Claverhouse was the sternest of disciplinarians; but the
discipline of those days was a very different thing from our
interpretation of the word. It was more a recognition by the soldier of
the superior strength and possibilities of his officer, than trained
obedience to an inevitable law. When they once had satisfied themselves
that their captain was unable to bring the enemy to book, was unable
even to provide them with proper rations and pay, no love for the flag
would have kept them together for another hour. It was essential for
Claverhouse to show them that he and they were more than a match for
their foes whenever and in whatever form the opportunity came.
Unfortunately for him it came in the form of Drumclog, and the proof had
still to be given.
But it is abundantly clear that no stain was considered to rest either
on his honour or his skill. The only ungenerous reference to his
discomfiture came a few years later in the shape of a growl from old
Dalziel against the folly of splitting the army up into small
detachments at the discretion of rash and incompetent leaders.
Claverhouse was removed from his independent command only because the
circumstances of the moment made it necessary. When it was found
necessary to despatch a regular army against the insurgents (as, for all
their provocation, they must after Drumclog be styled), he took his
proper place in that army as captain of a troop in the Royal Scottish
Life Guards.
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