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 th
e 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.
‘He looks as though he stayed drinking indifferent whisky for too long last night,’ whispered the Letterfinlay minister. ‘I trust he has stomach enough left for what will happen today.’
Wyatt nodded, without voicing a reply. The excitement of the occasion held him in its grip. He felt as he had during his army days, when a battle was imminent against frightening odds. The moment when every thinking man envied those who had found excuses to avoid the fighting.
When it seemed that no more spectators could be allowed into the building without those inside being crushed to death, a sudden hush fell upon the church.
The silence advanced with almost discernible precision ahead of Dr Welsh, who would be Moderator for only a few more minutes.
As Dr Welsh took the chair, the sound of marching feet could be heard outside the building and a fanfare heralded the arrival of Her Majesty’s representative, the Marquis of Bute.
When the High Commissioner had taken his seat on the throne, attention immediately shifted to the Moderator. Pale, but dignified, Dr Welsh offered up the opening prayer. When the ‘Amen’ died away, there was a brief moment of uncertainty before the Moderator addressed the General Assembly and Her Majesty’s High Commissioner for the last time, in a voice that carried to every man in the church.
‘Fathers and brethren. According to the usual form of procedure this is the time for making up the roll, but in consequence of certain proceedings affecting our rights and privileges – proceedings which have been sanctioned by Her Majesty’s government, and by the legislature of the country – more especially in respect that there has been an infringement on the liberties of our Constitution, so that we could not now constitute this Court without a violation of the terms between Church and State in this land, as now authoritatively declared, I must protest against our proceeding further. The reasons that have led me to this conclusion are fully set forth in the document which I hold in my hand and which, with permission of this House, I shall now proceed to read.’
The hand that held the written protest shook slightly as Dr Welsh read out the principles the Church had tried unsuccessfully to uphold against the encroachment by the State.
When the Moderator reached the end of the protest, he declared that because of the State’s interference all those who concurred would now withdraw from the Assembly. By this action they would sever all connection with the established church. They would go forth and seek to restore the original standards of the faith of the Church of Scotland in a free church.
A sigh escaped the lips of the assembled ministers. Every man there had been holding his breath, so as not to miss a single word of the Moderator’s statement.
It was done! Now there could be no going back. No compromising. Those who followed the Moderator from the hall would raise the Lord’s standard in a new and free church.
Dr Welsh laid the written protest on the table before him, bowed to the High Commissioner, then turned and walked to the door.
This was the moment for which the Assembly and most of Scotland had been waiting. How many of the ministers would follow Dr Welsh, thereby expelling themselves from the church they had served well for most of their long lives?
Two senior ministers fell in beside Dr Welsh, and as they passed from the building to the street others followed on behind. The waiting crowds cheered, then drew back to make a path for the ministers.
Inside the hall the moderates were smug at first as the two senior ministers stood up to follow the retiring Moderator. Their smugness changed to perplexity as more and more ministers and elders left their seats to join the growing procession of dissenters. As row after row left their seats, the dismay behind them grew.
Wyatt and Coll Kennedy waited respectfully for the members of the Assembly to pass before they joined with other ministers at the end of the long procession.
Before they did so, Wyatt gave Coil Kennedy a violent nudge and inclined his head towards the ministers who were passing. Among their number was the Reverend Hamilton Logan. Catching the eye of Wyatt, he appeared momentarily embarrassed. Then he inclined his head, and in that moment Wyatt knew the Disruption had succeeded.
Wyatt and Coll Kennedy followed their fellow-ministers to Tanfield. Here they would lay the foundation of the newborn Free Church of Scotland.
Watching them, unseen in the crowd, Factor John Garrett was well satisfied. At last he knew of a way to remove Wyatt from the living of Eskaig and prevent him from interfering in the plans he had laid for the Highland estates of the absent Lord Kilmalie.
Thirty-nine
ALTHOUGH RESTLESS TO return to Eskaig, Wyatt was forced to remain in Edinburgh for nine days after the Disruption. There was much work to be done to ensure the success of the newly established Free Church of Scotland. Finance was of great importance. Much money was needed to build churches to serve the communities and bring them back to God.
Ironically, one of the first acts of the ministers of the Free Church was to sign the ‘deed of demission’. By this act 474
ministers signed away a hundred thousand pounds in emoluments, granted to them by the church they had left. It was a solemn moment. A time for faith. Ageing and frail men gave up all they had in the world, putting their trust in the God they sought to serve with greater honesty.
When Coll Kennedy left Wyatt at Fort William the two friends shook hands gravely. Their futures were uncertain, each man’s place in the community dependent upon the respect in which he was held.
‘God go with you, Wyatt.’
‘And with you. Don’t forget to keep in touch.’
With a jaunty wave of his hand, the tall preacher stepped ashore. Swinging the bag he carried to a shoulder, he set off northwards, his long-legged stride taking him towards Loch Lochy and the mountainous parish of Letterfinlay.
Donald McKay steered his small vessel away from the Fort William quay and headed for the narrow channel to Loch Ell. ‘You’ll not be knowing what to expect in Eskaig, Minister?’
‘The spiritual well-being of every man, woman and child in the district is in the balance, Donald, yet I’m not even certain they know of the Disruption yet.’
‘Oh, they know, Minister. I brought the news from the General Assembly here myself. They’ve had a whole week to decide which path they’ll be treading. They trust you. If you tell them what they should do, they’ll follow.’
Donald McKay spun the wheel as the tricky current caught the under-powered little vessel and swept it towards the bank. When the boat was once more in the centre of the channel he said: ‘Trouble is, the factor knows about the Disruption, too, and he’s likely to have thought up something for you.’
‘Perhaps he’s not returned from Glasgow yet.’
‘He’s been home nigh on a week.’ Donald McKay spat over the side. ‘Travelled up in a ship with a colonel and a hundred or so soldiers – Irish soldiers. I just heard the news back at Fort William. The soldiers are in camp there.’
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