Throughout his political career Atholl sat astride two horses: on the one hand he was a clan chieftain (known as ‘Ian Cam’ because blind in one eye), who lived ‘like a sovereign prince’ in his Highland castles, surrounded by ‘his degrees of gentlemen’, Catholic and Episcopalian followers whose loyalties were strongly Jacobite; on the other (impelled by acute financial need), he pursued ministerial ambitions in post-Revolution Edinburgh, which necessitated presenting himself as a Presbyterian and a Williamite.
Having stood by King William in 1689, while many of his clansmen fought on the Jacobite side, Lord Murray was rewarded with local office and in 1694 with his own regiment. This was not commensurate with his own opinion of his merits. However, after extensive lobbying, and with the assistance of his brother-in-law, Hamilton, he was made one of the secretaries of state in Scotland in 1696, with a pension of £1,000 a year, and commissioner to the Scottish Parliament. He was also named to the Scottish Privy Council by virtue of his office and raised to the peerage as earl of Tullibardine in his own right. After two years, friction with the other magnates in the Scottish administration, in particular James Douglas, 2nd duke of Queensberry [S], cost him his offices (his regiment had already been disbanded in 1697), and he joined Hamilton in opposition. His alienation from government was increased by disgust at the failure of the Darien scheme, of which he was an enthusiastic supporter, so that by the end of William’s reign he was one of the most prominent figures in the ‘country party’ opposition headed by Hamilton.
The root of the problem was his relationship with Queensberry, now the dominant influence in the court party: a natural rivalry between magnates, exacerbated by mistrust and personal dislike, which put Atholl constantly on the watch for a slight. Just before the new Parliament met on 6 May 1703 his father died and he became 2nd marquess. Queensberry informed him that the queen had signed a patent to raise the marquessate of Atholl to a dukedom. Atholl expected this to proceed, but was suspicious, and having asked Queensberry directly if there were any other such patents pending, he was told that there was also a patent for the marquessate of Douglas, which Queensberry believed should have priority. Atholl complained of ill treatment, even though his own patent for the dukedom passed on 30 June.
It was a self-fulfilling prophecy, and Atholl proved a thorn in Queensberry’s side. He created problems in the preparations for the Parliament and when the session began moved for the establishment of a committee of accounts, against Queensberry’s wishes. In the debate over supply, he seconded Seafield’s attempts to divert the thrust of the country party’s demand that priority be given to laws for securing Scotland’s religion, laws, liberties and trade. This too aroused Queensberry’s anger, as it did not fit with his plans, but Seafield once more came to Atholl’s defence. On 7 July 1703 Atholl supported his colleagues in rejecting a resolution proposed by Hamilton, that the act of security should include limitations on the power of the crown. But he ran into problems when he proposed amending a similar clause presented by John Ker, 5th earl (later duke) of Roxburghe. Atholl’s proposal was that ‘the limitations should not be confined to this session of Parliament, but to any other Parliament ... by which means ... we had the best handle whenever they were insisted on this session of parliament to put them off to another.’ However, Queensberry wanted to bring in a clause for a communication of trade with England, which he thought would be so popular that the question of limitations would be forgotten. Atholl at first acquiesced, but when it was suggested that he present this clause himself he drew back, suspecting that he would be blamed if it failed. He still spoke for it, and went with Seafield to the cavaliers, ‘to persuade them to go along with us’, but in the end the new clause was combined with Roxburghe’s resolution and Atholl had to vote for limitations after all. This he felt was a personal embarrassment, for which he blamed Queensberry.
Suspicions focused on Queensberry’s dealings with the notorious Jacobite Simon Fraser,11th Lord Lovat [S] in the so-called ‘Scotch Plot’. Atholl not only complained to the queen that Queensberry was intriguing against him, but set about ‘publishing ... it to the world’.
Atholl was back in Edinburgh at the beginning of May 1704 when he and Seafield were involved in the establishment of the ‘New Party’ administration. Although he wrote to John Hay, 2nd marquess of Tweeddale [S], to express his satisfaction at this turn of events and the hope that ‘your lordship has secured honest men being in the government, and that the enemies to our country and all good men be laid aside, particularly the duke of Queensberry’, his relationship with the ‘New Party’ (or Squadrone Volante, as it became known) was fraught.
Henceforth Atholl was in declared opposition alongside Hamilton. This extended to a vigorous, though unsuccessful, campaign in the 1705 parliamentary session to prevent Parliament from agreeing to negotiations for a union treaty, despite the blandishments of the court party, and despite the fact that Atholl himself stood to gain financially from a union, through the economic opportunities that would become available to the linen manufacture in his locality. Some historians have attributed his resolution in part to the influence of his wife, herself a determined anti-unionist.
Atholl’s opposition to the ratification of the Union was uncompromising, both inside and outside Parliament. He mobilized protests from Perthshire and Fife, and backed the campaign for a national address.
Atholl reacted badly to the death of his first wife in January 1707, and retired from public life, spending much of the next 18 months at Blair Castle preoccupied with his own health.
Although Atholl privately pressed a claim for monetary compensation for his ill-treatment in 1708 (a grievance he nursed for many years), it was only after his second marriage in the summer of 1710 that he once more took an active part in public affairs.
Atholl did not take his seat in the Lords until 18 Dec. 1710 (just over a month after the opening). He was present on 65 per cent of all sitting days in the session and it was only in the new year that there is any evidence of his activity. As soon as he came to London he sought to raise the issue of the 1708 arrests, complaining in particular about his own ‘hard usage’, but was advised by the queen that ‘it was very unfit at this time, so that it was laid aside’.
By the close of the session Atholl was thoroughly discontented with the unsatisfactory level of reward he had received for backing the ministry. In April the queen had agreed to act as godmother to the first child of his second marriage, and he afterwards received a gift of gilt plate worth £100.
In November 1711 Atholl refused to come to London ‘unless he be employed in the queen’s service’, pleading poverty: ‘he has not money of his own to spend there’.
Hamilton’s death in November 1712 offered Atholl an opportunity to demonstrate his leadership among the other Scots peers. Following the election of James Livingston, 5th earl of Linlithgow [S], in Hamilton’s place in January 1713, Atholl called a series of meetings in Edinburgh to draw up a list of the Scots peers’ grievances. His first draft met with little support, though, and he undertook to produce another in time for the next meeting.
Having been re-elected a representative peer, Atholl sent Oxford his proxy in January 1714 (though it does not appear to have been registered at that time) and on 15 Feb. told his mother-in-law that he was on his way to London.
Atholl lost his major offices with the Hanoverian succession, even if his loyalty to the new dynasty kept him in power locally. His political career was over, however, and he did not sit in Parliament again, devoting himself to improving his estates.
Atholl died at Huntingtower 14 Nov. 1724 and was buried at Dunkeld. A broadsheet mourned the ‘Highland hero’, presenting a stereotypical scene with his vassals dropping their claymores to howl wildly on hearing the melancholy news.
