immediately preceding Killiecrankie; but the passage recording the early
gallantry of the conqueror at Killiecrankie he did not take.[5]

It is unfortunate that the tale of these early years should assume so
controversial a tone. But where all, or almost all, is sheer conjecture,
it is inevitable that the narrative must rest rather on argument than
fact. The precise moment when Claverhouse transferred his services from
the French to the Dutch flag is, in truth, no more certain than the
date of his birth is certain, or his conduct at Saint Andrews, or,
indeed, than it is certain that he ever at any time served under Lewis.
The tale of those English services under the French King is in the last
degree confused and doubtful. If it is so in the case of such a man as
Marlborough, small wonder that it is so in the case of such a man as
Claverhouse, whose name was practically unknown till ten years before
his death. That he did, however, at one time bear arms in the Dutch
ranks seems as indisputable as any part of the scanty story of the first
two-and-thirty years of his life can be said to be. But beyond this it
is impossible to go.

In 1677 he left William's service and returned to Scotland. An idle
story was circulated some years afterwards of a brawl with one of
William's officers who had received the regiment promised to
Claverhouse, of a reprimand from William, and an indignant vow never to
serve again under a prince who had broken his word. The judicial weight
that has been brought to demolish this slender fabric is unnecessary.
The story itself is not consistent with the characters of either men. It
is very possible that the young soldier, like another young man of those
days, may have grown "tired with knocking at preferment's door;" but, in
truth, a reason to account for their parting is very easily found. With
the campaign of 1677 all fighting on the Continent was stayed for a