GREUMOCH TAKEN.
On the evening of the rustic banquet, in compliance with the request
of the Duke of Montrose, three bodies of troops were on their march,
by three different routes, to surprise the whole of the MacGregors.
One party of the 15th Foot (then as we have said called Harrison's
Regiment) advanced from Glasgow; another of the South British
Fusiliers, under Major Huske, came from Stirling, accompanied by the
ungrateful Grahame of Killearn as Sheriff Depute of Dumbartonshire;
and a third party consisting of the Scots Royals (or 1st Regiment of
the Line) advanced from Finlarig.
But their marching was slow and devious, for the country was strange,
especially to the English troops, none of whom could be quartered in
Scotland prior to the Union in 1707. The Highlands were then without
roads, and the Government possessed "no correct map of those
unexplored regions which," as a recent writer says, "were almost as
little known south of the Tweed--or we may rather say, _south of the
Tay_--as the African deserts, or the interior of North America."
Hence, a night march among those pathless mountains was an arduous
task in these times; and on this occasion the rain descended in
blinding torrents; the water-courses became white cascades; mere
runnels were swollen to streams, and streams became dark impassable
floods. The guides led the troops astray, either wilfully or by
mischance; so that all arrived too late at the passes, and ere the
storm was fairly over, Rob Roy (whom they had hoped to pounce upon
when in bed) had intelligence of his unwelcome visitors, and got all
his men under arms.
Some firing took place about daybreak, and the king's troops
retreated, after the loss of only one man, a grenadier, who was shot
by Coll MacGregor from the summit of a rock; but in retiring the
Scots Royals captured and carried off Rob's right-hand man and long
tried follower, poor Greumoch MacGregor, who was immediately
transmitted to the Tolbooth of Creiff.*
* "Feb. --, 1717, Gremoch Gregorach, airt and part with Rob Roy
_alias_ MacGregor, in seizing of ---- Grahame of Killearn; robbing
him, carrying him away, and detaining him a prisoner several days. A
party ordered to be sent by Brigadier Preston to guard him from
Crieff Gaol to Edinburgh."--_Records of the Tolbooth of Edinburgh_.
Greumoch had been taken when lurking in the clachan of Aberfoyle, a
circle consisting of ten large stones, a druidical temple, situated
on rising ground near the Parish manse.
On tidings reaching Edinburgh that this important outlaw had been
captured, Brigadier George Preston, of Valleyfield, governor of the
castle, despatched a sergeant and six troopers of Campbell's Dragoons
(the Scots Greys) to Creiff, where they received Greumoch, with
strict orders to watch him by day and night until delivered to the
civil authorities, and safely lodged in the heart of Midlothian.
Being the first of Rob's men who had fallen into their hands, and
moreover being that bold outlaw's chief follower and kinsman, it was
resolved by rope, by axe, and knife to make a terrible example of him
by a public execution--to have him hanged, drawn, and quartered.
But in all these barbarities they were nearly anticipated by the
burghers of Crieff, who hated the Celts for repeatedly burning their
town, and a mob followed the captive, shouting,--
"The wuddy--the wuddy! a tow--a tow! let him fynd the wecht o'
himsel by the craig!" (which meant in English--"The gallows--the
gallows! a rope--a rope! let him feel the weight of himself by the
neck!")
So cried the Lowlanders, as Greumoch was conducted by the troopers,
not, as the mob expected, to the fatal circle at the Gallow-hill,
where the Stewards of Strathearn held their courts of old, but away
on the road that led to the south.
Bound upon a horse, the sergeant marched his prisoner through the
long and lovely valley of the Earn; with carbines loaded, a trooper
rode on each side of him, with orders to shoot him down if he
attempted to escape.
A village near Dunblane formed their first halting place. There one
of the troopers, who seemed less rough than his comrades, gave
Greumoch a dram, on which the sergeant said,--
"Come, Highlander, I'll teach you a toast.-"
"Will you?" asked Greumoch, sullenly.
"Yes--you dour-looking Redshank."
"Well--my glass is full."
"Here's to the health of King George--and to the confusion of his
enemies, including Rob Roy, the Pope, the Devil, and the Pretender!"
On hearing this offensive speech, Greumoch dashed the glass and its
fiery contents full into the eyes of the sergeant and half-blinded
him.
Inspired with rage, the non-commissioned officer ordered his men to
secure the prisoner beyond all chance of escape during the night.
The dragoons selected a heavy old-fashioned chair, in which they
placed Greumoch, and tied thereto his hands, arms, and legs, lacing
about him some twenty yards of rope, the knots of which were tied
behind; and now, deeming him secure beyond all hope of flight, they
stabled their horses, threw off their accoutrements, applied
themselves to the whisky-bottle, and after making very merry, retired
to rest in the outer room.
When all was dark and still, and poor Greumoch's hands and limbs were
fast becoming swollen, benumbed, and stiff--all but powerless, in
consequence of the cruel manner in which the soldiers had bound
him--he remembered having seen a knife on the table, where the
sergeant had left it by chance.
Could he but reach that knife! But, tied as he was, of what use
could it be? Yet there occurred to him an idea, which he resolved at
once to put in practice.
By vigorous, yet almost noiseless, efforts with his feet, he dragged
the chair across the room towards the table. At last he reached it,
and, after being so frequently baffled that he was about to
relinquish the attempt in despair, he contrived to take up the knife
in his mouth, and to grasp the handle firmly with his teeth.
Then, by turning his head on each side alternately, he applied the
edge so successfully to the cords which crossed his shoulders, that
he soon severed them. By this process he gradually got one hand
loose; but for many minutes it hung powerless by his side. However,
anon he grasped the knife with it, and in a short time was free; but
on rising from the chair, so much were his limbs benumbed, that he
staggered like a tipsy man, and overturned both chair and table.
Heavily they fell with a crash on the floor!
Greumoch rushed to the window, opened it, and leaped into the dark
and silent street of the village; but at the same moment, from
another window of the house, two carbines flashed, and the balls
whizzed past as the troopers fired at him in their shirts.
"You are only dragoons," snouted Greumoch, in Gaelic; "and dragoons
never hit anything; so fire away!"
Then with a derisive laugh he disappeared in the darkness.