1611.
The horrid deed being accomplished, the Mures, with spades they had brought, tried to bury Dalrymple in the sand; but, finding the hole always fill up with water, they were at length obliged to carry the body into the sea, going in as far as they could wade, and hoping that an outgoing wind would carry it to the coast of Ireland. Five nights after, it was thrown back upon the beach at the very scene of the murder, and was soon found by the country people. The Earl of Cassillis heard of it, and caused an account of the discovery to be published throughout the district. By the mother and sister of Dalrymple, it was at once pronounced to be his corpse, and suspicion instantly alighted upon the Mures. A relative, advised with about the rumour, said it could not be safe for them to brave the law in the teeth of so much prejudice; neither, supposing they absconded under such a suspicion, could their friends stand up for them. The only expedient was to make an excuse for going out of the way—assault, for instance, Hugh Kennedy of Garriehorn, a servant of the Earl of Cassillis, a man against whom they had many ‘probable quarrels.’ The Mures actually adopted this expedient, setting upon Garriehorn in the town of Ayr, and only failing to slay him by reason of the vigour of his defence. The earl then saw that it was necessary to take strong measures against enemies capable of such doings, and he accordingly had them summoned both for Dalrymple’s murder and for the assault of Garriehorn. They allowed themselves to be put to the horn—that is, denounced as rebels for not appearing—but loudly professed that, if freed on the score of the assault, they would stand their trial for the murder, alleging their entire innocence of that transaction. The king was now made acquainted with the case, and, by his orders, Auchindrain the elder was seized, and thrown into the Tolbooth in Edinburgh. The two culprits nevertheless continued to feel confidence in the want of proof against them, believing that, if Bannatyne were out of the way, it would be impossible to bring the fact home to them. The younger Mure, still at large, accordingly dealt with Bannatyne to induce him to go to Ireland. It is a wonder he did not at once send his friend to a more distant bourn. When Bannatyne was gone, young Mure came boldly forward to take his trial, somewhat to the embarrassment of the officers of justice. However, by the suggestion of his majesty, he was not allowed to depart till he should have suffered the torture, with a view to making him confess. To the admiration of all, he bore this treatment with unflinching fortitude, and confessed nothing.
Public sentiment now rose in favour of the Mures as persecuted men, and the Privy Council was inclined to let them off; and would have done so, had not the king continued firm in his belief of their guilt, and ordered them to be detained. Some years passed on, and proof seemed still past hope, when the Earl of Abercorn contrived to find out Bannatyne in Ireland, and caused him to be brought over to his own house in Paisley. There, Bannatyne gave a full account of the murder, but claimed, as fulfilment of a condition, that he should be allowed his freedom. The earl told him he had had no such understanding of the matter; but, to take away all ground of complaint, he would liberate him for the meantime, but at the end of ten days make every possible effort to take him unconditionally, whether dead or alive. At this Bannatyne hesitated; he knew that already the Mures had been laying plots to get him cut off in Ireland—now, between their vengeance and the extreme persecution threatened by Lord Abercorn, he could see no chance for safety. He therefore avowed his inclination to make a full confession before a court of law, and trust to his majesty’s clemency.
On being confronted with Bannatyne, the Mures appeared as obstinate in their protestations of innocence as ever, contradicting everything he said, and denouncing him as a tool of their enemies. They were, nevertheless, brought to trial, along with Bannatyne, on the day noted in the margin—found guilty, and condemned to be beheaded at the Cross of Edinburgh, with forfeiture of all they possessed to his majesty’s use. So ended this extraordinary tissue of crimes, old Auchindrain being at the time about eighty years of age.[340]
Aug.
1611.
Macleod of Raasay had been proprietor of the lands of Gairloch on the mainland of Ross-shire. He had the misfortune to live in the same time with Kenneth Mackenzie of Kintail, who has already been described as a man much too clever for his neighbours. Lord Kintail—for he had recently been made a peer—had a wadset or bond over a third of Gairloch, and by proper use of this legal footing in the estate, joined to neglect of legal defences by the insular chieftain, was in the way of becoming proprietor of the whole. While Raasay, however, neglected law, he had no reluctance to use the sword: so a hot feud subsisted between him and the crafty Mackenzie. The latter had already pursued the Macleods out of Gairloch with fire and sword.
Under the date noted in the margin, Lord Kintail hired a ship, that his son Murdo Mackenzie might go to Skye with a proper following, in order to apprehend one John Holmogh MacRorie, a duniwassal of Raasay,[341] who had given him some trouble in the Gairloch. The vessel, with whatever design it set out, soon changed its course, and arrived opposite Macleod’s castle in the isle of Raasay—the same place where Johnson and Boswell afterwards found such an elegant scene of Highland hospitality. MacGilliecallum—such is the Highland appellative of the Laird of Raasay—seeing the vessel, went out to it with twelve of his followers, to buy some wine. ‘When Murdo Mackenzie did see them coming, he, with all his train, lest they should be seen, went to the lower rooms of the ship, leaving the mariners only above the decks. The Laird of Raasay entered; and, having spoken the mariners, he departed, with a resolution to return quickly. Murdo Mackenzie, understanding that they were gone, came out of the lower rooms; and perceiving them coming again, he resolved to conceal himself no longer. The Laird of Raasay desired his brother Murdo to follow him into the ship with more company in another galley, that they might carry to the shore some wine which he had bought from the mariners; so returning to the ship, and finding Murdo Mackenzie there beyond his expectation, he consulteth with his men, and thereupon resolveth to take him prisoner, in pledge of his cousin John MacAllan MacRorie, whom the Laird of Gairloch detained in captivity.’—G. H. S.
1611.