Kenny MacAskill’s Roots And Branches
Remembering a long-forgotten atrocity, the Massacre of Tranent
IT’S often said we don’t know our own history, although historical teaching has improved remarkably since I was at school.
What is still largely untaught, however, is our radical history, and the little that makes it onto the school syllabus comes through a British lens – understandable, perhaps, with the rise of the Labour movement.
At school I was never taught about the Massacre of Tranent, but was told about Peterloo, which I discussed in the August issue of this magazine. This was despite the fact that the latter took place around 300km (186 miles) south of where I grew up, whereas the former was less than 50km (28 miles) away.
The town of Tranent sits to the east of Edinburgh and the main road south used to run through it, before the A1 motorway was built to bypass the coastal towns.
The Massacre of Tranent, which took place in 1797, has been all but forgotten. Even though a statue stands on Tranent’s High Street, little else records the infamous event. It’s not just the town that’s been bypassed.
Yet, the event is important as it also gives a different perspective to other aspects of Scottish life. Every community has a statue to the fallen in various conflicts, but the idea that young Scotsmen grew up determined to join the army is far from correct.
Most did their duty when the need arose, for others it was an alternative to unemployment or emigration as the British Empire was forged. Billy Connolly’s Sergeant Where’s Mine song is perhaps more realistic than Andy Stewart’s A Scottish Soldier.
For the Massacre of Tranent was part of disturbances that broke out all across Scotland in late August 1797, when conscription was first brought in.
It was deeply unpopular even though it had been imposed in England several years earlier. Historically, troops had been billeted in communities, causing anger and resentment, giving the army a bad reputation. And it wasn’t just the navy that were guilty of press-ganging.
But Britain was at war with revolutionary France and troops were needed. A Militia Act was brought in to provide for defence at home, with promises made that service abroad wouldn’t be required. An increased military presence at home, though, wasn’t to deter a French invasion – it was as euphemistically described as to ensure “internal tranquillity”.
Whatever impression is given by Hornblower, Sharpe or other TV shows, ordinary Scottish people and many in England, were enthused by the revolutionary French call for liberty, equality and fraternity – explaining why garrisons were built across central Scotland in the 1790s.
It wasn’t simply that more troops were required, it simply wasn’t safe to billet them in communities where they might be suborned.
The authorities wanted a watchful eye kept. Resentment had been simmering after Thomas Muir and his fellow Political Martyrs were transported to Botany Bay for seeking the universal franchise a few years earlier.
The radical movement had altered after that. The wealthier sections drifted away, resulting in the radicalism becoming much more rooted in the working towns and villages, especially in the weaving communities but also among colliers.
A small section that believed in armed resistance also
“They fired straight at people – men and women were gunned down on the street”
emerged with the exposure of the Pike Plot and the formation of the United Scotsmen. Although limited in numbers, they caused great anxiety for the establishment.
The United Irishmen were also sending emissaries back and forth across the North Channel and it was perhaps for that reason that supporting physical resistance was given the euphemism “planting Irish potatoes.”
The state’s needs were such that, despite qualms, the Militia Act was brought in and 6000 men aged between 19 and 23 were to be selected.
Late August into mid-September saw more than 40 disturbances across Scotland from the south, through the Central Belt and into Highland Perthshire. The largest was in Strathtay, where more than 2000 confronted troops and shots were exchanged.
Demonstrations had started in Tranent on August 28, as people marched to surrounding villages, gathering support to confront the authorities the following day.
A proclamation was prepared in Prestonpans, opposing the law and reserving the right to resist. When Deputy Lord Lieutenants came with their constables to organise recruitment, they were supported by the military, as the authorities were worried about disorder.
There was little give and even less politeness shown by the authorities and it was reciprocated by angry locals. Stones were flung at soldiers from roof tops, while the Cinque Port and Pembrokeshire Cavalry rode down the
street trying to restore order, outwitted by locals running up closes and reappearing further down.
Pistol shots were fired as warnings, but were ignored. It’s not known who gave the order to fire, but it was the prelude to an army atrocity, as carbines were then drawn.
They fired straight at people – men and women were gunned down on the main street, others were pursued by Pembrokeshire cavalry through neighbouring fields.
People who hadn’t been involved in the demonstration were cut down, too. Neither age nor gender spared people, with a child cut down by a sabre and 12 in total killed.
An internal investigation accepted that many had been innocent but no action was taken against the military or authorities, and attempts to hold the army to account were quickly closed down. The disturbances faded and the collective memory likewise.
All that stands now is the statue but it represents a different Scotland to some of what has developed. It’s why our people’s history as well as our leaders’ history, deserves to be recalled.