Chapter 35
Tarbat House, Cromarty - Friday March 28th, 1746
The Earl of Cromartie stood in the study of his house at Tarbat. A messenger had brought him a despatch from Colonel O'Sullivan. Rob had arrived from Sutherland at the same time.
Cromartie read. "My Lord. His Royal Highness just now received advice that three men of war, three transports, and a small sloop, arrived yesterday into Cromartie bay, and that the first man of war sailed directly to Innerbrakie. It is thought that they had some information that part of the goods brought from Tain were deposed at the storehouse of Innergordon, and that their design is to seize upon them. If really the goods are left at the storehouse of Innergordon, it is necessary the Glengarry’s regiment should be quartered near that place, and have a strong guard on the storehouse; and, to frustrate their designs, to loose no time to order the carriages of the country to send off as soon as possible, what effects are there to this town. We are informed whether grounded or no, that there are no troops aboard those transports, and that they came to transport Louden and his army to joyn at Aberdeen. Be it as it will, it is necessary to take right precautions and be very alerte. The common news here is that Duc William has burnt all the fourage that was in his neighbourhood, and is thought that he's retireing: we have no certainty of this. Nothing presses from the borders of Spey; so it expect you'll have time to reassemble the Caithness men, disarme the others, gather meal and as much money as possible. I found his Royal Highness in parfait good health, and mighty well satisfied with all your operations. I have the honour to be, most sincerely, my Lord, Your Lordship's most humble and most obedient servant, J. O'Sullivan"
The Earl finished reading. He turned to Rob. "Now," he began, "What news of the Sutherland militia. Have they surrendered their arms?"
"No, my Lord,” Rob responded. "Captain Gordon of Carrol agreed to a meeting with us to discuss terms. He did not meet, and we are reliably informed that he took a boat from Golspie and was picked up by a sloop."
"Very well," Cromartie said, striding to and fro across the floor. "If they will not treat with us then we burn their gear!"
"My Lord," Rob protested, "our policy is not to burn. My father will be exceeding disturbed if he is commanded so to do. We also have houses and bairns in them. Think you of the example we present to Duke William."
"My orders are clear," Cromartie announced. “Take them to Glengyle and have them carried out! But first I have a further duty for Glengyle. My Lord of Foulis is in arms against us, but I have a warm regard for his lady at the Castle of Foulis. My Lady has desired that I provide a protection for her as there is an enmity between Foulis and Glengarry. Therefore, I require that your regiment provide a detachment for the guarding of the Castle from depredation."
"My Lord," Rob replied. "Foulis is no great matter. However on behalf of Glengyle, I request your written command regarding the houses in your own hand."
Cromartie’s face reddened. It appeared to Rob as if he would respond with anger. However, it seemed that he thought better of it. Cromartie took up a quill and paper at his desk and scribbled out the written order. "There sir," he said. "Gordon's house of Kintradwell and Clunes's of Cracaig. Your instructions are to burn them."
"My Lord,” Rob said, withdrawing, "at your command. I bid you good day."
Later that day Rob met his father at the castle of Skelbo. Standing on its eminence the four captured ships were in clear view. "So Cromartie would have us burn their houses. Is that the way of it?" Glengyle mused.
"Aye,” Rob answered. "I raised a protest with him, but he would have none of it. He is quite firm that Captain Gordon's house should be burnt and also Captain Clunes's. Cracaig is the factor to the Earl of Sutherland."
"Does he think on the consequence? Does he know what it is like to have your house burnt before your very eyes?" Glengyle was angry. "I should post to Cromartie myself to remonstrate with him."
"I regret that he will not be budged in his resolve. We have no other course than to fulfil his orders. I have them here, written in his hand." Rob showed Glengyle the written command.
"Does he know that Cracaig's wife is unwell and that her children are in a fever? We cannot make her homeless." Glengyle paced up and down. Then he reached his reluctant decision. "We must obey the command. I would refuse it in other circumstances, but these men are in arms against us. I would wish that Cromartie set the fire himself and not us."
Early the next morning, Rob and his company surrounded the house of Cracaig. It was a pleasant stone and mortar house of two stories with its farm offices set a little distance behind it. Rob rapped the knocker. The door opened. "Madam, I have warrant from the Earl of Cromartie. As your husband has refused to treat with us, my Lord Earl commands me to set fire to this house. I will allow two hours for you to remove your possessions and valuables."
Mistress Clunes, visibly shocked, stepped back. A small child peered from behind her skirts. She collected herself and tried to be bold "You cannot make my bairns homeless. They are not well. They have had a fever this past week."
Rob, exceedingly unhappy in his task, responded. "Madam, I greatly regret this pass. My orders are to burn this house, not the offices. There is a good dry barn yonder. We shall leave that untouched."
"There are no men here to shift my gear,” Mistress Clunes protested.
"I have sufficient. I give you my word that we will remove your gear to yonder barn. There are oats, bear and meal stored therein. We shall levy food from your granary and girnals, but there will be sufficient left that your family and dependants will not starve before harvest. Now, mistress, we must to business. I shall allow you five minutes to secure your privy possessions. Thereafter my men will move your furniture and plenishings at your command."
So it went, the men of Clan Gregor carried the furniture and clothing from the house over to the barn. They were proud fighting men who would cheerfully shoot or dirk an opponent in arms. The centuries of oppression under which they had suffered could have made them callous and indifferent to the sufferings of others. It had not, or perhaps they were all conscious of the devastation that could so easily fall on their own houses in far away Glen Gyle, Balquhidder and Rannoch. Rob thought particularly of the fate of Rob Roy's house at Craigrostan when the Duke of Montrose had sent men to burn the house for a claimed debt. James Mòr had told of that grim day in early March when the snow lay on the ground. All the plenishings and stock had been stolen or wantonly destroyed. The house was committed to the flames, Mary MacGregor beaten. Rob could just remember, as a very small child, how the family had come to them for shelter and comfort. He had a clearer recollection of Glen Gyle House being destroyed after the Fifteen. He thought of Jean at home in Stronachlachar and shuddered at the thought of his own little house in flames, his wife and tiny baby, which he had not yet seen, cast out onto the hills.
The beds were carefully shifted into the driest part of the barn, and the sick children carried out of the house, into their beds.
At last the house was empty. Soon the flames were licking hungrily through the stone slates. Dry joists crackled as black clouds of smoke tumbled up into the sky. Red tongues of flame curled around the chimneys.
Rob and his men set off to the house of John Gordon of Carrol at Kintradwell. He did not know, but may have suspected, that Captain Clunes and his company lay in hiding near the summit of Creag Riasgain above Glen Loth. John Clunes watched in tears as his house burned. His lieutenant, Angus Morrison, lay beside him, preventing his mad intention of dashing down the hillside to stop the outrage. Their time would come. Servants at Dunrobin had smuggled ammunition from under the noses of Barrasdale’s men. Vital food had been carried to the hungry men in the hills. The militiamen burned with anger. The struggle had not been theirs when they sat at the Inverness barracks, or when they had shivered at Bonar. Now, with this outrage, they wanted vengeance.
MacGregor Page 37
