KILLEARN'S FATE.
Rob Roy conveyed his prisoner to the head of Loch Katrine, and by the
time he arrived there, exhausted by toil, by the rough nature of the
steep paths he had been forced to traverse with such unwonted
celerity, and moreover being in constant fear of a dreadful death by
hanging on a tree, being drowned like a cur with a stone at his neck,
or being shot by a platoon of MacGregors, the unhappy Killearn was in
a deplorable plight, and had long since become quite passive in the
hands of his captors.
By order of Rob Roy, Greumoch placed him in a boat, and rowed him to
an island in the loch, now well known to tourists as "Ellen's Isle;"
it was covered with the richest copsewood, and there, in a hut with
Greumoch and another equally grim Celt to watch him, Killearn
remained in captivity, during which nothing was known of his fate in
the Lowlands, until he was permitted to write to the duke.
This letter, which he was compelled to date from Chapelerroch, lest
the real place of his detention should become known, acquainted the
duke that he was the helpless prisoner of Rob Roy, who was resolved
to detain him until a ransom of 3,400 merks Scots was paid for the
damage by Lord Cadogan's troops at Craigrostan and Auchinchisallan;
adding, moreover, that he would receive "_hard usage_ if any military
party was sent after him."
In breathless suspense poor Mr. Grahame waited for a reply, but the
duke was in London, the means and the mode of postal transmission
were slow in those days, and no answer came to his prayer.
Greumoch frequently terrified him by saying he should be cut joint
from joint and sent to London in a hamper, packed in heather, like a
haunch of venison for the duke's table.
After being detained a considerable time, one day, when hope of
release was becoming more and more faint, Killearn saw a boat pulled
by eight sturdy rowers in MacGregor tartan, the chief colours of
which are red, green, and black, coming down the loch from Glengyle.
It reached the island, and a tall, armed Highlander, in whom he
recognized Rob Roy, leaped ashore, and advanced towards the hut,
followed by several of his men.
Killearn, believing that his last hour had arrived, and that they had
come to execute him, drew forth his breeches bible with trembling
hands, and so much did his tongue fail him that he could scarcely
reply to Rob's courteous but ironical salute.
"Killearn," said he, "I am come to set you at liberty. Montrose,
your master, has proved as treacherous to you as he has been to me.
Little recks he whether I hang you on one of those trees, or give you
a swim in the loch with a stone at your neck! You are free; and this
you must admit is very different treatment to that which _I_ should
experience if our circumstances were reversed, and I were _your_
prisoner, as now you are _mine_. Return, with this advice from me.
Collect no more the rents of that land from whence I took you, as I
mean to be factor there myself in future."
"You, MacGregor?"
"I--and what matter is there for wonder? All that country which
Montrose and more than he brink and boast as their own, is but a
portion of the heritage of Clan Alpine. By false attainder and
studied legal villanies we have lost it; thus whatever is possessed
by the Grahames, the Murrays, and the Drummonds is ours, and ours it
shall be with the help of God and our good claymores!"
He then restored to the bewildered Killearn all his papers, receipts,
and rental-book, and sent him under an escort homeward through the
pass of Aberfoyle as far as the hills of Buchanan.
On this man, who had so greatly aided in his ruin, and who had so
grossly insulted his wife, he thus "took no personal satisfaction,"
says a writer, "which certainly shows the mildness of his character,
when we consider the habits and mode of thinking of the Highlanders
of his day."
In accordance with his threat he now proceeded to summon the whole
heritors and farmers of the western district of Stirlingshire, to
meet him in the old church of Drymen, there to pay the black-mail
which for some time past they had neglected to send to his nephew
Glengyle.
On the appointed day he marched there with five hundred men fully
armed, and took possession of the ancient church, which, as tradition
avers, the Wizard Napier (whose castle is close by) removed from
another place to its present site.
The land here belonged chiefly to the Grahames of Montrose and
Gartmore, yet such was the terror of MacGregor's name, that all the
farmers attended and duly paid the usual tribute--all at least save
one, who was bold enough to decline compliance; in consequence of
which his lands were instantly swept of everything that could be
carried off, or driven into the mountains.
Immediately on his return from London the Duke of Montrose applied to
the Scottish Commander-in-Chief, Lieutenant-General Carpenter, for a
sufficient body of troops to repress, if not totally root out, the
MacGregors, who were now feasting in ease, triumph, and jollity on
the plunder of his estates, in their fastnesses at the head of Loch
Katrine.
Rob Roy gave a grand entertainment in the old Highland fashion at
Portnellan, and the joviality was great, for the formerly poor and
penniless members of the clan he had enriched by the spoil of their
oppressors.
On this occasion deer and beeves were roasted whole, and laid on
hurdles or spars placed athwart the trunks of trees, so arranged as
to form a rustic table, at which hundreds could seat themselves. For
a hall they had the open valley, bordered by the great mountains that
look down on Glengyle, canopied by the mists and clouds of heaven; in
the distance the blue water and the wooded isles of Loch Katrine, all
reddening in the setting sun, and overshadowed by the vast summit of
Benvenue.
Alpine and other pipers played, nor were harpers from the Western
Isles wanting to make music there, and plenteous libations of whisky
(that never paid duty to the king), of claret landed by French
smugglers, and of Helen's home-brewed ale went round in stoups and
quaichs and luggies.
There on Rob's right hand sat his aged mother, with the little
English boy, Harry Huske, upon her knee, for the child was
alternately the plaything and pet of her and of her daughter-in-law,
Helen MacGregor.
After this great open-air banquet reels were danced on the smooth
turf, and torches of blazing pine were tied to poles when the light
of the long, clear midsummer night began to fail.
But lo! a sudden gathering of dark clouds, and the playing of green
lightning about the summit of Benvenue, announced a coming storm,
warning all to separate and seek shelter ere midnight came. Many
supposed the sudden storm which so rapidly followed this
entertainment was ominous of coming evil; but a few hours after it
was discovered to have been the means, perhaps, of saving Rob Roy and
all his followers from death or capture.