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'My
good friends and companions,' he said, Sve face an unexpected
challenge and opportunity. Your enemy, and mine, the Marquis of
Argyll, is all but within striking distance of us here. Unsuspecting.
At Dunkeld, his troops settled for the winter, his cavalry gone
south. I had not believed that he would remain so far north, on the
verge of these Highlands. He is seeking to lay Atholl under his evil
sway. The homes of many of you. Are you with me in surprising the
Campbells?'

The
throaty roar greeting that left no doubts as to the reaction.

'I
need not tell you what it would mean to the King's cause, to all
Scotland, if we could capture Argyll
...
! Wait, you! Wait, you! I have boasted of you, my friends, that you
can cover more miles of this land in fewer hours than any other men
living. Now, prove it! You know the shortest way to Blair, where the
Campbell has come to threaten the young Earl. Thirty miles by the
roads men follow. But less through the mountains, I am told. How long
until you are chapping at Blair Castle door?'

'By
daybreak tomorrow!' somebody yelled, and there was a gleeful shout of
approval.

'See
to it, then. And I with you...'

So,
leaving Lord Airlie to bring on at a more modest pace the older men,
those slightly wounded, and such as might hold them back, some
350
of
them set out on as major a physical test as could have been devised
for an armed force, even mountaineers. It was not a march, more of an
endless loping trot, by drove roads, cattle-tracks, deer-tracks and
no tracks at all, contouring dark hillsides, ploutering through bogs
and peat-hags, crossing high passes, threading woodland, wading
rivers. There was half a moon, fitfully shining through scudding
clouds, and for late November the weather was reasonably kind. But
conditions for travel were appalling nevertheless, and could only
have been endured by such men as these, hardened hillmen and
veterans, toughened by hard campaigning and challenged to their
utmost, travelling light, untrammelled, bearing only shoulder-slung
swords, pistols and dirks.

Thev
avoided the long, long bend of the main drove road threading the Pass
of Drumochter by heading almost due eastwards, climbing high to start
with, up the deep scar of a corrie, or hanging valley, and so over
trie snowy ridge of Cam na Caim and down over wicked country to
lonely Loch an Duin beyond. Here they could turn south down the
Eden-don River, mile upon mile of it, the watershed behind them. The
snows of the upper reaches at least meant that the bogs were frozen
hard. But it was a killing journey.

At
last the Edendon brought them down into the main central valley of
Atholl, at Dalnacardoch where they joined die drove road again,
having saved almost six miles. At least they had had no lack of
guides, for many of the Athollmen knew even this empty wilderness.
They had covered some thirteen savage miles, and taken almost seven
hours to do it Already Montrose was desperately weary, not yet fully
himself after his sickness of six weeks earlier. Stewart of
Dalnacardoch, roused at two hours past midnight, provided cold
venison, raw oatmeal and whisky. All had a little. His son was with
the party.

There
was still a dozen miles to go to Blair, and before they were half-way
down the wide Strath of Garry, it was sheer spirit that was keeping
James Graham going, a determination at all costs not to fail die
others - and not to betray legs of clay, as well as feet thereof, to
young Johnnie who was still going strongly.

With
the moon setting behind the black mountains of Craiganour to die
north-west, they reached Blair-in-Atholl diirteen hours and
twenty-five miles after leaving Glen Truim, a feat possibly
unrivalled in Scots military history for any large body of men on
foot. There and then, silently, avoiding the township which was the
home of not a few of them, they surrounded the great castle, and
began to close in.

They
were fairly near before the alarm was raised. Montrose had his
trumpeter sound die summons and make his presence and identity known.
But known only to the Countess, the Earl's mother - not to
Archibald Campbell. To die grievous disappointment of all, they
learned that Argyll had moved back to Dunkeld the previous afternoon,
taking young Atholl with him. Their Homeric efforts had been in vain.

Dunkeld
was another twenty miles to the south. And Argyll's main force was
there - aldiough in cantonments, unprepared for fighting. Montrose
decided to press on. But not yet, hardly yet Flesh and blood, his own
in especial, was capable only of so much. They must have rest, food,
refreshment. A few hours...

It
was mid-forenoon before they set out once more, their fine enthusiasm
not quite recaptured, though still they went fast, Montrose refusing
the offer of a horse. They were almost at the junction of Tummel and
Tay, with Killiecrankie and Moulin behind them, when a small party
coming in the other direction halted them. It was the young Earl of
Atholl returning home.

He
was only a little older than Johnnie, and in a great state of
excitement. All was well, he cried, to Montrose. All was well. Argyll
was fled.

Astonished,
unbelieving, the Graham questioned him. It seemed that, while they
had slept at Blair, somebody had slipped away, on a fast horse, to
warn the Campbell at Dunkeld. And whenever that man had heard that
Montrose was so near with an armed force, he had flown into a dire
panic, declaring that he was betrayed, that all was lost, that his
encamped troops were in no state for fight. And without more ado he
had taken horse for Perth and the South, leaving the Earl of Lothian
to do as he thought best. He had not so much as taken leave of
Atholl.

‘
But
...
but this is madness!' the Graham objected. There are less than
400
of
us. He must have thousands at Dunkeld. Has the man taken leave of his
wits?'

The
messenger did not say but
400,
my
lord Marquis. He but said Montrose was coming with a Highland host.
That was sufficient for
MacCailean
Mor
!
He
believed you on his heels - and fled.'

‘
Dear
God - and this is the man who holds Scotland in thrall! This he who
sets himself up against his King, the hope of the Lord's elect!'

'What
to do, now? Argyll was escaped; and however unprepared, the camp
at Dunkeld was now warned. There could be no surprise. Atholl
estimated between
3000
and
4000
men
there — and even if their general was a craven, these would not
be all the same. More than ten times their own number.

Reluctantly
they turned back. Bold grasping of an opportunity was one thing;
foolhardiness quite another. Back at Blair they waited for Airlie to
turn up; and then stayed longer, welcome, to give the Athollmen a
chance to see their own people, and to seek to rally more to the
royal standard. Argyll's extraordinary behaviour aided them in this -
although it was recognised that when Montrose was gone, the Campbell
and his threat would re-emerge. Over another
100
volunteers
were added to their strength.

They
were still at Blair, safe behind the closely guarded Pass of
Killiecrankic, when ten days later there were surprising
developments on two fronts. Word came from Dunkeld that the entire
military scene was changing. Argyll had gone straight to Edinburgh,
where he had had but a cool reception from the erstwhile loot-licking
Committee of the Estates, who now criticised his generalship. In high
dudgeon the Campbell had there and then resigned his commission as
commander-in-chief of the home forces and shaken the dust of
Edinburgh from his feet - while still, of course, reserving the right
to make all important political decisions. He had retired to
Inveraray and his own territories. What is more, he had commanded all
his Campbell levies, which made up the main bulk of his present
infantry, to return home to Argyll forthwith, likewise. If the
Covenant leadership did not appreciate his services as a general,
they could see how they got on without him, and his.

Evidently
in some considerable confusion the Committee had been unable to
persuade either of the Major-Generals, the Earl Marischal or the Earl
of Lothian, to take on the thankless task of commander-in-chief.
Neither would the Earl of Callander, commander of the Borders area,
consider it. In desperation they had turned to old Leslie, in
England, and he had sent them an almost unknown individual, one of
his own major-generals, by name William Baillie of Letham, a veteran
of the Gustavus Adolphus wars.

Montrose,
although intrigued by the news, was less delighted than were some of
his lieutenants - for he knew Baillic, and had few doubts that a
professional soldier as commander-in-chief would prove a more potent
opponent than most high-born amateurs. But the resignation of Argyll
was heartening and significant - even though it was only as general
that he was stepping down. He would remain the political master of
Scotland. The tidings therefore, although an unexpected present
encouragement, could also mean more effective military measures
against them hereafter.

The
second development was more consistently heartening, and as
unanticipated. The day following the first, all at Blair were excited
to hear the distant sound of bagpipes - intrigued rather than
alarmed. Coming from the north, no attackers would so advertise their
approach. All were agog to see what this could mean. When a large
host appeared in sight, marching down the strath, there was some
misgiving. But when the proud black-and-white Galley of the Isles
standard could be distinguished flying at the head, and beside it the
Red Hand banner of Ulster, there could be no doubts. Colkitto was
back.

Montrose
went out to meet the prodigal, forgiving all, thankful of heart. But
as he and his neared the front ranks of the host, even the mighty
figure of Alastair MacDonald failed to monopolise the attention. For,
flanking the blond giant, was such a galaxy of eagles-feathered
Highland chieftains as the Graham had never before seen at one
time, fierce-looking, barbarous-seeming men, dressed in tartans, both
kilts and trews, calf-hide jerkins, antiquated armour and helmets,
with Celtic jewellery, bristling with symbolic arms, pride emanating
from them in an almost visible aura.

'Major-General
Alastair - I rejoice to see you,' Montrose cried. 'With all my heart,
I do. And
...
in such bonny company
1'

'Ha,
my lord Marquis - I see that you are on your feet again, by the Mass!
I heard that you might have work for me, once more! And for mine.'

'Always
I had that, my friend.'

'Aye.
Well, see you - I have brought some kin of mine. You will not fail to
know their names, I think.' He turned ceremoniously towards his
right. 'It is my honour to present Sir James of Sleat; Aeneas of
Glengarry; John of Moidart, Captain of Clanranald; Alastair MacRanald
of Keppoch; Maclan of Glencoe; MacIan of Ardnamurchan.' He paused
there, for effect - as well he might.