THE DEVASTATION OF KIPPEN.
In the days of Rob Roy there were no police, troops, or garrisons in
his part of the Highlands, and no law was recognized save that of the
sword.
William III. had recently been placed on the throne, and he
exasperated the MacGregors by restoring all the oppressive Acts
passed against them--Acts which had been cancelled for a time by
Charles II. Thus they were again compelled to assume other names
than their own, or forfeit land, arms, and all means of livelihood.
The memory of William of Orange is still abhorred by the Highlanders.
He was a king whose cowardice lost the battle of Steinkirke, and by
whose behest torture was last judicially used, on Neville Payne, an
Englishman, in a Scottish court of law. He introduced flogging into
the army, keelhauling into the navy; "and he," says Sir William
Napier, "is the _only_ general on record to whom attaches the
detestable distinction of sporting with men's lives by wholesale; and
who fought the battle of St. Denis with the Peace of Nimeguen in his
pocket, because he would not deny himself a _safe_ lesson in his
trade;" and he it was who, by his own sign manual, condemned the
whole inhabitants of a Scottish valley to be slaughtered in their
beds at midnight, and this was _after_ he had _ratified_ the Treaty
of Achalader!
Hatred of this king and of those who adhered to him determined Rob
Roy to punish some of the Whigs in his neighbourhood, and remembering
how active the Buchanans had made themselves since the days of
Glenfruin, he resolved to fall upon them.
Assembling about two hundred men, and attended by MacAleister and
Greumoch, he marched from Inversnaid towards Kippen, giving out that
he went "in the name of King James VII. to plunder the rebel Whigs."
After a fifteen miles' march, they halted for the first night on the
northern shore of the Loch of Monteith, amid the thick groves of oak,
chestnut, and ancient plane-trees which flourish there. They shot
some deer, lighted fires, and proceeded to cook and regale themselves
on the venison, with all the greater relish that it belonged to their
hereditary enemies the Grahames of Monteith; and after posting
sentinels, they passed the night in carousing, and singing those long
songs still so common in the Highlands, where the air and the theme
have been carried down, from the days perhaps of the Druids, who,
when seeking to cultivate the people by music and poetry, framed
their songs with long choruses in which all could join.
And now, under the rustling leaves of the old forest, the MacGregors,
wrapped in their red tartan plaids, sat round the glowing
watch-fires, and made the dingles echo, as they sang one of the
ballads of the female bard of Scarba--Mary, the daughter of Red
Alister. Two hours before daybreak they were all on the march again,
and eight miles or so further brought them, in the early dusk of the
autumn morning, to Kippen. This village lies within ten miles of the
guns of Stirling Castle, and for centuries it had belonged to the
Buchanans. Here the fertile valley through which the Forth flows was
studded with prosperous farms and handsome country seats, surrounded
by luxuriant crops in some places, by the stubble-fields in others--a
rural scene, amid which the rocky bluff of the Abbeycraig and the
wooded summit of Craigforth start up boldly and abruptly, with their
faces to the west; and Rob Roy took care to choose the time of his
invasion when most of the crops were stored in the barn, and when the
cattle and sheep were gathered in pen and fold.
On the approach of the MacGregors, the old castle of Ardfinlay (of
which no trace now remains) and the tower of Arnprior were abandoned
by the Buchanans, without a shot being fired, while the village of
Kippen was evacuated by its inhabitants, who fled towards Stirling,
with whatever they could carry. Carts and horses were now seized by
the MacGregors, and loaded with grain, food, furniture, and whatever
they could lay their hands upon. The cattle, horses, and sheep were
collected in herds and flocks; and after sweeping the parish, Rob's
men were about to depart for Inversnaid, with pipes playing
triumphantly in front, when a body of men, armed with muskets and
bayonets, swords and pikes, appeared with drums beating, ready to
oppose them, about an hour after sunrise.
These men had been hastily collected and armed by Sir James
Livingstone, a gentleman who had served in foreign wars, and who was
resolved that Rob Roy should not harry the district without a blow
being struck in its defence. On the open ground known as the Moor of
Kippen, they came in sight of each other.
Rob halted his men with the spoil they had collected, and resolutely
advanced to the front, attended by his henchman, by Greumoch, Alaster
Roy, and a few others on whom he most relied. By his bearing and the
richness of his weapons, as well as by his ruddy-coloured hair and
beard, and the two eagle feathers in his blue bonnet, Sir James
Livingstone recognized the Laird of Inversnaid, and he also came
forward from his line, attended by a faithful servant, who was well
armed.
Under his ample red coat, which was open, Sir James wore a cuirass of
polished steel; his hat was cocked up by gold cord, and his full,
white periwig flowed over his shoulders. Under the cuirass he wore a
buff waistcoat, which reached nearly to his knees; he had his sword
drawn in his right hand, and carried a brace of loaded pistols in his
girdle, to which they hung by steel hooks.
"Have I the honour of addressing MacGregor of Inversnaid?" said he,
politely lifting his hat when within ten paces of Rob Roy, who
replied sternly--
"I am MacGregor. Had you styled me by another name than that which
my father left me, I would have killed you on the instant. And
you----"
"I am Sir James Livingstone. I have nothing to do with the laws
which seek the suppression of your name and the destruction of your
clan, save that I reprobate them; but I demand by what right you have
broken the King's peace, and come hither in arms to plunder a
peaceful district?"
"For three sufficient causes," replied Rob; "first, I have the old
Highland right by which we can at any time make a warlike inroad on
our enemies, which the Buchanans of Kippen and Arnprior have been
since that black day in Glenfruin; secondly, I break the peace of him
you name a king because I deem him a Dutch usurper; and thirdly, I
take from cowards that which they have not the heart to defend."
"I regret to hear all this," replied Sir James, persuasively, "for
there will be much blood shed, MacGregor, if you do not yield up the
spoil your people have collected."
"Yield it--to whom?" asked MacGregor, loftily.
"To me."
"Little care we for bloodshed," said the other, bitterly; "your
foreign kings and Lowland laws have made Clan Alpine like the Arabs
of the desert, whose hands are against all men, because the hands of
all men are uplifted against them. Yet I, personally, have no wish
to slay any of your people. You are a gentleman and a soldier, whose
character I value and honour; thus, if you choose, I will fight with
you here, hand to hand, with target and claymore, in front of our
men, and the spoil shall belong to him who draws the _first blood_."
"Agreed," replied Sir James, sternly; "but, though expert enough in
the use of the sword, I am unused to such a defence as the target."
"That shall be no hindrance," said Rob, as he handed to MacAleister
his round shield, which was composed of triple bull's-hide, stretched
over wood, covered with antique brass bosses, and had a long spike of
steel screwed into its centre.
The friends of Sir James now crowded around him, and bade him be
wary, and remember the vast strength of Rob Roy; the great skill he
possessed, the weight of his sword, and the advantage his length of
arm gave him over others. These warnings were not without effect on
Sir James, who was too brave to be without prudence. He came
forward, and, lifting his little three-cocked hat, the edge of which
was bound with feathers, like those of all the officers who served in
King William's wars, he said,--
"I agree to meet you, MacGregor, as a gentleman, on the distinct
understanding that the entire spoil shall remain with him who is
fortunate enough to draw the first blood; but, as being the person
challenged, I claim the right to choose my weapon, and for many
reasons prefer the pistol."
"Be it so," replied Rob, laughing, as Sir James divested himself of
his glittering cuirass: "I am not an old trooper like you, yet am a
good marksman nevertheless."
"Are your pistols loaded?"
"The pistols of a MacGregor are seldom otherwise, in these times,"
said Rob, as his countenance darkened; "and yours?"
"Are loaded, too."
"Shall we fire together, or toss up for the first shot?" asked
MacGregor.
"We will toss for the first shot, if you please," replied
Livingstone, who, aware that he was a deadly marksman, and had fought
several duels in France and Flanders with terrible success, had no
fears as to the result, if the lot fell to him.
"Then, Sir James, toss for me, but remain where you are," said
MacGregor, with indifference.
"And you will take my word for the coin--for the result!" exclaimed
Livingstone, with something of admiration in his tone and face.
"Had I doubted your word, I would not fight with you. On equal terms
I meet none but gentlemen."
A servant of Sir James, a man in livery, armed with a musket, now
came hastily forward to suggest some trickery, which his master
repelled with scorn--even with anger.
He threw up the coin--a crown piece; it glittered in the air, and
then fell on the grass.
"A head!" said MacGregor.
"I regret to say it is not a head," replied Sir James, touching his
hat, while his cheek flushed with triumph: "so I have won the first
shot!"
A shout of anger burst from the MacGregors on hearing this; but
Livingstone's followers waved their bonnets and clapped their hands
in exultation.
It was strange, the scene which took place on that morning, on the
wide moor of Kippen. On one side the grim band of armed MacGregors,
in their red tartans, with drawn swords, Lochaber axes, and long
muskets, guarding the whole spoil of the parish, and keeping together
the herds of lowing cattle and tethered horses, laden with bags of
bedding, and household utensils.
On the other, the well-armed retainers of Sir James Livingstone,
cross-belted and armed with pike and musket; and midway between, the
striking and picturesque figures of the two combatants, who were to
decide the affray, standing about twelve paces apart, with a pistol
in each hand.