ROB TAKES THE TOWER OF CARDEN.
The hills abounded with red deer, the moors and forests with other
game--the lochs and rivers teemed with fish--the pastures of the
Grahames were full of cattle; thus, Rob and his outlawed followers
lived sumptuously in their mountain fastnesses, whither none, as yet,
dared to follow them.
Montrose and Killearn were, at that time, beyond Rob's reach; so on
Archibald Stirling, of Carden, who had long withheld his tribute of
black-mail for service and protection rendered, fell the first burst
of his indignation.
It was on a day in the harvest of 1710, that he marched about two
hundred and fifty men, in hostile array, with pipes playing, through
the parish of Kippen, after passing through the wild glens that lie
at the feet of Benmore and Benledi.
This force suddenly appeared before the castle of Carden, which stood
on an eminence or island, formed by what was then a loch, but the bed
of which is now a rich green meadow, and its name signifies
"Caer-dun," or, the fort on the height. No vestige of this castle
remains now; though so lately as 1760 a portion of the great tower
was standing.
Archibald Stirling was a high cavalier, who, two years before, had
been indicted for treason, for having drunk the health of James VIII.
at the cross of Dunkeld, accompanied by the Stirlings of Keir and
Kippendavie, while swords were flourished, trumpets sounded, and
muskets fired.
On the occasion of Rob's visit, Stirling and his lady were both from
home, with many of their servants. No inroad was expected from any
quarter, and, as the drawbridge was down, the MacGregors, who had
been prepared to take the place by storm, quietly took possession of
the gates, spread themselves over the whole house, and the contents
of the cellars and pantries were quickly investigated.
When the family returned, about sunset, they found the gates shut,
the bridge drawn up, and the windows and bartizan full of
grim-looking MacGregors, in their red tartans, and bristling with
swords, axes, and long guns; while Rob's favourite piper, Alpine,
strode to and fro on the roof, playing his invariable air of
defiance, "The Battle of Glenfruin."
Outwitted and alarmed, the laird tied a white handkerchief to the
point of his sword, and dismounting from the saddle, behind which his
terrified lady rode upon a pillion, he advanced to the outer edge of
the moat, and waved thrice his impromptu flag of truce. On this the
pibroch ceased, and Rob Roy, with bonnet and feather, broadsword and
target, appeared at a window of the hall.
"What is the meaning of all this, MacGregor?" asked the laird,
sternly; "wherefore do I find your people here, and my own gates shut
against me?"
"Carden, remember the black-mail!" replied the outlaw, with equal
sternness. "You have long withheld the reward of that protection I
once afforded you; and you must yield it now, or see your house
burned to the groundstone."
"I will not yield you a shilling--nay, not a farthing of it. I am
able to protect myself against all reivers and thieves whatsoever."
"Our being _in_, and your being _out_, at present, cannot look very
like it," said MacGregor, laughing; "and here shall we stay,
Carden----"
"Till I rouse the Lennox on you, or get a party of troops from
Dumbarton. Remember that MacDougal's dragoons are lying at Kylsyth!"
exclaimed Carden, furiously, as he turned towards his horse.
"Hold!" cried Rob, sternly, and the appearance of MacAleister's gun,
levelled from the tower-head, made Carden pause; then a scream burst
from his wife, when perceiving that Rob held from the window their
youngest child, which he had taken from the cradle, as she feared
with some cruel intention--perhaps to cast it into the lake! Her
husband had the same dread, for he grew deadly pale.
"MacGregor, hold!" he exclaimed; "hold, for Heaven's sake, and spare
my child!"
"Who spared mine, when you and Killearn came like wolves in my
absence, and made my household desolate? Though my youngest-born was
sick and ailing, you stood coldly by, while it and its mother were
driven forth, from my house at Inversnaid, like the dam and cubs of a
wolf; so if I am the wretch that you and others seek to make me,
wherefore should I not dash this youngling at your feet, or cast it
into the loch?"
For a moment both father and mother were speechless with terror and
anxiety; but Rob was too humane to torment them thus. He laughed,
kissed and toyed with the poor child, whose plump fingers played with
his rough, red beard, and then he resigned it to the nurse, who was
well-nigh scared out of her senses.
"MacGregor," cried the Laird of Carden, "unbar the gate, and lower
the bridge, and you shall have your black-mail, every penny, with all
arrears."
"'Tis well, Carden; now you speak like a reasonable man, and shall be
alike welcome to your own rooftree, and to share with me a glass of
wine from your own cellar. Admit the laird, Greumoch," he added to
that personage, who had charge of the bridge and gate. He then
hurried down, and after courteously assisting the lady to alight from
her pillion, he conducted her into the castle, where he soon received
the tax, granted a receipt for it in legal form, and drawing off his
men, marched under cloud of night, and with all speed, towards the
mountains.
Since the battle of Glenfruin, and its subsequent severities, the
MacGregors had been a scattered clan; but they now began to flock to
Rob Roy in such numbers that he soon found himself at the head of
five hundred swordsmen.
As the representative of Glengyle, his influence over them was very
great, and they all regarded him as the man ordained by Heaven to
avenge their injuries on the Lowlanders; for a wrong done to one
member of a clan was a wrong done to all, as they were all kinsmen,
and related by blood.
Habituated to war and the use of arms, to a love of each other and of
their chief, a clan was endued with what an historian terms the two
most active principles of human nature--attachment to one's friends
and hatred of their enemies.
"Thus," says Sir John Dalrymple, "the humblest of a clan, knowing
himself to be as well born as the head of it, revered in his chief
his own honour; loved in his clan his own blood; complained not of
the difference of station into which fortune had thrown him, and
respected himself. The chief in return bestowed a protection founded
equally on gratitude and the consciousness of his own interest.
Hence the Highlanders, whom more savage nations called savage,
carried in the outward expression of their manners the politeness of
courts without their vices, and in their bosoms the highest point of
honour without its follies."*
* "Memoirs of Great Britain."
Notwithstanding the reward offered for his apprehension, Rob Roy was
often rash enough to venture from his fastness alone, and into the
very territories of his enemies, for he had become openly an adherent
of the exiled House of Stuart, and deep schemes were on foot for
maturing the plans of an insurrection; and the conduct of many of
these intrigues was committed to his care.
On one of these missions he found himself belated one night near the
village of Arnpryor, in the district of Kippen, to which he had paid
more than one hostile visit, and where, consequently, he was exposed
to many dangers.
Nevertheless, he repaired to the village alehouse, and found a
gentleman named Henry Cunninghame, the Laird of Boquhan, seated by
the fire over a bottle of claret, which cost only tenpence per
mutchkin, and was then a favourite beverage with all ranks in
Scotland. He at once recognized MacGregor, and they entered into
conversation; but some remarks which he made, either on the affairs
of the exiled king, or those of MacGregor, exasperated the latter,
who sprang up with a hand on his sword, in token of defiance and
quarrel. Boquhan was unarmed. MacGregor could have supplied him
with pistols; but being the challenged party he preferred the sword,
in the use of which few in Scotland equalled and none excelled him.
The goodwife of the tavern, fearing a brawl, averred that she had not
a single weapon in her house; so the laird despatched a messenger to
his residence for a sword, which his wife refused to send him,
knowing well it was required for a duel or a brawl; so daylight
broke, and found them still loth to part in anger, and still waiting
for a weapon.
It chanced then that Boquhan espied an old and rusty rapier in a
corner, which had hitherto escaped his notice. He at once possessed
himself of it; Rob unsheathed his claymore; the tables and chairs
were thrust aside, and the combat began with great fury.
It is stated that MacGregor soon discovered that he had no ordinary
antagonist in Henry Cunninghame; and having no particular animosity
to him, and remembering, perhaps, how perilous to his own clan his
death, or even a severe wound, would prove at that particular crisis,
after a dozen passes or so, he lowered the point of his sword, and
said,--
"Enough of this, Boquhan; I find you are brave as you are expert, and
I yield to you." So he sheathed his sword, and they parted good
friends; but Rob's enemies in the Lennox magnified his prudence into
a humiliating defeat.