shall hereafter and in all time coming, not only behave himself as a loyal and dutiful subject under this present government but also as an honest, faithful and obedient servant to the noble Lord and shall present himself to his Lordship when ever required.
Murray made up this peculiar statement, and Rob signed it of his own free will. Why? Many must have asked that question – but I have never heard any attempt at an answer. Perhaps I may be permitted to offer an answer of my own, on some little knowledge of the characters involved, the state of affairs in Scotland – and England too – at the time, and subsequent history?
I think it quite probable, in fact, that Rob himself was the instigator of the proceedings, not Murray. I think that Rob was indeed using the same methods that he did in his protection-racket business, to deal with the threat of Murray and the government. In the matter of the Watch and the cattle protection, this has been called by the unkind name of blackmail; I would hesitate to call it that, but I would suggest that Rob used some very real pressure on the Secretary of State to make him call off his campaign against him, and to cooperate instead. The bond, I suggest, was merely a way of whitewashing it all, making it possible for Murray to agree to Rob’s demands without a suspicious sacrifice of outward dignity.
If this is so, such pressure must have been powerful. What could a young Highlander of 25 years, not even a chieftain of a sept, member of a proscribed and persecuted clan, do, to bring His Majesty’s Principal Secretary of State more or less to his knees? I think the answer may be found in what Rob knew. I think it is significant that those three witnesses to the bond were, all in a few years time, to be active leaders in the Jacobite cause, as was Rob himself.
Is it too much to believe that Lord Murray, the powerful Whig Secretary of State, soon to be not only Earl of Tullibardine but created first Duke of Atholl, was in fact all the time secretly either a Jacobite sympathiser or prepared to be one if politically advantageous? That he was in secret touch with King James in France, while so prominently serving King William in London? If so, he was by no means the first to take such precautions. The Atholl family, after all, were half Stewarts; Stewart-Murray was and still is their name, and they were descended from the royal House of Stewart. As a family they were more Jacobite than otherwise, whatever the politics of the old marquis and his eldest son Murray. The Secretary of State had a number of sons of his own, and most of them fought for the Stewarts in the subsequent two Risings, one of them being none other than the famous Lord George Murray, Prince Charlie’s principal general. Another, the rightful second duke, led the Clan Murray for the Pretender, and a third, Lord Charles, was sentenced to death after capture.
At this time, about 1695, the Jacobite cause was taking on a new hopefulness, after being in the doldrums for years. So much so that Dutch King William, who had no children, even suggested that after his death King James’s son, the exiled Prince of Wales, should succeed to the throne. Moreover, a new group of Jacobite advisers were gaining power with James, called the Compounders – that is, compromisers, political moderates who urged new and less extreme policies on the former king which might well have gained enough popularity to have turned the people of England as well as Scotland back to his favour. The famous Test Act was to be respected; it required everyone who held office in church or state to sign a declaration, very ambiguous in terms, that they would not seek to overturn the established Protestant religion. The Church of England was to be maintained, and all laws passed since the Revolution confirmed thus banishing the bogey of the Stewarts trying to make Britain Catholic again, which was the main thing against them. So politicians in high places might well be doing some hard thinking about their futures, those in Scotland particularly.
In this connection it is interesting to note that a few years later, in 1703, Murray, by this time Duke of Atholl, was in fact openly accused of being involved in the abortive Jacobite scheme called ‘The Scotch Plot or Conspiracy’, and by no less a person than the same Simon Fraser, Lord Lovat, witness to that bond, who was then acting as an emissary between the Old Pretender and his supporters in this country. Whether this accusation had any truth in it or not – for Lovat was an unscrupulous man and had become an enemy of Atholl’s – is not clear. But at any rate it was Rob Roy who gave evidence then to help clear Atholl’s name – a strange situation. Atholl was forced, however, to give up his position in the government.
How did Rob Roy come into all this intrigue and political manoeuvring? I have said that he was a confirmed Jacobite, like his father before him, but kept his politics under his bonnet. That is true, but though he did so secretly and very discreetly, he never ceased to work for a Stewart restoration. His mode of life made him a most suitable link between Jacobites, for he was always moving about the country, calling on lairds and landowners, attending fairs and markets and so on. What would have been suspicious activities on the part of most men, were his normal routine. He seems to have been a trusted courier and go-between from very early days, and as such was in a wonderful position to learn exactly what was going on in the secret world of political tug-o’-war. It is my guess that he discovered that Murray was making tentative approaches so as to be ready to change sides if necessary, and let Murray know that he knew, using his knowledge to force the Secretary of State to change the government’s entire attitude towards himself. I may be wrong, but I cannot think of any other situation that would account for this sudden and totally unlooked for compact between these two men.
At all events, for the time being the barometer was set fair for Rob Roy MacGregor. There are no accounts of trouble with the law or the government – nor any of the Atholl estates having trouble with cattle thieves either. The Watch went from strength to strength. Rob’s cattle-dealing business spread and prospered, and he became a sort of cattle king in Scotland. He extended his droving and dealing activities far north into the remote West Highlands and Islands, and even down over the Border into England. And all this time he was carrying messages, orders, plans, between King James’s scattered supporters, as gradually the Jacobite cause grew strong again.
In those five years Rob Roy’s peace and prosperity grew to be almost a trial to him – for he was of course a man who loved adventure, stirring doings and the clash of temperament and arms. But he could console himself that the time was coming when the Stewart cause must be put to the test – and then, undoubtedly, there would be adventure and clash to spare!
Strangely enough, the very success of his efforts to bring the rule of his own kind of law and order to the important and hitherto ever-troubled area where Highlands and Lowlands met, produced its own problems, requiring something of a return to vigorous action for a while. What happened was that, as months and years passed without any thefts of cattle occurring, thanks to Rob’s effective system, a small number of lairds and farmers began to feel that they were paying their protection money for nothing. Here and there, therefore, individuals began to default on their payments. A foolish but perhaps not unnatural reaction. I suppose that there are still people who stop paying their fire insurance premiums because they have never actually seen their house on fire.
Rob was annoyed – but at the same time almost gleeful. It became necessary to teach such short-sighted folk a lesson. Sudden outbreaks of cattle-lifting shook the countryside once again, and on a major scale. It was not just a few beasts that were apt to be involved, but the entire stock of sundry lairds disappeared overnight – usually of people who had omitted to renew their subscriptions to the Glengyle Watch. Angry complaints to the authorities produced only polite condolences. It was not long, however, before simple arithmetic triumphed over both indignation and pride, and Rob Roy’s services were recognised once more as well worth paying for.