Part 3 (2/2)

”You watch your tongue, la.s.s. You aren't too old for a hiding.”

”Mother, this is so silly. I've no intention of getting married, if I ever will. All I wanted is to hear their interesting talk... Please, mother, let me go back inside. I'll cut the fir candles later on.”

”You cut them right now and stop sulking!”

Fighting her anger, Helen fetched the tool for cutting the fast burning wood splinters the Highlanders used as subst.i.tute for wax candles. They needed a large supply to last them through the long winter evenings.

She did not see Andrew again all winter. With the ground covered in snow and all provisions for the winter in storage, there was no need to go to Killin.

At first, her mind wandered from time to time back to their last two encounters. She saw his light green eyes that could exude such a compelling intensity. But as the winter deepened, these flashbacks happened less and less often and then stopped altogether. She hardly gave it a thought when, on her first visit to Killin in the spring of 1745, she caught a glimpse of him, sitting alone behind his little factor's booth, busily engaged in a transaction with a tacksman.

With all the talk of rebellion and the half dozen men of fighting age in their small group making ready to join as soon as word arrived from Glengyle, the seat of clan MacGregors, a cloud of uncertainty hung over the little glen on the slopes of Creag Gharbh. The move into the summer s.h.i.+elings was seriously disrupted.

In August when the call to arms finally came after Prince Charles left France and secretly landed at Borradale on the Western sh.o.r.es of the Highlands, Helen, her younger sister, Betty, and her two teenage brothers, Robin and Alasdair, together with other young people from the clachan, were still up in the s.h.i.+elings. They only learned about the departure of their father when Mary came up to tell them the following day. Robin and Alasdair made no bones about their disappointment for having been left behind. Only their mother's stern warning that their father had promised her solemnly to send them straight back, if they tried to follow, kept them from going after their clansmen.

There was no Crieff rover market, and besides no men to drive the cattle there. This meant no money to buy additional grains for winter and too many cattle for the limited winter feed. They would have to slaughter some of their animals.

The scant reports of the early success of Prince Charles' motley and ill-equipped army, sweeping rapidly down into the Lowlands and taking Edinburgh in a surprise move, reached their clachan by late September and gave rise to celebration and hopes of a quick ending and without much bloodshed. They expected their men to be home safely by Christmas. It was January before news of the reversal of Charles' fortunes finally came in. By then, heavy snow had cut them off almost completely from all contact with the world.

As more news trickled in about the continued withdrawal of Prince Charles' troops back into the Highlands, the women and old people began to worry about what the future had in store for them. Would their men return safe and whole? For the first time in almost a year, Helen was reminded of Andrew's plea to her father to carefully weigh his decision. But she couldn't conceive that her father would have stood aside and waited. It would have been completely contrary to his impulsive character and the MacGregor ethos.

3.

1745 was not a happy year for Andrew. Dougan Graham became bedridden at the onset of the winter in 1744. Suddenly the whole burden of factor fell on the young man's shoulders. Dougan's health improved a bit in late spring, but not enough to allow him to resume his duties. He supervised Andrew as best as he could from his bedside. The young man was constantly on the move, setting up his factor's stall all over the realm of Breadalbane. When his travels brought him back to the castle for Sunday, he was most often too tired even to read.

The younger members of the gentry could talk of nothing else but the impending rebellion, almost wis.h.i.+ng it to happen so that they could join in real battle on the side of the English. At first, Andrew took part, questioning the motives of both sides. But his was a lonely voice, at least in the mess hall. It only raised hostility and derision, particularly on the part of the McNabb brothers. So he kept quiet. In fact, as spring changed into summer, more often than not he ate dinner alone. Occasionally, he joined Dougan Graham for a meal.

As Andrew had predicted, when the Earl of Breadalbane sent out the first call in August for his va.s.sals to mobilize their men, he asked Andrew to remain in his position as the de facto factor.

”A rather unfortunate decision,” sneered John. ”You won't be able to prove that you're a real man.”

Although Andrew kept looking out for Helen whenever he was in Killin, he never saw any of the MacGregors all that year. Their rent payments fell in arrears again. He wondered how she was, wondered whether by now she fancied a young man from the MacGregor clan. But most nights, before he fell asleep, he conjured up her picture. They hadn't faded or become blurred with the pa.s.sing of time and were still as vivid and clear as on the first night. Sometimes, her face appeared in his dreams in a veil of mist, and more than once he woke with a sense of disquiet.

And then came the news of Prince Charles' defeat at Derby, his rapid withdrawal North, and reports of widespread clansmen desertions from his camp, gleefully received at the castle. There were also rumors that in the Western Highlands and on the Island of Mull English troops and the Campbells of Argyle had begun plundering and burning the clachans left defenseless by the men who had joined the rebellion. After Prince Charles abandoned the futile siege of Stirling Castle in the face of the English army closing in on the Highlands, the Earl of Breadalbane sent his cavalry to join c.u.mberland, the McNabb brothers and James Campbell among them. Andrew felt a sense of relief to see them go. When the first white and pink crocuses raised their delicate blooms in the early spring of 1746, only a small number of soldiers were left for the defense of Finlarig Castle. It was now but a matter of days before the back of the rebellion would be brutally broken in the moors of Culloden.

A few days after that battle, the gates of the castle were firmly locked and the garrison of twelve men under the leaders.h.i.+p of the aging Lord Glenorchy took up battle stations, while the MacGregors marched by with their pipes playing, and the pine-sprig badge of Clan Gregor on their bonnets. The Earl did not even think of stopping them, glad that they seemed content to continue to their own glens. Little did they know that the royal troops and the forces from Argyle had already set the torch to many of their homes.

From a window high up in the tower Andrew watched them march by in good order. They were too far away to recognize individual faces. He wondered if Helen's father was among them.

In the middle of May, a platoon of English infantrymen took up quarters at the castle. They were part of a force sent in from the garrison at Perth to disarm and punish the MacGregors, MacLarens, and other clan branches in Perth and Breadalbane who had joined the rebellion. The larger portion pushed into Glengyle, Craigroyston, and the Braes of Balquhidder, frustrated by the MacGregors simply fading farther into the hills before them. They plundered and burned every house and cottage and drove off any four-legged animal they could lay hands on.

Lord Glenorchy ordered Andrew to submit within the day a list of all clachans between Kenmore and Crianlarich where any menfolk had joined up with Prince Charles. For some reason, Andrew put Dougal MacGregor's at the bottom of the list. The day after, he was seconded to Lieutenant Gordon, the officer in charge of the platoon -his a.s.signment to guide the troops in their punitive actions. Andrew had little notion of what that meant. He expected them to search for weapons and arrest the men who had served under Charles.

When he reported to Lieutenant Gordon, the latter was pouring over a map of the area, Andrew's list in his hand. He immediately asked him to mark all locations on the map and then questioned him about the size of each clachan, expounding his intention to secure the biggest ones first. The first expedition was to march off at five o'clock the following morning.

That evening, Andrew had an uneasy feeling in his guts. He didn't trust the man. His dislike was heightened when over dinner he had to listen to him bragging about his exploits in the campaign, and saw him pinch the bottoms of the servant women, groping under their skirts, and laughing loudly when they squirmed away from him.

The troops filed out of the castle yard on the double just as the eastern horizon began to light up at the edge of the clouds. Their first destination was a clachan of MacLarens some eight miles up Glen Lochay. Andrew was riding at the front of the column next to Lieutenant Gordon, his four dragoons behind them. To his surprise, the soldiers seemed to be eager and in good spirits, full of antic.i.p.ation, despite the grueling pace of the forced march under a darkening sky of gray clouds relentlessly rolling in from the Northwest, as if the sky wanted to hide what was coming. A bare two hours later the outlines of their target came into view about half a mile away. The troop now split into three groups. The plan was to swoop on the clachan in a pincer movement. Gordon invited Andrew to join him with the main section, taking the middle. Andrew agreed, curious to see a group of professional soldiers in action.

The barking of several dogs raised the alarm, and before the soldiers could reach the first houses, shouts and shrill cries of fear echoed through the cottages. Within seconds, men, children, and women carrying babies or toddlers ran from the houses, some only half-dressed, and made for the woods behind the clachan. Some of the stragglers were caught by the soldiers closing in from the side and any valuables they carried, including their plaids taken away. When the first people emerged, the dragoons, their swords drawn, immediately galloped ahead, aiming for the men. They brutally ran down two of them, both elderly. One tried to rise. With a blow of the sword, a dragoon struck him down again. The four riders abandoned their pursuit when the fugitives disappeared in the woods.

By then, the soldiers began storming into the cottages, driving out the few remaining people, mainly old men, who were cursing at the top of their lungs, old women, crying and lamenting, and two or three young mothers, fearfully clutching their babies to their bosoms. Other soldiers began carrying the people's belongings from the cottages-pots, dishes, clothing, bed covers, grains, furniture. Those coming in from the side began herding the cattle, ponies, and other livestock.

Suddenly, Andrew's curiosity turned into a sick apprehension. They weren't going to harm these people, he tried to rea.s.sure himself. What they were doing had nothing to do with securing the clachan. They were simply looting all their possessions! He wanted to protest and looked around to find Lieutenant Gordon. Then he saw him stuffing several pieces of silverware into his large coat pockets with a pleased grin.

Desperate, weak cries made him turn around. Shocked, he watched how a young soldier roughly tore a plaid away from an old, frail woman, and then tried to pry open her gnarled fingers to get the brooch she was clutching.

”Leave her alone,” Andrew yelled outraged, ”aren't you ashamed to steal from a woman old enough to be your grandmother?”

He nudged his horse toward the soldier. The latter, intimidated by the animal or by Andrew's air of authority, let go of the old woman. In her rush to get away, she stumbled and fell, the brooch dropping from her hand. Quickly, the soldier jumped to pick it up, slipped it into his pocket, grinning gleefully, and then ran to join his fellow soldiers, who were emptying out a cottage farther on. For an instant, Andrew was tempted to go after him, but then he thought better of it. He would come out as the loser.

A quarter hour later, Lieutenant Gordon rode up. ”One of my men reported that you interfered when he executed his duty of confiscating enemy property. Is that the case, sir?” He placed a p.r.o.nounced emphasis on the 'sir'.

Andrew, still boiling in anger and disgust, let his dislike for Lieutenant Gordon come to the fore, and he countered sharply: ”You call that confiscating enemy property? Stealing a plaid from an old woman? Yes, I told him to be ashamed.”

The officer seemed to puff himself up an inch or two. ”Sir, I must warn you. They are executing my orders, and I will tolerate no interference with the duties of my men.”

”And your orders are to steal from old women, Lieutenant Gordon. Is that what lieutenants in the English army order their soldiers to do?” Andrew emphasized the man's rank.

Lieutenant Gordon went crimson and steered his horse closer. ”Master Andrew, I warn you one last time. Do not interfere or I will order my men to arrest you. You were seconded to me as a guide. That's your only role. And now withdraw beyond the village and wait until I summon you again.” He turned his horse abruptly and trotted back to his troops.

Andrew was left fuming, on the verge of going after him, ready to smash the grin off his face. But then he realized the futility of such an action. The dragoons would strike him down before he could land a second blow. Feeling utterly helpless, he swallowed his rage and rode to the edge of the settlement. The officer was correct. The earl's orders were to serve as guide.

For the next hour he had to witness the shameful plunder and wanton destruction perpetrated by the soldiers. No search party went after the men who had fled. They were only interested in the loot. Anything that could be removed was greedily taken. What could not be carried or loaded on carts, the rifle b.u.t.ts smashed to pieces or the bayonets ripped apart. And then they set the torch to the thatched roofs of the pitiful cottages, broke off the branches of fruit trees, and uprooted the crops. The English and their Highland allies had crushed the rebellion. Wasn't that enough? Was there a need to also rape the whole country? Andrew's rage turned into shame, growing heavier by the minute. Shame of being a Campbell, of belonging to the clan that were the staunchest allies of the English subjugators. He would go and report this outrage to Lord Glenorchy in person and tell him that he refused to be party to such action. If need be he would quit his employment.

Back at the castle and without waiting for any instructions from Lieutenant Gordon, Andrew immediately went to the factor's quarters. As usual, Dougan Graham was pleased to see him.

”Tell me, lad, how did that expedition go?” Then noticing Andrew's somber face, he asked: ”Was there trouble?”

”More than that! I would not believe if somebody told me, had I not seen it with my own eyes,” the young man exclaimed, the rage he had bottled up until now breaking to the surface. ”They burned down the clachan. Stole anything they could. They even ripped the branches off the trees... The dragoons ran down people with their horses. I could do nothing to prevent it. Even old women ...” His vision blurred. He turned away ashamed, wiping the tears with the sleeve of his coat.

For a short while, Dougan looked pensive, then said: ”Tell me, Andrew.”

Haltingly and then with ever increasing vehemence, Andrew gave an account, ending in his altercation with Lieutenant Gordon.

”You better be careful, my lad. He could easily have you arrested for disobeying orders.” He touched Andrew's arm. ”You know, the reason he might not have done it is that he needs you right now. n.o.body around here knows this region and the lord's tenants better than you.”

”But how could he? I'm not in the army. They can't court-martial me.”

”Oh, yes, my lad. They can. The Earl seconded you, so you fall under martial orders, even if you have not been officially enlisted. So watch out what you do or say. Besides, Gordon could easily accuse you of being a Jacobite sympathizer. With all this hysteria, the suspicion alone could land you in jail, you know. And there would be little hope for justice now.”

<script>