Glengarry, on the other hand, represented that, although the clansmen’s endurance had been taxed by want of provisions as well as by fatigue, they were but little affected by hardships to which their own way of living inured them; and that, in spite of what they had gone through, they were both able and ready to fight an equal number of the enemy’s best troops, and had a fair chance of beating them. Still, even he did not recommend a general engagement before the arrival of the remaining claymores had brought their numbers more nearly to an equality with those of their opponents. His advice, which met with the approval of most of the chieftains, was that they should keep the army constantly in sight of the enemy, and should post their men on strong ground, where they would be safe from attack themselves, and whence they could easily sally forth, at every available opportunity, to harass the foe.
Alone of those present, Lochiel had refrained from giving any sign of adherence to the views of either party; and Dundee noticing this, called upon him, in terms most flattering to the old chief, to declare his opinion. It was given without hesitation: To fight the enemy. As he supported this advice by pointing to the eagerness of the men, and by enumerating the disadvantages of a delay, it was observed that Dundee’s countenance brightened, and that he listened with obvious satisfaction to his spirited yet wise words. When his turn came to speak, he told the Council that his sentiments had just been expressed by one who added to them the weight of long experience and of intimate knowledge, and that his voice, like that of Lochiel, was for immediate and decisive action, a course which was consequently resolved upon.
Before the Council broke up, the venerable chieftain again rose to speak. He had promised, he said, and would yield implicit obedience to all Dundee’s orders; but he requested that, before they separated, he might be allowed to give one command, not in his own name, but in that of the whole Council. It was the unanimous wish of all present that Dundee should not engage personally, for on him depended the fate, not only of their brave little army, but also of their king and of their country. ‘If your Lordship deny us this reasonable demand,’ he added, ‘for my own part I declare that neither I, nor any I am concerned in, shall draw a sword on this important occasion, whatever construction shall be put on the matter.’ In his reply to this appeal, Dundee admitted that, if he fell, his death might be a loss to them; but he reminded his hearers of the temper of their men. If the least reason were given them to doubt the personal courage of their leader, they would lose their respect for him, and give him, at best, but grudging obedience. For this reason, he begged to be permitted to give one ‘shear-darg’—that is, one harvest day’s work—to the King, his master, that he might have an opportunity of convincing the brave clans that he could hazard his life in that service, as freely as the meanest of them. If this were granted him he pledged his word never again to risk his person, so long as he had the honour of commanding them. Finding him inflexible in the chivalrous resolution which he had couched as a request, the Council reluctantly yielded.