But the history of the next three years, with its wretched tale of violence and folly, of oppressions that broke the hearts of the loyal, and concessions that only moved the scorn of the mutinous, may be read elsewhere.  The last appearance of Claverhouse on the scene is at the Council in February, 1686, where he supports Perth in his motion to bring the indiscreet minister to book, till he appears again in his proper character as a soldier commanding the cavalry of the Scottish contingent on its march south to join the army of England.  We know, however, that in that same year, 1686, he was promoted to be Major-General, and in March, 1688, was made Provost of Dundee.  We must now pass to the memorable autumn of the latter year.

In September, 1688, a despatch in James’s own hand was sent down to the Council at Edinburgh announcing the imminent invasion of England by the Prince of Orange.  Perth, still Chancellor and a Papist, was told to do nothing without consulting Balcarres and Tarbat.  Their advice was unquestionably the best that could have been given for James and the worst for England; for, had it been followed, instead of the short Highland campaign of the following year, that began at Killiecrankie and ended at Dunkeld, there would in all probability have been civil war throughout the kingdom.  They advised that the regular troops under Douglas and Claverhouse, now between three and four thousand strong, should be augmented by a force of twelve thousand raised from the Highland clans and the militia, and that these troops should be distributed along the Border and through the northern shires of England.  Preparations were at once begun to this effect.  The chiefs of the great clans were ordered to hold their claymores ready:  the castles of Edinburgh and Stirling were munitioned for war:  the militia was called out in every county, and volunteers enrolled in every town.  In the midst of the bustle arrived a second despatch from James, ordering the regular troops to march at once for England to join the army under Feversham.  This foolish order was Melfort’s doing, urged by his secretary, Stewart of Goodtrees, who, after having been concerned in all the most notorious plots of the last twenty years, and actually condemned to death for his share in Argyle’s rebellion, had now blossomed into an Under-Secretary of State.  Remonstrance was useless.  “The order,” wrote Balcarres, “was positive and short—­advised by Mr. James Stewart at a supper, and wrote upon the back of a plate, and an express immediately despatched therewith.”

And so “with a sorrowful heart,” he goes on to remind the exiled King, “they began their march—­three thousand effective young men—­vigorous, well-disciplined and clothed, and, to a man, hearty in your cause, and willing, out of principle as well as duty, to hazard their lives for the support of the Government as then established both in Church and State."[73] The loyalty of some of these fine fellows was, however, destined soon to suffer a change in the disturbing atmosphere of England.