I replied that I was the son of John Macrae of Culduie and the two men exchanged a look, the meaning of which was mysterious to me. I was taken aback that these two strangers knew my father’s name and appeared to pass judgement on me due to some idea they had about him.
Mimi Broad returned to collect our cups and asked if I had brought something to eat as we were to be the full day in the hills. Jetta had given me two potatoes, and she nodded in a way that suggested I had done well to be thus prepared. The ponies were led across the cobbles to the front of the house where we awaited the stalking party. One of the men pointed out a large wooden coffer, which I was to carry. It was three feet wide and two deep and fastened at diagonally opposite corners with a heavy leather strap the width of a man’s hand. There was a good weight in it and one of the hands had to lift it over my head and secure the strap over my shoulder. He then told me that it was important not to bump the box or let it tilt to one side as the contents could be broken. I did not ask what was inside, but I felt that I had been entrusted with a task of great importance and resolved to carry it out well. By the time the ghillie joined us, the strap had already begun to cause me some discomfort, but I did my best to conceal it. The ghillie made a cursory inspection of the ponies and made one or two remarks to the men. A gun rested in the crook of his arm. A few minutes later, four gentlemen emerged from the entrance to the house, all dressed in tweeds and holding guns in the same manner as the ghillie. The men were not at all like the natives of these parts. They were tall and straight-backed with fair hair and pink complexions, like that of my erstwhile schoolmaster. The ghillie shook hands with the eldest of the men, whom I took to be Lord Middleton. He then greeted the other men in turn and declared that it was a fine morning and that he was confident they would return with a stag from the mountain. He then addressed them in general terms about what would occur that day and gave out one or two instructions regarding the manner in which to handle their firearms and behave on the mountain. The gentlemen listened attentively and I was greatly impressed for, despite his fine clothes, the ghillie was a Highlander, here addressing his betters with no hint of deference. At the end of his little speech, Lord Middleton clapped the ghillie on the shoulder and, turning to his companions, said, ‘Fear not, his bark is worse than his bite.’ This caused great amusement among the party, except for the ghillie himself, who took a silver watch from the pocket of his waistcoat and declared that it was time they were starting out. We then set off towards the glen, the ghillie and Lord Middleton at the head, followed by the three gentlemen, then the stablemen leading the two garrons, with we two boys bringing up the rear. The morning was warm and overcast. It was not long before the coffer began to knock painfully against the back of my knees. My companion, who was carrying a similar, though clearly lighter box, showed me how to walk with my shoulders back and my hands resting on the sides to prevent it from bumping. This exchange broke the ice between us and he told me that his name was Archibald Ross and he was the eldest of six siblings. I told him that my mother had lately died during the birth of my youngest brother and this had caused our family a good deal of hardship. Archibald Ross replied that for folk like us there was no other ship than the hard ship. I was greatly impressed with this reply and thought my new friend the cleverest person I had ever met.
When we left the track which led through the middle of the glen and started up the hillside, it became impossible to prevent my coffer from swinging this way and that and I became resigned to damaging the contents and incurring the wrath of the ghillie. Archibald Ross maintained a constant monologue, talking in an entertaining manner about his siblings and neighbours in Applecross. He told me quite openly that his father thought the people from the Point to be lazy and inferior beings, especially those from Aird-Dubh, who he regarded as dirty and mendacious. He was at pains to stress that he did not share his father’s view, but I nevertheless reminded him that I was from Culduie and not Aird-Dubh.
As soon as he was old enough and had saved enough for the passage, Archibald intended to emigrate to Canada. There, he told me, young men like us could prosper. Great tracts of fertile land awaited us and within a year one could make more money than our fathers would in a lifetime of scratching a living from their crofts. A cousin of his who had left with nothing but a bag of sowens, now lived in a house twice as grand as Lord Middleton’s. He proposed that we should go together to make our fortunes and I was much excited by the idea. Archibald then told me in a conspiratorial tone that if I made myself particularly useful to the gentlemen, they might at the end of the day slip me a penny or even a shilling. The prospect of such earnings redoubled my resolve to ignore the pain that the coffer was causing me.
After perhaps two hours we reached a plateau overlooking the glen and stopped. I had never had cause to wander this far into the mountains and we were afforded a great vista over the bay of Applecross towards the mountains of Raasay and Skye. The stablemen retrieved two large rugs from the first of the ponies and laid them on the ground. My coffer was lifted from me and from it were taken items of crockery, glasses and bottles of wine. On the ashets were placed an array of cold meats, vegetables, condiments and breads. The gentlemen declared themselves impressed with the spread and commenced eating without the saying of grace. The two hands, having laid out the meal, loitered by the garrons. I sat on a hummock and slowly ate the first of my potatoes. I was tempted to eat the second, but, knowing I was to be a long time on the mountain, resolved to keep it for later. Archibald sat nearby and chewed slowly on a bannock he had taken from the pocket of his jacket. He offered me a piece, which I refused as I did not wish to share my potato. The ghillie ate with the gentlemen, but did not join in their conversation. Nor did he accept the offer of a glass of wine. The gentlemen quaffed freely and competed with one another in ever more elaborate descriptions of the scene before their eyes. One of the gentlemen rubbed his temples and made a joke about having taken too great an advantage of Lord Middleton’s hospitality the previous night. His companion raised his glass and declared, ‘The hair of the dog!’ – a statement which mystified me. Lord Middleton took one small glass of wine and spoke in a low voice to the ghillie. The ghillie made a remark to the effect that the gentlemen would not be shooting many stags after quaffing so much wine and, although he said it in a jocular fashion, I understood that it was meant quite seriously and he did not approve of the gentlemen’s behaviour. The gentlemen appeared oblivious to the ghillie’s displeasure, however, and emptied three bottles between them.
When the men had declared themselves sated, the crockery and foodstuffs were packed away and I was informed, to my relief, that there was no need for me to carry the coffer further as I could retrieve it on our return journey. I was thus in good spirits as we resumed our trek and this increased when one of the hands, wishing to fill his pipe, asked me to lead his garron. I took great pride in this elevation of my duties, and felt that it signified my acceptance by the men. We took a turn to the south between two peaks and I imagined our party as explorers venturing into undiscovered lands. Lord Middleton’s guests were in high spirits and conversed loudly with one another. The ghillie was obliged to tell them to keep their voices down or there would be no sport that day. I was taken aback to see the ghillie address the gentlemen in this curt fashion, but Lord Middleton did not appear in the least affronted. The gentlemen looked quite shame-faced and continued in silence. The ghillie now took the lead and every hundred yards or so, he directed us to halt by stretching the palm of his hand from his side. We stood, barely taking a breath, as he scanned the mountainside and seemed to be smelling the air, before wordlessly directing us to proceed this way or that with a further gesture of his hand. After an hour or so, we came to a ridge and the ghillie instructed us to keep our heads down. I lay on my belly in the heather. The mood of our party was now quite sombre. Below us a herd of thirty or forty deer grazed. The hinds all faced in one direction, their heads lowered to the sod, moving slowly f
orward like a group of women sowing crops. We were close enough to see the unhurried rotation of their jaws. At the head of the group was a stag with antlers like a pair of craggy hands held towards the sky. The beasts were quite unaware of our presence.
The ghillie silently indicated to one of the stalkers to come forward. This gentleman silently, and with some competence, loaded his weapon and directed it towards the stag, resting his head on the butt. It was a moment of great solemnity. I was close enough to the gentleman to see his finger move towards the trigger. I looked again to the stag and felt it a terrible shame that it should die in order that this man might mount its head on the wall of his parlour. The gentleman’s finger curled around the trigger. Without any forethought, I leapt suddenly to my feet and bounded over the ridge, flapping my arms like a great bird and crowing like a cock. The deer below took flight and the gentleman loosed his shot into the air. The ghillie leapt forward, grabbed me by the arm and threw me roughly to the ground. I was, at that moment, as shocked as he by my actions and immediately regretted them. The ghillie uttered a series of crude oaths and, fearing that he would set about me with the butt of his weapon, I covered my head with my arms. He did not do so, however, and I was left prostrate in the heather feeling dreadfully foolish. The two hands laughed heartily, but were silenced by a stern look from the ghillie. Lord Middleton’s face had turned quite purple, whether from the effects of the mountain air or from rage, I could not say. The three gentlemen stared at me in astonishment. I fancied that the ghillie might send me running down the glen so that the guests might take shots at me in lieu of the sport I had disrupted. Nothing of that nature occurred, however. Lord Middleton stepped forward and asked the ghillie my name.
‘He is Roderick Macrae, son of John Macrae of Culduie,’ he replied.
Lord Middleton nodded and said, ‘See that he is not employed on the estate again.’
He then turned and apologised to his guests. Had I been given the opportunity I would have done the same, but I was sent off the mountain and reminded to collect my coffer and return it to the kitchens. I struggled to my feet, grateful to Lord Middleton for the leniency of my punishment. As I departed the group, Archibald Ross averted his gaze, not wishing to associate himself with such an imbecile.
When I returned that evening I said nothing about the incident on the mountain. The following morning I left with my two potatoes in my pocket as if nothing untoward had occurred and spent the day loitering among the lochans on the Càrn. When I returned in the evening my father had heard word of my misdemeanour and I received a deserved and thorough beating.
* * *
Some time after the incident with the sheep, a rumour arose that Lachlan Broad had paid a visit to the factor. The provenance of the rumour was unclear. A number of inhabitants of Applecross claimed to have seen Broad walking in the direction of the factor’s house, but this in itself could hardly be said to constitute proof. It was unheard of for a person to visit the factor of their own volition, but had he been summoned, the notice would have been served through the constable, and Calum Finlayson had served no such notice. My father muttered darkly that the most likely source of the rumour was Lachlan Broad himself. In any case, through force of repetition the story came to be accepted as fact.
What is certain is that shortly after this alleged visit, Calum Finlayson was himself summoned to see the factor. Mr Finlayson’s tenure as constable was due to end in a matter of months and, somewhat exceptionally, he had succeeded to see out his term in this unwanted role without estranging himself from his neighbours. As the factor’s factotum, the constable is in an unenviable position. If he fails to enforce the regulations, he invites the wrath of the factor, while if he implements the terms of tenancy too vigorously he alienates himself from the community. Mr Finlayson had succeeded in avoiding the latter situation by choosing to quietly draw attention to any transgressions over a strupach, rather than hastening to the factor at the first opportunity. Similarly, where possible, he had encouraged tenants to resolve disputes between themselves and, when required to arbitrate, he was generally thought to have done so in an even-handed manner. The great majority of the community wished him to continue in the position, but accepted that it was a measure of his good character that he had no wish to do so.
After his audience with the factor, Calum Finlayson made it known he had been informed that he had not been pursuing his role with sufficient vigour. Whether this had been brought to the factor’s attention by Lachlan Broad was a matter of speculation, but the consequence was that for the remainder of his term he would be obliged to enforce the regulations with greater stringency. In order to compel him to do so, the factor had ordered that he must raise a certain amount in fines in his remaining months in office. Were this sum not achieved, the constable would be obliged to pay the shortfall from his own pocket. Mr Finlayson was greatly distressed by the situation.
A meeting attended by the great majority of inhabitants of our townships was held at Kenny Smoke’s house. It was decided that in order to spare Mr Finlayson from the obligation to levy the necessary fines on his neighbours, the regulations would be adhered to as scrupulously as possible. It was further decided that in order to raise the sum required by the factor, those families in a position to do so would contribute five shillings to a general fund. Those that were less well off could contribute according to their means. After the meeting, despite the resentment at being forced, as Kenny Smoke put it, to line the factor’s pockets, the people were in high spirits and there was singing and much drinking of whisky.
Lachlan Broad and his kinsmen were not present at the meeting and later refused to contribute to the fund. My father did not approve of the scheme on the grounds that it involved deception and defiance of the powers-that-be. Nevertheless, he contributed a shilling as a mark of the esteem in which he held Calum Finlayson. As no one wanted a black mark against their name for having transgressed the regulations, it was agreed the fines would be recorded as having been levied equally against the families of the parish. In this way, no family or individual could be singled out for further sanction. As the summer wore on, despite the hardship caused by the unnecessary expenditure, the scheme became a source of some amusement. Fines were levied for ever more frivolous transgressions. My father’s contribution was recorded as a penalty for allowing his cock to crow during the hours of darkness. Kenny Smoke was fined for failing to enquire after the health of the factor, and Maggie Blind, a widow from Camusterrach, for setting out to walk to church with her left foot. When the time came for Mr Finlayson to hand over the funds, the factor must have suspected that all was not as it seemed, but he could scarcely accuse his constable of failing to execute his duties zealously. The people were generally highly delighted with the success of the scheme, seeing it as a small victory over the authorities. My father, however, was of the opinion that the people should not be so pleased to be handing over their money to the factor, and I shared this view.
Towards the end of the summer, Lachlan Broad made it known that he intended to put himself forward for the soon-to-be vacant role of constable. It was unheard of for anyone to volunteer for this thankless position. Even those who might enjoy the authority the role bestowed knew better than to admit it. It was widely held that Lachlan Broad would relish the exercise of power over his neighbours and, for this reason, an alternative candidate was covertly sought. My father, though not well-liked, was respected in the community, and one evening a number of men, Kenny Smoke among them, visited our house to persuade him to allow himself to be put forward. My father asked each of the men in turn why, if they felt it was so important to oppose Lachlan Broad, they did not do so themselves. Each of the men had their own excuses for not doing so and by the time the last of them had spoken, my father had no need to declare his refusal. The fact was that the meeting between Lachlan Broad and the factor, whether real or imagined, had led to the perception that he was the factor’s man, and for n
o other reason than this, no one wished to put himself up against him. In the end the only person who could be persuaded to stand was Murdo Cock, an imbecile who lived in a hut in Aird-Dubh and was said to survive on a diet of sowens and limpets.
The vote was held at the manse in Camusterrach. On the appointed evening the men of the three villages filed in, their caps stuffed in the pockets of their jackets or clasped in front of them. Reverend Galbraith greeted each of the men as they entered, making general enquiries after their families and remarking on any recent absences from the kirk. The atmosphere was subdued. The factor stood flanked by the two candidates and briefly addressed the assembled company. He thanked them for their attendance and reminded them of the importance of the role of the constable in the happy management of the estate. He commended neither man, noting only their public-spiritedness in standing and expressing his confidence that the men would choose the most able candidate. Reverend Galbraith then took the opportunity to lead the men in prayer. When it came to the vote, not one man raised their hand to oppose Lachlan Broad.
Broad was not long in exercising his new powers. One evening shortly after his appointment, he paid a visit to our house. Jetta was just after putting away the crockery from our meal and had taken up her knitting. Father was in his chair by the window. I had remained at the table. It was still light and I had been staring out of the open door for some minutes, watching Lachlan Broad and his brother approach. It was only when they had passed our neighbour’s house that I realised they intended to call on us and by that time it was too late to alert my father to their imminent arrival. Broad’s large frame filled the doorway. He did not utter any greeting and I believe it was the alteration in the light which led my father to look up from his book. At this point, the new constable bid us good evening. My father stood up, but made no pretence of welcoming him. Aeneas Mackenzie remained outside, with his arms folded as if to stand guard against any intruders. Lachlan Broad took one or two steps inside the house and announced that, in his recently acquired capacity, he was visiting all the households under his jurisdiction.
His Bloody Project Page 6