Edinburgh Castle (12)

Those who read two photos back about Bonnie Dundee's departure from Edinburgh in 1689, might be wondering what became of the Duke of Gordon and his castle garrison. Well, here's the answer!

 

The Castle for King James! A.D. 1689

 

When on Ravelston's cliffs "the wild war notes of Bonnie Dundee" had died away, the Duke of Gordon turned him to his hard task to defend the Castle entrusted to his care by his Sovereign, and maintain the 'maiden fortress' inviolate until the promised relief should come. Within twenty days Dundee had said he would return at the head of his victorious Highlanders. Only three weeks! Could the Castle be held till then? The Duke was a brave soldier, an honourable man, and a patriotic Scot, albeit a most loyal servant of King James. No better defender could the Castle have had. Under him what could be done would be done. But he was fighting against heavy odds; and he knew it.

 

Already he had received a taste of what was to come, for since 9th December the Castle had been on its guard at first against any sudden attack by an infuriated mob such as on that day had stormed Holyrood and wrecked the Chapel Royal; and latterly against 'any attempt to enforce what the governor considered the unconstitutional demand of the Privy Council, that he, being a Papist, should surrender the Castle to them. More serious, but equally ineffectual, was a similar request made on 14th March by the Earls of Lothian and Tweeddale on behalf of the Convention of Estates, which had then met. And most ominous of all was the formal demand which then followed. Clothed in full official dress, the royal heralds appeared before the Castle gates and summoned the Duke to surrender, proclaiming him a traitor if he should refuse, and promising a reward of six months' pay to the Protestants in the garrison if they would seize the Duke and deliver up the Castle. But, despite the threat and the danger, the Duke refused to comply. "Tell the Convention," he said, "I keep the Castle by commission from our common master, and am resolved to defend it to the last extremity." Then, with a good-humoured irony, such as often lightened the serious conflicts of these days, he handed some guineas to the heralds, telling them to drink the King's health and that of all honest men in the Convention, and added; "I would advise you not to proclaim men traitors to the State who have the King's coat on their backs at least until they have turned it.

 

After this there was no alternative but that of arms. But first, ere the siege should begin in earnest, the Duke made sure that none were within the Castle unwillingly. Parading the whole garrison, he gave to all who so desired the opportunity to leave. Eighty soldiers, forming nearly half the force, availed themselves of the opportunity, and there was left a depleted garrison of three officers (the Duke of Gordon, Colonel Winram the Lieutenant-Governor, and Ensign Winchester), four sergeants, sixty privates, and twenty volunteers. A small band truly for the work that was waiting! But more serious even than the paucity of men was the deficiency of stores and ammunition. Only seventeen bombs were in the magazine, and of powder and ball barely sufficient for three months' defence. Yet with a brave heart, hoping much and daring more, the Duke made all necessary arrangements for the defence, and on 18th March, the day of Dundee's departure, the real siege began.

 

That day the Castle was invested by forces hastily raised by the Convention, and drawn mainly from the Cameronian Whigs who thronged the city. In later times the fine regiment thus brought into being has won for itself a name and fame second to none*, and even in these first days of its soldiering. its keenest opponents had to admit the intense zeal and fighting power of the men; though coupled with such admissions there might be sundry other reflections of a different kind. "These Cameronians," writes one of the Castle garrison, who kept a most valuable diary of the siege, "are the worst kind of Presbyterians, who confine the Church to a few of the western shires of the kingdom of Scotland ; disclaim all kings (save King Jesus) who will not worship God after their way; think it their duty to murder all who are out of the state of grace that is, not of their communion; in a word, who take away the second table of the decalogue upon pretence of keeping the first; and who are only for sacrifice, but for no mercy at all."

 

(*As a former Gordon Highlander, I can’t entirely agree with that!)

 

Anyhow, these Cameronians made good soldiers, and for a week they watched the Castle well. But for siege work troops of experience and gunners of accurate aim were needed; and on 25th March there arrived from England three regiments under General Mackay, bringing with them "cannons, provisions, arms, and ammunition," and the Cameronians were relieved of their first military duty.

 

Batteries were at once erected and trenches dug, and soon the Castle was exposed to a fairly continuous artillery fire, to which, through lack of artillery ammunition, it could make but little effective reply. At times, however, the Castle guns did bark now at the ruined tower of Castle Collops on the High Riggs, where a battery had been erected, and again at the old tower of Coates and generally a bite followed the bark. But the Duke wished to avoid, as far as possible, inflicting any injury on the buildings of the town, and this placed a restraint on the efforts of his gunners, such as those of the besieging force knew nothing of, with the result that the Castle garrison sustained far heavier damage than did the besiegers.

 

The life within the Castle in these strenuous days is reflected in the welcome Diary of the Siege. At first the spirits of the garrison were high. When tidings arrived that King James had landed in Ireland they spent some of their precious ammunition in making the guns roar out a royal salute, and in the evening bonfires blazed exultingly on the ramparts. A few days later they poked fun at the besiegers. By beat of drum they asked a parley, and gravely requested that they might be supplied with a few packs of cards for their amusement! It was a pleasing bit of bravado, for truly little time had the men for cards.

 

By the middle of May they had less. Fresh troops arrived to help the besiegers, and additional artillery. Heriot's Hospital and Mouterhouse Hill (the site of the Register House) were each provided with a battery, and the rain of bombs upon the Castle became incessant. Still the garrison kept cheerful. Bombs did not travel then with the velocity of modern shells, and could usually be avoided. But the buildings could not avoid them, and very soon the accurate range and elevation having been obtained, every roof in the Castle was shattered. The church was destroyed, the Royal quarters were seriously damaged, and the only safe retreat for those who were off duty was in the vaults underground. Still there was no despair. Food continued sufficient, and a growing anxiety about the water-supply was temporarily removed by an event which was regarded as an expression of Nature's sympathy with the Stuart cause! On 2Oth May there was a snowstorm of such uncommon severity that all over the Castle yard the snow lay to a depth of two feet. A large quantity was hastily collected, and in melting supplied the men with the much-needed water; and still the hearts of the besieged kept hopeful.

 

In the city they had numerous friends with whom they contrived to maintain frequent communication, and so kept in touch with those who were fighting King James's cause elsewhere. For this most valuable intercourse they were especially indebted to a lady, Mrs Ann Smith, a keen Jacobite, the window of whose house was visible from the Castle. Should a friend wish to visit the Castle she signalled from her window, and that night a party of six would leave the fortress by a gateway on the north wall overlooking the Nor' Loch, and, descending the rock, would row to the other side of the Loch and convey the visitor, who was ready waiting. On safe return a musket was discharged from the Half-Moon Battery, and Mrs Smith knew that all was well.

 

But on 31st May this refreshing intercourse with the outer world came to an abrupt end, and in a manner that cast a gloom over the whole garrison. It was discovered in the morning that five men had deserted overnight to the enemy! At once the Governor realised what this would mean to their friends in town, and hastily despatched a messenger to warn them of their danger and bid them flee. But the warning came too late; the deserters had been beforehand. Every friend of the Castle was arrested and imprisoned, especially hard being the treatment meted out to Mrs Smith. The secret approaches to the fortress, being now revealed, were strongly guarded, and the information received as to the straits of the garrison for food and ammunition caused the siege to be pressed more vigorously than ever. Entrenchments were thrown up on the eastern approach, not far from the Half-Moon Battery, and in exultation an orange flag was fluttered in sight of the besieged.

 

It was evident to the Duke that unless some unforeseen event happened the struggle must quickly cease, so, summoning the garrison together, he told them plainly how things stood, and again gave to every man the opportunity of withdrawing from the Castle. To their honour, be it said, not a man availed himself of the offer. Thanking them for their loyalty, the Duke at the same time assured them that he would not put an unreasonable strain upon their devotion. "Gentlemen," he said, "if we be not relieved in a competent time I will capitulate; and every one of you shall have as good terms as myself."

 

A week of vigorous cannonading followed, in the course of which the wall of St. Cuthbert's Church was breached by the Castle guns, as some of the besieging force had sheltered themselves behind it. But things in the Castle were getting steadily worse. Twenty men were sick, and "scarce forty were healthful to do duty"; the water was foul and scanty; the food was running done, there being "not victuals for ten days save bread and salt herrings"; and, worst of all, the ammunition was nearly exhausted. It was the beginning of the end. Before however yielding to the inevitable, one last endeavour was made by the Duke to find if there were any chance of relief coming. On the night of 9th June Mr John Grant was lowered over the rocks opposite the West Port, with instructions to make his way to friends and signal to the Castle if there was hope of help. Anxiously the Duke waited all next day, but no signal was given. On 9th June it came. Alas, it was 'No help.' So the drums beat a parley, and the white flag was put out.

 

Not at once, however, came the end. Negotiations indeed began, but when the Duke asked terms and exchange of hostages in security, his request was abruptly negatived. The only terms were to be unconditional surrender. So in anger the negotiating parties separated, and the fight went on. A few more lives had to be sacrificed before the end should come. That very night a storming party attacked the Castle on the north side, but only to be driven back to the water's edge with several losses. "Advance, you dogs!" the officers were heard to cry, and the men on the ramparts jeered. "Dogs," they shouted, "will you not obey your officers, you dogs?" Similar failure waited a further attack which was made next day by the main approach, when the attacking force was repelled by the garrison, who kept their spirits up by singing throughout the firing, "The King shall enjoy his ain again."

 

But that was the finish. On the following day, 13th June, the white flag again fluttered from the wall; negotiations for surrender were completed, and the fortress of Scotland's capital passed for ever from the hold of the Stuarts. To the garrison was given freedom to depart; to Colonel Winram was granted security of life and property; to the gallant governor was promised only what grace King William might see fit to bestow. More had not been asked. "For myself," the Duke had said, "I have too much confidence in all the princes who are descended from James VI to insist on any particular terms, though I must secure a pardon for my soldiers."

 

It is pleasing to know that the gallant soldier's confidence in the other brave soldier who now sat on the throne of the Stuarts was not misplaced; nor did William's clemency to the defender of the Castle go unjustified. A thorough Jacobite indeed the Duke remained to the day of his death, but the promise he gave to King William of passive loyalty to his rule was never broken. Honoured by both parties alike, he spent the rest of his days in the quiet retreat of his northern home, and still lives in the memory of his countrymen as the soldier who held the Castle for his exiled King with a loyalty and courage that confer a lustre on the cause that was upheld by so leal a servant.

 

Done