God's Highlander (33 page)

A
N AIR OF uneasy calm hung over Eskaig for many weeks after the burning of the Fraser cot and the death of Donnie and Malcolm Ross. It was as though the Highland community was holding its breath, waiting for ‘something' to happen. Seonaid had not moved into the Ross home. The decision had been forced upon her by Hamish Fraser's refusal to forget the feud between the two families. Instead, Seonaid and her father had moved from the mountains to Eskaig. Both were living at the inn, where Seonaid worked as chambermaid and serving-girl, while her father stood at a sink in the scullery, his blindness no more than an inconvenience in the unexacting chore of washing pans, pots and dishes. The people of the village knew Seonaid had lost her husband and child. They sympathised with her for the manner in which Donnie had died. No one asked after the fate of the child.

Then John Garrett left on a trip to Glasgow. He said nothing to anyone of his plans, and it was not known how long he would be away. The tenants of the Kilmalie estate breathed sighs of relief at his departure, but Wyatt could not relax. He believed Garrett was planning something, perhaps a final clearance of the Kilmalie estates.

Wyatt would have liked to pursue his suspicions, but the affairs of the Church of Scotland had reached a critical stage and he, too, had to leave for Edinburgh within the week. Fortunately, little was likely to happen with the factor absent.

There was to be a meeting of the General Assembly of the Church, in Edinburgh on Tuesday, 18 May 1843, when it was believed the Disruption of the Church of Scotland would be announced.

Wyatt and Coll Kennedy travelled to Edinburgh together to attend the Assembly. Although not members of the General Assembly itself,
they were assured of seats in St Andrew's Church, where the Assembly was to meet.

They found Edinburgh in a ferment about the forthcoming meeting, and there appeared to be more sober-garbed ministers in the city than residents. Suddenly, the prospect of a Disruption within the Church which sometimes seemed so unreal when viewed from Wyatt's remote Highland parish was about to become a reality. It was at once both exhilarating and awesome in its enormity.

One of the first calls Wyatt made in Edinburgh was on Charles Graham, administrator of the estates of Lord Kilmalie. Graham had written to Wyatt during the winter, to inform him that money left to him by the late Lord Kilmalie was awaiting collection. He suggested Wyatt call in and see him when he was next in the city.

Charles Graham seemed genuinely pleased to see Wyatt. The promissory note was at his home, and he invited Wyatt to dinner that evening, in order that he might collect it. When Wyatt explained he was accompanied by the minister from Letterfinlay, the administrator promptly extended the invitation to include Coll Kennedy.

There were a number of guests for dinner, and Wyatt realised it was likely to be a lively evening when he discovered that seated opposite to him at dinner was the Reverend Hamilton Logan, a leading ‘moderate', as those who accepted the State's jurisdiction over the Church were called.

Unaware that his two fellow-ministers did not share his views, the Reverend Hamilton Logan did his best to impress them with his importance, once he had established
they
were not members of the General Assembly. He had that day been to a reception given by the city in honour of the Marquis of Bute, Lord High Commissioner, who was to represent Her Majesty the Queen at the General Assembly.

‘It was a
splendid
affair,' declared Hamilton Logan. ‘One of those occasions we enjoy all too seldom in this somewhat staid city of ours.' Looking condescendingly at Wyatt and Coll Kennedy, he added: ‘You really should have arrived in Edinburgh in time at least to observe the comings and goings of the Lord High Commissioner's guests. You'll have seen nothing like it in the Highlands, I'm certain.'

Both Highland ministers agreed they had seen nothing like it and concentrated their attention on the plates in front of them. The moderate minister began immediately to give a detailed and overloud
account of the happenings at the Lord High Commissioner's reception to the unfortunate guest seated beside him.

Of far more interest to the two Highland ministers were the observations of a guest seated beside Wyatt. When he realised the two men were in the city to attend the General Assembly, he told them of public opinion on the issue.

It seemed the attitude of moderates like Hamilton Logan had hardened in the past week. They believed that when it was put to the test no more than a handful of ministers would go through with the Disruption and leave the Church. Knowledgeable sources in Edinburgh put the number as low as forty.

Wyatt and Coll Kennedy looked at each other in dismay. If the tumours were true, it would have disastrous consequences for those ministers who were determined to stand by their convictions. With more than a hundred ministers, a ‘free' church stood a chance of success. Forty would not be enough.

Immediate discussion of the important issue became impossible when the Reverend Hamilton Logan once more included them in his one-sided conversation.

‘I trust you've been listening to my description of the reception held for Her Majesty's High Commissioner in Holyrood Palace. I am quite certain the members of your congregations would find it
fascinating
to hear of such an event. It would no doubt enliven a dull winter's evening. Although perhaps they might find it difficult to comprehend a gathering of dignitaries in such a place. You'll have no palaces in your Highlands, of course?'

‘I suppose the mountain peaks raised by God's own hands would stand comparison with a palace,' mused Wyatt thoughtfully. ‘Do you think that might provide my simple parishioners with a suitable analogy?

While the Reverend Hamilton Logan mulled Wyatt's words over in his mind, Coll Kennedy said: ‘I think it would. And, in order that they might have an idea of the numbers attending, you might refer them to the gathering of sheep before the drovers bring them down to the lowlands. '

As those who heard the exchange tried not to smile, Coll turned his attention to the garrulous minister, whose face had taken on a decided flush. ‘Was the Earl of Glenadon at this reception?'

‘I…. Yes, I do believe he was.' The moderate minister looked at Coll Kennedy suspiciously, suspecting he was about to be subjected to more Highland ‘humour'. ‘Have you met him somewhere?'

‘He's my brother.'

Nonchalantly knocking back his wine and holding the glass up to an advancing servant, Coll Kennedy added: ‘No doubt another brother was there, too. Sir Robert Kennedy of Fraochburn? I believe the two are inseparable these days.'

Conversation swelled about him when Coll Kennedy stopped talking. It owed as much to real interest as to amusement at the manner in which the Letterfinlay minister had put down his city colleague. It was rare for a man with such a background to choose the Church of Scotland in which to make a career.

Later that evening, as the men gathered in the library, the Reverend Hamilton Logan singled out Coll Kennedy for his attention.

‘I'm surprised a man of such good family should be languishing in an obscure Highland parish, Minister Kennedy. You ought to be a member of the General Assembly, at least. Would you like me to mention the matter at this year's Assembly?'

Coll Kennedy shook his head, but the Reverend Hamilton Logan persisted. ‘There will never be a better opportunity for advancement. It's possible some of the Assembly will be resigning because of this present foolishness. There might be opportunities for both of you. I'm not talking merely of playing a part in the administration of your church. There will be good livings left vacant. Livings far more congenial than some remote Highland village. You could come to Edinburgh, where there are generous patrons – men like Charles Graham. Think about it.'

‘I have thought about it. For many years I've prayed that preachers like you might forsake Mammon and find the path back to God.'

Coll Kennedy was a man who found it difficult to be serious for very long, but he was serious now.

‘I'm a minister of God. A
servant
of God. I serve gladly and with humility where I can best do His will. I believe I better fulfil the needs of His people in the Highlands than I might here, beset by the temptations of wealth and false ambition. I'm a humble man, Minister Hamilton Logan, but I have great pride in my love of the Lord. That's why I'll never be a member of the General Assembly of the Church of
Scotland. Indeed, after tomorrow I fear you and I will no longer belong to the same church.'

Turning away from the suddenly speechless Reverend Hamilton Logan, Coll Kennedy said: ‘I think I'd like to leave now, Wyatt. My family always told me I habitually disgraced myself – and them – in polite company. I fear a Highland parish hasn't improved my manners. Anyway, this city whisky is for weaning babies. I've a bottle of the
real
stuff packed away in my things.'

‘I'm sorely tempted to come with you, Minister Kennedy. It's a long time since I tasted whisky that put the smell of a peat fire in my nostrils. Come into my study for a moment. I want a word with Wyatt, and I've a bottle hidden there that I brought from the Isles a year or two ago.'

Neither minister had observed Charles Graham come up behind them. Now, with a hand on the shoulder of each of them, the host led them to a small oak-panelled room. When he closed the door behind them the sounds of talk and laughter in the library were abruptly cut off. From a cabinet he produced three glasses, filling them from a dumpy unlabelled bottle.

When Coll Kennedy raised the glass the aroma reached his nose and an expression of sheer joy touched his face. ‘Ah! Now, this is
real
whisky.'

‘It is indeed, Minister Kennedy, although it would no doubt be a little fierce for the palate of the Reverend Hamilton Logan. I fear he prefers both whisky and his religion well watered down. I'll leave the bottle beside you. I have something in my desk for Wyatt.'

Charles Graham sat down at his desk and opened the top drawer. Reaching inside, he withdrew a small sheet of thick paper, on which were a few lines of extremely neat handwriting. Handing the paper across the desk to Wyatt, he said: ‘Here you are. I've had this for a couple of months. I didn't want to send it, and I guessed you'd be here for the meeting of the General Assembly.'

Wyatt read the writing on the paper, and gasped. It was a promissory note made out in his favour, for
two thousand and four hundred pounds
! It was a fortune.

‘I told you when we met in Eskaig that Lord Kilmalie had remembered you in his will. You'll find all the details in here….' Charles Graham passed a thick brown envelope to Wyatt and smiled at his bemused expression. ‘The late Lord Kilmalie was a generous man.'

‘That's more than might be said for his successor.' Wyatt spoke as Coll Kennedy lolled back in an armchair savouring his drink. ‘Using the power granted to him by the new Lord Kilmalie, John Garrett's made a start on clearing the mountains and bringing in sheep. It's gone quiet since two men died as a result, but he'll start again, I'm quite certain of it.'

‘So that's Garrett's game.' Charles Graham frowned. ‘I fear your factor may be acting a little hastily, Wyatt.'

Both ministers waited for Charles Graham to say more, but he hesitated, as though there was something he wanted to say but was not certain this was the right moment. ‘I received some news only last week which may have a startling outcome for John Garrett. Unfortunately, it needs to be confirmed. I'm afraid I can't say more until I have additional information in my possession. Incidentally, there are rumours that John Garrett is in Edinburgh. Someone thought they saw him at the offices of the Prosecutor Fiscal a day or two ago.'

‘Surely, if he were here, he'd have called to see you?'

‘I would have hoped so, but John Garrett does many things I don't understand. Just accept my information as a warning. If I learn what he's doing here, I'll pass the knowledge on to you.'

 

May 18th was a fine day, bright but cold. The few clouds in view held off, as though, in common with the whole of the city, they, too, were waiting. Many of the shops had closed for the day. So, too, had most of the city's business centres. Their employees, presented with an unexpected holiday, took to the streets and gravitated to the vicinity of St Andrew's Church where the General Assembly was to meet.

As Wyatt and Coll Kennedy made their way through the streets they could sense the underlying excitement of the gathering crowds. There was a feeling of anticipation. Of waiting for something that few could have put into words.

The two Highland ministers did not immediately head for St Andrew's Church. Instead they made their way first to the church of St Giles, where Dr Welsh, the retiring Moderator of the Church of Scotland, was preaching.

The Moderator was a stalwart supporter of those who advocated a stand against the Government on the question of patronage. For his
sermon, Dr Welsh chose the text ‘Let every man be fully persuaded in his own mind'.

It was an analytical rather than a stirring sermon, but it left no man in the church in doubt of where the moderator stood – or why.

When Wyatt and Coll went out into the streets again the excitement had heightened and they hurried through crowds on their way to St Andrew's Church.

There were so many ministers and members of the public already cramming the hall that the two Highland ministers were forced to stand at one side of the vast assembly. As they struggled to maintain their places more people were admitted behind them and Coll Kennedy nudged Wyatt.

Seated near the front of the hall, on the same side, was the Reverend Hamilton Logan, the minister who had bored the party at the home of Charles Graham with his talk. He sat among the ‘moderates', none of whom had attended the service conducted by Dr Welsh. The Edinburgh minister appeared pale-faced and drawn.