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 IIYERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFOR 
 
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SUMMER 
 
 AT THE 
 
 LAKE OF MONTEITH. 
 
 By p. dun, 
 
 STATION MASTER, PORT OF MONTEITH. 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 EDINBURGH: OLIVER AND BOYD. 
 
 GLASGOW: DAVID ROBERTSON. 
 
 STIRLING: ALEXANDER MILLER. 
 
 AND ALL BOOKSELLERS. 
 
 MDCCCLXVII. 
 
GLASGOW: PRINTED BY JAMES HEDDERWICK AND SON, 
 
 Printers to the Queen. 
 
TO 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. ERSKINE, 
 
 OF CARDROSS, 
 
 THESE PAGES ARE, WITH THE MOST PERFECT RESPECT, 
 INSCRIBED 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
KsDs 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 These pages — containing some notes of a locality unsur- 
 passed in placid loveliness, and surrounded by much of 
 the sublime, but which has hitherto attracted little notice 
 of the great travelling world — are now, for the first time, 
 presented to the public in a collected form. 
 
 When the idea first occurred to the Author, of bring- 
 ing the "Lake of Monteith," and the old traditions that 
 still linger around its shores, prominently before the public, 
 he was actuated by the desire of lending his humble aid to 
 raise in the estimation of those who, flying from the din 
 and bustle of commerce, seek for health and pleasure amid 
 the glories of Nature, a locality which, although seldom 
 traversed by the tourists who flock from all quarters of the 
 world to behold with their own eyes the land of "the 
 mountain and the flood," is, in his estimation, unrivalled 
 in its varied charms, and to which he feels proud to be 
 united by the strong tie of nativity. In attempting this, 
 however, he acknowledges his inability to do justice to a 
 subject with which only the genius of a Scott or of a Bums 
 could competently engage. 
 
 jvi30SS04: 
 
vi Preface. 
 
 The Author craves, therefore, the kind indulgence of 
 the courteous reader in his perusal of these pages; and, 
 should he consider they lack that interest, he is requested 
 to visit the district which they attempt to describe, and he 
 will find attraction without limit, of the most interesting 
 and imposing character. 
 
 PORT OF MONTEITH STATION, 
 
 June I, 1867. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Inchmahome, 9 
 
 Traditions regarding Sir John Menteith, .... 28 
 Tradition regarding the DecHne of the Earldom, . . 32 
 
 Traditional Battles, 35 
 
 Betty's Field, 41 
 
 The Earl's Niece, 44 
 
 Talla, 59 
 
 Life of Rob Roy, 62 
 
 Last Moments of Rob Roy, 99 
 
 Life of Young Rob Roy, 105 
 
 From Stirling to Inchmahome, 112 
 
 Doing Aberfoyle, 124 
 
 Cardross — Its Mosses — Their Age and Treasure, . .130 
 
 The Erskines of Cardross, 139 
 
 "Garden," • . . . .159 
 
 Monteith, 162 
 
 The Stirlings of Garden, 170 
 
 The Forresters of Arngibbon, .176 
 
 The M'Lachlans of Auchentroig, 180 
 
 A Sabbath on Ben-Lomond, 183 
 
 A Buchly vie Lyke- Wake of the Olden Time, . . .189 
 Curious Old Tradition regarding the Earl of Monteith, . 196 
 Curious Tradition regarding the Fairies, . . . .198 
 
 Monteith — Earl of Monteith, 2<X) 
 
 Graham — Earl of Monteith, 203 
 
 Extracts from the Record of the Session-Book of Port, . 208 
 
SUMMER 
 
 AT THE 
 
 LAKE OF MONTEITH, 
 
 INCHMAHOME. 
 
 Inchmahome, the subject of the present volume, is a 
 beautiful little island, of about five acres in extent, situ- 
 ated near the centre of the Lake of Monteith, beautifully- 
 adorned with trees, and contains the ruins of one of the 
 most ancient priories in Scotland. The Lake of Mon- 
 teith is a beautiful sheet of water, near the south-western 
 extremity of Perthshire. Situated in one of Scotland's 
 fairest vales, and adorned with three isolated islands, this 
 charming lake becomes at once an object of placid 
 beauty, surrounded by a touch of real grandeur. On the 
 north, tower the heath-clad hills of Monteith, the home 
 of the wild cat and the eagle — the abode of the wolf and 
 wild boar of old — the hiding-place of the outlaw and war- 
 chief of other days. Here the kilted warrior met his steel- 
 clad foe; for, 
 
 " Of later fields of feud and fight, 
 When, pouring from their Highland height, 
 The Scottish clans, in headlong sway. 
 Had swept the scarlet ranks away;" 
 
 when the fern-covered rocks re-echoed with all the thun- 
 
The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 ders of war — sounds long since chased away by the music 
 of the herdsman's pipe, or the song of the shepherd's 
 daughter. On the west, are the rugged passes and scat- 
 tered crags of Aberfoyle, with the heath-capped hills of 
 the country of Eob Eoy. On the south, are the dark 
 forests of Cardross, where the roe roams free and the 
 ospray rears her young; and on the east, mansions dot its 
 pebbled shores, with the lone country highway winding 
 along the sandy beach, like a huge native adder in its 
 coils, cooling its poisoned tongue in the silvery waters. 
 Landing on Inchmahome, one hundred feet from the shore 
 the Priory looms before you in gloomy grandeur, the 
 melancholy wreck of its former glory — ^hoary, holy pile, 
 gray with age, crumbling to decay before Time's withering 
 hand, but still a monument of the zeal and industry of its 
 early founders ! 
 
 The eastern gable of the Priory is thirty feet wide and 
 three storeys high, and is supported by strong buttresses. 
 There is one beautiful window in this portion of the 
 building. It looks towards the lake, and the arches, five 
 in number, are still standing. 
 
 The north wall is one hundred feet long, from the 
 eastern gable to what is called the "Bell Tower," and 
 twenty-one feet again from the corner of the tower to 
 the western gable. This wall has four windows; these 
 however, are of plain workmanship. The north door, 
 situated near the centre of the building, is also of plain 
 work. The holy water basin stood at the north corner 
 of the entrance-hall, leading up towards the grand altar; 
 and from this point there seems to have been a direct 
 
Inchmahome. 
 
 communication with the Nunnery, situated on a more 
 southern portion of the Island, and it appears to have 
 been arched over, as part of the arches still remain. The 
 holy water basin was a beautiful relict of the past, and 
 might long have remained to point the mind back to the 
 days that are gone, had not an ignorant native taken it 
 into his head that money was concealed below it, and 
 smashed it to pieces. The marks of this murderous pick 
 are still visible. This basin was hewn out of solid stone, 
 beautifully ornamented; and, until recently destroyed, was 
 as perfect as when it left the chisel, seven hundred years 
 ago. 
 
 Between the corner, where stand the remains of the 
 basin, and the '' Bell Tower," there had originally been 
 four arched gateways, complete trophies of the exquisite 
 chisel of the mason of old. Two of these alone now 
 remain, but are sufficient to convince us of their beautiful 
 and delicate workmanship. An image, in a most entire 
 state, stands on a broken arch near to the tower, and 
 is said to represent St. Colmicus. This stone was found 
 a few years ago, imbedded among the ruins, and placed 
 in its present position by the proprietor. 
 
 The Bell Tower appears to have been of later construc- 
 tion than the Priory, as one of the aforementioned arches 
 is completely covered by it, the tower having been built 
 in its direct front. This building is twelve feet square 
 inside, and is four storeys high. The top was reached by 
 a winding stair; and, from the '^Bellman's window," a fine 
 view of lake and mountain scenery could be had. The 
 lower portion was used by the last Earls as a dungeon. 
 
The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 The western gable is thirty feet wide; and the principal 
 object of attraction is the main gateway, a perfect triumph 
 of Gothic architecture, which displays, in a wonderful de- 
 gree, the perfection of ancient masonic art. There is here 
 an exhibition of masonic skill rarely to be met with, even 
 in old monastic buildings. Being much exposed to the 
 weather, however, the fine grooving and minute chisel work 
 are slowly but surely crumbling away. The wall over the 
 archway has been adorned with five images, but the ra- 
 vages of time have very nearly defaced them. One or 
 two of these are entirely worn off, but on the remain- 
 der, the faint outlines of a face can yet be traced. The 
 doorway is twelve feet high and six feet wide; and, in 
 our boyish days, some large trees had their roots on the 
 ruined wall immediately above, and spread their gray 
 antlers wide to the breeze, but these have been cut down 
 to preserve the building. One large root still, like a 
 mighty serpent, creeps among the aged stones, and hides 
 its head in waving ferns. 
 
 A considerable portion of the south wall has succumbed 
 to time, and has fallen down several feet. This is much 
 to be regretted, as it gives a sort of ragged appearance 
 to the otherwise entire building. There have been four 
 arched windows in this portion of the building. Two 
 of these, however, have been thrown down, but the re- 
 maining two prove that they were moulded by the same 
 cunning hand that adorned other parts of this ancient 
 edifice. 
 
 The choir of the church has long been used as a burying- 
 ground; probably for five or six hundred years; and here 
 
IncJimahome, 
 
 13 
 
 repose the dust of earls and chiefs of clans, and men who, 
 in days long gone by, had measured lances on the hill- 
 side, when clan met clan in deadly feud. We enter the 
 " lonely biggin','' and, as the massive gate reels back on 
 its hinges, ravens croak and owls flap their wings. Hush, 
 ye tenants of the air! ye disturb the slumbers of the 
 " mighty dead." We step lightly, for we are treading on 
 the dust of heroes of other days. It requires no marble 
 slab on the ruined wall to tell of your ancient glory: the 
 dark and misty track of five hundred years has failed to 
 efface it — the memory of the Stewart, the Drummond, and 
 De Graeme can never perish! Here, below each moss- 
 covered stone, are men of fame and graves of historic 
 renown. Before us, in " sculptured stone," arm in arm 
 with his Countess, rests the hero of Largs; on our left, are 
 the graves of the Grahams of Gartur, Phaedal, Rednock, 
 Leechtown, and Soyock; on our right, the Grahams of 
 Gartmore, Glenny, Mondhuie; and, close to the north 
 wall, sleep the founders of the ducal house of Drummond, 
 the descendants of the Hanoverian King. And here too 
 (but, dear reader, only whisper it!) rest the ashes of Sir 
 John Menteith, the betrayer of Wallace; but all trace of 
 his grave has been lost — in fact, wilfully forgotten. 
 
 A few yards south of the Priory stands the burying- 
 vault of the last Earls of Menteith and Airth. This has 
 been a two-storey building, with arched vaults, the latter 
 being seated round with hewn stone. There are two very 
 entire windows in this building, the one of three arches, 
 the other of two. The entrance to the vault was by a grand 
 arched hall, one hundred feet long, and led in from the 
 
14 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 west. On each side of the gateway stood the crests of the 
 Earls of Menteith and Airth. 
 
 Adjoining the aforementioned vault, and on the south 
 side, stand the ruins of a large nunnery,'^' said to be the 
 oldest building on the island. It measures nearly one 
 hundred feet long, and the lower storey has been arched 
 over. One of the apartments, the kitchen, is still standing 
 — the large chimney and fireplace being very entire. The 
 windings of a stair which has reached to some high portion 
 of the building can also be traced. 
 
 On the south-western portion of the island, and sur- 
 rounded by a broken-down wall, is the original flower 
 garden of the Earls of Menteith. This plot of ground is 
 thirty-five yards square, and in the centre stands a fine 
 old boxwood tree, said to have been planted by Queen 
 Mary. Notwithstanding its having weathered the storm 
 of ages, it is in a fine healthy and growing state. This 
 tree measures upwards of three feet in circumference, and 
 has beautifully spread branches. 
 
 On a gentle rising knoll, at the western side of the 
 aforementioned flower-plot, stands what is called "' Queen 
 Mary's Bower," said to have been planted by her own 
 tiny hand; and such a spot could only be chosen by a 
 Queen. This most interesting little spot measures thirty- 
 three yards round the outside, and was originally adorned 
 with a row of boxwood trees, planted at regular intervals, 
 with a thorn in the centre; but through neglect, the plun- 
 
 * This building is traditionally called "The Nunnery," but for what reason I 
 cannot discover, there beii*^ no note in history that there had ever been a nunnery 
 or nuns on the island. Graham of Duchray says it was the "dwellings of the 
 churchmen." 
 
Inchmahome, 1 5 
 
 dering of tourists, and the blasts of three hundred years, 
 only five of those hallowed relics of the past wave their 
 green heads over the ancient playground of the Royal 
 Maiden. Several years ago, the thorn succumbed to the 
 gale, but happily a tender ^jhoot sprung from the torn 
 roots, and now stands, like a young queen, on the place 
 where its parent stood of old. A neat modern railing 
 now secures this sacred spot from profane hands, and 
 a row of young boxwood from the parent stems grows 
 green around it. We linger long near this ancient bower, 
 the only living emblem of a long unhappy past; for our 
 fancy delights to roam amid such scenes, and wander 
 back to the time 
 
 When monarchs, far from din of court, 
 Did to thy fairy shades resort ; 
 And maiden queens, with joyous smile, 
 Sported through the sylvan isle. 
 
 A gentle eminence, on the south-eastern corner of the 
 island, bears the name of the "Nun's Hill;"^ and on this 
 knoll, it is said, the nuns used to disport themselves, 
 and gather peebles on the shore, during the intervals 
 of their holy functions. A communication from the Nun- 
 nery — by a walk, guarded on each side by high walls, 
 
 * Universal tradition sets this knoll down as the "Nun's Hill," and the tradition 
 regarding it is a rather singular one. A nun, who having fallen in love with a son 
 of one of the first Earls of JNIenteith, resolved to throw aside the veil, break her 
 vow, and leave the dungeons of Cambuskenneth for the sweets of Talla. A meet- 
 ing had been arranged on this particular spot, and a boat provided on the eastern 
 shore to take the nun to Inchmahome. But, alas for love ! a neighbouring clan 
 invaded the Earl's domain, and leading his father's clansmen against the foe, the 
 brave youth fell on the dark braes of Mondhuie. In his last moments, the youth 
 unconsciously divulged to his confessor his meeting with the nun. Enraged at the 
 insult offered to his church, the cruel monk resolved to be revenged. Disguised as 
 the young nobleman, he watched the arrival of the nmaway nun. Well, 'twas a 
 
1 6 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 and still called the ''Nun's Walk" — led to this place of 
 retirement, and completely screened them from the vulgar 
 gaze. This mound appears to have been partly natural 
 and partly artificial. It has finely sloping sides, with flat 
 top, and a large oak tree spreads its withered arms around 
 its summit; while, at the east side, a beautiful specimen 
 of native fir hangs its green tresses over the ancient walk, 
 once trod by holy feet alone. 
 
 Between a point on the south side of the island and 
 the adjacent "Talla" or ''Earl's Isle," there is an echo 
 that will repeat several words at a time; and oft has this 
 "hollow sound" returned the holy voice of a monk or 
 nun, and sent back the thundering tones of a belted 
 knight or warrior, or whispered from isle to isle the lisping 
 accents of the virgin Queen, as the fairy thing sported 
 along the pebbled shore. 
 
 The Island of Inchmahome is beautifully wooded; many 
 of the trees have attained an immense size, and have 
 spread their antlered heads for ages over its hallowed 
 soil. A number of these monarchs of the forest have 
 yielded to the gale, and their gigantic trunks lie scattered 
 over the soil that gave them birth, telling the spectator 
 
 clear moonlight night when the monk threw aside_ the gown and cowl for a warrior's 
 dress, and took his place on the appointed spot. By-and-by a small black speck 
 is seen on the Inchie shore; 'twas the nun in her lover's boat. She, footsore and 
 weary, had trod the plain from Stirling to the lake, and was now pushing her scal- 
 lop over the tiny waves. Shortly the boat touched the sand, and the fair lady 
 sprang into her supposed lover's arms; but, alas! it was only to be hurled back to 
 perish in the blue waters. Next day the monks on the island had the body taken 
 from the lake, and interred in an upright posture on the knoll — hence the " Nun'? 
 Hill." A large stone near the top of the hill marks the supposed spot. At a cer- 
 tain hour in the evening, tradition says, a dark figure may yet be seen treading the 
 " Nun's Hill.'* 
 
Inchmahome, 1 7 
 
 that the most noble of earth's productions will eventually 
 pass away. The western half of the island united with 
 " Talla," the Earl's residence, to form the Earl's demesne; 
 and, but a few years ago, Inchmahome could boast of a 
 rare and beautiful orchard, but which has unfortunately 
 been allowed to fall into decay. The tourist no longer 
 looks upon the trees beneath whose boughs earls roamed, 
 or monarchal hands plucked the golden fruit. Brighter 
 days, however, are dawning on the " Isle of rest;" and we 
 trust that the good work of restoration already begun will 
 go on until every breach be repaired, and the rubbish, that 
 lies scattered like wreck after a debauch, be swept away. 
 
 There is much in Inchmahome for the instruction of the 
 tourist, the study of the geologist, and the admiration of 
 the antiquarian. As a place of beauty and retirement — 
 where Nature has richly displayed her varied charms — 
 combined with the ever hallowed associations that are 
 heard in every echo, that linger in every glen, that rest 
 on the heathery hillside, and are wafted back by every 
 balmy breeze which floats around its shores — the Lake 
 of Monteith, and the fairy islands that nestle on its bosom, 
 stand alone in their glory. 
 
 The era of monasteries is a date long gone by, ''far off 
 and dim," a story of an early age; and it is only when we 
 look back along the dark and misty track of history, that 
 we ever and anon get a glimpse of the time when those 
 '' oases in the natural and moral wilderness" reared their 
 heads throughout the dark corners of our land. We must 
 note the era of these as the dawn of civilisation among a 
 warlike and savage people, and in those dark ages they 
 
The Lake of Moiiteith. 
 
 must have spread a healthful influence around them. The 
 monks tilled the soil, and the peasants followed their ex- 
 ample. At early dawn and dewy eve they chanted the 
 praises of God; and warriors, attired only in their kilts, 
 with naked swords, bowed their heads to listen. By their 
 example, industry was promoted, and holy religion spread 
 throughout the land. But, alas! time changed with, the 
 roll of centuries, and, through the gifts of the great and 
 the good, monasteries swelled into magnificence. Instead 
 of " growing in grace," however, they became the abodes 
 of revelry, riot, and dissipation; their glory faded; and 
 the day arrived when they had to be swept from the earth 
 as an abomination, and only left behind them those noble 
 wrecks — standing stark, like gigantic skeletons — the wonder 
 and admiration of later years. 
 
 The Monastery of Inchmahome is the very earliest 
 Augustinian monastery in Scotland, and was an extensive 
 and noted one, the existing ruins bearing proof of its once 
 ancient grandeur. The Priory was founded by Edgar, 
 King of Scotland, who succeeded to the throne on the 
 death of his father, Malcolm III., in the year 1098. The 
 Priory belonged to the Canons regular of the Augustinian 
 order; it was originally connected with the Abbey of 
 Cambuskenneth, and had four dependent chapels. It 
 does not appear that Edgar did more than establish 
 religious men on the island during his reign, for it is 
 certain that the church at least was either erected or 
 rebuilt by Walter Cumyn, Lord of Badenoch, who married 
 the eldest daughter of the Earl of Menteith. And from 
 the document authorising Cumyn to build a religious 
 
Inchmahome. 1 9 
 
 house on the island, it appears that it was originally in 
 the diocese of Dunblane; for, says that paper, " the said 
 Bishop of Dunblane, in the name of his church, for him- 
 self and all his successors, shall renounce all right which 
 the said bishops or their predecessors, in the name of 
 the church of Dunblane, have, had, or might or could 
 have, in lands, or money-rents received from lands, and 
 in all revenues and rents annually drawn in name of pen- 
 sions from the church of the Earldom of Menteith." 
 
 Inchmahome was united by James IV. to the Chapel 
 Royal of Stirling, but was afterwards dissolved from the 
 College, and bestowed by James V. on John Erskine, third 
 son of Lord Erskine. Erskine having outlived his brothers, 
 succeeded his father as Lord Erskine. He afterwards ac- 
 quired the title of Earl of Mar, and was elected Regent of 
 Scotland. It appears from an Act in the reign of James 
 VL, that Cardross, in Monteith, belonged to the Priory; 
 for, according to said Act, entituled '' Act of annexation of 
 Forfaulted Landis and Rentis to the Crown," the lands of 
 Cardross are therein described as ^/ feu lands of Inchma- 
 home." 
 
 That Inchmahome had long been an occasional royal 
 residence is fully authenticated by history. We find from 
 Buchanan that Duncan IL, King of Scotland, was murdered 
 here in the year 1094, by M'Pender, the Earl of Mearns. 
 M Tender was bribed by Donald Bane, the deposed mon- 
 arch, to assassinate his king, and being a factious nobleman, 
 marched to Monteith, under the cloud of night, and suc- 
 ceeded in killing Duncan and afterwards making his escape. 
 Tradition asserts that King Edgar, who reigned from the 
 
The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 year 1098 to 1 107, resided frequently on the island. There 
 is, however, no other historical notice of royalty having 
 been on the island till Bruce's visit on the 15th of April 
 13 10, and it was then the scene of his issuing some royal 
 prerogatives. One of these is the confiscating of all the 
 goods, movable and immovable, of John de Pollox, who 
 is described as an enemy of the King; and concludes, 
 ^' Given at the island of Saint Colmicus, the fifteenth day 
 of April, in the year of grace one thousand three hundred 
 and ten, and fifth year of our reign." Queen Mary was 
 carried to Inchmahome by her guardian, the Marquis of 
 Montrose, and Lord Erskine, immediately after the battle 
 of Pinkie, in September 1543.* It is not correctly known 
 how long Mary resided here, but there is a space of three 
 months from the date of Pinkie to the time when she sailed 
 from Dumbarton for France, and it is generally believed that 
 the most of that time was spent on Inchmahome, where she 
 planted the boxwood bower that still retains the name of 
 its royal founder. 
 
 James VI. is said to have been the last crowned head that 
 sought the sweets of retirement in Inchmahome, and this 
 is supposed to have been when the King was on a visit to 
 his old class-fellow, the Earl of Mar, at Cardross House. 
 
 Among the many royal sports practised on the Island of 
 Inchmahome, none is said to have been so popular with 
 the " crowned heads" as that of fishing with geese. This 
 singular and original mode gave much amusement to the 
 spectators, and was of a most interesting kind. A number 
 of geese were let loose upon the lake, each having a line 
 
 * Some writers say three months, others two years. 
 
Inchmahome. 
 
 with hook and bait attached to its leg. The poor goose 
 would not proceed far before some huge pike would pounce 
 upon the bait, and then began "the tug of war." As soon 
 as the fish found itself hooked, it would dart far amid the 
 blue waters, dragging the unwary goose below the surface; 
 but, instantly recovering itself, the noble fowl would flap 
 his wings and make the vain endeavour to fly oif, but 
 would be again and again drawn back. By-and-by, how- 
 ever, the distinguished member of the farm-yard would 
 prove too much for his adversary, and the floundering pike 
 would be landed in triumph. 
 
 Interesting as every spot on the Island of Inchmahome 
 is — its ruined w^alls, its "sky-roofed halls," the King's 
 walks, and the Queen's garden,— yet there is none so full 
 of deep interest, and that tends to carry the mind back to 
 the dark vista of time when the mantle of oppression hung 
 its thick and sable folds deep around Scotland, than the 
 last resting-place of the heroes of other days. Side by 
 side sleep those early champions — warriors who had robed 
 themselves in martial glory in their country's cause; and 
 though many of them live but in tradition, and on the 
 stones that cover them, their memory will for ever find a 
 place in the bosom of an ever-grateful native population. 
 
 The first grave that attracts attention, is one immediately 
 in front of the entrance-gate, consisting of two figures in 
 sculptured stone, executed in bas-relief, representing Wal- 
 ter Stewart and his Countess. This Walter Stewart was 
 son of Alexander, the High Steward of Scotland. He 
 married the second daughter of the Earl of Menteith, and 
 succeeded to the Earldom on the death of Cumyn, who 
 
The Lake of Monteith, 
 
 was married to the eldest daughter. The historian of the 
 house of Buchanan asserts that he was married to the 
 heiress of Cumyn. This Walter Stewart was a very pro- 
 minent man of his time, and took part in all the leading 
 incidents of the day. He commanded a part of the army 
 at the battle of Largs, when Haco, King of Norway, in- 
 vaded Scotland, in 1293. He was a distinguished Crusader 
 under Louis IX. of France; and was one of the arbiters 
 on the part of Bruce, in his competition for the crown 
 with John Baliol. Walter had two sons, Murdoch, his 
 successor, and Sir John Menteith of Rusky, the betrayer 
 of Sir William Wallace, and the ancestor of all those of 
 the surname of Menteith. There is here, perhaps, the 
 greatest contrast between a father and son to be found in 
 the history of this or any other country. The father, it 
 would seem, during the whole tenor of his days, had but 
 one grand object next his heart — the welfare of his heart- 
 broken, bleeding country; and the strength of his interest 
 and the prowess of his arm were used in securing for 
 Scotland her lawful rights, and ridding her shores of foreign 
 oppressors ; — the son selling, for a paltry reward, the 
 greatest hero that ever trod its soil ! 
 
 The next spot that attracts attention, is the last resting- 
 place of the illustrious members of the house of Drummond 
 — the tombstone being of the most ancient and interest- 
 ing kind. This remarkable stone is executed in bas- 
 relief, and the carving represents the figure of a knight 
 in full armour, accompanied by the , archangel Michael, 
 and St. Colmicus trampling on the dragon. The inscrip- 
 tion is much wasted by its great age; and, by the gross 
 
InchmaJiofiie. 23 
 
 carelessness of those in charge of the island some years 
 ago, the stone unfortunately got broken. It reads thus: 
 — ''John of Drumod, son of Malcolm of Drumod. His 
 widow, that she may loose their souls from punishment and 
 the sting." The intelligent reader will understand that 
 '' Drumod" is the ancient Celtic pronunciation of Drum- 
 mond. This stone is proof that the Priory was dedicated 
 to St. Michael; and St. Michael's fair used to be held on 
 the farm of Miling, on the shores of the lake. Sir John 
 Drummond, represented on this stone, was son-in-law of 
 Walter Stewart, Earl of Menteith, and brother-in-law to Sir 
 John, the betrayer. Sir John succeeded his father about 
 the year 1278. He was said to have been a man '' of great 
 parts and influence." He was the eighth chief of his family, 
 and Thane or Earl of Lennox. At the hot discussions and 
 violent contests that raged in Scotland about the succession 
 of Alexander III., he took a prominent part in Bruce's 
 cause. His son Malcolm was a keen supporter of Robert 
 Bruce, and distinguished for his opposition to the English 
 king. Malcolm was, however, taken prisoner in the year 
 1 30 1, by John Seagrave; and so great was the joy of the 
 English monarch, that, on the 25th of October of the same 
 year, he offered public thanks in the Cathedral of Glasgow 
 for the " good news." Sir Malcolm was, on this occasion, 
 compelled to swear fealty to Edward, and was afterwards 
 set at liberty. On his return to Monteith, however, he re- 
 nounced all allegiance to the English king, and repaired at 
 once, with his vassals, to the standard of Bruce; and thus we 
 find him once more face to face with his old enemy. He 
 after\vards took a prominent part in the battle of Bannock- 
 
24 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 bum, which resulted so disastrously to the English. Im- 
 mediately after the battle, he was gifted with extensive 
 grants of lands; and, being of a very pious turn of mind, 
 he conferred upon the Priory of Inchmahome his estate of 
 Cardross. 
 
 There was another true defender of his country, Sir 
 John, son of the above Malcolm Drummond. This Sir 
 John had a mortal hatred of his cousins, the Menteiths of 
 Rusky, the grandsons of the betrayer. And it requires no 
 great stretch of fancy to imagine how this would occur, 
 seeing that the family of the Drummonds were warm ad- 
 herents of their country, and the others its mortal and 
 direst enemies. Whether it was to revenge his own private 
 quarrel, or for the purpose of punishing the Menteith 
 family for the disloyalty and the disgrace brought upon 
 the country, we have no means of knowing, but history 
 affords us a clue to the terrible results. The traditions 
 of the country are, however, that it was a bold and de- 
 termined plan, on the part of Drummond, to destroy, at 
 once and for ever, every seed of the obnoxious family. 
 Accordingly, early in the year 1360, he attacked the Men- 
 teiths near Rusky with a strong band of his chosen vassals. 
 The Menteiths collected in great force to defend them- 
 selves, but were unable to cope with the fierce character of 
 Drummond, and they received at his hand a terrible chas- 
 tisement, three out of five brothers of the Menteiths being 
 slain, besides a great number of their followers. Some 
 short time after this deadly fray, an agreement was effected 
 between the families, and Sir John Drummond renounced 
 to the youngest of the two surviving brothers of the Men- 
 
Inchmahome. 25 
 
 teiths, as compensation for the slaughter, the estate of 
 Roseneath. The treaty between the chiefs of the two 
 famihes is dated '* Banks of the Forth, near Strivelyn, 
 17th May 1360." Sir John was married to the heiress of 
 Montifex, and their only daughter was the accomplished 
 Queen of Robert III., and said to have been born at 
 Drumnacaistal, near Drymen, and for which the people 
 of Drymen ought to feel justly proud. 
 
 " The Story of the Drummonds," as it is called in tra- 
 dition, is a curious and singular one, and had a very im- 
 portant bearing on the early history of Scotland. 
 
 During the reign of Malcolm III. of Scotland, there was 
 staying at the Court of the King of England a young 
 foreign prince, the son of the King of Hungary. He was 
 pious, young, and brave, and was a great favourite at 
 Court. The King, too, had an only daughter, the affianced 
 bride of the King of Scotland; and when the time drew 
 near when she was to leave her home and her fatlierland, 
 to become the Queen of the northern monarch, Maurice, 
 "the young Hun," as he was called, being soldier and 
 sailor as well, was selected chief of the staff that was to 
 escort the fair maiden to her distant home. With tears 
 in his eyes, and his heart at the breaking, the old monarch 
 handed his young daughter over to the charge of the 
 prince, and he sailed away from England's shore. When 
 the maiden's heart grew weary, and longed for her father's 
 Court, he cheered her up with hope, told her stories of 
 love, and sung the war hymns of his native land. All went 
 well, and at last the shores of old Scotia dawned in view. 
 It was the last night at sea; the sun sank behind the still 
 
 c 
 
26 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 waters with unusual splendour; and all but one spoke of 
 a happy landing on the shores of their new home. There 
 was one old sailor there who shook his head, stroked his 
 grey beard, and whispered doubts of the morrow, as he 
 scanned the western sky. During the night all was still; 
 but in early morn the stillness awoke into a breeze, the 
 breeze broke into a storm, and with daylight came the 
 hurricane, and all around was tempest and roaring sea. 
 The wild waves rolled, the wind howled, and the sails 
 flapped; while the frail bark creaked from stem to stern, 
 and drifted fast ashore. 
 
 Hope fled from every breast. Behind was the raging 
 sea; before, the rugged rocks; around was heard the cries 
 of drowning sailors, the crash of falling masts, and the 
 din of floating timber. Calm and unruffled stood the 
 young Hun, wirth a tender maiden half dead in his 
 arms. One wave rolled past; and he gazed at it, but 
 hesitated. Another, greater than the first, came rolling on; 
 but still he only looked on its foaming surface. Another, 
 greater than the two, came hissing after; and, lifting his 
 heart to Him who had brought him safe from fiery foe and 
 battle-field, he sprang amid the angry tide and was rolled 
 ashore, and, with the grasp of despair, clutching the 
 rock, and dragging himself and the unconscious maid up 
 on to the crags, he landed England's Princess and Scot- 
 land's Queen safe on land. 
 
 He took the three waves for his coat of arms, and for his 
 bravery he received from the Scotch King extensive grants 
 of lands. So says tradition; history tells the rest. He was 
 gifted by King Malcolm with the lands of Drummond, and 
 
Inchmahome. 27 
 
 was afterwards known as Maurice De Drummond.* All the 
 early chiefs of the house of Drummond are interred in the 
 choir of Inchmahome. There is another remarkable grave- 
 stone in the choir, it is also executed in bas-relief, and bears 
 the arms of the Grahams, with the following initials carved 
 upon it, " G. D. E. D." being the initial letters of the words 
 " Gloria Deo Esto Data;'' " Let glory be inscribed to God." 
 This stone is also of antiquity, and appears to have been 
 the burying-place of the first Earls of the name of Graham. 
 
 * He had also Cardross, Balfron, and Roseneath. 
 
2 8 The Lake of Monteith, 
 
 TRADITIONS REGARDING SIR JOHN MENTEITH. 
 
 Sir John Menteith was the second son of Walter 
 Stewart, Earl of Menteith, and was born on the island of 
 Inchmahome. On the death of his father, Sir John suc- 
 ceeded to the estate of Rusky, and resided 
 
 " Where the majestic Grampians spread 
 Their shadow o'er old Husky's head; 
 Where friendship warms the escutcheoned walls 
 Of frowning Rusky' s antique halls." 
 
 Sir John selected as his place of residence a small island 
 on Loch Rusky — a dark and deep, but beautiful sheet of 
 water, about midway between Callander and Lake of Mon- 
 teith, having a commanding view of the surrounding coun- 
 try. On this little island he built a strong castle, the ruins 
 of which still remain. Sir John is reported to have kept a 
 fleet stud of horses, for the purpose of carrying out his 
 traitorous designs with the English king; and, in support 
 of this tradition, the course for training the horses is still 
 to be seen on the banks of the loch. Another of Sir John's 
 castles was the Castle of Monteith, now called Castle of 
 Rednock, a considerable portion of which is still standing. 
 This castle was originally very strong, of great dimensions, 
 and beautifully situated beneath a proud wing of the 
 Grampians, from the summit of which there is one of the 
 most varied and commanding views in Scotland. One roll 
 of the traitor's eye could view the country from Leith to 
 
Sir John Menteith. 29 
 
 Lennox — that fertile country, studded with trees, dotted 
 with villages, and rivers rolling through its plains — the very- 
 garden of Scotland — the cradle of Scottish patriots. When 
 occasion served, Scotland's direst enemy — he who was nur- 
 tured in her own anus, and who spilt her best blood — 
 swept from his impregnable fortress, like the wild eagle 
 from his eyrie, upon his doomed prey. Many reasons are 
 assigned as the cause of Menteith betraying Wallace. Some 
 assert that he was dissatisfied with the conduct of Wallace 
 on some particular occasion. Supposing this to be true, it 
 is no justification why he should deceive his early friend; 
 for, according to Barbour, Sir John was one of Wallace's 
 earliest friends. For my own part, I am ready to believe 
 that it is only a glaring proof of the deceitfulness of the 
 human heart, prompted by English gold, which had un- 
 fortunately found its w^ay to the shores of the Lake of 
 Monteith. The attempt of Sir John to betray Bruce in 
 Dumbarton Castle is another proof that the man was a 
 base -hearted villain. There is an attempt made by one 
 historian to whitewash Sir John of the crime of betraying 
 Wallace. It is, however, but a miserable " daub," and not 
 borne out by a single writer except himself; and alluding 
 to the betrayal, other writers declare that he was justly and 
 deservedly hated by the Scotch nation. The manner of 
 the betrayal is well known; how, when they met at Rob- 
 royston, the two chiefs recognised each other as old fami- 
 liar friends; and how Menteith had previously arranged 
 with Edward's spies about the turning of the '' loaf" when 
 the favourable moment arrived for falling on and securing 
 the chief of Scottish patriots. It was for a very long time 
 
30 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 asserted, that the deepest insult one could give to an indi- 
 vidual of the name of Menteith was the turning of the loaf 
 in his presence, thus calling to mind that they were the 
 descendants of the infamous Sir John. I have known, 
 even in my own day, a fiery Menteith take signal ven- 
 geance on a fellow-mortal who had the audacity to '' whum- 
 mel the bannock" in his presence. 
 
 The tradition regarding the attempt of Menteith to be- 
 tray Bruce is not generally known. The story, however, 
 varies a good deal, and is told in different forms; but as 
 Buchanan alludes to it, and as his version will no doubt 
 be the most correct, I have followed that historian pretty 
 closely. When the rest of the fortified places were reduced, 
 Dumbarton Castle was held almost alone by the English ; 
 and because it was by nature very strong, Bruce entered 
 into negotiation with Menteith, who had received the go- 
 vernorship as the price of Wallace, through his friends 
 and relations, for its recovery. As the price of the sur- 
 render, Menteith had the ^' cheek" to demand the Earldom 
 of Lennox, and would listen to no other proposal. Bruce 
 would listen to no such condition, although he greatly de- 
 sired the Castle — Lennox being his firmest and almost only 
 friend in all his misfortunes. The Earl himself, as soon 
 as he heard this, insisted that the King should not refuse 
 the condition. The agreement was therefore completed on 
 Menteith's own terms, and the King went to receive pos- 
 session of the Castle. On his journey, he was met in the 
 wood near Dumbarton by a joiner, said to be named Rol- 
 land, who, having obtained an audience of the King on a 
 matter of great importance, discovered to him a plot, pro- 
 
Sir John Menteith. 3 1 
 
 jected and prepared by Menteith against him. In an 
 underground cellar a considerable number of Englishmen 
 were hid, who, when the rest of the Castle was given up, 
 and the King seated at dinner, were to rush forth and 
 either kill or take him prisoner. After Bruce had received 
 the Castle from Menteith, he was invited to an entertain- 
 ment. The King, however, refused to partake until he had 
 searched the concealed cellars. Menteith pretended that 
 the smith who had the key was absent and would soon 
 return, but the door was broken open and the snare 
 discovered. The armed English were instantly put to 
 death; some having confessed that a war-ship was riding 
 in the bay, ready to convey the King to England. Sir 
 John's life was spared, on condition that he should be put 
 in the very front of the battle at Bannockburn, and take 
 "pot luck." There, it is said, he served his King faith- 
 fully. I have not been able to trace where Sir John died, 
 or where he was buried, though tradition asserts he died in 
 his castle on Loch Rusky, and was interred in the choir of 
 the church of Inchmahome. 
 
32 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 TRADITION REGARDING THE DECLINE OF 
 THE EARLDOM. 
 
 Connected with the Earldom were some of the bravest 
 warriors and most accompHshed statesmen of the ages in 
 which it flourished; and at Court the holders of the title 
 took precedence over most other sister titles, while many of 
 the Earls enjoyed, in a remarkable degree, the confidence of 
 their Sovereign. But ^^ every dog has its day;" and although 
 we can trace the history of those feudal lords over a period 
 of five hundred years, and that during a time when Scot- 
 land was boiling with internal divisions, yet the day arrived 
 when the Earldom passed away and was known no more. 
 Among the first Earls of note was Murdacus, who held 
 the title about the year 1260. He had two daughters; the 
 eldest was married to Cumin, Lord of Badenoch, who suc- 
 ceeded to the Earldom by right of his wife. Cumin was 
 succeeded in the Earldom by Walter Stewart, brother of 
 the High Steward of Scotland, who was married to the 
 youngest daughter. Walter had two sons, Murdoch, his 
 successor, and John Menteith of Rusky. Murdoch the 
 Earl had one son, Allan, who married the heiress of Mac- 
 duff, Earl of Fife. Allan had one daughter, married to 
 Patrick Graham of Kilbride, second son of Patrick Graham 
 of Kincardine. This Patrick Graham was the founder of 
 the Earls of Menteith of the name of Graham, and whose 
 posterity were Earls thereof for nine successive generations. 
 
Decline of the Earhiom. 33 
 
 The Earldom became extinct in the year 1694. The last 
 Earl, William, dying without issue, bequeathed his estates 
 to the family of Montrose. The first cadet of the Menteith 
 family was Sir John Graham of Kilbride, ancestor of the 
 Grahams of Gartmore; and the last of any note was the 
 ancestor of the Grahams of Gartur. 
 
 Local tradition assigns the decline of the Earldom to the 
 cruelty of its last possessor, and among current stories the 
 undernoted is believed to be the most authentic, while 
 it illustrates, in a remarkable degree, the character of the 
 times. A man of the name of Graham having stolen a 
 horse in the neighbourhood, exposed the animal for sale at 
 St. Michael's fair, then held on Miling farm, on the shores 
 of the lake. Some of Graham's friends being present at the 
 fair, told him the owner of the horse was on his track, and 
 advised the thief instantly to leave the market. Graham, 
 acting on the advice, asked a young lad of the name of 
 Blair, who was standing by, to hold his horse till he trans- 
 acted some trivial business, and immediately took to the 
 hills. Meantime the owner of the horse arrived, and find- 
 ing the unsuspecting Blair in possession, had him handed 
 over to the tender mercies of the Earl, who was present at 
 the fair; and in those "good old times" the Earl, who had 
 the power of life and death in his own hands, the execu- 
 tioners in his own household, and the gallows on his own 
 domains, ordered the lad to be instantly hanged. The 
 Blairs at this time were a numerous party^ both in Monteith 
 and Aberfoyle, and many of the lad's friends being present 
 at the fair, they made a strong remonstrance, but in vain. 
 The sentence was instantly carried into effect on the Gal- 
 
3 4 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 lows hill, a small eminence on the farm of Miling. The 
 Blairs were so enraged that they mustered in strong force, 
 and tore down the gallows, declaring that it should never 
 '' hing" another man in Monteith; while an old woman 
 prophesied the downfal of the Earldom. She is said to 
 have told the Earl to his face that he would be the last of 
 his race, and that no other Graham should ever enjoy the 
 title; that his estate would pass away to the stranger; that 
 briars and thistles would grow rank in his rooms — the otter 
 make his home in the broken walls — and the jackdaw and 
 the owl build their nests amid the ruins. What effect this 
 imprecation had on the decline of the Earldom, I leave the 
 reader to judge; but the writer has had proof enough that 
 the latter part of it has been fulfilled with a vengeance. 
 Briars and thistles certainly grow rank around the crumb- 
 ling walls, and the otter roams free amid their dark recesses; 
 while the jackdaw^ and the owl flap their wings at pleasure 
 in the once lordly halls of Talla. 
 
Traditional Battles. 35 
 
 TRADITIONAL BATTLES. 
 
 It was morning, and the eastern sun had thrown his first 
 golden rays over the scattered crags of the heath-clad hills 
 of Monteith, whose shaggy sides sent their dark shadows 
 deep into the lake, whose waters reflected back the glories 
 of the blue-vaulted heaven. All was peace in the walls of 
 Talla. Zephyrs played around its shores, and the finny 
 tribe sported on the surface of the peaceful waters; the fox 
 sought the thick copse of Glenny, and the ospray floated 
 over the lake. There was no sound to disturb the lonely 
 sentinel, save the quack of the wild drake, or the plunge of 
 the otter, as it dashed through the blue water after its 
 finny prey. Suddenly, dashing through the copsewood, 
 there appeared on the distant shore the picturesque form 
 of a Highlander. Sword in hand, and dressed only in his 
 kilt, the youth, without waiting for a boat, plunged amid 
 the silvery breakers, and was soon within the tower of 
 Talla, telling his chief that the Murrays of Atholl were 
 plundering the glen. Instantly the war-cry sped along the 
 valley, and soon 
 
 The fiery cross proclaimed, 
 
 And bugle sounded far — 
 Rise up, ye kindred of the Graeme ! 
 
 Follow thy chief to war. 
 
 Soon the whole followers of the Graeme in the vale of 
 Monteith were assembled to repel the northern invader, 
 
36 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 headed by a younger son of the Earl, who addressed them 
 thus: — 
 
 " Men of Monteith! yonder's the foemen! 
 Bare your claymore and follow the bowmen. 
 See yonder dark host up by yon rlU — 
 The Murray s of AthoU who cover the hill! 
 They've come from the north to feed on thy spoil, 
 And see how proudly they tread on thy soil. 
 But now you will meet them, and drive them afar — 
 For the kindred of Graeme are gallant in war; 
 The life of Blair- Atholl ye'll spill like a flood, 
 • Till the eagles of Glenny be drunk on the blood. 
 
 On to the fray! and stay only when 
 The corpses of Atholl lie thick in the glen; 
 For the Graeme he will conquer or die on the heath, 
 That glory may dwell on the Lake of Monteith!" 
 
 So saying, onward rushed the eager youth up the tangled 
 slopes of his native Mondhuie, and over the rocks that had 
 oft rung with his hunting horn, and re-echoed back the war- 
 cry of his fathers. Graeme was surrounded by his hardy 
 clansmen, all eager to meet the '' men of the north," who 
 were hurrying down the hill-side, 
 
 '' Plaided and plumed in their tartan array." 
 
 As soon as the Murrays saw the approaching Grahams, it 
 is said they looked upon them with a sort of disdain, as 
 birds of inferior plumage — as the eagle looks down upon 
 the tenants of nether air, — and their chief exclaimed, 
 " Take the eagle's feathers off your arrows and put on 
 the goose's feathers; that's good enough for the Monteith 
 fellows." Ha! ha!— 
 
 " Proud bird of the mountain! thy plume shall be torn." 
 
 A very severe hand-to-hand contest ensued, and many 
 fell on both sides. The Grahams, led by their young 
 chief, were pursuing their enemies over the hill, when a 
 
Traditional Battles. 37 
 
 wounded Atholl man, standing behind a tree, saw the 
 leader of the Grahams approach the spot where he was 
 concealed, drew his dagger, and, as Graeme was hurrying 
 past, plunged it into his side. The Grahams were so 
 exasperated at this act, that the perpetrator was instantly- 
 despatched, and his friends driven off with great loss. The 
 Grahams had their wounded chief carried from the hill, 
 and Talla opened her halls to receive her bleeding lord. 
 With his last breath he sung — 
 
 " The blood of the slain is tinging yon rill, 
 For the dead thick are lying ; 
 But in peace I am dying, 
 For the Murrays are flying 
 Far over the hill." 
 
 There is another version of this battle, as follows: — 
 The chief of the Atholl men, being on friendly terms with 
 the Earl, called at the island to pay him a friendly visit. 
 Unfortunately, however, the Earl chanced to be out hunt- 
 ing, and the Atholl men finding the boats on the north side 
 of the lake, a number of the party sailed over to the island, 
 where they found a well-cooked dinner, consisting of a 
 large number of finely dressed fowls, &c., all laid out, wait- 
 ing the Earl's return. The Murrays swept the hall of every- 
 thing eatable, and took their departure. The Earl soon 
 returned, and found that his roasted fowls had taken wing, 
 with the exception of an old cock, which had "craw'd" the 
 clan to arms for ten years; and, on being told by the cook 
 what had taken place, he instantly ordered his retainers to 
 pursue the fugitives, and led the pursuit in person. Coming 
 up with the Atholl men on the hill of Mondhuie, he was 
 about to fall on them and revenge the insult, when the 
 
38 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 leader of the pursued turned round, and, presenting his 
 arrow, cried, in a friendly tone, " Over me and over you !" 
 — meaning, that each should shoot his arrow over his oppo- 
 nent's head, and thus end the matter without loss of life. 
 *'Na, na," exclaimed the insulted chief, " in me and in you." 
 "In you be it then!" thundered Murray; and, instantly 
 raising his arrow, shot the Earl through the heart. 
 
 This fray gained for this branch of the Grahams the 
 appellation of the "Hen Grahams." A member of this 
 branch quarrelled with a M'Gregor on the hill overlook- 
 ing the lake. M'Gregor being angry, was about to call out 
 "Hen Graham!" perceiving his intention, Graham instantly 
 drew his sword and severed his head from his body. It is 
 said that the head rolled to the foot of the hill calling out 
 "Hen Graham, hen Graham!" 
 
 Another battle was fought on the shores of the Lake of 
 Monteith, in the year 1653, between the Highlanders on 
 one side, and a detachment of Cromwell's army on the 
 other. The Highlanders consisted of men of the following 
 clans, viz., Grahams, M'Gregors, M'iN^aughtons, and a 
 number of horsemen under Lord Kenmure, all stationed at 
 Duchray Castle, and under the command of Graham, Laird 
 of Duchray, and the Earl of Glencairn, numbering in all 
 about three hundred. 
 
 Colonel Kidd, then governor of Stirling Castle, being 
 apprised of the meeting of the Royalists in Aberfoyle, 
 marched at the head of a regiment of foot and a troop of 
 horse, with a view to crush Duchray and his hardy little 
 band, and, if possible, annihilate the enterprise. Graham 
 of Glenny, hearing of the advance of Kidd, hastily collected 
 
Traditiofial Battles. 39 
 
 his men, and hid them in ambush in the pass on the front 
 of the hill overlooking the lake. Graham, having but a 
 mere handful of men, was unable to take the advantage his 
 position offered, but kept up a galling fire on the enemy. 
 Among the Grahams was a young man, of the name of 
 McQueen, who was very conspicuous in emptying Kidd's 
 saddles. Kidd, annoyed at the loss of his men, ordered his 
 horsemen to dislodge the enemy. The horsemen instantly 
 charged up the hill, and one of them singling out M'Queen, 
 cut him down. The spot where he fell is still pointed out, 
 and bears the name of '* M'Queen's Pass." One of Kidd's 
 horsemen singling out a Graham, galloped after him right 
 up the steep pass and over the hill. Graham, running for 
 his life, fled towards Portend Glen, a wild and rugged glen 
 on the shores of the lake. As he approached the brink of 
 the precipice, and the horseman was about to cut him down, 
 Graham suddenly darted to one side, and in a moment 
 afterwards the horse and his rider went thundering over the 
 rocks. This part of the glen is still pointed out to tourists 
 as " the Horseman's Rock." Glenny, on the first approach 
 of Kidd, had sent notice to Duchray of the intended attack, 
 and to prepare him for the enemy. Duchray, on learning 
 this, instantly marched to meet him, and took up a strong 
 position near the foot of Loch Ard, hiding his foot on the 
 rising ground on each side of the road, and posting his horse 
 in the centre. Presently Kidd arrived, and the unwary 
 commander walked deliberately into the lion's embraces. 
 At the word of command, the Highlanders sprang from their 
 native heather, 
 
 " As if the yawning earth had given 
 A subterranean host to heaven;" 
 
40 Tlie Lake of Monteith. 
 
 and, sweeping from the hill-sides like a mighty avalanche, 
 overwhelmed his flanks, while the horsemen charging in 
 front, threw the whole of the enemy into such wild confusion 
 that it was impossible to rally them, and, fleeing in disorder, 
 they became an easy prey to the broadswords of the High- 
 landmen. One of Kidd's officers was shot by a private 
 gentleman from the window of his house, which then stood 
 near the foot of Loch Ard, and his body was interred in a 
 little knoll, which still bears the name of "Badden Cass- 
 nock," or ^'The Englishman's Thicket." 
 
 Regarding the early dilapidation of the Priory, I have 
 been unable to gather the smallest information either from 
 history or tradition. There is no doubt, however, that the 
 Priory would share the fate of all other religious houses of 
 the game kind at the period. We are told by Spottiswood 
 *' that no difference was made, but all the churches were 
 either defaced or pulled down, and that the very sepulchres 
 of the dead were not spared." The mischievous inclinations 
 of the inhabitants, however, and the plundering raids of 
 the modern natives, have done more towards the destruc- 
 tion of the sacred edifice than the excited multitude of 
 John Knox, or the roar of Cromwell's cannon. 
 
 The Priory of Inchmahome had four dependent chapels 
 attached to it. One of these stood at the east side of the 
 lake, on what is now part of the farm of Inchie, and a 
 little to the north of where the Water of Goodie flows out 
 of the lake. There is no part of the ruins visible, but a 
 small point jutting out into the lake is still pointed out 
 as the burying-ground attached to this religious house. 
 Another was at Arnchly, that is "The Field of the Bury- 
 
Betty's Field, 41 
 
 ing-ground," situated about a mile to the west of the lake. 
 The ruins of the chapel and part of the burying-ground are 
 still visible. Another was at the " Chapelaroch," that is, 
 " The Foundation of the Chapel," about a mile below the 
 village of Gartmore, and situated on the banks of the water 
 of Kelty. The other was at Balquhapple, near Drymen. 
 All these places, with the exception of Arnchly, still retain 
 the name of Chapel. 
 
 There is a curious prophecy connected with a stone situ- 
 ated near the ruins of the chapel of Arnchly, and which is 
 worth recording. From time immemorial this stone went 
 under the name of the " Peace Stone," and it was held in 
 great reverence by the natives. One Pharic M'Pharic, a 
 noted Gaelic prophet, foretold that, in the course of time, 
 this stone would be buried underground by two brothers, 
 who, for their indiscretion, were to die childless. By- 
 and-by the stone would rise to the surface, and by the 
 time it was fairly above ground, a battle was to be fought 
 on ^^Auchveity," that is, ''Betty's Field." The batde was 
 to be long and fierce, until " Gramoch-Cam" of Glenny, 
 that is, "Graham of the one eye," would sweep from the 
 "Bay-wood" with his clan and decide the contest. After 
 the battle, a large raven was to alight on the stone and 
 drink the blood of the fallen. So much for the prophecy 
 then; now for the fulfilment. About fifty years ago, two 
 brothers (tenants of the farm of Arnchly), finding that the 
 stone interfered with their agricultural labours, made a large 
 trench, and had it put several feet below the surface. Very 
 singular, indeed, both these men, although married, died 
 without leaving any issue. With the labouring of the field 
 
 D 
 
4 2 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 for a number of years, the stone has actually made its 
 appearance above ground, and there is at present living a 
 descendant of the Grahams of Glenny who is blind of one 
 eye, and the ravens are daily hovering over the devoted 
 field. Tremble, ye natives ! and rivals of the " Hero 
 Grahams," keep an eye on Gramoch-Cam! 
 
 There is another very interesting tradition regarding 
 "Betty's Field." I leave the reader, however, to take it 
 for what it may be worth. In early times when Inchma- 
 home was a royal residence, the country to the west of the 
 lake was a royal forest, and the stag, the wolf, and the 
 wild boar found a safe retreat amid its dark solitudes, when 
 the glens rang with the hunter's horn, and re-echoed back 
 the cry of royal sportsmen. One morning the retainers of 
 the King were summoned to join the royal chase, and to 
 follow the train of his son, to hunt the stag. On the 
 border of the forest a stag was sighted, but instead of 
 keeping on the high ground, it broke off towards the 
 marsh, and was instantly followed by the Prince, v/ho, 
 heedless of the danger, kept thundering on till he reached 
 the banks of a small but beautiful loch in the vicinity of 
 Arnchly. Here his horse got "bogged," and the royal 
 rider was in imminent peril of his life. A young "Hielan' 
 lassie," however, chanced to be attending her cattle at the 
 Sheals of Gartrench, a locality close by, and seeing the 
 danger of her royal master, with great presence of mind 
 rushed to his aid, and bore him off in her arms to a place 
 of safety. For her " distinguished services," the Prince 
 w^as glad enough to be able to grant her for life the portion 
 of land still called, and no doubt after her own name, 
 
Bdiy's Field. 43 
 
 '' Betty's Field." The little sequestered loch, on whose 
 banks the incident occurred, is still called " Loch Mackin- 
 veigh," that is, " The Loch of the King's son," which gives 
 a colouring of truthfulness to the story. It is said that it 
 was in this royal forest the last wolf seen in Scotland was 
 killed, and that at a place called the " Claggans," on the 
 farm of Miling. It is also said that the same wolf attacked 
 a girl near the village of Gartmore, a short time previous 
 to its death at Miling. The girl was carrying meat to the 
 harvest people, when the animal rushed out of the '■'' Fir 
 hill." Being afraid, the girl threw the "' beef and tatties" 
 on the ground and fled. The wolf was content with the 
 dinner, and thus the girl escaped. 
 
44 The Lake of Monteith, 
 
 THE EARL'S NIECE. 
 
 '^ There's a ball in Talla to-night," said a Highland 
 native to his companion, as they passed along the lone 
 Highland highway that winds its serpentine form along 
 the north shore of the Lake of Monteith, one clear moon- 
 light night about the fall of the year. " Ay," returned the 
 other, '^ I hear the music; and see how the lights flash in 
 the windows!" They were right; there was a gathering of 
 the chiefs within the lordly halls of Talla. The Chief of 
 Buchan was there; Lord Rusky mingled with the guests; 
 and Gartmore Barons strode through the hall; while the 
 young Graham of Gloschoil, the Earl's kinsman, sat chat- 
 ting with the Countess. The Earl was proud of his name, 
 proud of his title, and jealous of his fame; his heart was 
 the warm heart of the Highlander; his nature the fiery dash 
 of the Celt — the first to resent an insult — the first to for- 
 give an injury. When a friend or foe chanced to be injured^ 
 it grieved him at his heart, and could never be forgotten. 
 The field was his delight. The halls of his fathers were 
 hung with trophies of the chase. There were antlered heads 
 from the forest of Miling, the wolf from Craigvad, and the 
 wild boar from his den in the Pass; the eagle from. Glenny, 
 and the osprey from Arnmauch; the wild fox and badger 
 from the hill, and the otter from the lake. There, too, 
 
The EarVs Niece. -45 
 
 dangled in gloomy array the glories of the war chief, 
 wrecks of die batde-field, gathered by a long list of il- 
 lustrious ancestors, each proud of his achievements, and 
 whose trophies hung as heirlooms in the family. Largs 
 sent its shattered helmets — Falkirk its broken shields. 
 There were gory lances from Stirling Bridge, and blood- 
 stained swords from Bannockburn — all telling their own 
 tale of rivalry and death. The Earl's heart beat high as 
 he showed his guests the trophies; and as his dark eye 
 rolled from object to object, one would think he felt proud 
 of his descent from the great Dundaff. The ladies played, 
 and the Countess sang, while the chiefs drank their wine ; 
 and so the night whiled merrily away. While the nobles 
 laughed and talked, and the rooms rang with the music 
 of the ladies, down in the servants' hall sat a jovial crew. 
 These were the servants of " my lords." Conspicuous in 
 the group was a short and thick well-made form, with 
 long grey hair, dark rolling eye, and countenance brown 
 as the heath on his native moor. That was " Stoat-the- 
 Vrouach," which means, in readable language, " The 
 Stumpy for the brae," the Earl's archer. Behind him, on 
 the wall, dangled a huge cross-bow and bunch of arrows, 
 with which, in their turn, he had brought down the 
 " enemies of the king " in many a battle-field, the wolf 
 and the stag in the forest, the eagle and ptarmigan on the 
 mountain, and the sea-gull on the lake. In his hand was 
 a long sharp-pointed " sgian-dubh;" the cherished gift of 
 his father, the plaything of his early youth, and the trusty 
 companion of his manhood and riper years. The ''Stoat" 
 was a valued serv^ant of the Earl, both on account of his 
 
46 The Lake of Moiiteith, 
 
 deeds in the " sgian-dubh" line, and his length of service. 
 He was long archer to the Earl, and the Earl's son at Doun- 
 ance. It was at the latter place he performed some of his 
 most distinguished services, and on one occasion, at least, 
 saved his master and family from destruction by the MTher- 
 son. In early times, it is said, one Norman MTherson 
 was laird of Drunkie and Duchray, and was rather a power- 
 ful rival to the Menteith family. By-and-by, however, 
 MTherson fell into debt, when he applied to the Earl's son, 
 at Dounance, to grant hrni money on his property. Graham 
 thinking this a good chance of getting MTherson into his 
 grasp, instantly gave him all he asked, under the condition 
 that, if the money was not paid off by a certain date, the 
 land should revert to Dounance. MTherson failed to fulfil 
 the conditions, and Graham took hold of Duchray. MTher- 
 son, driven to despair, retired back on Drunkie, where he 
 brooded over his revenge, and " nursed his wrath to keep 
 it warm." After a while, MTherson resolved to attack 
 Dounance, murder the family, and retake Duchray. With 
 this purpose he left Drunkie with a number of his men, 
 took Stoat-the-Vrouach prisoner in his own house near 
 the lake, and ordered the archer to lead the way, at the 
 same time offering him a large sum to betray Graham into 
 his hands. The night being dark was well fitted for such 
 bloody work, and on their arrival all was still within the 
 castle. " Stand here," muttered the Stoat, " my Lord has 
 a secret knock which no one knows but myself; I will leave 
 the door open, and you will rush in at my heels." The 
 archer stepped forward and gave the secret knock. ^' What 
 brings the Stoat here at this time of the night?" asked a 
 
The EarVs Niece. 47 
 
 voice from within. ^*Open: the M'Phersons are at my 
 back; they have come to be revenged for Duchray; make 
 haste, for God's sake ! or we are all lost," whispered the 
 archer earnestly. Graham sprung from his couch, the 
 massive door reeled back on its hinges, and another 
 moment saw the Stoat safe within the castle portals. The 
 Grahams were instantly armed, and rushing out upon 
 their foes, made short work of the MThersons, who, it is 
 said, were all killed. Norman was pursued by the re- 
 nowned archer into a cave near to Drunkie House, and 
 there slain, the place being still called " Norman's Wood.'* 
 The Stoat was delighting his cronies with stories like these, 
 telling them scenes of other days and tales of bygone years; 
 and if the black sgian-dubh he held in his hand could but 
 have whispered, it would have told a tale of its own. 
 
 The archer had just finished MTherson afresh, when the 
 noise announced the parting of the chiefs, and each valet 
 hastened to the service of his lord; while the Earl's boat- 
 men feathered their oars, ready to row their noble freights 
 over the still waters. There were laughing faces there, and 
 the gentle zephyrs wafted around the fairy island the happy 
 parting, while the echoes whispered back the farewells. 
 The night was calm and clear, as if Nature smiled on the 
 happy gathering. The moon — " pale mistress of the night" 
 — rose as only autumn moons can rise, while the still 
 waters reflected back the glories of a star-pearl'd heaven. 
 The mist crawled along the Braes of Auchyle, and Red- 
 nock Hills looked through the grey covering. The lake 
 was quiet as a "mill-pond" — only the zephyrs kissed its 
 waters — no ripple on its bosom save that in the trail of 
 
48 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 the scallop; but ever and anon was heard the quack of the 
 wild drake, startled by the splash of the oar; while far in 
 the still midnight came the moan of the owl, and 
 
 " The (lookers dived beneath the stream, 
 And wondered what the thing could mean." 
 
 The otter prowled along the shore; the bark of the 
 fox was heard far off among the dark recesses of Arn- 
 mauch; the wild swan spread her wings to catch the float- 
 ing zephyrs; and the cormorant nestled among the reeds. 
 When in wine the Earl was fiery and vain — fiery to those 
 who dared to ruffle his temper, and vain enough to fancy 
 himself the finest specimen of a ip.an within the Earldom. 
 As he sat on his couch with the fair young Countess by 
 his side, chatting over the happy gathering, he suddenly 
 exclaimed, ^' Vv^ho do you think was the best-looking man 
 at the balir The Countess looked surprised, and smiling, 
 replied, "What makes the Earl ask such a question?" 
 *^ Oh, only for your opinion," replied the Earl dryly. The 
 Countess sat closer to the chief, and laying her lily hand 
 on the shoulder of her haughty lord, whispered into his 
 ear, '^ Who but your own kinsman and tenant, Malise 
 Graham!" and starting from his side, the fair lady glided 
 away to her bedroom. For a time the Earl sat in wild 
 bewilderment, his passion inflamed with wine, and his 
 brain reeling with the debauch; his brow scowled like the 
 thunder-cloud, and his eyes stared like fixed stars. " Malise 
 Graham," he muttered to himself; and his recollection of 
 seeing him at several stages of the evening paying close 
 attention to the Countess, shot through his memory with 
 meteoric flash. 
 
The Earl's Niece, 4 9 
 
 '^ Villain!" exclaimed the Earl, ''he'll rue those deeds. 
 I'll have his blood before to-morrow's smi rises!" and, 
 clutching his dagger, the jealous lord staggered from his 
 couch breathing curses on his unhappy friend. "Bring me 
 Stoat-the-Vrouach," growled the enraged chief, in tones that 
 rang through every corner of the island; and the only one 
 of the castle who heard not the stern order was the fair 
 Countess, who, close in her bedroom and earnest at her de- 
 votions, was all unconscious of the terrible scene about to 
 be enacted, and of which she was the unhappy cause. The 
 faithful archer rushed to the presence of his enraged master. 
 "Go," cried the Earl; " Gloschoil has dared to insult his 
 chief, and this night I have sworn to have his blood; take 
 your men and let him not escape." The old servant looked 
 surprised, and whispered "What means my lord by this? 
 Has the Earl forgotten that his friend is a faithful and true 
 vassal f "That's for me to judge," cried the Earl fiercely; 
 '' do my bidding, and mutter but a rebellious sentence and 
 to-morrow thy carcase shall hang on Miling." With a heavy 
 heart the archer obeyed; and while, with crossbow slung 
 on his shoulder and sword unsheathed, he departed on his 
 mission of death, the half unconscious Earl slunk away to 
 his bedroom. Malise Graham was slowly plodding his 
 homeward path, Avith neither friend nor guide — he needed 
 none — these hills were the hills of his youth — these his 
 native glens. A thousand times his youthful limbs had trod 
 the breckan brae, Avhen the rocks rang with his boyish voice. 
 Upon yon hill's craggy face he had stalked the red-deer 
 and brought down the eagle; deep in that misty glen he 
 had sought out the wolf, and hunted the wild boar; away 
 
5© The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 on the skirts of yonder valley, he had met invading clans, 
 when the clash of shields and the clang of claymores rang 
 wildly around him. Malise's heart was light, he reflected 
 on the happy hours spent with his chief, and the thoughts 
 of his young wife and two prattling boys, that awaited his 
 coming, cheered him on ; and as he turned down into his 
 own native strath, there, sure enough, was the light in the 
 window, the traveller's home star. Already he heard the 
 stifled bark of his favourite hound in the kennel at home; 
 that home, alas! he was never to reach. He dreamed not 
 the toils of the assassin, like the serpent's embrace, were 
 drawing closer and closer around him — the Earl's death 
 hounds treading at his heels, — only watching the proper 
 moment for striking the fatal blow. It soon arrived; and 
 as Stoat-the-Vrouach raised aloft his arm, the moon buried 
 her face in a cloud, as if Heaven frowned on the deed; 
 one moment's stillness, and a wild yell burst among the shat- 
 tered hills and awoke the slumbering echoes of Auchray.* 
 " What is that, mother?" cried a half-sleeping boy, start- 
 ing from his pillow, aroused by the dying cry of his father, 
 as it echoed wildly across Loch-Katrine, and rang among 
 the scattered buildings of Gloschoil. " That is father's voice 
 — something has befallen him." " Hush, boy," replied the 
 wakeful mother. " Nothing can befall thy father; the night 
 is clear and the lamp still burns in the window; 'twas the 
 growl of the watch-dog, or the cry of the eagle on the hill. 
 Your father is well acquainted with the track over the hills; 
 the Kittearns know him well; the Macgregors are friendly 
 
 * A low green mound among the hills, between the Lake of Monteith and Loch 
 Auchray, is still known as ** Malise Graham's cairn," marking the spot where he fell. 
 
The EiirVs Niea. 51 
 
 to the Graham; and the M'Farlanes are thy mother's kins- 
 men; — there is nothing to fear, and, besides, 
 
 '* * Your father has his favourite sword, 
 Made by that man of fame,* 
 And woe betide the single arm 
 That dares to meet the Graham.' " 
 
 And again the boy nestled himself to sleep. 'Twas grey 
 dawn ere the wife of Malise Graham again looked out of 
 the window. All was still in the Highland glen; here and 
 there the curling smoke ascended from the cottars' homes ; 
 the moor-cock was heard on the hill ; and the September 
 hoarfrost lay thick and grey around the shores of Loch- 
 Katrine, nipping the already fading glories of summer. 
 The fair lady looked anxious, and whispered to herself, 
 *'My lord is long in coming!" Then, turning her eyes 
 towards the **Path of the red post," she saw a number of 
 men slowly approaching, carrying in their midst an un- 
 couth looking object. A thrill of fear shot through her 
 nerves. The anxious wife watched with eager eye, and as 
 they drew near, she rushed to meet the mournful cavalcade; 
 and there, sure enough, w^as Malise Graham, stark and cold, 
 wdth the crimson tide oozing from his manly heart. For a 
 moment the Highland lady surveyed her murdered lord; her 
 cheek grew pale; her frame shook like a shattered reed; and 
 with hysteric groan she fell back among her native heather. 
 And now 
 
 " On Katrine's coast, the widowed dame 
 May wash the rocks with tears." 
 * There is a well-known local tradition that the celebrated sword-maker, Andrew 
 Ferrara, had an establishment, for the making of swords, at what was once known 
 as the old Mill of Auchray, long ago a ruin. This may account in some degree for 
 the number of distinguished swordsmen bred in that district; and we can fancy, in 
 that dark age, when every glen swarmed with lawless lords, the renowned sword- 
 maker driving a roaring trade. 
 
5 2 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 On returning to consciousness, the widow's first resolve 
 was revenge; and she determined on rousing her kinsmen, 
 and bringing down on the Earl the vengeance of 
 
 " The wild M'Farlane's plaided clan." 
 
 But being told of the utter hopelessness of the task, and 
 that there yet remained a cloud of mystery to be cleared 
 away, she abandoned the project. 
 
 While this sad scene was being enacted on the heathy 
 shores of Loch- Katrine, another, but of a less terrible 
 description, was going on at the Lake of Monteith. The 
 Earl awoke, as only those who awaken after a debauch can 
 describe. The events of the previous night shot like wild 
 dreams through his brain, and a lingering remembrance of 
 his stern order to the archer floated before his distorted 
 imagination. As he sat looking up to the hill, v/ith the 
 lake calm around him, the door of his room suddenly flew 
 open, and in rushed "The Earl's Niece," the orphaned 
 daughter of the house of Dounance, but not the merry wee 
 thing of former mornings. True, the same blue eyes and 
 rosy cheeks were there, and the flaxen hair hung in its 
 usual silken curls around her neck; but there was a still- 
 ness in her eye, and a sadness in her young face, which the 
 Earl could not mistake. The niece was followed by the 
 Countess, also looking sadder than usual. And the Earl, 
 whose mind was haunted by the previous night's events, was 
 trying to banish them as airy phantoms, when he began to 
 see that they were stern realities. In a fit of excitement, he 
 started to his feet, exclaiming, ^'Is Malise Graham then 
 dead?" "Yes," whispered the Countess; "and the sword of 
 
TJie EarVs Niece. 53 
 
 the archer is gory with his blood." The Earl looked pale; 
 a scalding tear filled his eye; and he paced the room 
 impatiendy. ^' What made Stoat-the-Vrouach obey such 
 foolish orders?" he asked. ^' The archer remonstrated, and 
 you threatened to hang him," replied the Countess. "Ay," 
 responded the Earl; " pity I did not; but what is done 
 cannot be undone. I will see to the widow," and he 
 threw himself back on his couch. The Earl was true to 
 his promise; he gifted the widow her lifetime of Gloschoil, 
 and otherwise saw to the well-being of the family, for it is 
 said he was deeply grieved for the loss of his friend. 
 Malise Graham had two sons, Malise the elder, and Robert 
 the younger. Malise was of a mild and gentle nature, and 
 inherited in a large degree the character of the Grahams. 
 Robert was a reckless spirit, in fact " a wild MTarlane," 
 and partook deeply of the spirit of the robber clan. All 
 the wild fancies of youth floated through his brain; the loch, 
 the glen, and the hill were his favourite delights; and he 
 loved to rob the eyrie, and possess himself of the young 
 eagle. He would climb the rocks where no human foot 
 had ever been but his own, and whose brown surface was 
 disturbed only by the claws of wild cats, the talons of eagles, 
 and by a thousand storms. The sea-gull's nests floating on 
 the bosom of the wide-spreading loch, or hidden among the 
 reeds of the deep mountain tarn, were alike insecure from 
 the agile form of Robert Graham. From a mere boy he 
 bore a mortal hatred towards the Earl; and to be revenged 
 for his father's death was his only and darling ambition. 
 During the long wintry nights, when the mother and her 
 two sons sat by the blazing peat fire in their lone High- 
 
54 The Lake of Mofiteith. 
 
 land home, Robert, laying his dark curly head in his 
 mother's lap, would lisp, '' When I grow big I will punish 
 the Earl for killing my father." A tear would dim the fond 
 mother's eye, and she would whisper, " Hush boy, the Earl 
 is kind; he will one day make you a man." 
 
 One day, during midsummer, some years after the death 
 of Malise Graham, the Earl's niece was sent by the Coun- 
 tess with presents to the widow of Gloschoil. After roaming 
 for some hours on the banks of Loch- Katrine, Robert was 
 sent by his mother to see the niece safe over the rugged 
 " pass of the red post." Robert felt proud of the honour, 
 for although he hated the Earl, there was something that 
 drew him towards the fair young lady he could not describe, 
 and with light hearts the youthful pair disappeared among 
 the heather. When Robert and his fair charge left Gloschoil 
 
 " Noontide was slumbering on the hill," 
 
 and the lambkins were sporting among the bracken knowes 
 with hearts as light as their own. They soon reached 
 Auchray, when the niece pulled the blue bell, and Robert 
 gathered the wild clover, to spread on his father's cairn, 
 while they added a stone each to the heap. Robert 
 gazed wistfully at the rude memento of his father's death, 
 a tear stood in his dark eye, and his heart was full to over- 
 ■flowing; for although Robert was a reckless youth, he had 
 a large and warm heart, and be he friend or foe, who 
 trusted in Robert Graham was never disappointed, for his 
 heart was as good as his nature was rash. The fair lady 
 saw the tear that dimmed her young friend's eye, and she 
 whispered, "- 'Twas a sad night that, Robert; but the Earl 
 repents it deeply." Robert was about to break out with 
 
The Ear/' s Niece. 55 
 
 threats against the Earl; that he would make him rue the 
 day he had done the deed; — but the thought of grieving 
 the niece prevented him, and he concealed the thoughts 
 in his bosom. Robert saw his fair charge over the hills; 
 not parting with her until he put her in sight of her own 
 fairy lake; when bidding her adieu, he turned his steps 
 homewards to Gloschoil. Years rolled on ; Robert grew to 
 man's estate, and the hatred towards the Earl grew with 
 his years. The canker-worm of revenge gnawed wildly at 
 his heart, and, in spite of a mother's warning and brother's 
 advice, the youth persisted in cherishing the idea of one 
 day revenging his father's blood. In furtherance of his 
 darling ambition, he enlisted the sympathies of a large 
 body of his mother's kinsmen, and other lawless robbers 
 that inhabited the wild shores of Loch-Katrine and Loch- 
 Lomond, Robert promising them large rewards. He soon 
 found himself at the head of a powerful body of banditti, 
 all as eager for the fray as himself, and as earnest to 
 share the spoil. The Earl being wealthy, and having a 
 large tract of rich country, the hardy half-starved moun- 
 taineers looked forward to rich rewards. One day, about 
 twenty years after the death of Malise Graham, the Earl 
 had just returned from fishing on the lake, when his eyes 
 caught the sight of a boat approaching the island from the 
 northern shore. Landing, the messenger handed him a 
 letter, and then retired as he came. The Earl tore it open. 
 It was short, but it could not be mistaken; it read thus, — 
 
 " To the Earl. 
 
 " I come to revenge my father's death. 
 
 Robert Graham." 
 
' 5 6 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 The old man looked bewildered; and gazed after the 
 messenger, but he had disappeared on the distant shore. 
 The Earl hastened into the hall, not knowing whither he 
 went. For a time he paced the room in a state of wild 
 agitation, as if fully realising the na^ture of his position; 
 but recollecting himself, he sank calmly back on his seat. 
 At that moment the niece chanced to enter the room, and 
 seeing the sad countenance of her friend and benefactor, 
 she playfully asked its cause. " Ah ! and well I might look 
 sad!" replied the Earl. ^'To-night, I am a dead man; and 
 God knows but you'll be houseless and homeless. Robert 
 Graham of Gloschoil has come to be revenged for his father's 
 death." ^'That cannot be," exclaimed the maid, and snatch- 
 ing the letter she rushed to the Countess with the fatal epistle. 
 There was no time to lose, the shades of evening were 
 gathering fast around the lake, and already the voice of the 
 foemen came from Crockmelly. The sound of the slogan 
 was distinctly heard, and the cry of '' Loch Sloy" echoed 
 wildly across Portend. ^'I'll tell you what to do," whispered 
 the Countess. ^' Go and meet Robert Graham unarmed; 
 take your niece along with you; offer her to him for wife; 
 and for dowry grant him a portion of land." The Earl, 
 acting on the advice of his wife, met his young and fierce 
 kinsman on the shore of the lake. The old chief first broke 
 silence. " Robert Graham ! " he exclaimed, "you have come 
 to be revenged for your father's death?" "Yes," answered 1 
 Robert. " I hope you will forego your intention," replied 
 the Earl. " Never," growled the youth. "I am getting 
 old now," continued the Earl ; " and I know you will not 
 shorten the waning life, nor make my wife a widow." "You 
 
The Earl^s Niece. 
 
 57 
 
 made my mother a widow, and me fatherless," cried the 
 passionate boy. " I did," repHed the Earlj "and it grieved 
 me to the heart. But I did what in me lay to make amends 
 for it, and I am ready to do more now. Only give up your 
 intention, become peaceful, and I will give you that young 
 lady for your wife, with land for her dowry." "What!" 
 exclaimed Robert, "I become your vassal] No, and I could 
 not protect you now though I were willing, — for 
 
 " Heard'st thou not that loud a-hoy? 
 And yonder distant cry * Loch Sloy'? 
 A hundred spearmen, like a tide 
 Come rushing down the deep lake side; 
 And loudly each for vengeance calls 
 To lordly homes and ruined walls." 
 
 As the youth finished the last sentence, the niece sprang 
 from the Earl's side, and throwing her arms around the neck 
 of Robert Graham, exclaimed, " Oh, for my sake, Robert, 
 save the Earl !" Her tears bathed his bosom, and her flaxen 
 hair hung in silken tresses on his breast. Robert started, 
 the appeal reached his heart, and the remembrance of the 
 time when she pulled the bluebell, while he gathered 
 the wild clover to spread on his father's cairn, shot with 
 meteoric flash through his memory. The young heroic soul 
 was moved, the naked sword was sheathed, and his men were 
 signalled back from the hill. A short time thereafter Robert 
 Graham became the husband of the Earl's niece, and re- 
 ceived as her dowry the lands of Bruchorn in Aberfoyle. 
 
 Robert Graham and the Earl's niece lie in the lone 
 island of Inchmahome — the green sod resting lightly on 
 their bosoms, while zephyrs play around their grave ; and 
 although the storms of a hundred years have rattled over 
 
 E 
 
5 8 Tlie Lake of Monteith, 
 
 them, their descendants still live, and many respectable 
 families in Monteith trace with pride their descent from 
 the Earl's niece. 
 
Talla, 
 
 59 
 
 TALLA. 
 
 The island of Talla is the second island in size on the 
 Lake of Monteith. It signifies "A hall," or " Great man's 
 house," but is more commonly known as " the Earl's isle." 
 This island contains the principal stronghold of the Earls 
 of Menteith, now in ruins. Being situated near the middle 
 of the lake, it must in early times have been able to set all 
 attacking forces at defiance. Kilbride Castle, near Dun- 
 blane, was, long ago, another of their seats. Robert 
 and Murdo, Dukes of Albany, were also Earls of Men- 
 teith, and had Doune, Falkland, and Tantallan Castles. 
 Airth Castle seems also to have belonged to the Menteith 
 family, who were Earls of Menteith and Airth. In Loch- 
 Ard, in Aberfoyle, there are two small islands; on the 
 larger, named ^'St. Malloch," there were formerly the 
 ruins of a small church or chapel; on the other, which 
 is much smaller, may be seen the remains of a strong 
 building, traditionally assigned to the ambitious-minded 
 Stewart, Duke of Albany. The latter is still known as 
 '' the Duke's island," its Gaelic name being " Dundochill." 
 There is a well-known tradition in the district that it was 
 from this island the Duke was taken on the night pre- 
 vious to his execution on the Castle-hill of Stirling; and 
 this tradition is strengthened by the fact that Graham of 
 
6o TJie Lake of Monteith. 
 
 Duchray refers to it, in his account of the parish of Aber- 
 foyle, written about 150 years ago, and still preserved in 
 the Advocates' Library. The castle of Talla, or at least a 
 considerable part of it, which appears to have been built 
 with part of the ruins of the church of Inchmahome, 
 was originally very strong, having covered the small island 
 on which it is built. The tower and highest portion of 
 the castle seem to have been chiefly composed of round 
 stones j and the remains of three storeys are still visible, 
 hanging their grey and shattered corners over the blue 
 waters which wash the foundation. The lower portion 
 was originally divided into three apartments. In the low 
 storey was "the hall," which measures 16 by 6 paces; 
 and from an inventory made in the year 1692, and 
 preserved among the " Menteith Papers" in Gartmore 
 House, it is said to have been furnished with a " pair of 
 virginals," as also with " my lord and ladye's portraits, and 
 hangings before them," and "ane house-knock, with the 
 caise thereof," &c. The fire-place still remains, and is 
 perfectly visible. At either end, and in upper storeys, 
 entered respectively by a door in the gable, and not 
 encroaching on the ground floor, was a room, each con- 
 taining a " standing bed and other corresponding furni- 
 ture." A small tower stands behind the hall, with which 
 it had a communication, and originally contained three 
 rooms, each in a storey by itself, the highest having been 
 reached by a winding stair at the south-west corner. 
 The middle room, according to the inventory, was " my 
 lady's chamber." The ground floor is called the '' laigh 
 back room." '' The brew-house chamber" was situated on 
 
Talla. 6 1 
 
 the east side of the island, and was " hung with green," be- 
 sides being furnished with two beds, " one of green stuff, 
 with rods and panels to conform; the other of red scarlet 
 cloth." On the west side of the island was the servants' 
 apartments, the kitchen, and oven. Speaking of the oldest 
 portion of the castle, McGregor Stirling says: — "Its heraldic 
 devices are partly abstracted, and no account can be given 
 of its foundation, nor indeed of that of any of the more 
 modern structures. From one of these devices, where the 
 crest represents, as is believed, an eagle caupe^ above a 
 shield, the crest of which is not legible, it would appear 
 the oldest building was erected after the introduction of 
 the first-mentioned emblems into armorial bearings." 
 
 A few hundred yards to the west of Talla, lies " the 
 Dog island." This small island is not many yards in 
 circumference, but appears to have been large enough to 
 be used in the Earl's time as a kennel. On the western 
 shore of the lake stood the Earl's stables, long ago razed 
 to the ground : the point of land on which they originally 
 stood is still called ^^ the stable ground." On the northern 
 shore of the lake, and around the beautiful hill of "Coldon" 
 or " Cowden," and on the farm of " Portend," were the 
 pleasure grounds of these noblemen. Here a considerable 
 number of large and beautiful trees still gracefully spread 
 their noble branches over the ancient walks of those feudal 
 lords. Within this pleasure park, and on what is known 
 as " the Friars' meadow," there is still to be seen a consider- 
 able mound, said to be consecrated earth brought over from 
 Ireland for holy purposes connected with the church of 
 Inchmahome. 
 
62 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 CHAPTER IN THE LIFE OF ROB ROY. 
 
 The morning had dawned on Aberfoyle early in July of 
 the year 17 lo; and the eastern sun had just burst forth in 
 all the glory of his summer splendour, throwing his golden 
 tints far among the magnificent hills of the country of the 
 Macgregor — when Rob Roy looked out of his cave in the 
 rock-built walls that skirt the western shores of the fairy 
 Loch-Ard. As he gazed over the deep waters of the High- 
 land loch, he laid his rough hand on his red beard and 
 shook the dew from his curly locks; he looked eastward 
 towards the red sun, and westward toward the grey cloud 
 that hung around the top of his native Ben-Lomond. There 
 was no stir in the Pass of Aberfoyle, save among the warb- 
 ling throng and beasts of prey. On the distant shore 
 trotted reynard; while the otter dashed through the blue 
 waters after its finny prey; behind him prowled the wild-cat 
 deep among its native heather; and above him was heard 
 the cry of the wild eagle as it surveyed the nether air, or 
 floated away to the dizzy cliffs over deep Loch-Chon. 
 There was no sign of life among the honest natives; but as 
 the mist rolled off each rugged glen, the curling smoke 
 might be observed ascending from a dozen smugglers' stills; 
 while on the watch-rock might be seen the rustic form of a 
 
Life of Rob Roy. 63 
 
 Highlander gazing wistfully down the pass, looking for one 
 whom he hoped not to see, namely, the dreaded " gauger." 
 Macgregor had not looked long on the fairy scene before 
 him till he had matured his plans for the day; and 
 turning back into the cave where his young son lay, with 
 no covering but his Highland kilt, and with the granite 
 rock for his pillow, " Rab!" whispered the Highland chief. 
 Young Rab snored. " Rab!" again muttered the outlaw; 
 but Rab only rubbed his red eyes and turned himself on 
 his hard pillow. ^' Rab !" again growled the undefeated 
 hero, in a voice of thunder that rang through the dark 
 recesses of the cave, and the echoes from the distant shore 
 whispered it back. The sleeper sprung from his hard bed 
 and clutched his sgian-dubh, but only to confront his angry 
 father. "Get ready," whispered Macgregor. The boy 
 sheathed his dirk, and the rocks rang with the gathering 
 notes of the bugle; when, instantly, a score of hardy natives 
 of the hill and glen sprung from their heathery beds, all 
 eager to do the bidding of their chief As the sound of 
 the bugle echoed far among the shattered rocks of the 
 Glasshart, the watcher started and gazed wildly down the 
 glen; and here and there might be seen the curly head of 
 a smuggler as he peeped from his still, fancying himself 
 surrounded by a score of rangers, Rob Roy and his party 
 having had a fire kindled on the rock overhanging his cave, 
 were enjoying their morning repast. A good Highland 
 wether, snatched the night before from a flock on the neigh- 
 bouring hill, had been roasted on the red embers, and the 
 bold but warm-hearted Macgregors might have been seen 
 picking the bones on the heath-clad shores of Loch-Ard, 
 
64 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 *^ I'll pay these refractory lairds a visit to-day!" exclaimed 
 Rob. " It's not for me to be done this way. I have 
 not pocketed a penny of black-mail for nearly a twelve- 
 month; but if I don't teach them a lesson this day, my 
 hair's not red nor my name Macgregor!" ^^ You mean Auch- 
 entroig, I suppose?" asked young Rob. " I do," answered 
 the chief; " and some of his neighbours also." ^' Is that 
 Garden?" asked one of the party. " Yes," replied Rab; "and 
 I have an old account to settle with the gudeman of Kep- 
 dowrie." ^' What is that?" eagerly inquired the youth. 
 " Well," continued Macgregor, " a few years ago, when you 
 were a mere boy, and only able to attend to your father's 
 flock, or harry the eagle's nest at Inversnaid — at that time I 
 was engaged in a quarrel I had with the Montrose; and as 
 I could not be there myself, I sent a score of my best lads 
 on a lifting excursion to the vale of Strathendrick, and as I 
 had not been to that country for some time, I expected a 
 good drove. My men, however," continued Rob, ^^ passed 
 the gudeman on their way south, who, suspecting their in- 
 tentions, sent a messenger on horseback to warn his friends 
 on the Endrick that the Macgregors had passed southwards. 
 Acting on the hint, the men of the Endrick were hastily 
 gathered, and led by big Jock Din of Fintry, (curses on. 
 his carcase!) met, outnumbered, and overpowered the 
 Highlanders, near Balgair. My men fled towards Boquhan 
 glen, hotly pursued; and big Jock coming up to two of 
 them, was about to strike one down with his heavy leaden 
 staff, when my lad instantly wheeled round, and levelled his 
 piece at his pursuer, but the gun missed fire, when he and 
 his companion were instantly felled to the earth by the 
 
Life of Rob Roy. 65 
 
 powerful arm of Din.* Big Jock then rushed to the 
 head of the glen, gave one wild cry, that rang among 
 the rocks like the roar of a lion, and reaching even to 
 Boquhan, it aroused the Cunninghams, who renewed the 
 attack, when seven more of my brave lads w^re slain." 
 "And so you have good reason to settle accounts, I guess," 
 replied several of the gang. " No doubt," continued 
 Macgregor; "one member of a rival clan has a good right 
 to inform his friends of the intended attack of another; but 
 as I want a year's black-mail, if he is not inclined to cash 
 up to-day, we shall have the pleasure of his company, and 
 all that he possesses, to Inversnaid to-night." "I should 
 rather think so," chimed in young Rob, as he pitched the 
 last bone of "the wether" into deep Loch-Ard; and the 
 gang in general buckled on their swords, wiped the grease 
 from their grizzly beards, and prepared to ^^ bundle a»d 
 go." "We go straight to Auchentroig," cried Rob, as he 
 snatched his broadsword — that sword which had taken the 
 noted freebooter out of a hundred frays, and left him un- 
 scathed, while his rivals lay dead around him; "thence to- 
 wards Garden, pass the night at the Kepp, and, God willing, 
 return with the spoil to-morrow." Rob Roy and his hardy 
 band then started to pay the " refractory" lairds what after- 
 wards turned out not to be a friendly visit, and to claim 
 that to which, if he had not a right, he by might had a 
 title. When Rob Roy left the shores of Loch-Ard on that 
 somewhat eventful morning, the July sun rose clear and 
 beautiful, the mist had just left the lesser hills of the Gram- 
 pians standing clear in bold outlines, and was taking a 
 
 * Their two graves arc still to be seen. 
 
66 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 lingering farewell of the craggy summit of Ben-Lomond. 
 On his right lay classic Duchray, famous in the everlasting 
 pages of history, on whose heather hills the standard of 
 the Graham was unfurled, when the brave vassals gathered 
 around their loyal chief to defend the interests of their in- 
 jured King. Duchray, with its grey castle and hoary strong- 
 holds, its ivy-mantled turrets and dark dungeons, its rocky 
 passes and ferny glens, its deep pools and meandering 
 streams — ^where the quiet linn contrasts with the roaring 
 waterfall, and the heathery plain with the towering rock, and 
 
 ** Here, perched on some o'erhanging rock, 
 Far from huntsman's murdering shock — 
 On some wild cliff that nears the sky — 
 The falcon rears her young on high, 
 And feeds with care her tender brood; 
 Drops from above the dainty food; 
 A moment looks; then, circling round, 
 Seeks anew the hunting ground; 
 Then, far aloft, with outspread tail, 
 She scorns the keeper's leaden hail." 
 
 As the Macgregor marched along the heathery banks of 
 the Ard, the loud echoes of the waterfalls were heard deep 
 in the glens, and the dancing spray glittered in the morn- 
 ing sun like a shower of gold. 
 
 •* For o'er thy crags, with sullen gush. 
 The crystal waters loudly rush; 
 And dashing o'er, with deafening shock, 
 Plunges on the granite rock. 
 Then winding on, both clear and cool — 
 Eddying round each silver pool- 
 Till with the Duchray rushes forth 
 The parents of the infant Forth." 
 
 On his left stood the rocky Craigmore, with the wrecks of 
 a thousand storms at its base, and the ravens floating 
 
Life of Rob Roy. 67 
 
 round its summit. The sheep were bleating on the knowes, 
 while the lambs played in the meadows, and the fragrance 
 of the bluebell was wafted far on the wings of the zephyrs. 
 Before him now rolled the dark waters of the Avendhu, 
 with the finny tribe sporting in its deep pools, and the 
 playful fawn on its mossy banks. Rob Roy and his gang 
 strode onwards, chatting over past exploits, and hopefully 
 looking to the future. Approaching Craiguchty, and at 
 a turn of the road, they stumbled on a camp of native 
 gipsies. An old cove, who had grown grey in the service, 
 was striking his tent, and otherwise preparing for the day's 
 campaign. Beside him on the road stood a gipsy girl, 
 covered with what had once been clothes, with brown face 
 and matted hair; on her head the wreck of a cap, an in- 
 fant on her back, and black pitcher in hand. Perched on 
 a stone sat the female parent stem, with withered hands 
 and wrinkled face, cracking the lice on a young tinker's 
 rags. Defiling through a pass in the hills, Macgregor saw 
 approaching some thirty " flaskers," with cudgels in their 
 hands and unlawful treasure on their backs, marching on 
 towards Glasgow to dispose of the smuggled whisky. 
 
 Macgregor and his party concealed themselves behind a 
 knoll, and watched the flaskers approaching. As they drew 
 near, Rob could observe a band of determined looking 
 fellows, powerful and well armed — each having a heavy 
 oaken stick in his hand, and all carrying knives, — just such 
 a lot of men as would face a body of rangers, or a troop 
 of red-coats, regardless of life or limb, provided the darling 
 treasure on their backs was safe; and woe betide the un- 
 , happy ganger who should have the misfortune to fall in their 
 
68 The Lake of MonteitJu 
 
 way. As the " flaskers" came full round in view of the Mac- 
 gregor party, Rob gave one wild halloo, that rang among 
 the rocks, sent the sheep bounding up the hill, and brought 
 the whole gang to a stand-still. " In the king's name, sur- 
 render!" cried Rob. " Hang me if I will!" roared back 
 the leader of the flask'ers; and shouting out, "Gangers! 
 men!" thirty flasks were rolling on the heath and as many 
 cudgels brandishing in the air, and with earnest hearts 
 prepared to defend, against all comers, the darling "• wee 
 drappie." A loud laugh burst from Rob's men, as they 
 witnessed the confusion into which the smugglers were 
 thrown. " Confound you, Macgregor!" cried one of the 
 flaskers, " we took you for gangers." " I'll be easier put 
 off than these gentry," replied Rob; " I'll only ask a part of 
 the goods — not all, as gangers would do." " We are only 
 proud to supply you," responded half-a-dozen voices; and 
 Macgregor and several of his party had their flagons filled; 
 when, bidding each other god-speed, 
 
 ** They wended each their several way, 
 In hopes to meet some ither day." 
 
 Approaching Auchentroig, the Macgregors were observed 
 by some of the servants, who immediately informed the 
 Baron of the advance of armed men to the house. Being 
 well aware of their intentions, the Baron proceeded to bar- 
 ricade the doors and windows, to prevent the possibility of 
 their being forced open. The front door was made of red 
 oak, of the most massive description, and filled at regular 
 intervals with strong iron bolts having large round heads, to 
 prevent, if possible, any chance of its being burned. Rob 
 Koy drew up his men in front of the house, and called upon 
 
Life of Rob Roy, 69 
 
 the inmates to surrender. *' Surrender to whom?" cried the 
 Baron. " To Rob Roy Macgregor ! " was the bold reply. 
 *^ Never 1 " quoth the Baron. " Never will the Baron of Auch- 
 entroig yield to robber such as thee; and had I had time 
 to collect my men, one half of your cowardly gang would 
 never return !" "Force that door!" roared Macgregor; and 
 instantly a dozen of his men were at it with their brawny 
 arms, but they might as soon have attempted the mountain 
 rock. "Fire it, then!" growled the enraged freebooter; and 
 instantly the torch is applied; but for a time the massive door 
 defies their efforts. By-and-by, however, the fire catches, and 
 the bolts fall out one by one, and then there ensues a scene 
 of exultation and sorrow. Outside ring the jeers and coarse 
 laughter of the Macgregors; inside is heard the curses of the 
 Baron, the shrieks of the children, and the stifled sobs of the 
 ladies. The women, in despair, clamour to let them in. The 
 Baron rushes forward, seizes the iron-bar, in a moment the 
 door, black with smoke and red with flame, reels back on 
 its hinges, and the Baron is a pdsoner. The Baron still 
 refused to settle with Macgregor, and Rob handed him 
 over to his men to carry him to Aberfoyle; at same time 
 ordering a party of his men to sweep the estate of the 
 cattle and sheep — an order which was carried out to the 
 very letter. An old member of the house of Auchentroig 
 used to say, "They left not one hoof behind them." The 
 Baron was kept for some days till Rob's return, when, the 
 ransom was paid, and he returned to his family. The 
 cattle, however, were never returned, which must have 
 been a great hardship. An old farmer, who died within the 
 memory of some parties now living, used to tell, that when 
 
 \ 
 
7o The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 he was a boy herding his father's cattle at Clashmore, near 
 Gartmore, he saw the Macgregors passing with the Aiich- 
 entroig cattle, and he used to remark that among the drove 
 was a fine young grey mare. He also remarked that the 
 men were very kind to him — '^ gave him a lash o' drink, 
 an' lots o' cake and cheese," a luxury he rarely enjoyed at 
 home. 
 
 After instructing his men regarding the disposal of the 
 unfortunate Baron and his cattle, Macgregor, with a num- 
 ber of his men, went to settle matters with the guidman of 
 Kepdowrie, as before arranged. Here, as well as at Auch- 
 entroig, Rob had the misfortune to be seen approaching, 
 and preparations were made for resistance. The house at 
 that time was one of those low one-storeyed buildings, the 
 outer door opening in two halves inwards. Built into the- 
 wall was a heavy piece of oak, several inches square, which 
 drew out behind the door at pleasure, and which made in- 
 vasion from that quarter impossible. On the approach of 
 Rob, the guidman, who was then very old, but still of great 
 strength, armed himself with what is known in country 
 districts as " a peat spade," a most unhappy weapon in the 
 hands of any powerful man, and took up his position be- 
 hind the door. Presently Macgregor arrived, and demanded 
 admittance. Getting no answer, he became impatient, and 
 cried "Who's there^" "I'm here," coolly whispered the 
 guidman. " Let me in," cried Rob. " I will not," was the 
 reply. "Come, hand me that siller!" demanded the free- 
 booter. " Not a plack," was the cool response. Rob, get- 
 ting very angry, dashed at the door, seized the handle, 
 and made the fabric rattle on its hinges. " Cross but that 
 
Life of Rob Roy. 7 1 
 
 threshold," cried the veteran, *'and I shall cleave your red 
 head to the shoulders." Macgregor staggered back amazed; 
 and an old rhyme says that 
 
 " Macgregor at the door did stand, 
 
 And swore like ' Rab the Ranter;' 
 The auld man, wi' his spade in hand, 
 
 Did cheerie up his chanter. 
 ' Come in, man, Rab! don't look sae douse,' 
 
 The auld man he did cry; 
 ' There's no ae soul within this house 
 
 But this peat spade and I.'" 
 
 ^* By the Lord," roared Rob, " and there's one too many !" 
 And, ordering his men off, he left the guidman to his re- 
 flections. Rob, not to be done, however, surprised the 
 guidman next day, and carried him and his neighbours 
 of Easter Kepdowrie prisoners to Gartmore, where, pro- 
 mising to cash up for the future, he left them to return 
 home. 
 
 After being paid in "peat spade coin" by the guidman, 
 Rob continued his march towards Garden. The then house 
 of Garden stood on a small eminence, a little to the north 
 of where the present mansion now stands, in what was at 
 that time a small lake, but now converted into a beautiful 
 and fertile meadow. The building was of the circular 
 tower kind, the walls being very strong, and, when sur- 
 rounded on all sides by deep water, must, in early times, 
 have been impregnable. The principal entrance to the 
 tower was by a drawbridge, leading towards the north, and 
 connected with an avenue that is still called "The Causey- 
 head," a number of the old trees being still growing. On 
 Macgregor's arrival at the castle, he ordered his men to 
 open the drawbridge, to prevent any surprise, while he 
 
72 The Lake of Mo7tteith. 
 
 himself deliberately walked into the hall. "Is the laird 
 at home'?" demanded Rob of the servant. " He is not, 
 just now," was the prompt reply. '• Do you tell me 
 the truth or a lie^' cried Rob. " I tell thee the truth," 
 retorted the servant sharply. " Well, I shall see," muttered 
 Macgregor; " and if you do not, I shall hing you by the 
 heels from the balcony window." The servant rushed to 
 the door to call assistance to expel the intruder, but was 
 surprised to find the house surrounded by armed men, 
 when he became painfully aware of the character of his 
 visitor. Presently Rob stalked at pleasure through each 
 room in the house, peering into every corner, looking for 
 the absent laird, or anything else worth, should he not find 
 the object of his search. Looking out at one of the win- 
 dows of the upper storey, he saw the laird and his lady 
 slowly walking down the avenue, and he coolly awaited their 
 approach. "What men are these *?" asked the lady of her 
 husband, as they drew near the house, and saw Rob's men 
 marching around it. " Good heavens ! " exclaimed the laird, 
 " that's the Macgregors, and there is no other than Rob 
 Roy himself looking out of the window!" As they ap- 
 proached the drawbridge, Macgregor cried, " You have 
 long refused me my reward of protection. Garden, but you 
 must render it now." " I will not," cried the undaunted 
 laird; " I never had protection from you, and you never 
 shall have reward from me." " You shall rue it, then," 
 growled Rob in accents that made the pass ring with their 
 echoes. "I never shall," cried back the laird; '^you will 
 not have a penny from me." Macgregor made no reply, 
 but rushing into the nursery, seized a child from the nurse, 
 
Life of Rob Roy. 73 
 
 and dashing out on the balcony, held, with his long orang- 
 outang-like arm, the child far in mid air, and swore he 
 would plunge it in the gulph below, if they would not in- 
 stantly comply. The laird still refused, well knowing that 
 Rob would disdain to injure a helpless babe; the lady, 
 however, as soon as she beheld her infant heir sprawling 
 between heaven and earth (the cries of the boy and the 
 curses of Rob Roy mingling in awful contrast, being too 
 much for any mother to bear), burst out with hysteric yell, 
 " Garden is at your will; only save my son!" Macgregor 
 being made sure of his protection money, ordered the draw- 
 bridge to be lowered, and the laird and his lady admitted 
 to the house. After being paid the full amount claimed 
 by him, Rob handed his tender charge over to his affrighted 
 mother, bestowing a Highland benediction on the laird, and 
 advising him to be more attentive to his just debts for the 
 future, lifted the drawbridge to prevent pursuit, and set 
 off for Amprior, where he intended to pass the night. 
 Rob Roy and his men took up their quarters in the only 
 public -house in the village, and prepared to make them- 
 selves comfortable after the day's fatigues, by indulging in 
 a little of the mountain dew. Captain Cunningham, of 
 Boquhan, chanced to be in Amprior on the same evening, 
 accompanied only by a friend and his servant, and, un- 
 aware of the presence of the Macgregors, stepped into the 
 house. A short time previous to this there existed a deadly 
 feud between Rob and Cunningham, on account of a severe 
 chastisement a party of Rob's men received at the hands 
 of Cunningham. They had met, however, on one occasion 
 before this, and although by no means friendly, they were 
 
 F 
 
74 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 certainly on better terms. Cunningham, who was a retired 
 officer, was a tall and handsome man, rathermore sinewy than 
 powerful-looking, and acknowledged to be the best swords- 
 man in the King's service, he having put to flight an Italian 
 who challenged the English army. Besides being a skilful 
 swordsman, he was gifted with gxeat stretch of arm, and had 
 a peculiar squint, which, while it rather dumfoundered his 
 antagonists, often proved of great service to him. On Cun- 
 ningham entering the room, Macgregor exclaimed, " Glad 
 to see you, Cunningham." *^ Halloo, Rob Roy!" was the 
 reply. "What's up to-dayf' "Not much," answered Rob. 
 " I have just been calling on your neighbour laird, and I 
 guess his lady will not ask to see my red face this twelve- 
 month." "Rob Roy Macgregor does not mean he has 
 done anything serious to the ladyf replied Cunningham. 
 " Not at all," quoth Rob; " I only frightened her a little." 
 " Take the other side of that table," cried Macgregor; ^'it's 
 a while since you and I met in such friendly quarters." 
 " Proud to do so, and ready to -face you at all times," cried 
 the free and warm-hearted Cunningham; at the same time 
 shaking Rob warmly by the hand. Rob shrugged his 
 shoulders as if he did not altogether relish the word 
 "ready," but made no reply. There sat the two proud 
 and warm-hearted chieftains in the little front room of the 
 " corner house " at Arnprior, quaffing their reeking 
 punch, and ' " fighting their battles o'er again." At each 
 side of the table sat the outward friends, but inward rival 
 chiefs; while round the room sat the rustic Highland 
 corps. 
 
 " There each the social cup did quaff, 
 Each mingled in the merry laugh. 
 
Life of Rob Roy. 75 
 
 There sat the lawless, dauntless coi-ps, 
 Their former battles fought once more. 
 On went the fun, as each declared 
 How many fights and spoils he shared — 
 How many foes he'd put to flight — 
 When standing up in single fight — 
 How each came out free skaith from harm, 
 By dint of skill and strength of arm. 
 Macgregor told, in long detail, 
 His grand exploits when levying mail: — 
 He'd viewed the prey with eagle eyes. 
 Had caught his victims by surprise; 
 He'd rushed, like wolf from out his den, 
 And seized upon thy heir, Garden; 
 He'd, like a deluge, with his staff 
 Swept the hill country round Dundaff. 
 He'd oft been proud to check the pride 
 Of haughty chiefs on Lomondside; 
 He'd met Argyle and faced Colquhoun, 
 And waged war with clansmen round. 
 Oft had he, to speed his fame, 
 Measuied lances with the Graeme.'* 
 
 *' I understand," cried Macgregor, addressing Cunning- 
 ham, " you had a set-to with an Italian*? " " I had a slight 
 brush," replied Cunningham. " Tell us it," cried half-a- 
 dozen voices at once. " Well," continued the Captain, 
 " immediately before I left the King's service, an Italian 
 landed in England, who had been creating a great sen- 
 sation on the Continent by his extraordinary feats of the 
 sword. He had never been defeated, and, in fact, had 
 either killed or maimed all who opposed him. Landing 
 at London from France, where he had defeated some of 
 the most expert swordsmen of that country, the fellow had 
 the audacity to challenge the British army ! For a time 
 there was no response; as no one seemed to have the 
 courage to face the undefeated foreigner. Seeing the dis- 
 honour that would accrue from the non-acceptance of 
 
76 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 such a challenge, I resolved to meet him myself and abide 
 the issue. We did meet, and he seemed a terrible foe — 
 tall and strong, and carrying the most awful-looking sword 
 you ever beheld. As soon as I saw him prepared, I sud- 
 denly sprung upon the stage, swung my sword out at full 
 length, and stared him wildly in the face, calling him to 
 come forward. He advanced one or two steps with a bold 
 and careless air, when he suddenly stopped, and surveying 
 me from head to foot, stood for a moment as if paralysed; 
 then, sheathing his sword, he uttered a most hideous yell, 
 and fled from the stage; — thus ended my meeting with the 
 Italian." " Hurrah for the Sassenach!" burst from a dozen 
 Highland throats, as Cunningham finished his story, while 
 his health was pledged in as many drained tumblers. 
 " Then, Captain," cried Macgregor, " it was that squint of 
 yours, and not your sword, that frightened the poor Italian." 
 " Then, Rob Roy, was it that squint that makes the bones 
 of seven of your men lie bleaching on the banks of Bo- 
 quhan Glen?" '^What! do you know whom you insult?" 
 roared Macgregor, as he started to his feet and clutched his 
 dagger. " I do," replied Cunningham, starting from his 
 chair and confronting the outlawed chief. " Where is your 
 sword, and I will teach you a lesson?" growled Macgregor. 
 *' That's what no Macgregor ever could do," returned Cun- 
 ningham. Cunningham, having come unarmed, had sent 
 his servant home for his sword; his family, however, sus- 
 pecting some foohsh broil, refused to give it, and he re- 
 turned without it. Observing an old sword in a corner of 
 the room, the Captain instantly dashed at it, and insisted on 
 fighting. Macgregor put his back to the wall, and swept 
 
Life of Rob Roy. 77 
 
 his sword around him. Cunningham ordered him to the 
 field in front of the house ; an order which he reluctantly- 
 obeyed. It was early morning when these two rival chiefs 
 rushed to the glen-side of Amprior, to seek each other's 
 blood. The eastern sun had just burst forth in more than 
 summer brightness, was casting golden tints along the braes 
 of the Kepp, and revealing the hidden beauties of the 
 lowland glen. No stir, save the murmur of the stream, as 
 it played among the ferny rocks, till the clash of swords — 
 as those two warriors, mad with jealousy and their eyes red 
 with wine, rushed at each other with wild-cat fury — awoke 
 its slumbering echoes. But the ever sagacious Rob Roy 
 found, at the very first onset, that he was no match for him 
 who had been 
 
 ** Trained abroad his sword to wield;" 
 
 and instantly dropping his blade, held out his hand to Cun- 
 ningham, who grasped it warmly. The two again returned 
 to " the Corner," where they drank till far on in the after- 
 noon — a practice prevalent in Amprior till the present day. 
 In the month of August of the year 1691, Rob Roy, 
 then in the pride of his youth and zenith of his fame, 
 encouraged by a desire for plunder, emboldened by suc- 
 cesses, and undeterred by a feeble government, headed 
 what is called in local history " The herriship of Kippen." 
 The daring Macgregor on this occasion is said to have been 
 followed by a band of marauders five hundred strong. It 
 does not appear that this was a raid on Macgregor's own 
 account; and Mr. Macgregor Stirling, in his notes to the 
 " History of Stirlingshire," says, — " This was nothing more 
 than a military diversion in favour of his legitimate Sove- 
 
7 8 TJie Lake of Monteith. 
 
 reign;" — a sentence, it must be confessed, I cannot fully 
 comprehend. At the head of this large and daring band, 
 Rob swept the country around Balfron, the valley of the En- 
 drick, and the whole western half of the parish of Kippen, 
 at his will; lifting horses, cattle, and sheep, and anything else 
 of value he could lay his hands upon. Resistance was im- 
 possible. To attack him was madness. The only way of 
 reaching his Highland heart, was to plead poverty. One 
 poor man who had followed him from beyond Balfron 
 to near Gartmore, and there told him a " tale of woe," 
 had his two cattle returned to him. When leaving the 
 village of Fintry, Macgregor saw a man coming along the 
 road with a burden on his back, who afterwards turned out 
 to be a weaver, on the road home with a web of cloth to 
 some of his customers. Riding up to the traveller, Rob 
 asked what he carried. *^ What's that to you?" replied the 
 fellow. " I'll let you know what's that to me," cried 
 Macgregor; and, springing from his horse, took the tra- 
 veller by the neck, and gave him such a shake that made 
 his nerves rattle to his very heels. " It's a bit wab," 
 gasped the terrified weaver. " Let's see it," cried Rob. 
 Rob being pleased v/ith the pattern, helped himself to as 
 much as would make a kilt, after which he allowed the 
 weaver to go. Getting the web on his back, he had only 
 proceeded a few yards, when, looking over his shoulder, 
 he exclaimed, '^ Ye'll answer for that yet, Rab." " Ay, my 
 man, when will that be?" asked Rob. " At the last day," 
 cried the weaver exultingly. " Ye gi'e lang credit, man; I'll 
 just take a pair o' hose," roared Rob; and the unhappy 
 weaver had to submit to a further demoHtion of the web. 
 
Life of Rob Roy. 79 
 
 Returning through the western portion of the vale of 
 Monteith, Macgregor and his men halted for the night on 
 the farm of Kinachlachan, about two miles west of the vil- 
 lage of Gartmore. Hearing of this incursion, a party of 
 military, or Western Militia, as they were called, then sta- 
 tioned at Cardross House, were ordered out to follow the 
 marauders. There had been some festivities going on at 
 Cardross, and when the soldiers were ordered out they were 
 in no fit condition for the task, the tradition being that they 
 were all more or less intoxicated. As a striking proof of 
 this it is said the officer in command left his quarters with 
 only one round of ammunition per man. Getting notice 
 in the evening that the Macgregors were likely to pass the 
 night to the west of Gartmore village, the commander of the 
 military led his men up the valley of the river Forth, to a 
 point where it is joined by the water of Kelty; then passing 
 up the strath of the latter, he reached the western portion 
 of the Dram of Drumit at early dawn. Under the cover 
 of this ridge he could now see the northern marauders at a 
 distance, making rapid preparations for starting — the rising 
 sun shining brightly on the motley camp. The plundered 
 sheep lay bleating among the heather, the stolen cattle were 
 grazing on the plain; and here and there could be seen a 
 kilted Highlander driving back the wandering steeds. The 
 sound of the bugle had just ran along the Dram, calling 
 the slumbering clansmen to march, when, like startled 
 hares, five hundred kilted warriors sprang from their heathy 
 beds; while, mounted on a hardy steed, and sword in hand, 
 could be seen the giant form of the great freebooter him- 
 self. Unperceived, the soldiers crept very near the Mac- 
 
TJie Lake of Monteith. 
 
 gregors. Rob's own servant, Allister Roy Macgregor, was 
 the first to observe them, and creeping back behind a dyke, 
 shot an advancing soldier dead. This bold stroke on the 
 part of Allister had two very different effects; it woke the 
 Macgregors to a sense of their danger, while it sent a thrill 
 of terror to the hearts of their pursuers. Rob, seeing the 
 mihtary, instantly galloped back to his men, and ordered 
 them to draw their swords. The commander of the soldiers, 
 although seeing the bold attitude of Roy's men, fancied 
 they would flee at the first volley, and ordered his men to 
 discharge their muskets; but instead of daunting the High- 
 landers they became the more infuriated, and dashing at 
 the soldiers who Avere now entirely out of ammunition, 
 caused them to flee in the wildest confusion. One of the 
 soldiers engaged Rob single-handed, but finding he was 
 no match for the giant Highlander, he instantly turned 
 and fled. Macgregor galloped after him with the inten- 
 tion of cutting him down, when the soldier suddenly 
 stooped, tore a heavy shoe from his foot and hurled it 
 with great violence at his pursuer, which striking Rob 
 upon the breast, nearly threw him from the saddle. 
 Seeing a man mowing grass in a field close by, the 
 soldier rushed behind him and craved protection. Rob 
 came up and demanded his surrender, " Never," cried 
 the man of the scythe. "Do you know," roared Rob, 
 " that I am Rob Roy Macgregor? And I have sworn an 
 oath that no red coat shall stand this day." " I care not 
 for your oath," returned the noble-hearted peasant; " but," 
 continued he, and turning to the soldier, " I'll relieve him 
 of his oath. Put ofl" your coat, and put on that of mine." 
 
I 
 
 Life of Rob Roy. 8i 
 
 Then raising his scythe with his brawny arm, he held it far 
 in mid-air, and cried, " Be you Rob Roy, or -demon, come 
 but one step further and I shall make your red head dance 
 on the bog!"* Rob gazed for one moment at the awful 
 weapon as it flashed in the morning sun, and reining 
 up his horse, turned back towards the battle-field. A 
 wounded soldier took refuge in the farm-house of Gart- 
 nahodick. The goodwife of the house ran and stood in 
 the door, with her hands resting on either side, when 
 a Macgregor came up and demanded admittance. " You 
 may get in," replied the woman, " but it will be through 
 me."t The man did not insist, and thus the soldier es- 
 caped. A young boy, the son of an officer, being pursued 
 by one of Rob's men, ran behind some bystanders, and 
 cried wildly to be saved; but the ruthless Highlander 
 dashed at him and shed his young blood on the dark moor 
 of Kinachlachan. Till within a few years the graves of 
 those slain were marked by green spots among the long 
 heath, but with some recent improvements they are now 
 not so easily seen. 
 
 This was the most serious misdemeanour Rob Roy was 
 ever accused of. It seriously attracted the notice of Go- 
 vernment, and a reward of one thousand pounds was offered 
 for his head. At the same time, large bodies of cavalry 
 were marched into Monteith, Aberfoyle, and other parts 
 of the Western Highlands, to check the lawless chief. 
 Macgregor, however, valued his head far more than the 
 
 * This spot is still called " The Soldier's Mollan" — i. e. meadow. 
 
 t Information from Mr. James M'Donald, Gartfarran, whose grandmother was 
 present at the time. 
 
The Lake of Montelth, 
 
 Government could afford to offer for its capture, and after 
 being made aware of the proclamation, he for a time dis- 
 persed his band, and, along with a few chosen ones, 
 sought the sweets of retirement among the wild rocks and 
 woods on the shores of his native Loch-Lomond. After a 
 time, and at the intercession of some of Rob's friends, the 
 proclamation was revoked, and Rob was once more a free 
 man. 
 
 In consequence of the harsh and cruel treatment Rob 
 received at the hands of Montrose and his factor, he con- 
 sidered it his duty, both to himself and family, to take am- 
 ple revenge on the authors of his misfortunes; and with 
 this end in view, he was neither slow nor slack when 
 occasion suited. He would, with his "lads," as he was 
 wont to call them, emerge from his rocky fastnesses, like 
 the wild eagle from her eyrie, on his doomed prey, lifting 
 the cattle of his enemy, and sweeping his estates of every- 
 thing of value for his lawless life. For many years he 
 kept up a regular system of annoyance, and which must 
 have told heavily on the resources of Montrose. Year 
 after year, he called on the tenantry fanning the northern 
 portions of the Duke's estate, and compelled them to de- 
 liver up the rents then due to his Grace, at the same time 
 taking good care to grant receipts for what he had lifted 
 on the part of the Duke; thus keeping the tenants all right 
 with the factor, and freeing from all responsibility those 
 helpless individuals. Although Macgregor delighted to 
 plunder and annoy Montrose, and the other neighbouring 
 proprietors who refused to pay him the stipulated " black 
 mail," he was the friend of the oppressed, and the ready 
 
Life of Rob Roy. St, 
 
 benefactor of the poor and needy; and many a hard- 
 up tenant did he relieve in the dark hour of adversity, 
 when there was no helping hand but his own. Coming 
 down through Aberfoyle from Inversnaid one day, about 
 the year 1716, and approaching a small farm which was at 
 that time tenanted by a widow of the name of Macgregor, 
 he was rather surprised to see a number of men near the 
 cottage. Being anxious to know what was likely to take 
 place, he and his chosen ones drew their swords and 
 stepped boldly into the house. " What's up with you the 
 day, Mrs. Macgregor?" exclaimed Rob, as he entered. 
 " Oh, Mr. Macgregor," cried the sobbing dame, " I ha'e 
 faun ahin' wi' my bit rent, and the factor's comin' the day 
 tae sell my things, and there the folk gatherin' tae the 
 roup." Rob Roy Macgregor had a heart that could feel 
 for every pang of human distress, and a tear stood in his 
 noble eye as he heard the mournful tale, thought of the 
 horrid oppression, and gazed on the three helpless chil- 
 dren, as they clung to their lone mother's knee and cried 
 for bread. "How much are you behind, Mrs. Mac- 
 gregor?" asked Rob. " I am just twenty pounds," replied 
 the widow. "Oh, is that all?" replied Macgregor cheerily; 
 " I'll soon make you all right — I always carry something 
 in a hugger for folk of your sort;" and, plunging his hand 
 into his long waller purse, he handed the widow the re- 
 quired sum. "And now," said Rob, "you will get a receipt, 
 and leave me to settle with Mr. Graham;" and Rob took 
 his leave, while a thousand benedictions were being showered 
 on his head. Rob Roy and his men concealed themselves 
 in a small public-house that then stood on the roadside near 
 
84 The Lake of Moiiteith, 
 
 the Gleshard, on the classic shores of Loch-Ard. Presently 
 Graham arrived, and was rather surprised to find the widow- 
 prepared to settle his claim. On asking who had been 
 kind enough to help her with the money, the widow replied, 
 ^^ I hope the siller will do you as meikle guid as it's done 
 me, factor." Graham, feeling he was rather cut short, 
 granted the receipt, and, along with his clerk and servant, 
 took his way home. Macgregor, who had all. the while 
 been watching the factor's movements, cautiously awaited 
 his opportunity, and, as he drew near, stepped out on the 
 road to meet him. ^^Well, Graham, how did the sale go 
 on?" cried the sarcastic freebooter. Graham looked daggers, 
 gazing as if he had beheld an apparition; and, seeming fully 
 to realise his position, muttered out, " We had no sale." 
 " Oh, she would settle up, I suppose, then?" returned Rob. 
 ^' No, she did not," replied Graham, getting afraid of his 
 cash. " Come, come, factor, no more of your lies; I know 
 she did, and hand me my money at once," cried Macgregor, 
 getting somewhat impatient. ^' I got no money; and, you 
 ruffian, you shall pay for this interference," retorted Graham. 
 " Tell your lies to your master, but not to me," roared Rob 
 Roy; and, dashing at the bewildered factor, clutched him 
 by the ears and shook him like a withered reed, till his 
 screams rang through every glen, and the rocks threw back 
 the echoes. Seeing there was no escape, Graham handed 
 Rob ^^ the widow's mite," being in perfect terror of his life. 
 '^ Now," said Macgregor, as he pocketed the money, " see 
 you do the like of this no more, for as long as there is life 
 in this heart, nerve in this arm, and steel in this sword, no 
 Sassenach shall dare insult the poor in the country of Rob 
 
Life of Roh Roy. 85 
 
 Roy. You may trample out the lives of your serfs at Kil- 
 leam, but not on the soil of the Macgregor."* After this 
 very sensible advice on the part of Rob, he allowed the 
 factor to proceed on his way; and, I presume, he would 
 plod his path to Killearn rather crestfallen. 
 
 About this time Montrose had a meal-store at Miling, 
 a farm on the western shores of the Lake of Monteith; and 
 when Macgregor was in any strait, this store was of con- 
 siderable value to him, as it often supplied himself and 
 his men with a very necessary article. It having come to 
 the knowledge of Rob Roy on one occasion that a number 
 of the cottars on the Duke's estate in Monteith were in 
 rather poor circumstances, he instantly issued orders to a 
 number of the Duke's tenants to meet him at Miling, on a 
 certain day, and on horseback. The tenantry, although 
 rather surprised at this demand, had more sense than 
 disobey it, and they all met him at the appointed time. 
 After meeting, Rob asked the names of all the most deserv- 
 ing poor in the neighbourhood of each of the tenants pre- 
 sent, and after being informed on the point, he ordered 
 the storekeeper to hand over to the men a stated quantity 
 of meal for each poor family, and desired the tenants to 
 convey it on the horses' backs to the individuals. At the 
 same time Rob gave the storekeeper a regular receipt that 
 the distribution was by order of his Grace, thus keeping 
 the storekeeper all right as to his accounting for the meal. 
 The storehouse is still standing, and is carefully preserved 
 by the noble proprietor. 
 
 * Information from Mr. Alexander Miller, Aberfoyle, who had It from an old 
 man who died about 70 years ago, at a very advanced age, and who knew Rob 
 Roy in early youth. 
 
S6 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 Whether this "generous" action on the part of Mac- 
 gregor was solely for the interests of the poor cottars of 
 Montrose, or with a desire to annoy his enemy for the 
 cruel persecution he and his family had rateived at the 
 hands of his Grace's factor, is not known. One thing, 
 however, is certain, that his great sagacity contrived to 
 make all his transactions clink together for his own interest; 
 and although he was in reality the poor man's friend, yet 
 in most cases he took good care to be no loser by the 
 transaction; and it is said he turned this " raid" into good 
 account, although at the end it very nearly cost him his 
 life. Macgregor, thinking that a little in the cattle-lifting 
 line would be a good finish to the meal transaction, and 
 as it might save him a trip some other time, — made a 
 dash at the village of Gartmore, and succeeded in lifting a 
 number of cattle belonging to the villagers. Among the 
 spulzie were some animals belonging to one Miller, a 
 resident of the village. Miller being himself a bold and 
 daring man, resolved to pursue Rob Roy, and retake his 
 cattle, or perish in the attempt. Accordingly, he armed 
 himself with his dagger and pistol, and, accompanied by a 
 single servant, set out on the hazardous enterprise. Miller 
 tracked Macgregor as far as Glendhu; but there, having 
 lost track owing to the darkness of the night, and being 
 considerably tired by the journey, he resolved to pass 
 the night. Entering the inn (?), Miller and his servant par- 
 took of some refreshment, after which they retired to bed, 
 having heard nothing of Rob or the lost cattle — the ser- 
 vant sleeping in front of the bed, and Miller at the back. 
 The travellers had been but a short time in bed, when the 
 
Life of Rob Roy. 87 
 
 trampling of feet, the noise of several voices, and the 
 lowing of cattle were heard around the house. " Do ye 
 hear that, maister?" muttered the servant, at the same time 
 giving his half- sleeping master a punch with his elbow. 
 *'What is it?" whispered Miller. "It's the rout o' yer ain 
 stirks," replied the watchful servant. "Keep quiet till we 
 see what will turn up," whispered Miller. In a short time 
 Rob and his men entered the house, having secured the 
 cattle for the night. After some conversation with the 
 landlord, and being regaled with a horn or two of the 
 mountain-dew, Rob asked for his favourite bedroom. In 
 passing to the room allotted to him, Rob had to pass 
 through the one in which Miller and his man lay, and see- 
 ing a fire in the grate he stepped forward to light his candle. 
 
 '^Hearing some one in the room, Miller raised his head and 
 there beheld the thief of his cattle stooping at the grate. 
 Thinking this was now his opportunity. Miller raised him- 
 self gently up, and with nervous arm took aim at the noted 
 freebooter. He drew the trigger, and clack went the ham- 
 mer; but, alas for the Gartmore hero! the powder only flashed 
 in the pan, and left him helpless. Rob, who was perfectly 
 unconscious of any one being in the room, instantly "smelled 
 powder," and, clutching his pistol, fired, when a yell burst 
 from the dark bed, and Miller fell dead on the pillow."'" 
 
 Early one May morning in the year 17 16, Rob Roy 
 Macgregor, then residing at Glengyle, near the head of 
 
 ^ Loch-Katrine, ordered into his presence his faithful and 
 trusty servant, Allister Roy Macgregor. Allister^vas in- 
 stantly in the presence of his chief, and was at all times 
 
 * Information from Mr. James M 'Donald, Gartfarran. 
 
88 Tlie Lake of Monteith. 
 
 only too glad to be of service to him. This individual is 
 said to have possessed almost the great sagacity of Rob 
 himself, and being of the true Macgregor stamp, was intrust- 
 ed by him on many an important mission, and was held in 
 great esteem by his master, as on many occasions his ser- 
 vices were of very considerable value. " Allister," said 
 Rob, as the servant drew near, " I am a little hard up, and 
 it is now about the time Montrose's rents are due; and as 
 he has taken the precaution of lifting them privately this 
 last time or two, and that too before they fell due, you will 
 go down to Drymen, and cause to be proclaimed at the 
 church door, on Sunday first, that I have gone to Ireland, 
 and will not be home for some weeks; and this will no doubt 
 induce Graham to collect the rents at once. Before you 
 return, you will, if possible, get word when and where the 
 factor is likely to collect. And now, Allister, be to me as 
 you have been before." " Just leave that to me, chief," 
 replied Allister, proud to be sent on such a mission; and a 
 few minutes after the faithful servant was hurrying down 
 the rugged side of Loch- Katrine on his way to Drymen. 
 Allister reached the village of Drymen late on Saturday 
 evening, and as the people were assembling to the church 
 on the following day, he caused the officer to proclaim at 
 the church door that Rob Roy had gone to Ireland a few 
 days before, on business of great importance, and could not 
 be back before some weeks; and that said proclamation 
 was to inform his friends in that quarter the cause of his 
 absence. Having got this part of the mission completed, 
 Allister stayed that night and the following day and night 
 in the village, but without getting any information regarding 
 
Life of Rob Roy. 89 
 
 the rent collection. Leaving somewhat early on the follow- 
 ing morning, and coming across what is known as the Moor 
 of Drymen road, leading towards the village of Gartmore, 
 and as he turned down the hill, commanding a beautiful 
 and extensive view of the surrounding country, Allister 
 stretched himself on the green grass to enjoy the scene. 
 Before him, in all its varied enchantments, lay the lovely 
 vale of Monteith — the lake, like a fairy thing, slumbering on 
 its bosom — and rivers watering its plain, — with the Castle 
 rock of Stirling and the Abbey Craig looming through the 
 morning mist, and the Ochil hills filling in the background. 
 AUister, too, could see the battle-ground of Sheriffmuir, on 
 whose bloody field he took part only the year before. On 
 his left, rolled the infant Kelty deep o'er its rocky bed, with 
 the finny tribe sporting in its dark pools. There, too, lay 
 the battle-field of Kinachlachan, where, by his own dexterity 
 and watchfulness, Allister had, when in the full bloom of 
 his youth, slain an advancing enemy, and saved his master 
 and spoil from capture. The village of Gartmore lay bask- 
 ing in the morning sunshine, with its curling smoke rising 
 far in mid air, while the bald head of the Grampians towered 
 beyond. On his right was heard the cry of the moor-cock 
 and the song of the shepherd, mingled with the bleating 
 of the lambs as they sported among the long heather, or 
 the bark of the shepherd's dog, as it drove back some wan- 
 derer from the flock. Above him was heard the carol of 
 the lark, as it soared upwards towards the blue vaulted 
 heaven, and the falcon, with outspread wing, floated over 
 her eyrie on the Gowlan rock; while the peeweep and the 
 plover filled the air with their doleful cries. 
 
 G 
 
90 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 Allister was thus enjoying the sylvan scene, when his at- 
 tention was attracted to a youth as he came tripping over 
 the heath. The Highlander lay watching his approach, 
 when suddenly, and as if by magic, the youth disappeared 
 among the long heather. Allister started to his feet and 
 gazed in the direction where he was last seen, and pre- 
 sently beheld him floundering up through the heath,' and 
 shaking the fog and moss from his shoulders. With the 
 agility of the mountain cat the stripling sprung on to the 
 road, and instantly recognising Allister as the man he had 
 seen at the church-gate on Sabbath, he exclaimed, " Man! 
 I wish Rob Roy, instead of going to Irel2.nd, had come 
 and lifted the Duke's rents, as he's done mony a time before, 
 an' no haen me lost among thae mortal peat holes." Allister 
 instantly picked up the idea, and the thought that he had 
 now fallen on the right scent shot through his brain with 
 meteoric flash, and he eagerly replied, '-'■ Did ye say ye was 
 warnin' to the rents^" "Atweel am I; an' I ha'e been 
 knockin' amang cottars an' peat holes the hale mornin'," 
 replied the careless boy. Allister was now fully satisfied 
 that the whole matter could be got by a little extra pump- 
 ing, and, as they strode on towards the village, he took 
 every precaution to drag from the unsuspecting boy when 
 and where the rents were likely to be collected. '' When 
 did ye say the rents are to be gathered? I'm a wee Hielan'; 
 I didna understand you very weel," said Allister. ^' There's 
 some o' your sort no sae very Hielan' after a'; our herd 
 callan's Hielan', and when ye tell him to mind his wark, 
 he looks as if he was as Hielan's the very deevilj but when 
 ye say, '■ Its dinner-time, Donald,' he understands ye fine." 
 
Life of Rob Roy. 91 
 
 Allister laughed deep in his own sleeve, and the boy con- 
 tinued, " The factor's to hft the rents on Friday." " It'll 
 be at Drymen?" chimed in the cautious Highlander. " No, 
 it's no; it's to be down there at the Chapelarroch," replied 
 the youth. " Is there an inn there?" asked Allister. " Yes," 
 continued the boy; "an' there's a letter tae the man in the 
 inn to have the factor's dinner ready for him.'* " Ay, an' 
 I'se warrant he'll tak his dinner hearty," replied the High- 
 lander. Approaching the chapel, Allister was anxiously 
 taking stock of the country, and planning to himself the most 
 convenient way of surprising the house without being ob- 
 served; and seeing a considerable quantity of broom grow- 
 ing on the Dram of Drummit, he whispered to his companion, 
 " There's a good deal of broom on that brae." " Man, an' 
 it's richt deep," was the quick response. "Will it tak ye ower 
 the head?" asked Allister. " Ower the headl" muttered the 
 boy. " If ye were in the middle o't ye wid neither see sun 
 nor win'." Allister having thus fully satisfied himself on 
 all the more important points connected with the rent col- 
 lection, took leave of his young companion, and hastened 
 on to Glengyle, to inform his chief of his success. The 
 faithful servant reached home in due time, and recounted 
 ' to Rob his adventure with the boy, and the information he 
 succeeded in drawing from him; when Macgregor at once 
 determined on seizing the money, and securing the person 
 of Graham himself. Accordingly, he mustered a strong 
 band of choice " lads," and marched down through Aber- 
 foyle the night previous to the rent collection; and, to 
 prevent being observed, he took the moor by Clashmore to 
 the west of the village of Gartmore. Arriving at a place 
 
02 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 called " Balloch Roy," or the "- Red Pass," the hardy band 
 sat down in the early dawn to sharpen their swords. Mac- 
 gregor and his party next reached the Dram of Drummit 
 unobserved, and took up their position among the long 
 broom, where they lay concealed till well on in the after- 
 noon. In this hiding-place Rob had a full view of 
 the house, and saw all the transactions going on. He 
 watched with more than eagle's eye the tenantry as they 
 went to and from the inn. As the day wore on, and the 
 last tenant had apparently left, Rob thought the conve- 
 nient time had now come for him to be up and doing, and, 
 as he always liked to do things in a becoming manner, 
 he ordered his piper to play before him to the house. On 
 hearing the sound of music, Graham, who was seated at 
 dinner, surrounded by a number of the tenantry, started 
 up to learn the cause, and was thunderstruck to see his 
 old enemy, instead of being off to Ireland, in the very 
 act of entering the house. " Good heavens !" exclaimed 
 Graham, as he beheld Rob, "here's Rob Roy! all's up!" 
 The roast beef fell from his teeth. "What shall I do 
 with my money?" cried the factor in despair, and turning as 
 pale as death. " Throw it into that loft," whispered one 
 of the tenantry; and instantly the bags containing the col- 
 lected rents were rattling on the sooty rafters. Macgregor 
 entered with a bold but careless air, naked sword in hand. 
 " Come awa, Mr. Macgregor," cried one of the company. 
 " I'm just coming; I'm one of those folks that require little 
 treating," replied Rob. "Will you have some dinner?" 
 asked Graham, anxious, if possible, to get the fair side of 
 Rob. " I will— -I have had a long day o't," was the quick 
 
Life of Rob Roy, 93 
 
 response; and Rob sat down at the table, thrusting his sword 
 far ben among the plates. Macgregor and the factor, with 
 those at the table, made a most agreeable dinner, chatting 
 over the events of the period, which were then very 
 stirring, and never once alluding to the rents. Dinner being 
 finished, Macgregor thought it was about time to begin 
 business, as the afternoon was wearing on. " Have you 
 any objections to a tune, factor?" asked Rob. " Not in the 
 least; would only be delighted with a tune," replied Graham. 
 Rob instantly ordered his piper to play up a certain tune, 
 and which he did with stirring effect. This was the precon- 
 certed signal for his men to surround the house, and six in- 
 stantly entered the room with drawn swords. The tenants 
 looked at the factor and the factor at the tenants; and it then 
 began to dawn on his hardened heart that all was not over. 
 Starting to his feet, and clutching his sword as if in the act 
 of leaving, Rob turned to the factor and exclaimed, " By- 
 the-by, Mr. Graham, how did you get on with the rents?" 
 " Oh, I have got nothing; I have not yet begun to collect," 
 replied Graham. ^* No, no, chamberlain; your lies will not 
 do for me. Rob Roy always counts by the book; out with 
 it," rejoined the hero. The book was accordingly produced; 
 and it having been seen that the money was collected, it 
 was instantly ordered up. Graham, shaking like a shat- 
 tered reed, produced the bags, which were immediately pock- 
 eted by Rob, in presence of the dumfoundered chamber- 
 lain. " And now, Mr. Graham," continued Macgregor, "it's 
 a long time since I saw you at Loch-Katrine; ye'll come 
 along and see how I am getting on there'?" " No, no; I 
 beg pardon; I pray to be excused," muttered the trembling 
 
94 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 chamberlain. " You pray to be excused; what effect had 
 the prayers of my Helen on your hardened heart, when 
 you insulted her, drove my children from their home, at 
 Craigroystan, and wrongously seized upon my estate — long 
 the land of the Macgregor? And it shall yet be theirs. 
 There was no pardon for my boys, when you drove them 
 out, helpless, amid the storm, when their father was far 
 away in England, when there was no helping hand for the 
 Macgregor, and no mercy with the Graham. Now there shall 
 be no mercy with the Macgregor. Allister, seize him! I 
 will settle with the rogue when I get him to the shores 
 of Loch-Katrine." 
 
 These last words of Rob Roy were delivered with a 
 sternness of character that told he meant what he really 
 spoke. Graham understood them well; and he looked 
 anxiously around him, but there was no helping hand there. 
 He well knew that to attempt resistance was to annihilate 
 the only hope of saving his life, and he resolved at once 
 (though he deserved none) to throw himself on the mercy 
 of his captors; and, quivering like an aspen leaf, the be- 
 wildered chamberlain crawled from the dinner-table at 
 Chapelarroch more dead than alive. " Play up a tune," 
 cried Macgregor to his piper. " He'll be the first Graham 
 ever was played up the Boreland brae." The order was 
 instantly obeyed, and the Macgregors pushed on their 
 way to Loch-Katrine, with the crestfallen factor in their 
 front, cheered only with the stirring strains of the bagpipe. 
 As he passed the village of Gartmore, and entered the dark 
 defiles of the Highland mountains, Graham's heart almost 
 sank within him. On either side were frowning hills and 
 
Life of Rob Roy. 55 
 
 yawning glens; above him towered the rocks, as, like 
 naked skeletons, they hung in shattered masses over his 
 unhappy head; beneath him roared the waterfall, as it 
 foamed over its rocky bed; behind him the sun was fast 
 sinking below the western horizon ; before him he saw the 
 shades of evening gathering around the hill -tops of the 
 Trossachs, and on either side the mist began to wade 
 among the stinted hazel, and to linger on the bosom of 
 Loch-Auchray; while here and there a twinkling star could 
 be seen high up in the heavens, telling plainly that night 
 had already began " to tread the heels o' day." Alone, 
 in a wild and lawless country, with foes on every side, 
 Graham now began to reflect on his sad position. He 
 had shown but little mercy himself; and now he could 
 look for none. In front strode Rob Roy, the sworn 
 enemy of his master; on either side were his trusty re- 
 tainers, wdth drawn dirks; while at his back was AUister, with 
 a naked sword. Graham felt that his life hung by a single 
 thread. One word of Rob could set him at liberty — another 
 send his carcase to feed the eagles ; and the bewildered 
 chamberlain knew not but the first rock might be his block, 
 or the first tree his gibbet. Rob Roy strode onwards 
 before his captive in sullen silence; and, reaching Loch- 
 Katrine, Macgregor, in a voice that echoed far across the 
 loch, sending the wild drakes quacking from the reedy 
 inlet, ordered Graham into a boat, and his men to pull 
 him to the island. The men pulled away through the deep 
 waters of Loch - Katrine, Graham knew not whither. 
 Around him in the boat were his sullen captors. Silent 
 also sat the captive, as he gazed out on the rufiled waters. 
 
96 Tlie Lake of Monteith. 
 
 and looked around him on the wild Highland scene. 
 Above him in solemn grandeur towered the shaggy form of 
 Ben-Venue, its bald head hidden by a cloud, and its black 
 shadow lying far across the loch. Among the rugged hills 
 was seen the blaze of the heather, as, like some mighty ser- 
 pent, it hissed and darted its fiery tongue among the long 
 heath, and spread its red wing on the breeze, sending its 
 fiery glare high into the clouds. The shallop, steered by 
 brawny arms, sped on through the still waters; and as they 
 neared the island, the darkness was deepened more by the 
 shades of the thick copsewood. Bounding away among 
 the dark recesses, was heard the light foot of some startled 
 deer, while from the forest came the wail of the tawny 
 owl, as it floated after its evening prey; and as the piercing 
 cry rang in his ears, Graham fancied it the last howl of 
 some dying captive less fortunate than himself Before he 
 had time to reflect, the boat struck on the rocky island, and 
 a gruff voice ordered him on shore. Crawling out among 
 the rocks, the half-dead factor found himself on a lonely 
 island on the "■ Loch of the Robber." " Follow me," cried 
 Macgregor sternly, as he led the way to Graham's future 
 prison-house. The captive moved on in Rob's track, and 
 rising above the thick underwood he saw looming before 
 him a gloomy ruin, dismal and dark as the forebodings of 
 his own soul. *' Put him in the old room, Allister," cried 
 Rob Roy, ^'and set two of the lads to keep watch and 
 ward over him till I settle matters with him in the morn- 
 ing." The faithful servant bowed to his chief, and led his 
 charge up a short flight, of steps, and along a dark and 
 narrow passage — the only light being that of the moon, as 
 
Life of Rob Roy. gf 
 
 it glimmered through the broken roof. A few more steps, 
 and Graham found himself within a dreary-looking abode. 
 A cold shiver shot through his whole frame as he sank 
 down exhausted on a broken stool, while Allister turned 
 the key in the rusty lock, and retraced his steps down the 
 dusty stair. For a time Graham sat half unconscious. 
 The journey from Chapelarroch had told on his not too 
 hardy frame. The peril of his own life, and the thought of 
 his wife and family, nearly drove him to distraction. Re- 
 viving a little from his gloomy condition, he rose and 
 looked at the narrow window. The moon had just burst 
 through a shattered cloud, revealing the hidden glories of 
 the Highland loch, and Graham gazed rapturously on the 
 scene. Around him was water, only water; beyond, in proud 
 pre-eminence, rose the grand old Highland hills, the mist 
 lying on their sides, with here and there the bald scalp of 
 a rock peering through the silken covering, like islands in 
 a sea. In the distance was heard the cry of the startled 
 sea-gull, as the plunge of the prowling otter had scared it 
 from its nest. Ever and anon came from the glens the 
 hoarse calls of the parents of the flock, as the wild cat 
 dashed on some unoffending lamb. On a corner of the 
 old " keep" the barn-owl sat and watched, while the bats 
 played around the walls. Below him, on the grass, sat the 
 two sentries, muttering their Highland dirges, and chant- 
 ing their war songs; and he could hear them whispering 
 curses on the Sassenach for keeping them out of their 
 heathery beds. Retiring from the window, Graham flung 
 himself down on some heather in the corner of the room, 
 and passed the night in sleep and reflection. Early in tlie 
 
98 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 following morning, Rob ordered the chamberlain to be 
 brought into his presence. Rob, however, only taunted 
 him about his present position, mingled with threats, and 
 again ordered him back to his room. This continued from 
 day to day for about three weeks, after which Rob Roy al- 
 lowed him to return home. Before sending him away, how- 
 ever, he addressed him thus, " Now, chamberlain, if I had 
 done what your usage of my family demanded in return, I 
 should have hung you up by the neck; but, as Rob Roy never 
 avenges himself on defenceless men, I allow you to return 
 home. Remember, however, that the soil north of the Kelty 
 is ours. The Macgregors lost it by unfair and cruel perse- 
 cution, and by a gross breach of the right of succeeding 
 generations; but so long as Rob Roy Macgregor lives, and 
 his clan breathes in these glens, he shall not cease to take 
 care of the rents himself And you may tell your false 
 master that, so long as he holds these lands, I shall con- 
 tinue to be his open enemy — and not of him alone, but of 
 all who dare to seize the sacred soil of my fathers. For 
 years my poor clansmen have been hunted, shot, and 
 murdered; but remember, there is one head in Glengyle, 
 and swords in Strathfillan, and God shall defend the 
 right!" After the very merciful treatment which Graham 
 had thus received, Montrose, partly in consideration of the 
 leniency shown to his factor, and on account of the unjust 
 treatment which Rob had been subjected to at his own 
 hands, in a great measure ceased to persecute Rob. Mac- 
 gregor, in turn, ceased to annoy Montrose, and for many 
 years before his death Rob had given up all raids into the 
 country of his old enemy. 
 
Last Moments of Rob Roy. 99 
 
 LAST MOMENTS OF ROB ROY. 
 
 Rob Roy Macgregor died on the farm of Inverloch- 
 larabeg, among the braes of Balquhidder, in 1735. When 
 confined to bed, nearly worn out by the laborious 
 vicissitudes of a long and restless life, and approaching 
 dissolution stealing fast upon him, there occurred a scene 
 which was singularly characteristic of the man. A person 
 with whom he had had a quarrel called to see him; and 
 on being made aware of this, Rob called to his attendants, 
 *^ Raise me up; dress me in my best clothes; tie on my arms; 
 place me in the great chair! That fellow shall never see 
 me on a death-bed." His attendants instantly complied, 
 and he received his visitor with cold civility. Before they 
 parted the priest arrived, and conjured Rob, as he expected 
 forgiveness from God, to bring his mind in his last 
 moments to forgive all his enemies. Rob at first de- 
 murred to this expostulation; and the priest, to enforce it, 
 quoted part of the Lord's prayer. On hearing this, Rob 
 said, " Ay, now, ye ha'e gi'en me baith law and gospel for't. 
 It's a hard law; but I ken it's gospel." Then, turning 
 to Rob Oig (young Rob), his son, he addressed him 
 thus — " My sword and dirk lie there. Never draw them 
 without reason, nor put them up without honour. I 
 forgive my enemies; but see you to them, or may" and 
 
The Lake of Mojiteith. 
 
 he expired. Rob Roy lies in the church-yard of Bal- 
 quhidder, beneath a plain stone, on the top of which is 
 carved the outline of a sword, an appropriate emblem of 
 the man and the times — 
 
 *' Clan Alpine's omen, and her aid." 
 
 In surveying the character of Rob Roy Macgregor, many 
 excellent traits appear, from which we cannot withhold our 
 admiration. There are no doubt some incidents in his 
 extraordinary career which deserve reprehension; but 
 when we consider the time in which he lived — a time when 
 the whole northern parts of the kingdom were torn by 
 civil discord, and distracted by politics — the Government 
 having neither strength nor wisdom to arrest the evils that 
 flowed from feudal chieftainship, we cease to wonder at 
 the deeds he performed, or the liberties he took. Rob Roy 
 was among the last of the true Highland chiefs of the old 
 stock, who gloried in supporting the ancient dignity and 
 independence of his race. For a long series of years his 
 clan had been subjected to the most fearful and cruel per- 
 secution at the hands of Government and the more power- 
 ful neighbouring chiefs; and it seemed as if Rob had been 
 raised up by Providence to retrieve the fallen fortunes of 
 his clan, and to arrest the bloodshed of his kindred. Rob 
 Roy had five sons, viz.. Coll, James, Ronald, Duncan, and 
 Robert. Of Coll there is very little known ; he is, however, 
 said to have been of a quiet and gentlemanly demeanour, 
 and, according to the rev. editor of the '' History of Stir- 
 lingshire," to have possessed " every manly virtue." James 
 is said to have been of great stature, and generally known 
 
Last Moments of Rob Roy. 
 
 as '* James Mor" or "Big Jamie." He possessed largely 
 the fiery dash of the original Highlander; inherited, 
 to a very considerable extent, the military ardour of his 
 father; and was a stanch supporter of the ill-fated house of 
 Stuart. In 1745, James, along with his cousin, Macgregor 
 of Glengyle, and twelve of his men, took the fort of In- 
 versnaid, and made eighty-nine of the soldiers prisoners. 
 He held the rank of Major under Prince Charles, and 
 commanded six companies of Macgregors at the battle of 
 Prestonpans, where he had the misfortune to get his thigh 
 bone broken. On account of this accident, he was unable 
 to follow his Prince in his ill-fated march into England; 
 but, on his return, he took an active part in the conclud- 
 ing battle of Culloden, where he again commanded several 
 companies of Macgregors. In the year 1752, James was 
 confined a prisoner in the Castle of Edinburgh, for the part 
 he took, along with his brother Robert, in the abduction of 
 Jean Keay; but effected his escape in the following extraor- 
 dinary manner: — His daughter, who had come to Edinburgh, 
 conceived a most admirable plan for his escape. Having pre- 
 viously arranged her designs, she, on the evening of the i6th 
 November, 1752, dressed herself in the habit and character 
 of a cobbler, and, with a pair of old shoes in her hand, she 
 went to his prison. Her father instantly put on the dis- 
 guise, and then commenced an angry dispute with the 
 supposed cobbler about an overcharge of the price, and 
 loud enough to be heard by the sentinels. Watching his 
 opportunity, he hurriedly left the room, and, under cover 
 of the darkness of night, managed to make his escape. 
 Being afraid to return to the Highlands, he took the road 
 
102 T7ie Lake of Mo7iteith. 
 
 to England, and, after severe and fatiguing travel, on the 
 evening of the fourth day after his escape, he found himself 
 benighted on a wild and lonely moor in Cumberland. 
 Travelling on through the darkness, he at length left the 
 moor and entered a large wood. Being unable to proceed 
 farther, he sat down at the foot of a tree, and bemoaned 
 his condition. Alone, far from home and all that were dear 
 to him, weary and hungry, he knew not what to do. The 
 thought of his wife and little ones at home almost broke 
 his heart; and the recollection of his own early and happy 
 days, spent among the green braes of his native Craig- 
 roystan, and the sunny banks of Loch-Lomond, harrowed his 
 soul. Happy would he have been, if, on the death of his 
 father, instead of fighting for ''■ Prince Charlie," he had 
 
 ** Hung his weapons in the hall." 
 
 Now, hunted by the most gross persecution, and punished 
 for imaginary crimes to satisfy a weak but cruel and ill- 
 advised Government, his goods had become the prey of 
 envious and devouring neighbours. James had been but a 
 short time in the wood when he was suddenly aroused by 
 a wild halloo that echoed far through the dark forest, 
 followed by the sound of several voices. Taking this for 
 his pursuers, he started to his feet, clutched his dagger, 
 cocked the pistols his faithful daughter had folded in the 
 cobbler's apron, and swore to himself that he would die 
 rather than be taken. Listening for a little, the voices 
 began to grow faint, and he saw at a short distance the 
 glimmering of a light. Anxious to know who these night 
 marauders were, and what might be their errand, he crept 
 
i.ast Moments of Rob Roy. 103 
 
 cautiously up to the light, and beheld an old woman hold- 
 ing a torch to three men, who were loading panniers on 
 their horses' backs. Fancy his surprise to hear one of the 
 men speak in the broken accents of his own native Loch- 
 Katrine! and, standing beside the old woman with the 
 torch, he imagined he saw the form of old Billy Marshall, 
 the tinker, whom he often had befriended in Glengyle! 
 After the horsemen had ridden off, Macgregor stepped 
 up to the hut, and, tapping at the door, it was opened 
 by Marshall himself. Although in the poor disguise of 
 a cobbler, he instantly recognised James, and gave him 
 hearty welcome. Marshall hoped James would at present 
 excuse the poverty of his abode, as it was only temporary, 
 until some ill-will he had gotten to himself in Galloway, 
 for burning a stack-yard, would blow over. James was 
 kindly entertained by the tinker for two days; and on the 
 third he and his host set out on horseback for Whitehaven, 
 where he got a fisherman's boat for the Isle of Man. 
 From thence he went to Ireland, where he sailed for 
 France. James died in France, poverty-stricken and 
 broken-hearted, in October 1754; and with him passed 
 away one of his clan's most able and enthusiastic sup- 
 porters. 
 
 We might follow the chequered career of the sons of 
 Rob Roy through a long list of varied adventures and 
 trials, but as none of these are closely connected with the 
 locality, we shall confine ourselves to a few of the daring 
 exploits of '' Young Rob," as he was called, as they are 
 of strong local interest, and eventually cost him his life. 
 Young Rob was the youngest son of Rob Roy, and said 
 
I04 TJie Lake of Monteith. 
 
 to be only seventeen years of age at his father's death. 
 Scarcely had his father been dead than he began his ad- 
 ventures by shooting his cousin, and ended his days on 
 the scaffold. Young Rob is said to have been tall, but of 
 slender build, and he inherited to a considerable degree 
 his father's dexterity at the sword. He appears to have 
 been reckless and easily advised — the tool of his more 
 cautious brothers, and, if taunted, would face a multitude 
 single-handed; but was altogether sadly wanting in the great 
 moral sagacity that distinguished his father, and that took 
 him out of so many difficulties. That the sons of Rob 
 Roy were sadly persecuted, there remains not a shadow of 
 a doubt; that they committed excesses there can be no 
 denial; but the fate of James and Robert was peculiarly 
 severe. After the alleged murder of his cousin, Robert 
 fled to France, and was present at the battle of Fontenoy, 
 in Flanders, on nth May 1745; and after his return he 
 never was brought to trial for the supposed crime, and it 
 was only for his part in the abduction of Jean Keay that he 
 was brought to the scaffold. The evidence in that case 
 being of the most conflicting kind, the rev. editor of the 
 '' History of Stirlingshire" says, Rob was executed " osten- 
 sibly on that score." As a proof of the manner in which 
 these men were treated, I have only to mention one in- 
 stance. James and Ronald were tried at Perth for their 
 share in the murder of their cousin, but were declared 
 " not guilty" by the jury; the judge, however, bound them 
 over to keep the peace for seven years, under a penalty 
 of two hundred pounds. 
 
Life of Young Rob Roy. 105 
 
 CHAPTER IN THE LIFE OF YOUNG ROB ROY. 
 
 It was one evening in the month of June of the year 
 1750; the sun had sunk to rest behind the giant form of 
 Ben-Lomond, and its golden rays had ceased to be visible 
 on the neighbouring hill-tops; the mist lay close on the 
 marsh; the shallop lay at anchor; the moorcock nestled deep 
 among the heather; and the last echoes of the cuckoo 
 had ceased to linger in the glens; while on the hills, the sheep 
 lay close on the faulds, and the lambs were huddled together 
 on the bracken knowes; the peasant had retired to sweet 
 repose, and the " wag on the wa' " of the lone Highland 
 cottage on the banks of the lake, had just tolled the dark 
 hour of twelve; there was no breeze on the hill, and the 
 loch lay unruffled; the mountain rill gurgled down the glen 
 of Portend, while the souch of the waterfall in the pool of 
 Glenny, mingled with the cry of the nightjar, only disturbed 
 the quietude of the scene; the innkeeper at the Port — 
 little, old, and grey — had just turned tho old key in the 
 rusty lock, drawn the big bar across the door, and resigned 
 himself to sleep, when the trampling of feet and the sound 
 of voices were heard. "What is this?" muttered the old 
 man to himself; " the cavalry back again!" and, starting to 
 his feet, he hurried to the window, and was surprised to see 
 a company of Highlandmen standing in front of the house. 
 
io6 TJte Lake of Mont cith. 
 
 the hilts of their swords gUttering in the pale moonlight, 
 ^' Ah! the Macgregors on some black-mail excursion, I guess," 
 thought the innkeeper; and presently he beheld the leader 
 of the gang, a tall handsome young Highlander, approach 
 the door and demand admittance. The summons was in- 
 stantly obeyed; and recognising the speaker, the innkeeper 
 exclaimed, " O! Bob Oig"' Macgregor!" " Well, Ure, how 
 goes it?" exclaimed Rob, as he pushed past the old man 
 into the house, followed by his gang. " Just keep quiet, 
 Highlandmen," replied Ure; and, re-barring the door, he 
 whispered into Rob's ear, ^^ Have you seen the cavalry?" 
 Rob looked serious and answered, " No, we have not; have 
 they been here of late?" ^' They have been here all day," 
 replied the innkeeper. " I suppose they are still stationed 
 at Cardross^" inquired Macgregor. " They are," answered 
 Ure; " but they have gone on to the Endrick for a day or 
 two, and are to be stationed at Balakinrain." " At Bala- 
 kinrain!" repeated Rob; and he gazed at his men, while 
 their eyes rolled back on the speaker. " Curses on their 
 Sassenach heads!" said Rob; " if I had them on the heath 
 they should not annoy me so," and the angry clansman 
 stamped on the floor and adjusted his kilt. 
 
 " But," addressing Ure, " bring us something to eat and 
 drink; it's a stiff hill that of yours." '' It is," replied Ure; 
 *' but many a good horse and cow your father has driven 
 o'er Glenny." ^' Yes," continued Macgi'egor; "- and I ex- 
 pect his son will rid-e another one o'er the Tyeperst before 
 the sun rise." " I'll tak a groat on that," replied the inn- 
 
 * Young Rob Roy Macgregor. 
 t A well-known track in the hill above the Lake. 
 
Life of Young Rd) Roy. 107 
 
 keeper, as he laid down the bread and cheese; and, turn- 
 ing to Rob, whispered in his ear, " There's no as much of 
 the Macgregor in ye." Rob swore, and quaffed a horn of 
 whisky, while the old man laughed. ** I guess the lads on 
 the Endrick will know we are Macgregors before this time 
 to-morrow," answered Rob, his cheek beginning to colour. 
 ''Ah, I see," cried the innkeeper; "you're for off with 
 Napier's hunter." " I am," cried Rob exultingly. " Then," 
 continued the innkeeper, " tak a friend's advice, and stay 
 on the north side of Forth; there's a trifle of your sort 
 below the heather on Balgair Moor already."* '' Curse the 
 fellow!" roared Rob; and springing to his feet, he clutched 
 liis sword exclaiming, 
 
 " Am I afraid to scour the glen, 
 Or yet to meet Strath- Endrick men ? 
 I'm ready now to strike that band; 
 I'll go and fetch her single-hand. 
 That sword shall never see its sheath 
 Until I house her in Monteith. 
 I swear it now, and have it sworn — 
 You'll see her at the Port the morn. 
 To-morrow shall that vow fulfil, 
 I'll land her safe beyond that hill ! 
 Macgregor ne'er shall foul his name, 
 Nor cowardice e'er stain his fame — 
 To-moirow I shall have the prize. 
 Or Macgregor in Strath-Endrick lies." 
 " Ha, ha! man, Rob!" cried the taunting host, 
 " We mind not for such empty boast; 
 But gie's a pinch, send round the horn,t 
 Ye'll maybe no come back the morn." 
 
 * This referred to the time when the Macgregors were defeated on the moor of 
 Balgair, by " Big Jock" and a company of Dun's. 
 
 t This massive relic, being a huge ram's horn, is the property of Mr. H. Graham, 
 Gateside, Port; but is at present in Glasgow. 
 
1 08 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 Rob quick the rustic horn did pass, 
 
 And helped himself to flowing glass. 
 
 But quick as they did quaff their wine, 
 
 As fast did roll unheeded time; 
 
 Hour after hour did onward flee, 
 
 Until the rustic clock struck three. 
 
 Macgregor started from his seat, 
 
 And soon the band were on their feet. 
 
 His favourite sword did catch his eye, 
 
 Before him, as 't did naked lie; 
 
 He'd ne'er forgot what passed before, 
 
 But now did mind the oath he swore. 
 
 He seemed as if in solemn mood — 
 
 His kinsmen round in silence stood, 
 
 And well each single eye could trace 
 
 The cloud upon the chieftain's face. 
 
 The brow upon that manly form 
 
 Lower'd like the cloud in coming storm, 
 
 Which told his mind, and showed his will — 
 
 Fierce as the blast that sweeps yon hill. 
 
 His heaving breast told but in part 
 
 What wild emotions filled his heart. 
 
 Tlie former taunts had still their pang; 
 
 Deep through his soul their echoes rang — 
 
 Rung at his nerves, till hope and pride 
 
 Dashed, like a thought, them all aside. 
 
 The crowing cock, out in the lawn, 
 
 Told Rob that early day did dawn; 
 
 The chirping bird, amid the thorn, 
 
 With joy did hail the approaching morn; 
 
 Ben-Lomond, still though in a cloud. 
 
 Did fast throw off the nightly shroud; 
 
 The rising mist from off the hill 
 
 Showed the curling smoke from smuggler's still; 
 
 The smiling lake, like silver grey — 
 
 The shallop on its bosom lay; 
 
 The tawny owl no more did roam. 
 
 But sought her nest in Inchmahome; 
 
 The herons screeched amid the brake; 
 
 Sea-gulls flaunted o'er the lake; 
 
 The scared duck, or wild drake's quack, 
 
 Was heard at distant Arnmauk; 
 
Life of Young Rob Roy. 109 
 
 The cunning fox, that out had stole, 
 Was seen returning to its hole; 
 Each drooping flower anew was born, — 
 The rising sun pronounced the morn! 
 Along the shore Rob fast did glide, 
 With stately step and manly stride; 
 He never tired, nor stopped to rest, 
 His fate still struggling in his breast. 
 He mused hard on his mad crusade, 
 But he trusted in his arm and blade; 
 He'd pledged his word, likewise his name — 
 He'd rather die than stain his fame. 
 Before the clock had counted ten, 
 Rob was seen at Balakinrain. 
 There, in a field before his gaze, 
 The coveted steed at large did graze. 
 He seized her soon, and o'er her strode — 
 Like falcon's swoop, he's on the road. 
 The soldiers to their horses flew, 
 And after him with wild halloo. 
 Quick sped the flight— on went the race- 
 More glorious far than hunter's chase! 
 Like drifting cloud before the gale. 
 The chieftain sweeps along the vale. 
 Quick in his course he on did dash. 
 And cross'd the moor like lightning's flash. 
 When he Buchlyvie village near, 
 They full a mile are in the rear; 
 On he swept through fair Garden, 
 And faster still he headed them. 
 The noise re-echoed up the glen, 
 As they sped on through field and fen. 
 The traveller paused, and mused in wonder — 
 The trampling seemed like distant thunder; 
 The peasant ceased awhile his toil. 
 And wondered at the great turmoil; 
 The startled hare did flee her den; 
 The frighted roe took 'cross the plain; 
 The heron started from the fern; 
 The cunning fox kept close his cairn — 
 Retiring, 'mid the thicket fast, 
 He viewed the storm go sweeping past. 
 
The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 Rob soon did reach the river Forth, 
 
 Which bounds the south lands from the north; 
 
 He reached it, and, with a stride, 
 
 He landed on the distant side. 
 
 They, too, did reach the Forth, I ween; 
 
 But man and horse plunged in the stream. 
 
 Down they sank beneath the surge; 
 
 But soon again were on the verge — 
 
 Some weaponless, and some half-drowned, — 
 
 Exhausted horse lay on the ground. 
 
 They were all safe, but thanks to Heaven 
 
 That none to death, or worse, were driven! 
 
 Their leader cried, *' Why will ye halt ? 
 
 Ho! horsemen, in your saddles vault ! 
 
 The robber's gone across the heath. 
 
 And to the hills of wild Monteith!" 
 
 Fast as thought they were astride, 
 
 And onward dashed the madd'ning ride. * 
 
 Cardross fields they had swept through, 
 
 When Glcnny hill burst on their view; 
 
 But deeming that he could not pass 
 
 Yon rugged hill which guards the pass, 
 
 Still on he goes at lightning speed: 
 
 No slacking seeks the noble steed: 
 
 Dykes and ditches, too, he meets — 
 
 O'er all the gallant courser sweeps. 
 
 He soon did reach the mountain base, 
 
 And for a moment stopped to gaze; 
 
 Around he for a second glanced, 
 
 And viewed them as they onward pranced. 
 
 Rob now began, for safety's sake. 
 
 To think what's best the course to take. 
 
 He fain would go to Aberfoyle, 
 
 But the panting steed can't face such toil; 
 
 Her trembling limbs fvill well he feels, 
 
 And death comes thundering at his heels. 
 
 * Information from the late Alexander Dun of Kepdowrie, who had it from his 
 uncle, John Dun of Kepdowrie, who was present on the road leading to the Port, 
 and .saw Rob ride past, pursued by the dragoons. The animal on which Rob rode, 
 said to be a " grey mare," was without saddle or bridle, while the Dragoons were 
 full mounted. 
 
Life of Young Rob Roy, 
 
 Longer there he cannot bide; 
 Destruction waits on every side; 
 Before him towers the rugged steep, 
 Behind, the lake lies dark and deep, 
 Onward, pursuers press him throng, 
 As raging torrents dash along; 
 More desperate they than yet they seem- 
 Bright in the sun their lances gleam. 
 The chieftain at the steep they view, 
 Each horseman feels his strength renew; 
 And hope begins to fire each vein, 
 That they would yet the steed regain. 
 But Rob ere tl is matured his plan, 
 And with a glance the hill did scan; 
 He firmly then the reins did clasp. 
 And seized the mane with giant grasp; 
 He quickly then his rowels plied. 
 And plunged them in the horse's side. 
 Like arrow shot from out the bow, 
 The daring horseman on did go — 
 Like dust before the western breeze. 
 Quick he vanished 'mong the trees, — 
 Like wild roe, far from hunter's ken, 
 Up dashed Macgregor through the glen, 
 And safely there his prize did hide 
 On rugged Glenny's northern side. 
 
The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 FROM STIRLmO TO INCHMAHOME. 
 
 The dock had tolled the death -knell of April; the last 
 echoes of Spring had just been thundered from the steeple 
 clock, and had died away amid the dark recesses of the 
 town; it was still; naught was heard save the tread of the 
 lonely sentinel, or the wail of the tawny owl as it floated 
 around the Castle rock; the night watchman at the station, 
 with muffled form and lamp in hand, had just signalled 
 the last train of the night, and as it dashed through the 
 gloom, snorting like some mighty steed, with a tread like 
 the roar of thunder and eyes of flame, you heard its shrill 
 scream, like the cry of the wild eagle, sending its echoes 
 far among the Castle rocks, till the Abbey Craig whispered 
 back the sound. We mused on the past, and smilingly looked 
 on toward the future. We had made up our minds for 
 a week at the Port, and although not in actual possession, 
 still in a great measure we were enjoying the beautiful 
 reality. In fancy we were climbing the hill, rambling 
 through its ferny glens, or catching the finny tribe in the 
 silvery waters of the lake. Early on the morning of the 
 ist May, we could be seen, basket on back and fishing-rod 
 in hand, pacing the platform of Stirling station, anxiously 
 awaiting the ringing of the last bell. " Long looked for 
 comes at last : " no sooner had the last bell given its first 
 
From Stlrlbig to Lichmahome. 113 
 
 tinkle, than my companion plunged into a first-class car- 
 riage — I, of course, following hard at his heels — placing 
 ourselves under the care of " old Hugh." All now seems 
 bustle and animation — porters running with luggage, passen- 
 gers taking their seats, while the bang of the carriage-doors 
 lends music to the scene. Suddenly the short " All right!" 
 sounds in our ears, a sharp, shrill whistle is heard in front, 
 while the clankling of the couplings tells us we are on the 
 road; and in the twinkling of an eye we are sweeping 
 round the Castle rock and entering the rich Carse of Stir- 
 ling. As we roll past, we look on the old grey face of the 
 Castle, and think of the changes — the fetes and the fights 
 that have ever and an^n been enacted on its summit, since 
 the Roman Eagle first spread her wings on its bald head! 
 Onwards dashes the locomotive; and as we look out of 
 the carriage window, we can see the smoky spires of 
 Stirling fast dying in the distance. On our right rolls the 
 sluggish Forth; and Craigforth, that proud usurper of the 
 Pass, rears its head in the morning sunshine. On our 
 left stretches the dark hills of Touch and Boquhan; and 
 as our eyes scan their rocky face, we see the falcon hunting 
 after his morning meal. Approaching Kippen, we get a 
 glimpse of the famous glen of Boquhan — famous in tradi- 
 tional and historic lore, and 
 
 " Where to the skies 
 The riven rocks fantastic rise." 
 
 By-and-by, we reach the Port of Monteith station, and 
 instantly we are out on the platform. The train disap- 
 pears, and we hear its hollow sound dying in the distance, 
 like the echoes of distant thunder. We are now left to 
 
TI4 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 ourselves; and v/e look around us on the prettiest of all 
 country stations. We gaze on the flowers and the green 
 fields, with the dark blue hills beyond, 
 
 " Lending enchantment to the view." 
 
 The dark green woods at our side are loud with the din 
 of birds, as they pour forth their morning songs of praise. 
 Happy native! — let him ^* bless his stars." Away from the 
 din and turmoil of the city, he roams a free subject of the 
 woods and fields! Here nothing disturbs the quiet serenity 
 of Nature, save the thundering of the " iron horse," or the 
 wild whistle of the locomotive. We pass on our v/ay to 
 the Port, where the road is beautiful and every foot is 
 classic. Half-a-mile from the station we pass the old 
 bridge of Cardross, famous in prophecy and tradition. 
 Near to it is the place where Rob Roy crossed the Forth 
 with his stolen steed, when pursued by a troop of dragoons. 
 Near to it, also, in days of yore, stood the '•'■ Ferry Inns," 
 in which Prince Charles Stuart refreshed himself, or, as 
 some say, slept a night, when on a visit to Buchanan of 
 Arnprior. Near to it, also, is the gentle flowing spring 
 of the once far-famed '' Gout Well of Cardross." On the 
 left hand side of the road there is a considerable knoll, 
 from the top of which we have a beautiful view of the sur- 
 rounding country. We see the Forth roll on in queenly 
 pride, while on her downy banks graze the sober cattle. We 
 pass the Lodge of Cardross, and, farther on, the hamlet of 
 Dykehead, which boasts of a school, a smithy, and wright's 
 shop. Children are playing at the school-door, the joiner 
 grating away at his bench, while the clank of the smith's 
 
Fro?n Stirling to IjichmaJwmc. 115 
 
 hammer lends a chorus to the rustic scene. The road in 
 front of us is beautifully shaded with stately oaks, skirted 
 on the right by the well-kept grounds of Cardross. On our 
 left is a dark forest, some miles in length; and we can see 
 the simple roe bounding for protection far amid its dark 
 recesses. Here we get a beautiful glimpse of the Hill of 
 Glenny, its top rising high above the trees, as if it threatened 
 to stop our northward passage. We now reach the seques- 
 tered and romantic cottage of Tomavhoid (or Courthill), 
 where, in days long gone by, the neighbouring lairds sat 
 in final judgment on the offending wretches of their estates. 
 We look around, and our eye rests on a hoaiy ash, sending 
 its grey branches wide to the breeze, whose old boughs 
 served the purpose of our new-fashioned scaffolds, when the 
 rustic native of the cottage performed the part of modern 
 Calcraft. Our thoughts wander back some hundred years; 
 imagination paints the assembled throng, — the proud laird, 
 with sullen and merciless face, wielding the sceptre of his 
 relentless feudal power — the pitying looks of his attend- 
 ants, as they turn their eyes to gaze upon the fellow-mortal 
 on his way to the drop; — ay, methinks I see the poor 
 culprit, as he kicks high and dry upon the branch! But 
 why fatigue the imagination with scenes like these? Feudal 
 days are past, the court has vanished, and the mark of the 
 rope has disappeared. 
 
 Leaving Tomavhoid, we have a beautiful, varied, and 
 interesting view of the Lake of Monteith and surrounding 
 country. To the left we get a fine prospect of the west 
 Grampians — Ben-Lomond keeping watch and ward over 
 nether land, with an outstretching plain of cultivated fields. 
 
ii6 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 dark forest, and barren moor between. In front are the 
 green knolls of Inchie — the lake and the blooming heath- 
 clad hills of Monteith beyond. On our right are the 
 mansions of Rednock and Blairhoyle, embosomed among 
 fine old trees are the famous Moss of Flanders. Around it 
 the historic Gudie rolls smoothly along. Beyond are the 
 sunny braes of Ruskie, with the dark outline of the Ochils 
 in the distance. Passing Inchie House, the scene deepens, 
 and the sight becomes charming. The lake, with all its 
 loveliness, bursts upon our view. On the south side of 
 the lake we get a glimpse of Lochen House, surrounded 
 by stately trees — the pleasure-grounds skirting the water. 
 Farther on, we see the romantic Arnmauk covered with 
 her dark waving pines, and stretching her long arm far 
 into the deep; — attempting to shake hands with the isle. 
 In the background we see the mansion of Gartmore, with 
 the dark fir hill beyond. Farther north, we see the rugged 
 pass and scattered crags of iVberfoyle. We pass on; our 
 eye dazzles with the beauty of the landscape, our mind is 
 pleased with the calm grandeur of the scene, our soul is 
 filled with instruction, and we are anxious to get to the 
 hotel. And as we walk along the lake's pebbled shore, 
 and gaze upwards, onwards, and around, beauty skirts us on 
 either side. On our right are the wooded slopes of Red- 
 nock, where the creeping fern entwines itselfwith the green 
 moss, and the "" blue bells of Scotland" fill the air with 
 their fragrance. On our left lies the silvery waters of the 
 lake, with Inchmahome resting on its bosom, and the blue 
 heavens and grey towering clouds mirrored in its glossy 
 surface. The sea-gull skims along its bosom; the wild 
 
From Stirling to Inchmahome. 1 1 7 
 
 swan spreads her wings to catch the floating zephyr; while 
 the cormorant feeds among the reeds. We see the osprey, 
 as the noble bird soars above the waters, eyeing some 
 sportivepike, and pinioned in mid air, as if transfixed between 
 the heavens and the earth; then, with a swoop like a flash 
 of lightning, he disappears below the blue waters, and again, 
 with triumphant scream, soars away with the finny prey 
 to his mate on yonder rock. Before us stands the church, 
 the mausoleum of the house of Gartmore, and the grave- 
 yard, where the native dust in peace reposes. The beau- 
 tifully situated hotel; the neat manse, ensconsed among 
 trees; behind, the hill of Glenny, bursting high up suddenly 
 from the plain, where, like some aged sire with wrinkled 
 face and bald head, he stands, 
 
 " The guardian angel of the lake." 
 
 The dark firs that clothe its front contrast beautifully 
 with the brown heath upon its summit. We enter the hotel; 
 lounge on the sofa, puff" our Havannah, sip our sherry, and 
 order a boat to convey us to the island. We are taking 
 a Ust whiff, and giving orders for dinner, when the door 
 gently opens, and an old Celt, doffing his bonnet, politely 
 informs us that he is waiting to row us to Inchmahome. 
 We gaze upon the form before us; we mark his grey hairs 
 and weather-beaten brow, brown as the heath on his na- 
 tive Mondhuie. My companion mutters '' Can this be the 
 boatman^" We are almost afraid to place ourselves under 
 his care, or risk a voyage in his tiny barge. But as he 
 walks before us to the shore, we see something in his gait 
 and manner which convinces us that he is no ordinary 
 
I T 8 The Lake of MonteitJi. 
 
 boatman; and, with feelings of confidence, we take our seats 
 by his side, and soon find that we are under the charge 
 of a true son of the Graeme,'^ and that the spirit of that 
 ancient clan fills the old man's bosom, while its blood flows 
 pure in his veins. We have just been seated, when we 
 find his m^emory fresh with all the legendary tales and 
 fairy incidents of his cherished vale, while he is deep 
 read in historic lore; and as, with clutched oar and bent 
 back, the eager old man pulls on through the blue waters, 
 he points us to the pass, where, in days gone by, their 
 native Glenny vomited forth her warrior sons on the red 
 hosts of Cromwell, and, like the mighty avalanche from 
 the brow of yonder hill, crushed the invaders. He points 
 us also to Portend's craggy glen, where, rock built on rock, 
 it raises its riven head far in mid air, and, with ragged face, 
 shattered brow, and tottering form, stands 
 
 " Nodding o'er the cavern grey." 
 
 He tells you of its deep pools and tumbling waterfalls, and 
 of the rare ferns that clothe its banks and adorn its sides. 
 Behind we see Bendhu, with blue head and' barren face, 
 its bare rocks glancing in the summer sun. On the lake's 
 reedy margin we see the feathered steep of the Cowden, 
 through the shadows of the noble oaks that clothe its side, 
 deep in the blue waters. But ere we have half surveyed 
 the grandeur of hill and glen, our boat strikes the landing- 
 place, and we turn to gaze on the varied glories of Inch- 
 
 * The venerable Mr. Hugh Graham, Gatesidc, Port of Monteith, the respected 
 representative of the ancient Grahams of Mondhuie, and to whom the author is 
 h.ighly indebted for the tradition of the "Earl's Niece," &c. Parties visiting the Lake 
 should call on Mr. Graham, and they will find he can " preach without a paper." 
 
From Stirling to Inchmahome. 119 
 
 mahome, as they loom before us in the huge and hoary 
 wreck that stands with skeleton form, the monument of the 
 zeal of our early fathers; or in the noble trees that shoot 
 their giant antlers high in the breeze. We spend the after- 
 noon among the sacred relics of the Priory and Queen's 
 Garden, and then return to spend the night at the inn. 
 
 We are astir early in the morning; we find the weather, 
 as it always is at the Lake of Monteith, clear and beautiful; 
 and as we look out of our bed-room window, we gaze 
 on a landscape of placid beauty, the fairest our eye has 
 ever beheld — a landscape famous in history, poetry, and 
 romance. Before us stand the grand old Highland hills, 
 their tops clear, but the grey mist crawling along their 
 boggy sides, here and there tinged with the golden rays of 
 the summer sun, and throwing a few dark shadows deep 
 into the waters. We see the lake in all its loveliness, 
 with the ruins of Inchmahome looking through the hoary 
 branches that adorn the isle — the isle which kings and 
 queens delighted to honour with their presence — the isle, 
 once the birth-place of earls, the home of royalty, the 
 favourite resort of monarchs, the safe retreat of queens. A 
 shallop, with oars ready, lies beneath our window, and we 
 see the sea-fowl playing over the blue waters. The hill and 
 the lake are alike tempting, and we now begin to discuss 
 whether we shall storm the hill, or launch out on the lake and 
 enjoy the glorious sensation of hooking some greedy pike, 
 or inhale the mountain's balmy breeze. We soon decide. 
 To-day, the hill is clear and robed in sunshine; to-morrow, 
 that rampart of Nature may be wrapped in its misty mantle, an d 
 the golden tints of to-day be chased away by to-morrow's 
 
TJie Lake of MonteitJi. 
 
 sweeping blast. We discuss breakfast; fill our flasks with ^' the 
 real naked truth," as our kind hostess termed it, and which, 
 I dare say, might have the advantage of ^^ never seeing a 
 gauger;" and soon we are marching up the hill. Before 
 us stands the place where Rob Roy, one hundred years 
 ago, dashed up the hill with his foaming steed, while being 
 pursued by a troop of English dragoons. We ascend the knoll 
 on which it is said he stopped to rest the noble animal, and 
 gaze back on his pursuers, as they swept round the lake like 
 a whirlwind, and came on like a rolling flood. We fancy 
 we see the outlawed chief making preparations for the final 
 effort. As the eagle, high on yon dizzy cliff, plants his 
 wings before making the final dart upon his victim, Macgre- 
 gor plants his knees and his rowels firm into his horse's 
 sides, and, with a few terrific plunges, each like the swoop 
 of the falcon, the hero chief vanishes over the summit. We 
 hurry on up the rugged slope of Glenny, where, 
 
 " With crown of heath and brow of stone, 
 Crockmelly rears her head alone; 
 And watching o'er the inlet brake, 
 The guardian angel of the lake." 
 
 The hill is already fresh with the glories of summer, and 
 as we ascend its fern-covered sides, and climb its breck- 
 an braes, we breathe the heather gale, and inhale the 
 fresh mountain breeze, balmy as it ever floats around Mon- 
 teith, and see the creeping moss clinging to the jutting 
 rocks, By-and-by we reach the summit, and after taking 
 " a refresher," we gaze downwards and onwards. A scene 
 intensely interesting meets our view. We will not compare 
 it with the bold sweep, as seen from the towering top of 
 
r From Stirling to Inchmahome. 121 
 
 Ben-Nevis, or the gorgeous display of Highland grandeur as 
 witnessed from the princely summit of Ben-Lomond, but for 
 variety of Highland and Lowland scenery, heathy hill and 
 wooded dale, lowland lake and mountain stream, is unsur- 
 passed by any of the lesser hills in Scotland. Around you, 
 on either side, behind and before, lie the scattered glories 
 of Monteith. In front you look down on the valley of the 
 Graeme, behind we gaze far back on the country of the 
 Macgregor. To the south we see what was once an ice- 
 bound ocean, now a lovely valley, watered with rivers, 
 adorned with lakes, studded with trees, dotted with man- 
 sions, beautified with glens, clothed with their native ferns, 
 hushed to slumber mid the din of waterfalls. Before us 
 lies the Lake of Monteith, with its three isolated islands 
 resting on its bosom like specks on a vast mirror; the quiet 
 country highway winds along the shore, like a huge native 
 adder in its coil, cooling its poisoned tongue in the silvery 
 rivers. To the east we scan a long and wide tree-shaded 
 country. Our eye ranges the carse of Stirling, and rests on 
 the Castle rock, while far beyond we trace the dark outlines 
 of Edinburgh Castle mingling with the distant sky. To 
 the west we see Aberfoyle's classic hills and glens. To 
 the north we gaze far back on the country of Clan-Alpine — 
 a country famous for the deeds of its sons, and the glories 
 of its scenery — a country famous for the exploits of kings, 
 the home of Rob Roy, the birth-place of Roderick Dhu. 
 We look around us, and at once fourteen Highland lakes 
 burst upon our awe-struck view. Many of those mountain 
 tarns repose amid the seclusion of their native hills, so 
 sheltered by the heathy mountains, that the hurricanes of 
 
The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 winter never disturb, nor the zephyrs of summer kiss their 
 waters. Before us on the north lie Lochs Vennacher and 
 Achray, the road from Callander to the Trossachs winding 
 along the shore, while the huge form of Ben-Ledi towers 
 beyond. We see the wood-adorned summits of the Tros- 
 sachs, Loch-Katrine up among the hills, with Glengyle 
 and the misty tops of Balquhidder in the background. 
 As we look around on the Highland country, and admire 
 the glories of the Creator's works, as they stand before us 
 in the grey mountain, sink deep in the rugged glen, 
 stretch out in the green valley, or dip amid the placid 
 waters, our mind wanders back to the marauding charac- 
 ter of its inhabitants, when the hardy natives of the hills 
 and glens learned only to handle the bow and studied 
 nothing but the sword; and oft has the heath on this 
 mountain side been dyed by the blood of those who 
 fell in the fierce conflicts between the Macgregors and 
 the Grahams, in the days of the war cry and fiery cross. 
 Those days are now gone, and as we look around on the 
 peaceful scene, we think of the change since the wild boar 
 roamed through its marshes, and the wolf growled deep in 
 its caverns — since the wild cry of the war-chief was heard 
 from the hill, or saw him return with his trophies. There 
 was a time, and that not long ago, when the blood-hound 
 tore the Macgregor, and the eagle fed on his carcase. Ay, 
 we fancy we can see the blood-bespattered beast, as he 
 returns from his fell mission, snuffing the fresh breeze or 
 lapping his gory fangs; or hearken to the mountain raven, as 
 he perches on, and picks the eyes out of the fallen victim, 
 when that brave but ill-used and unhappy clan was hunted 
 
From Stirling to Inchmahome. 123 
 
 like foxes among their covers, and stalked like deers on 
 their loved native hills. But those scenes have passed away. 
 The cottagers of the glens and the natives of the hill-sides 
 alike dwell in security — their sons are trained to industry, 
 and their daughters spring up like mountain daisies, born to 
 blush unseen. The howl of the blood-hound gives place 
 to the bleating of the lamb; and the voice of the war-chief 
 finds an echo in the herdman's pipe, or the song of the 
 shepherd's daughter. True, the flocks may yet be startled 
 by the inroads of the fox or the cry of the black eagle, as 
 the king of birds sweeps over the grey mountain, away to 
 his home among the dizzy cliffs. 
 
T24 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 DOING ABERFOYLE— BY A GLASGOW TOURIST.* 
 
 Looking out for a new route is the " look out" of every 
 tourist who has been regularly *^ doing" the Highlands, 
 season after season, as the writer has done for some years; 
 and as each successive summer rolls past, the difficulty 
 becomes more and more great of finding some new and 
 interesting district of country, alike interesting to the 
 invalid, the tourist, the geologist, and antiquarian. Permit 
 me, then, Mr. Editor, to inform my brother tourists that 
 such a route has, by the kind liberality of one of the most 
 liberal hotel proprietors in Scotland, just been opened to 
 the public, and almost by mere accident. I, one day at 
 the end of last week, had the unbounded pleasure of being 
 driven through it at ^^ Jehu" speed. Having seen, in one 
 of the Forth & Clyde Railway time-tables, that I could 
 leave the City at 9.35 a.m., reach Port of Monteith station 
 at 11.20, and "do" the Lake of Monteith, Aberfoyle, Loch- 
 Ard, Loch-Chon, Inversnaid, and Loch-Lomond, returning 
 to Glasgow at 8 p.m., and all for " sixteen bob," it struck 
 me as something " decidedly new." Determined to make 
 a trial of the new route, on the morning of Saturday last I 
 found myself at Port of Monteith station, exactly at 11.20; 
 
 * Written for the Glasgow Herald, July, 1865. This route is not open beyond 
 the Lake of Monteith this season, i866. 
 
Doing Aberfoyle, 125 
 
 and after surveying the prettiest of all country stations, I, 
 along with a few other passengers, mounted the coach and 
 took my seat beside " Willie," as I heard some of the rail- 
 way officials term the driver. We were scarcely seated, 
 when onwards plunged the noble steeds, at a rate little 
 short of " the limited mail;" and I had not proceeded far 
 when I found our driver the most civil and agreeable com- 
 panion I had ever sat beside. Being a native of the district, 
 his mind was well stored with the traditions of the country, 
 and rich in historic lore. About half a mile from the 
 station you cross the Forth, when he points you to the place 
 where the great Rob Roy crossed the river with his prize 
 when on a horse-stealing excursion in Strath-Endrick. He 
 also points you to the place where, in days gone by, there 
 stood the " Ferry Inns," in which the young Pretender slept 
 a night when visiting his friends in Monteith. Near this 
 also flowed the spring once so famous for curing the gout. 
 The road in front of you is beautifully shaded; on the right 
 are the well-kept grounds of Cardross, and on your left dark 
 green forests some miles in length,where you may see the roe 
 bounding far ben among its dark recesses. On your right 
 stands a sequestered little cottage, with a row of large trees 
 at the back; and Willie tells you that is the old " hanging 
 hill" of Cardross; while he points you to a hoary ash, whose 
 boughs used to serve the purpose of our new-fashioned 
 scaflbld, when the rustic native of the hut acted the part 
 of our modern Calcraft. He now tells you to look before 
 you, and a scene the most dazzling your eyes ever beheld 
 bursts upon your view. One glance of your eye, and you scan 
 forest, field, lake, and mountain, all fresh with the glories 
 
126 TJie Lake of Monteith. 
 
 of summer, spread out before you. As you sweep past 
 the green knolls of Inchie, and the road wmds close to the 
 Lake of Monteith, this charming sheet of water increases 
 in loveliness. The waters are smooth as glass, and clear 
 as the crystal stream, contrasting beautifully with the green 
 fairy islands that repose upon its bosom. Inchmahome, 
 the largest of the islands, contains the ruins of the earliest 
 Augustinian monastery in Scotland, the still existing ruins 
 bearing proof of its once ancient grandeur. This island 
 is also famous as the early burying-ground of the great 
 feudal chiefs of the district, and for having been some 
 time the residence of Mary, Queen of Scots; when she often 
 played with her *' four Marys," and planted the " Boxwood 
 Bower," which still remains, bearing the name of the maiden 
 queen. As you sweep round the northern side of the 
 lake, you get a fine view of the historic hill of Glenny, 
 clothed with its green firs, contrasting beautifully with the 
 brown heath upon its summit. Willie here points you to 
 the place where Rob Roy galloped up the hill with his 
 stolen steed, and to the knoll where he halted to rest his 
 fleet prize, and gaze back on his pursuers as they swept 
 round the lake like a whirlwind, and came on like a rolling 
 flood. Here the " Grahams of Glenny" rushed down their 
 native passes, like avalanches from the mountain, on Crom- 
 well's army in the year 1653. You are now rolling past the 
 most southern portion of the great Grampian range; and 
 Bendhu, with barren face and heath-covered head, rises on 
 your right. Here you are told to look back and take a 
 long last look of the placid loveliness of Monteith before 
 entering the stern glories of Aberfoyle; and as you pass 
 
Doing Abcrfoyle. 127 
 
 through its scattered crags, and defile among its shattered 
 hills, you feel an awe-stirring sensation rising within you; 
 but, ere you have time to think or reflect, Willie rattles up 
 to the door of the far-famed " Bailie Nicol Jarvie." Here 
 a pair of fresh horses are got, and during the unyoking pro- 
 cess you have plenty of time to step into the inn and have 
 your tumbler, where you will find everything of the best, with 
 most prompt attendance. Leaving the inn, the scenery be- 
 comes more and more interesting. On your right rises Craig- 
 more, with rugged face and bald head, the falcons floating 
 round its summit, and the wrecks of a thousand ages at 
 its base. At your feet, the Avondhu rolls over its rocky 
 bed; and on your left lies the historic Duchray, with its 
 grey castle and hoary strongholds, its " ivy mantled " 
 turrets and dark dungeons, its rocky passes and ferny 
 glens. After passing " the Clachan," at a high turn of the 
 road, the finest sight of this intensely interesting locality is 
 to be had. Loch-Ard opens beautifully to the view; you 
 see the silvery waters of the loch dazzling in the noonday 
 sun, and around its varied charms. You see its feathered 
 banks and heath-capped knolls; its rising hills and deep 
 gorges; with the frowning Ben-Lomond looking down on 
 the scene below. As you roll on through woods and 
 meadow lands, and emerge from the thick shades of the 
 silver birches, the whole loch gradually opens to the view. 
 Here Willie points you to Rob Roy's cave, where the great 
 freebooter sometimes spent a night when hard pressed. 
 Here there is a fine echo, and you can yet hear the gruff 
 voice of the great native war chief issuing from the crags. 
 Here also you will see the rock, the scene of the collision 
 
The Lake of Mojiteith. 
 
 between the Macgregors and the redcoats; and you canfancy 
 you hear the hysteric laugh of Helen Macgregor, as she 
 gazes on the " bubbles " that dance on her victim's grave. 
 Here also you are rolled under the roots of the tree that 
 caught hold of the Bailie's riding coat, and dangled him 
 between the heavens and the earth. Near the western 
 shore of the loch you see Duke Murdoch's island, 
 where tradition says he spent his last night on earth, 
 having been taken from there to Stirling on the morning 
 of his execution. On the north side of the loch, and 
 near its upper extremity, is the famous waterfall of Le- 
 dard, noted by the great novelist in both " Rob Roy " and 
 " Waverley." After this, for some distance, you find the 
 road partaking considerably of the up-and-down style; 
 but never mind that, Willie can rattle over it like Jehu 
 of old; and as you near Loch-Chon, he points out to 
 you Rob Roy's well, and near it a cattle-lifter's grave. 
 You find Loch-Chon grander than Loch-Ard, but not 
 so extensive or famous. Looking down from the top of 
 the coach you fancy the loch to be some hundred feet 
 below you, with several small islands resting on its still 
 waters. The islands are the favourite resort of otters; 
 and amid the crags of the high hills that tower beyond 
 the native wild cat lingers still. Here you get a beautiful 
 view of the top of Ben-Lomond opening wide its yawning 
 jaws. You are now nearing the road from Inversnaid to 
 Loch-Katrine, and you get a fine sight of the latter, with 
 the surrounding hills and " the braes of Balquhidder" in the 
 distance. You pass, on your left, the small loch, Arklet, 
 on whose banks the fair heroine Helen Macgregor, the 
 
Doing Aberfoyle. 129 
 
 wife of Rob Roy, was born. Approaching Inversnaid, on 
 your right, and on a commanding eminence, stands the 
 remains of the once famous garrison of Inversnaid, erected 
 by Government in the year 1718 to overawe the clan 
 Gregor. Before you, in grand magnificence, rise the hills 
 of Loch-Lomond, and on your left flow the dark waters of 
 the Arklet over its wild and rugged bed, until it tumbles, 
 amid wild grandeur, into the bosom of Loch -Lomond. 
 You have now reached Inversnaid — you are in rare trim 
 for dinner, and you find you have just as much time as 
 perform that important operation before the steamer calls 
 to take you on to Glasgow. At Inversnaid you find every- 
 thing in the highest possible order; and to your kind and 
 intelligent host you are indebted for the opening up of the 
 Monteith and Aberfoyle route — a route which, for the 
 grand variety of its scenery, " stands alone in its glory," 
 and but for him it would have remained almost unseen 
 and unknown. 
 
1 30 The Lake of Motiteith. 
 
 CARDROSS— ITS MOSSES— THEIR AGE 
 AND TREASURE. 
 
 The ancient and fine estate of Cardross is beautifully- 
 situated in the centre of that most charming of all charm- 
 ing districts, the district of Monteith. On either side lies 
 stretched the luxuriant plains, teeming with Nature's glo- 
 ries, and hallowed by historical and traditional associations. 
 Around it the hills rise, the glens dip deep, lakes repose, 
 and rivers roll their dark waters. The serpentine Forth 
 pursues its sluggish course for miles through and around 
 its southern marches, the silvery waters of the Lake of 
 Monteith, and the historic Goodie, wash its northern 
 boundaries, while the heath-capped Grampians throw their 
 shadows over it. 
 
 The historical and traditionary associations that linger 
 around its ancient walls, where sage king sat and youth- 
 ful queens frolicked; its noble park, with its grand old 
 trees, spreading wide their hoary arms, and rearing high 
 their antlered heads; its well-kept garden, clad with down 
 and rose; and the waveless loch, where the swan with 
 zephyr-ruffled wing floats proudly along, and the heron, 
 springing from the reedy inlet, tend to make it, to the 
 historian, the traditionist, and Nature's worshipper, one of 
 the most interesting estates in the kingdom. 
 
Cardross. 131 
 
 Cardross, in Gaelic, signifies " The Fort on the Promon- 
 tory." It was originally a Roman station, and on each 
 side of the mansion-house can yet be seen the old Roman 
 pathway. During the great historic period, Cardross was 
 the haunt of many of the greatest men in Scottish history. 
 King Robert Bruce spent some time here, between the 
 time of his coronation and the battle of Bannockburn; and 
 one account says he slept in the house the night previous 
 to his great victory. Some historians state also that the 
 renowned king died here; but that event, I am inclined to 
 think, happened at Cardross in Dumbartonshire. Bruce's 
 sword is still carefully preseiTed in Cardross house, and 
 this extraordinary weapon is traditionally stated to have 
 been left by Bruce on one of his visits. Whether or not it 
 belonged to the hero-king can never be correctly known, 
 but there can be little doubt that it is a sword of the 
 period. It measures over all 6 feet 2 J inches, blade 4 
 feet 7 1 inches, breadth at hilt 2 J inches, and weighs no 
 less than 10 lbs. 
 
 George Buchanan, the great Scottish historian, spent his 
 boyhood on the estate of Cardross. George's father having 
 died in early life, the family was taken in charge by James 
 Heriot, their maternal uncle, who leased two farms from 
 the Earl of Mar for behoof of the widow and family. The 
 lease, dated and signed, is still preserved among the Car- 
 dross papers. John, seventh Earl of Mar, along with 
 James VI., was afterwards educated by George Buchanan. 
 Rather curious that the King of Scotland and an earl's 
 son should be educated by an orphan boy, the son of a 
 tenant on Cardross estate! Queen Mary was a frequent 
 
132 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 visitor at the house, during the time she resided with her 
 guardians on the island of Inchmahome. 
 
 Cardross was garrisoned by a detachment of Cromwell's 
 army after the battle of Aberfoyle, in 1653; and here Gen- 
 eral Monk issued an order to the Earl of Monteith to cut 
 down the woods of the Glashard, as they gave great pro- 
 tection to the royalists, and also to raise men to guard the 
 passes of Monteith and Aberfoyle. He collected from his 
 estate ^^ forty-two" Grahams, who were known in the dis- 
 trict as the "forty-twa," or ''the black watch." The men 
 were never disbanded, and this was the original foundation 
 of the now distinguished '' forty-second " regiment. The 
 original order is still preserved among the Monteith papers 
 at Gartmore house, and is signed George Monk. 
 
 The renowned Marquis of Montrose garrisoned Cardross 
 for a short period, and an interesting original letter of his 
 was discovered by the present proprietor, when searching 
 for material for this article. " Prince Charlie," during the 
 rebellion of 1745, and while on his route from the north to 
 Stirling, called at what was then known as the '' Ferry Inn," 
 and partook of some refreshment. Near this was the once 
 celebrated " Gout Well," the waters of which were famed 
 for curing the gout. During the palmy days of this inn, 
 the well was regularly visited by numbers of cripples who 
 were affected with that disease; but whether the " impotent 
 folk" drank of the well, or waited for the " moving of the 
 waters," I have been unable to determine. One thing, 
 however, seems certain, that after the present bridge was 
 built, and the inn demolished, believers in its virtue be- 
 came " small by degrees and beautifully less," and now 
 
Car dross, 133 
 
 the crystal spring gurgles over the primrose bank unheeded 
 and unknown. 
 
 Cardross is also celebrated as being the traditional scene 
 of the old "tragical ballad" of "Sir James the Rose" and 
 " Matilda Erskine." The tragedy is supposed to have 
 been enacted some short time after the battle of Flodden, 
 and during the time the estate was held by the Buchan 
 family. 
 
 About thirty years ago, when levelling the ground for 
 an artificial flower garden, at the south-west corner of the 
 mansion-house, a very considerable quantity of human 
 bones were discovered, and only a very short space 
 below the surface. Whether or not these were the remains 
 of Matilda and her lovers, is now beyond being set at rest, 
 but all things considered, they certainly give a strong 
 colouring to the old and interesting tradition. 
 
 On Cardross estate lies a large tract of that remarkable 
 deposit called " Flanders Moss," which extends from 
 the village of Gartmore to a point opposite the village of 
 Thornhill, embracing in extent some thousands of acres, 
 and varying from five to twenty feet in depth. Graham of 
 Duchray, writing in the year 1724, says the moss extended 
 from the hill of Gartmore to "within two or three miles of 
 Stirling, on both sides of the Forth." The persevering in- 
 dustry, however, of a century and a half since the laird 
 of Duchray wrote, and the last fifty years of that period — 
 fraught with all that science and modem ingenuity could 
 invent — have told its wonders, as the beautiful and fertile 
 Carse of Stirling now shows. On Cardross alone several 
 hundred acres of the very finest land have been reclaimed, 
 
134 The Lake of Monfeith. 
 
 now yielding to the landlord from one to two pounds 
 an acre, whereas his ancestors failed to realise as many 
 farthings. 
 
 The whole level tract of country extending from Stirling 
 to the heath-clad Lennox moors, was no doubt at one 
 period a large inland lake, and that lake the last declining 
 remnant of a great ice-bound sea, which has left its traces 
 in the grooved and smooth surface of the rocks of our hills 
 and lake shores. That this district of country was covered 
 with water, and navigable by the early inhabitants, is abun- 
 dantly proved by the discoveries of the remains of ancient 
 canoes. Some time ago a very perfect specimen of a canoe 
 was discovered under the moss beneath the village of Gart- 
 more; and in 1724 there was, at the Firhill of Gartmore, 
 a stone with a large ring in it — at that time called the 
 ^' Clachnan Loang," or the '^ Ship or Boat Stone " — and 
 traditionally said to have been used for the purpose of 
 boats or ships making fast. 
 
 The vulgar traditions regarding this moss, its name and 
 origin, are rather amusing. One of these is, that it floated 
 from Flanders, and hence the name; another is, that the 
 country originally paid taxes to Denmark for the use of 
 the moss, and it was only got quit of through the great 
 sagacity of George Buchanan, the historian, threatening the 
 authorities there, that if the tax was not cancelled the moss 
 would be immediately returned. Whether the great histo- 
 rian meant to do this by bringing on a " roarin' spate," I 
 have been unable to determine. Many and conflicting are 
 the theories propounded regarding the age, origin, and 
 composition of this moss. One sort of popular idea is, that 
 
Car dross. 135 
 
 it is the wreck of ages, gathered by overflowing rivers, and 
 washed down by storms from the hills and higher grounds, 
 and lodged in the valleys beneath. My own opinion, how- 
 ever, is of a different character; and from a somewhat 
 intimate knowledge of the district, borne out by minute 
 inquiries of those who have spent long and laborious lives 
 in clearing away the different mosses of the country, I have 
 formed the following conclusions on the matter; but should 
 any of my readers hold opposite views I shall be glad to 
 hear them explained: — 
 
 Considering, then, that this level tract was originally an 
 inland lake, after the gradual subsidence of the water the 
 land would become partially drained, by the water sinking 
 into natural ruts in the clay, and which in a great measure 
 would pave the way for the great and rapid growth of 
 heavy timber which appears to have immediately followed. 
 This timber comprises oak, fir, birch, and hazel — chiefly 
 the former as large wood, and the latter as underwood. 
 On the farm of Parks, on the estate of Cardross, there 
 seems to have been a considerable quantity of fir. Previous 
 to the invasion of Scotland by the Romans, this formed 
 part of the great " Caledonian Forest," and was cut down 
 by the Roman army to drive the Caledonians from their 
 retreats. This is abundantly proved by the Roman roads 
 found on the clay, and in the neighbourhood of their camps. 
 Many of the tree roots bear the marks of the axe as com- 
 plete as they did nearly two thousand years ago, and con- 
 siderable numbers the marks of fire; while some have been 
 discovered around which were small stones, as if children 
 had been at play. In consequence of the great masses 
 
136 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 of cut timber, and the natural softness of the soil, there 
 could be no cultivation, if such a thing at that early period 
 existed in Scotland; but, sheltered by the fallen trees, and 
 nurtured by a salubrious climate, vegetation grew rank and 
 strong; and as the seasons came and went, and years rolled 
 on, the tall coarse grass sprung up, grew, and died, and as 
 lair after lair fell and rotted, it added, however slowly, so 
 much to the gradually increasing substance; and now, after 
 the lapse of about two thousand years, we have that great 
 mass of decayed vegetable matter called " moss." 
 
 To a sharp and experienced eye, each year's growth can 
 be distinctly traced for several feet. At my request, a 
 friend of mine made two different calculations of its ap- 
 parent age, and the system followed was this: — He first 
 took a part of the moss of an average depth, and carefully 
 examined the lairs as far as possible; then, if a certain num- 
 ber of feet or inches gave so many years' growths, how 
 many did the whole depth give? The first result was 
 something more than eighteen hundred years, the second 
 about twenty-one. 
 
 The "water of Guidi," now viilgarly called Goodie, which 
 flows out of the Lake of Monteith, and washes the northern 
 boundary of this moss, joins the Forth a little beyond its 
 present termination, was anciently a lake, and in many old 
 writs is styled the " Loch of Guidi," and on its bank stood 
 the ancient Pictish city " Guidi." Here, in the eighth cen- 
 tury, the Picts were attacked and routed by the Scots. The 
 Scots in their turn were overpowered, and their country 
 overrun by the Danes, who very naturally would introduce 
 Danish names and customs, and there can be no doubt 
 
Car dross, 137 
 
 but the name "Flanders' Moss" is a corruption of some 
 Danish word with which we are not famiHar. The reve- 
 rend editor of the " History of StirHngshire," says it derives 
 its name from the Danish " Flyn," a flat — " Flynder," a flat 
 fish, &:c. 
 
 Many interesting and valuable relics have been dis- 
 covered under this moss. Graham of Duchray says, there 
 was found in the year 1723, in the Forth, near Cardross, 
 a large bone, between six and seven feet long, one foot 
 three inches thick, and one foot one inch broad. He 
 also mentions the discovery of some immense horns — so 
 large that a farmer used one of them as a foot-bridge over 
 a syvre between his barn and byre. Two years ago, when 
 cutting the moss to the east of the house of Cardross, what 
 appeared to be the skeleton of a horse was brought to light, 
 and at a depth of about fourteen feet below the surface. 
 The bones were completely '^mossised," being perfectly 
 black, and were nearly all destroyed before being observed, 
 part of the skull alone having been saved, which is now 
 in the possession of a gentleman of antiquarian tastes. 
 Beside the skeleton lay an entire hazel wand, which 
 crumbled away on being exposed to the air. The fact of 
 the stick would suggest the idea that man was present at 
 the death. Not long ago part of an untanned cow-hide, 
 with portions of hair adhering, was found on the clay be- 
 neath the moss on the estate of Cardross. 
 
 The most important and interesting discovery, however, 
 made in this moss, was the laying bare, a few years ago, 
 in the " Colniemoien" portion of it, of an ancient native 
 encampment, made after the present gipsy fashion. The 
 
 K 
 
1 3 8 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 different articles were found on the clay soil underneath 
 several feet of solid moss, the ribs of the tent or camp be- 
 ing still fixed in the clay. Their number could be counted, 
 and the round shape of the abode easily distinguished. 
 Adjoining the encampment were a considerable quantity of 
 bones completely blackened, and which crumbled away on 
 their exposure. Near it also was found an iron hammer, 
 with a round ring at the end for attaching to the girdle : 
 hammers of this kind were carried for close-quarter fighting. 
 In the immediate neighbourhood of the encampment were 
 discovered several pieces of peculiarly dressed wood, which, 
 when fitted together, made a complete and ingenious arm- 
 chair. Whether this was a Roman or native Caledonian 
 " tent " it is now impossible to tell. I should think, how- 
 ever, it is more likely to have been the abode for the time 
 being of a native family, and possibly attacked by invaders. 
 The fact of the bones would suggest this, they having all 
 the appearance of human bones — in all likelihood the re- 
 mains of the inhabitants of the " tent." On the other hand, 
 the make of the hammer would lead us to believe that it 
 had belonged to a party considerably advanced in science, 
 above what the natives of that early period could be ex- 
 pected to be. A great number of Roman roads have been 
 laid bare from time to time under this moss; these, how- 
 ever, are generally observed in the vicinity of their ^'peels" 
 or encampments, and frequently passing between one 
 camp and another, and across the low marshes between 
 two higher grounds. The most perfect of these, in this 
 quarter, stretches from a camp which stood on the farm 
 of East Garden, under the moss, on Park's Farm, and 
 crosses the Forth below the house of Cardross. 
 
The Erskines of Cardross. 139 
 
 THE ERSKINES OF CARDROSS. 
 
 In trying to get at the foundation or origin of the illus- 
 trious name of Erskine, we must go far hack in the dark 
 and misty track of history, and plod, inch by inch and foot 
 by foot, the mazy pathway; we require to shake the dust 
 off, and search the time-worn volumes that record the ex- 
 ploits of heroic individuals, the deeds of great families, and 
 the ups and downs of nations for well nigh a thousand 
 years; and even then it is lost in dim antiquity. No house 
 in Scotland — no family, either living or extinct — has given 
 more sons to the camp, or produced men more eminent as 
 statesmen, distinguished as lawyers, or will be more remem- 
 bered in the flowery walks of literature, than the ancient and 
 honourable house of Cardross. For hundreds of years this 
 family have held, in a remarkable degree, the confidence of 
 their various sovereigns; so much has this been the case, 
 that few monarchs have reigned during the great historic 
 period, without some of its members holding confident and 
 exalted positions around the throne. In the country where 
 their beautiful estate is situated, they have ever been ad- 
 mired as possessing a true benevolence, a warmness of 
 heart, and depth of friendship, combined with a liberality 
 of sentiment, adorned by a meek humility, that spread a 
 lustre over all their other accomplishments; and these latter 
 
I40 The Lake of Montdth. 
 
 gifts have descended, in a singular degree, to the present 
 esteemed representative. 
 
 The origin of the name is traditionally assigned to the 
 time of Malcolm the Second. At the battle of Murthill, 
 a Scotch gendeman, by his daring and bravery, captured 
 and decapitated Enrique the Danish general, and rushing 
 towards the king with his dagger thrust through the hide- 
 ous object, brandished it in the king's face, exclaiming in 
 Gaelic, " Eris-Skyne," alluding to the deed, at the same 
 time declaring he would perform greater deeds than that; 
 whereupon the king at once conferred on him the surname 
 of " Erskine." Most writers, however, think it probable 
 that they at first derived their name from the barony of 
 Erskine, on the Clyde, the property of the family for many 
 ages; and it is through this line we intend to trace their his- 
 tory, through the Mar family, to the present representative. 
 
 I. Henricus de Erskine, proprietor of the above men- 
 tioned barony, and during the reign of Alexander the 
 Second, was witness to a donation of AmeHc — ^brother of 
 Maldwin, Earl of Lennox — of the patronage of the church 
 of Roseneath. 
 
 II. Sir John Erskine of Erskine, during the latter part 
 of the reign of Alexander the Second, appears to have been 
 proprietor of different lands in Renfrewshire. Johannes 
 de Erskine is witness to a charter of Alexander III., in 
 1252, and another to the monastery of Paisley, by Walter, 
 Earl of Menteith, of the church of Colmonell, in 1262. 
 He left two sons, John and William. The latter obtained 
 from his father a portion of land in Ayrshire, and confirmed 
 by the superior, James, High Steward of Scotland. 
 
The Erskines of Car dross. 141 
 
 III. John Erskine of Erskine, the eldest son, submitted 
 to Edward I. of England. He left one son. 
 
 IV. Sir John, who does not appear to have been in any 
 way distinguished. He had issue, one son (Sir William) 
 and three daughters — ist, Mary, married first to Sir Thomas 
 Bruce, brother of the renowned King Robert I.; he was 
 taken prisoner by the English, and put to death; and she 
 married, secondly. Sir Ingram Morville. 2d, Alice, mar- 
 ried to Walter, High Steward of Scotland. 3d, Agnes, 
 married to Sir William Livingston of Livingston. 
 
 V. Sir William, the only son, succeeded his father. He 
 was a man of great bravery, and companion of the renowned 
 Randolph, Earl of Moray, and the gallant Sir James Dou- 
 glas. He accompanied the expedition into England in 1327, 
 and for his valour was knighted under the royal banner. He 
 died in the year 1329, leaving five sons, ist. Sir Robert. 
 2d, Adam Erskine, of Barrowchan. 3d, Sir Allan, who 
 had charters of the barony of Inchture in Perthshire, and 
 Crambeth in Fife; and also held from King David II. the 
 office crownarship of Fife and Fithyf. 4th, Andrew, who 
 was granted, by King David II., with the crown lands of 
 Raploch, near Stirling, in 136I. 
 
 VI. Sir Robert Erskine of Erskine, the eldest son, who 
 appears to have been a man of most distinguished talents 
 and accomplishments, and has rendered his name illustrious 
 in his country's history. He early espoused the Brucean 
 interest, by attaching himself to the High Steward and other 
 friends of King David IL, in opposition to the Baliol party, 
 and was highly instrumental in its success. He was, by 
 David IL, appointed constable, keeper, and captain of Stir- 
 
T42 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 ling Castle. He was appointed great chamberlain of the 
 kingdom in 1350, and was one of the ambassadors to the 
 court of England, to treat for the ransom of King David, 
 after his capture in the battle of Durham. He also success- 
 fully brought about a truce between the two nations; and 
 so great had he the interest of his prince and country at 
 heart, that he gave his eldest son as an hostage for the 
 payment of the ransom of his sovereign's deliverance. In 
 1358, he was appointed ambassador to the court of France, 
 and ratified the alliance with that kingdom at Paris on the 
 29th June, 1359. He was five times sent on public business 
 to England, between 1360 and 1364. He held the ofiice 
 of great justiciar north the Forth; and on the 17th of May 
 1360, he presided at a solemn treaty upon the banks of that 
 river, near Stirling, between the Drummonds of Drymen 
 and the Menteiths of Ruskie. He was warder of the marches 
 and heritable sheriff of Stirlingshire. He was also one of 
 the Barones Mayores, who, in 131 1, ratified Robert Stewart's 
 succession to the crown; assisted at that monarch's coro- 
 nation, and did homage to him at Scone. From this mo- 
 narch and his predecessor he received extensive grants of 
 land, viz. — Kinnoul, Malerbe, in Perthshire, Adamtoun in 
 Ayrshire, and Kirkintilloch in Dumbartonshire. He was 
 allowed twelve chalders of oatmeal out of the lands of 
 Bothkennar, and two hundred merks sterling, annually, for 
 the support of the castle, &c. Combined with his many 
 accomplishments, he appears to have been possessed of a 
 deep religious feeling, for we find him giving in " puer alms" 
 to the monastery of Cambuskenneth, the patronage of the 
 church of Kinnoul, with the lands of Fintalloch, in Strath- 
 
The Erskines of Car dross. 143 
 
 earn, " for the health of himself and Christian Keith, his 
 wife, while they lived, and the welfare of their souls after 
 death." He died in the year 1385, and at his death 
 Scotland lost one of her brightest ornaments. He mar- 
 ried, first, Beatrice Lindsay, of the house of Crawford; 
 and secondly. Christian, daughter of Sir John Menteith 
 of Ruskie. He had issue by the former only, ist. Sir 
 Thomas, his successor; 2d, Sir Nicol, who was an ancestor 
 to the Erskines of Kinnoul, in Perthshire, and which branch 
 terminated in an heiress, who was married to Chrichton of 
 Sanquhar, during the reign of James II.; 3d, Allan; and 
 two daughters, the eldest of whom married Drummond 
 of Concraig, and the youngest, Sir Walter Oliphant of 
 Aberdalgy. 
 
 Sir Thomas Erskine, who was one of the hostages for 
 the ransom of King David II., in the year 1357, succeeded 
 his father in the year 1385. He was a gentleman of the 
 greatest accomplishments and worth, and only a little less 
 brilliant as a statesman, and useful to the nation, than his 
 distinguished father. He succeeded his father as Gover- 
 nor of Stirling Castle; and, in 1384, he was appointed am- 
 bassador to England to treat for a promulgation of the truce 
 between the two countries. That same year the English 
 made a predatory excursion into the Frith of Forth, but 
 were encountered by Sir Thomas and his brother Sir Nicol, 
 and severely routed near North Queensferry. 
 
 In the year 1392 he was again, and during the reign of 
 Robert III., sent ambassador to the court of England, 
 and by that monarch he is styled " My dear relation." 
 He held the charters of the barony of Dun, in Forfarshire, 
 
144 The Lake of Moiiteith. 
 
 and Alloa, in Clackmannan. He married Janet, daughter 
 of Sir Edward Keith, Marischal of Scotland, and had issue 
 two sons and two daughters. 
 
 1. Sir Robert, his successor. 
 
 2. Sir John, who obtained from his father the barony 
 of Dun, and was ancestor of the Erskines of Dun, as also 
 of Erskine of Brechin, who, during the reign of James V. 
 became Secretary of State, 
 
 His daughters, Elizabeth and Christian, married Wemyss 
 of Leuchars and Haldane of Gleneagles. 
 
 Sir Robert took a prominent part in the battle of Homil- 
 don, and had the misfortune to be taken prisoner. Some 
 time after his release, he was appointed one of the 
 commissioners to treat for the release of James I. in 142 1; 
 and in 1424 he became one of the hostages for his ransom. 
 His annual revenue at that time was valued at ^^1,000 
 merks." He was released from captivity on the 19th June 
 1425; and on the death of the Earl of Mar, ten years later, 
 he claimed that earldom, and assumed the title of Earl of 
 Mar. He married a daughter of the Lord of Lorn, and 
 had issue one son and two daughters. 
 
 Thomas, his successor. 
 
 His daughter Janet married her relation Walter Stewart 
 of Lovenax, second son of Murdoch, Duke of Albany, and 
 who was executed at Stirling on the 24th May 1425, the 
 day before the execution of his father and grandfather. 
 
 Elizabeth married Sir Henry Douglas of Loch-Leven. 
 
 Thomas, the first Earl of Mar of the name of Erskine, 
 succeeded his father in the year 1453; but in 1457 he was 
 by the assise of error dispossessed of the earldom, but held 
 
The Ersk'mcs of Cardross. 145 
 
 a charter of the lands of Dalnotter in Lennox. In the year 
 1458 he was employed m matters connected with the State, 
 and was one of the guarantees of a treaty with the English. 
 In 1467 he sat in Parliament, and took an active part in 
 the cause of King James III. against his subjects, although 
 previous to that time it appears that James had deprived 
 him of his heritable right to keep the Castle of Stir- 
 ling. 
 
 He was married to Lady Douglas, daughter of the Earl 
 of Morton, and granddaughter of King James I. By her 
 he had issue one son and three daughters, viz. — 
 
 Alexander, his successor. 
 
 Elizabeth, married to Sir Alexander Seton of Touch. 
 
 Mary, who married Sir William Livingston of Kilsyth. 
 
 Muriela, married to the Second Earl Marischal. 
 
 Alexander, second Lord Erskine, appears to have been 
 a man of considerable influence. He had the charge of 
 the youthful King James IV., and was a great favourite 
 w^ith that monarch ever afterwards. He was sworn a Privy 
 Councillor, and appointed Governor of Dumbarton Castle. 
 He founded a chaplaincy in the church of Alloa for the wel- 
 fare of the souls of King James III. and Christian Crichton, 
 his deceased spouse, and for the health and prosperity of 
 King James IV., himself, and Helen Home his then wife — 
 (very charitable objects.) He received extensive grants of 
 lands, and held the charters of the lands of Balhoghirty in 
 Aberdeenshire, the lands of Nisbet and Douglas in Rox- 
 burghshire, the barony of Alway, the lands of Bernhills and 
 Aulands, &c. &c. 
 
 He had married, first, a daughter of Sir Robert Crichton 
 
146 The Lake of Monteith, 
 
 of Sanquhar; and second, the eldest daughter of the first 
 Lord Home. He had issue by the former only, viz. — 
 
 I. Robert. 2. Alexander. 3. Walter, who was proprie- 
 tor of Over Donnotars. i. Christian, married to Sir David 
 Stewart of Rosyth. 2. Agnes, married to Sir William Men- 
 teith of Carse. 
 
 Robert, third Lord Erskine, does not appear to have been 
 a man of great talent or note, as we do not find him occu- 
 pying any very high position, or filling any situation of great 
 responsibility; farther than in 1506 he was made Sheriff 
 of Stirlingshire, and in 15 13 fell with his sovereign at the 
 disastrous battle of Flodden. He married the eldest 
 daughter of Sir George Campbell of Loudoun, and had 
 issue five sons and four daughters, viz. — 
 
 I. Robert, who died young. 2. John. 3. James, who 
 held the charter of the lands of Little Sauchie. He was 
 ancestor of the Erskines of Balgony, and of William Erskine, 
 Bishop of Glasgow (who was knighted by King James IV.), 
 and grandfather of Janet, the countess of William, Earl of 
 Stirling. 4. Alexander, who appears to have been a clergy- 
 man. 5. William. 
 
 The daughters were — -Catherine, married to Alexander, 
 second Lord Elphinston; Margaret, married first to Hal- 
 dane of Gleneagles, second to George Home of Lundies 
 and Argaty; Elizabeth, married to Sir John Forrester of 
 Torwood; and Janet, married to John Murray of Touch- 
 adam. 
 
 John, fourth Lord Erskine, succeeded his father in 15 13, 
 and like many of his illustrious ancestors, was one of the 
 great men of his time. In 1 5 1 5 he was, by the Estates of 
 
The Erskines of Cardross. 147 
 
 the kingdom, appointed ambassador to the court of France, 
 for tlie purpose of endeavouring to get Scotland included 
 in the French treaty with the English nation. Immedi- 
 ately after his return from the French capital, he was 
 appointed governor of Stirling Castle, and intrusted with 
 the high honour of the keeping of his young sovereign. 
 King James V. In this delicate and difficult situation, he 
 acquitted himself so much to the satisfaction of the monarch 
 that he was high in the royal favour ever after. In 15 17 
 he was one of the guarantees of a treaty with the English, 
 and appointed constable and captain of the Castle of Stir- 
 ling, and keeper of the King's Park, &c. In 1535 he was 
 again appointed ambassador to France, for the purpose of 
 arranging a marriage for his royal master. In 1539 he was 
 constituted one of the extraordinary Lords of Session; and 
 being present at the King's death, was, along with the Earl 
 of Montrose, directed to remain continually with the young 
 Queen in the Castle of Stirling. In 1545 Lords Erskine 
 and Livingston were appointed keepers of the Queen's 
 person; and after the disastrous battle of Pinkie (1547), 
 they retired with their fair charge to the island of Inchma- 
 home, on the Lake of Monteith, where they remained till 
 the end of February of the following year, when they set 
 sail from Dumbarton for France. In France he is said to 
 have discharged his high and difficult duty with the greatest 
 fidelity and prudence. Dying in 1552, he left extensive 
 estates. He manied Lady Margaret Campbell, daughter 
 of the Earl of Argyll, by whom he had issue: — 
 
 I. Robert, Master of Erskine, who married Lady Mar- 
 garet Graham, eldest daughter of the second Earl of Mon- 
 
1 48 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 trose. He was taken prisoner at Solway in 1543, but was 
 ransomed for two hundred pounds, and was afterwards 
 killed at the battle of Pinkie. He had no legitimate issue, 
 but a natural son by Mrs. Jean Home, who was commentator 
 of Dryburgh, and ancestor of the Erskines of Sheffield. 
 
 2. Thomas, Master of Erskine, who was ambassador to 
 England. He was married to Margaret, daughter of Lord 
 Fleming, the Chamberlain of Scotland, but by her he had 
 no family. He had a natural son, who was commentator 
 of Cambuskenneth, but died before his father, in 155 1. 
 
 3. John, who succeeded his father. 
 
 4. Sir Alexander Erskine of Gogar, ancestor of the Earls 
 of Kellie. 
 
 5. Sir James Erskine of Tullibody. 
 
 1. Elizabeth, who married Sir Walter Seton of Touch. 
 
 2. Margaret, who had a natural child to James V. viz. 
 James, Earl of Moray, Regent of Scotland. 
 
 John, fifth Lord Erskine, was a man of transcendant 
 genius. He held many high offices, and was remarkable 
 for disinterestedness, love of country, and attachment to 
 Protestantism. Being a younger brother, he was trained 
 to the Church; and, previous to his father's death, he 
 had been appointed by King James V. commentator 
 of Cambuskenneth and Inchmahome. On coming into 
 possession of the title and estates, he also succeeded to 
 his heritable offices, and to the government of Edinburgh 
 Castle. During the troublous times of the Queen Regent, 
 he maintained a strict neutrality, by standing aloof from 
 either party. On the advance of the English in 1560, the 
 Queen committed herself to his lordship's protection; and 
 
The Erskines of Cardross. 149 
 
 on the return, in the following year, of the young Queen 
 Mary from France, his lordship was sworn a Privy Coun- 
 cillor, and restored to the ancient title of Earl of Mar, 
 and accordingly took his seat in Parliament as representing 
 the most ancient earldom in the kingdom. On the birth 
 of King James VI., the Queen mother committed her 
 infant son to the keeping of the Earl of Mar, who resigned 
 the Castle of Edinburgh to the Bothwell party, and retired 
 to Stirling Castle. In 157 1, when the Regent Lennox was 
 surprised and killed at Stirling, it was only through the 
 prompt and decisive character of Mar that the King's 
 party were saved from utter annihilation. Immediately 
 after this great achievement he was chosen Regent of 
 the kingdom, and this important trust was conferred on 
 him for " his moderation, his humanity, and his disinter- 
 estedness." On finding himself in possession of this high 
 and difficult office, he set himself with all the ardour of his 
 mind to allay the different contending factions, and to free 
 his beloved country from the influences of foreign councils. 
 For a time he seemed eminently successful, but the vile 
 Morton thwarted his views. The ambition and selfishness 
 of Morton and his associates made a deep impression 
 on the Regent's mind, who longed for peace and the 
 full prosperity of his country; and this grief bringing on 
 a settled melancholy, he died of a broken heart on the 
 29th October 1572. Thus passed away for the time one 
 of Scotland's most gifted sons—whose mind was too pure 
 and heart too large for the age in which he lived. He was 
 married to Annabella, daughter of Sir William Murray of 
 Tullibardine, and had issue : — • 
 
150 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 John, his successor; and 
 
 Lady Mary,who married Archibald, eighth Earl of Angus. 
 
 John, seventh Earl of Mar, was a man of great talent 
 and education, having been trained along with King James 
 VI. by the celebrated George Buchanan, and was high in 
 royal favour ever after. In 1595, he was intrusted with the 
 keeping and education of the King's son; in 1601, he 
 was appointed English ambassador; and, on the death of 
 Queen EHzabeth, he completed the arrangements for the 
 succession of the Scotch monarch to the English throne, 
 in 1603. In that year he accompanied his sovereign to 
 England, but was obliged to return to arrange with the 
 Queen regarding the keeping of her children. After ap- 
 peasing the Queen, he again set out for England, to join 
 his royal master; and immediately on his arrival in London 
 he was sworn a Privy Councillor, created a Knight of the 
 Garter, and became Secretary for Foreign Affairs; and on 
 the 17th December 161 5, the King delivered to him the 
 " white staff," appointing him High-Treasurer of Scotland. 
 Previous to this, about the year 1604, King James, anxious 
 to confer some permanent mark of honour on his dis- 
 tinguished subject, created him Lord Cardross, with power 
 to assign the title to any of his heirs male; and from the 
 Parliamentary records it appears in the Parliament held at 
 Perth, 1 9th July 1 606, " Act of erection of the Abbey of Dry- 
 burgh and Cambuskenneth and Priory of Inchmahome into 
 a temporal lordship, called * the lordship of Cardross,' in 
 favour of the Earl of Mar — with the honour, estate, dignity, 
 and pre-eminence of a free Lord of Parliament, to be called 
 Lord Cardross in all time coming." Some time before the * 
 
The Erskincs of Cardross. 151 
 
 year 161 7, he built the principal suit of apartments in 
 Cardross House; and when the King came to Scotland in 
 that year he visited Lord Cardross, at Cardross House, 
 where he was entertained for some days with the greatest 
 respect and magnificence. This great statesman died at 
 Stirling in the year 1634, in the 77th year of his age. His 
 lordship married, first, a daughter of the second Lord 
 Drummond, by whom he had issue one son, John, who 
 succeeded to the earldom of Mar. He married, secondly, 
 Lady Mary Stuart, second daughter of the Duke of Lennox, 
 her ladyship having a charter of the lands of Fintry and 
 Buchlyvie. By her he had issue four sons — ist, James, 
 who married Lady Mary Douglas, Countess of Buchan, and 
 was created Earl of Buchan; 2d, Henry Erskine, to whom 
 his father assigned the peerage of Cardross; 3d, Sir Alexan- 
 der Erskine, a colonel in the army, and who had the mis- 
 fortune to be blown up at Dunglass, along with his unfor- 
 tunate brother-in-law, the Earl of Haddington,, in 1640; 
 and 4th, Sir Alexander Erskine of Alva. 
 
 In a life of this illustrious man, written by the Earl of 
 Buchan, there is rather a curious anecdote told relating to 
 his second marriage. It appears that the Earl, although 
 one of the most advanced men of his time, had been some- 
 what superstitious, and had listened to the nonsense of an 
 Italian conjuror, who had shown him the limning of a lady, 
 whom he said resembled Mar's future sweetheart and coun- 
 tess. Mar, it seems, had been in love with the daughter of 
 Lennox, and fancied he saw her likeness in the portrait ex- 
 hibited by the Italian. Fearing disappointment, and hearing 
 that the King intended her for another, his Lordship wrote 
 
152 The Lake of Mo7iteith, 
 
 a touching letter to his royal master, couched in the most 
 plaintive language, stating that his health had begun to fail 
 through the fear of losing the object of his affections. The 
 King, it is said, visited his old class-fellow, and said — " Ye 
 shana dee, Jock, for ony lass in a' the land," and accord- 
 ingly secured for him Lady Mary Stuart. Portraits of this 
 distinguished man and his celebrated lady are still preserved 
 in Cardross House, along with that of the Treasurer's father. 
 
 Henry Erskine, the second son of the Earl of Mar, by 
 his second marriage, to whom the peerage of Cardross was 
 assigned, with the reservation of his father's life-rent, having 
 died before his father, never possessed the title. He held 
 charters of the ecclesiastical lands of Maxtown and Les- 
 sudden, in Roxburghshire, and in which he is designed 
 *^ fiar of Cardross." He was married to the only daughter 
 of Sir James Bellenden Broughton, and had issue: — 
 
 David, second Lord Cardross; and Mary, married to Sir 
 John Buchanan of Buchanan. 
 
 In one respect, the peerage of Cardross stands unex- 
 ampled in the history of the Peerage, inasmuch as the King 
 conferred upon a subject the right to create another peer, 
 which has never been done in any other instance. 
 
 David, second Lord Cardross, succeeded his grandfather 
 in the year 1634, and became vested in the title of Cardross. 
 He appears to have been a man of considerable note, and 
 took a prominent part in many of the nation's affairs. At 
 Newcastle, in 1646, he protested, with a few more peers, 
 against the delivering up of King Charles I. to the English 
 army; he was one of the promoters of the engagement in 
 1648, for which he was fined in one thousand pounds, 
 
TJie Erskincs of Cardross. 153 
 
 besides losing his seat in Parliament. He died in the year 
 167 1. He married, first, Anne, fifth daughter of Sir Thomas 
 Hope of Craighallj and had two children — Henry, third 
 Lord Cardross; and Margaret, married to Cunningham of 
 Boquhan. His lordship married, secondly, Mary, youngest 
 daughter of Sir George Bruce of Carnock, and sister of the 
 Earl of Kincardine, and had issue seven children: — i. 
 Hon. Alexander Erskine, who appears to have died young. 
 2. Hon. Colonel William Erskine, who was a man of 
 the greatest integrity and honour. He was proprietor of 
 the estate of Torry, and governor of Blackness Castle. He 
 married a daughter of Sir James Lumsdain of Innergelly. 
 His son William was a person of considerable note, having 
 been a colonel in the army, and distinguished himself 
 at the battle of Fontenoy, where he commanded the 7th 
 regiment of dragoons. 
 
 3. The Hon. Colonel John Erskine of Cardross, known 
 among his friends as " the Black Colonel." The Colonel 
 was distinguished for his zeal in the high cause of religion 
 and liberty, and for which he suffered keen persecution, 
 and was compelled to retire into Holland. In Holland 
 he had the command of a company of foot; and at the 
 Revolution of 1688 he accompanied the Prince of Orange 
 to England. He was ever afterwards a great favourite 
 with the Prince, who made him Governor of Stirling and 
 Dumbarton Castles. He represented the town of Stirling 
 in the last Scottish Parliament, was a keen supporter of 
 the Union, and one of the Members nominated to the 
 first united Parliament of Great Britain in 1707. At the 
 general election in 1708, he was again re-chosen to repre- 
 
 L 
 
154 The Lake of Montdth, 
 
 sent the town of Stirling. He died at Edinburgh in 1742, 
 in the eighty-second year of his age. He was four times 
 married, and was father of John Erskine of Carnock, Advo- 
 cate, author of that valuable work, '' Erskine's Institutes 
 of the Law of Scotland." 
 
 4. The Hon. Charles Erskine, who was killed at the 
 battle of Steinkirk in 1692. 
 
 The daughters were Veronica, married to Lockhart of 
 Kirktown; Magdalen, married to Alexander Monypenny 
 of Pitmilly; and Mary, who died young. 
 
 Henry, third Lord Cardross, succeeded his father in 
 167 1. He was a man of the most pure principles and 
 exalted worth, having received a highly religious education. 
 Trained in the broad principles of truth and liberty, he 
 early joined himself to the opposers of the Earl of Lauder- 
 dale's Administration; but, for his adherence to the cause he 
 had so much at heart, he was subjected to the most keen 
 and cruel persecution, and in 1674, for his lady hearing 
 her own chaplain preach in her own house, he was fined in 
 the modest sum of " five thousand pounds." In May of 
 the following year, while absent in Edinburgh, a party of 
 soldiers came to Cardross during midnight, plundered the 
 house, and subjected Lady Cardross to the most barbarous 
 usage. In August of the same year he was, for his adher- 
 ence to the cause of truth, sentenced to be imprisoned in 
 Edinburgh for the period of four years. In 1677 he was 
 again fined on account of his lady getting her child baptised 
 by a person not her own parish minister, notwithstanding 
 his Lordship being then in prison and not allowed to look 
 after his affairs. In 1677 his estates in East Lothian were 
 
Tlie Erskines of Cardross, 155 
 
 plundered by the King's troops. In July of the same year 
 his Lordship was released from prison on granting a bond 
 for the amount of his fine. Not being able to obtain any 
 redress from the Privy Council of Scotland, his Lordship 
 repaired to North America, where he was only a little more 
 fortunate — a colony which he founded having been de- 
 stroyed by the Spaniards. He left America, and, joining 
 the Prince of Orange party in Holland, he accompanied 
 the Prince to England, where he was appointed to the 
 command of a troop of dragoons. He was afterwards 
 a great favourite with King William, was sworn a Privy 
 Councillor, and constituted General of the Mint, &c. He 
 died at Edinburgh in May 1693, in the 42d year of his age. 
 He married a daughter of Sir William Stewart of Kirkhill, 
 and had issue: — 
 
 1. David, fourth Lord Cardross. 
 
 2. Hon. Charles Erskine, Advocate. He married the 
 heiress of Scott of Redenshead, in Fife. 
 
 3. Hon. William Erskine, Governor of Blackness Castle. 
 He married Margaret, daughter of Colonel Erskine, Gover- 
 nor of Stirling Castle. 
 
 4. Hon. Thomas Erskine, Advocate. He married Rachel, 
 daughter and heir of Liberton of Liberton. 
 
 The daughters were — i. The Hon. Catherine Erskine, 
 who married Sir William Denholm of Westershields, in the 
 county of Lanark. 2. Hon. Mary Erskine, who married 
 James Nimmo, Esq., Cashier of Excise. 3. Hon. Anne 
 Erskine, who married Edmonstone of Duntreath. 
 
 David, fourth Lord Cardross, succeeded his father in 
 1693. Like most of his predecessors, he took an active 
 
156 The Lake of Mo7iteith. 
 
 part in State affairs, was a true Protestant, and took a deep 
 interest in the Hanoverian succession. About the year 
 1698 his Lordship succeeded to the Earldom of Buchan, 
 and was afterwards known under that title. He was a 
 Privy Councillor, and one of the Council of Trade ap- 
 pointed by Parliament in the year 1705. In the all-im- 
 portant question of the Union, his Lordship opposed the 
 material clauses, and lodged his protest accordingly. This 
 action, however, caused his removal from all his Govern- 
 ment offices. When King George I. came to the throne, 
 the Earl of Buchan was made Lord-Lieutenant of the 
 Counties of Stirling and Clackmannan. During the Rebel- 
 lion of 1715 he held the town of Stirling and commanded 
 the Stirlingshire Militia. In the year 1745 his Lordship 
 sold the estate of Cardross to his cousin, John Erskine of 
 Carnock, the Advocate, and author of " Erskine's Insti- 
 tutes," who was the first Mr. Erskine of Cardross and 
 Carnock. This '' distinguished civilian " died at Cardross 
 on the ist March, 1768, in the 73d year of his age. He 
 married, first, Miss Melville, daughter of the Earl of Leven 
 and Melville, and had issue — ^John Erskine of Carnock, 
 D.D., a zealous and distinguished pastor. He married, 
 secondly, Anne, daughter of Stirling of Keir, and had issue 
 four sons and two daughters : — 
 
 1. James Erskine, who was the first " Mr. Erskine of 
 Cardross." 
 
 2. Robert Erskine, who died in the East Indies. 
 
 3. David Erskine, who was a Writer to the Signet, and 
 of great eminence in his profession. 
 
 4. Major Erskine of Venlaw, in Peebles. 
 
The Erskines of Cardross. 157 
 
 The daughters were: — i. Marion, died unmarried; 2. 
 Christian, who married Sir WilHam Stirhng of Ardoch. 
 
 James Erskine succeeded his father in the estate of Car- 
 dross, and died there on the 27 th March 1802. He mar- 
 ried Lady Christian Bruce, Second daughter of the Earl of 
 Kincardine, and had issue: — 
 
 1. John Erskine, an officer in the E. L C. service, and 
 who died at Angole in 1792. 
 
 2. William Erskine, who died young. 
 
 3. Charles, who commanded the gallant 9 2d Regiment 
 in the expedition to Egypt, under the renowned Sir Ralph 
 Abercromby, and was mortally wounded at the landing of 
 the British troops near Alexandria. 
 
 4. David Erskine of Cardross. 
 
 5. James, an officer in the Royal Navy, and who unfor- 
 tunately perished on board Lord Keith's flag-ship, burned 
 in March 1800. 
 
 6. William Erskine, a Major in the 71st Foot, who died 
 in 1805. 
 
 The daughters were: — i. Janet, married to Hay of Drum- 
 melgier. 2. Anne. 3. Marion. 4. Matilda, married to John 
 Graham of Gartur, the last and only cadet of note of the 
 defunct Earldom of Monteith. 5. Rachael Euphemia. 6. 
 Christian. 
 
 David Erskine of Cardross was bred to the profession of 
 the law, and was some time in the civil service of the E. I. 
 C. at Ceylon. He died about the year 1848. He married 
 the Hon. Keith Elphinstone, fourth daughter of John, nth 
 Lord Elphinstone, and had issue: — 
 
 I. James, who was in the civil service at Bombay, but 
 
158 The Lake of Monteith, 
 
 who died before his father, leaving two sons: — i. The 
 present Major Erskine of Cardross. 2. Captain James 
 Erskine, of the Royal Navy. 
 
 2. John Elphinstone Erskine, Admiral, Royal Navy, 
 and the talented author of " The Islands of the Western 
 Pacific," and at present the accomplished M.P. for the 
 county of Stirling. 
 
 3. Charles, a Captain in the Army, but who was unfor- 
 tunately killed by a fall from his horse while serving with 
 his regiment in India. 
 
 4. George Keith, Captain of the ist Lancers, a gentle- 
 man of great accomplishments, and elegant manners, but 
 Avho unfortunately died of small-pox, while serving with his 
 regiment at the siege of Mooltan in 1849. His brother 
 officers raised a beautiful tablet to his memory in the tomb 
 at Cardross. 
 
 5. Hay M. Erskine, an esteemed Clergjnuan. 
 
 6. William Erskine, a Captain in the Bombay Anny, who 
 died, leaving two daughters. 
 
 Henry David Erskine, the present esteemed proprietor, 
 is married to Horatio, daughter of General Seymour, and 
 has two children. 
 
^^Gardm." 159 
 
 "GARDEN." 
 
 Among the many fertile, beautiful, and richly cultivated 
 estates of the county of Stirling, none is more pleasantly 
 associated, nor holds a higher place, than the ancient and 
 interesting estate of Garden. 
 
 The mansion-house is beautifully situated on a command- 
 ing eminence at the foot of the sequestered glen of Arn- 
 gibbon, one of the prettiest retreats in the west of Scotland. 
 The spacious park in which the house stands is carefully 
 adorned with grand old trees, rearing high their princely 
 heads, and spreading wide their giant boughs, that have 
 for ages welcomed the zephyrs of summer, and borne un- 
 scathed the hurricanes of winter, while conspicuous among 
 their fellows stand some of the very finest silver firs in the 
 kingdom. 
 
 The old castle of Garden stood a little to the north of 
 where the present mansion is built, and on a small emi- 
 nence in what was in early times a small lake, but now a 
 fertile meadow. The castle was of the circular tower form, 
 and in feudal days must have been considered impregna- 
 ble, having been surrounded by water, and protected by a 
 draw-bridge. Some distance to the north-west of the old 
 castle was the ^^gallows-hill," where poor offending wretches 
 '' gat the rape;" and, in the memory of some of the oldest 
 
i6o TJie Lake of Monteith. 
 
 inhabitants, there was to be seen a stone with an inscription 
 denoting the felons' names who ignominiously perished. 
 
 The glen of Arngibbon is about two miles in length, and 
 may be termed " beautiful and interesting" rather than 
 grand. The lower portion is finely ornamented with large 
 trees of various kinds; and, farther on, the slopes are 
 covered with fine young copsewood. Here the geologist 
 may explore, the botanist roam, and the naturalist find 
 instruction; while the lover of Nature's beauties can admire 
 the feathered banks that rise around him, and gaze on the 
 fern-covered rocks that overhang his head in shattered 
 masses, the moss and lichen clinging for life and susten- 
 ance to their brown faces — or look at the crystal stream 
 as it tumbles over its rocky bed at his feet; — 
 
 " For o'er thy crags, with sullen roar, 
 The moorland waters loudly pour, 
 Leaping on from rock to rock, 
 Till plunging o'er with sullen shock. 
 It weareth deep the cavern riven, 
 That opes her yawning jaws to heaven." 
 
 In several parts of the glen there are beautiful little cas- 
 cades, the largest one being at the top, where the water 
 from the moorland heights tumbles over a rock about four- 
 teen feet high, forming a delightful pool beneath. Around, 
 the rocks rise to a height of about sixty feet, their faces 
 covered with lichen and fern, and their tops crowned with 
 fantastic roots. At their base the wrecks of ages, torn from 
 their slopes by the suns of summer and the winds of win- 
 ter, lie scattered in the bed of the turbulent stream, washed 
 by the waters of a thousand years. 
 
 By the kind permission of the proprietor, this exquisite 
 
''Gardenr i6i 
 
 retreat is left open to all who use the privilege with pro- 
 priety; and I know of no other place where one can spend 
 a leisure hour or two with more pleasure and profit than in 
 the glen of Arngibbon. Here, in the quiet eventide, you 
 can hearken to the hoarse croak of the raven, as it perches 
 on some giant bough, or view it as it soars in beautiful 
 circles high overhead, or listen to the feathered warblers 
 as they chant their evening hymn, and fill the air with their 
 melodies. You can watch the finny tribe as they sportive 
 play in the pool, walled with granite and paved with rock. 
 You can trace the wanderings of the tawny owl, as it feeds 
 its tender young on yon shelving crag, and again goes a 
 roving after other prey. 
 
 A little above the village of Arnprior stood the old castle 
 of Amfinlay, now completely erased. 
 
 The village of Arnprior is now solely the property of 
 Mr. Stirling of Garden, and the stranger visiting it will not 
 be disappointed. There is a commanding view of the vale 
 of Monteithj and should he wish to see some of "my 
 friends" in their glory, he ought to meet them after their 
 third tumbler, when 
 
 ** It kindles wit, it waukens lair, 
 It bangs us fou o' knowledge." 
 
 Adjoining the village is the beautiful little glen of that 
 name, rendered for ever classic by the residence on its banks 
 of Buchanan of Arnprior, the famous "King o'Kippen," and 
 his descendants. This glen very much resembles that of Arn- 
 gibbon, and need not be described. It is, however, remark- 
 ably interesting, and well repays a visit, the only drawback 
 being that the walks have been allowed to disappear. 
 
t62 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 MONTEITH. 
 
 Alas, Monteith! where's now thy name, 
 Thy ancient glory, and thy fame ? 
 In thee, when reign'd thy halcyon morn, 
 Old Scotia's truest sons were born. 
 Stewart, and Drummond, and the Grseme — 
 Who swelled the foremost ranks of fame — 
 Saw first the light within thy strand, 
 And first brought honour to thy land, 
 When Norway, teeming with her hosts, 
 Launched bearded hordes on Largu's coasts, 
 The Stewart, from their native heath. 
 Led forth thy bravest sons, Monteith; 
 And there, amid the battle tide, 
 Smote the grim Norseman in the Clyde. 
 When Bruce, who hated Edward's sway. 
 Whispered brave Drummond to the fray, 
 From mountain, lake, and river side 
 Burst forth that glorious living tide 
 That, fighting for an empire just, 
 Laid England's legions in the dust; 
 And gave them still a mightier urn 
 In the dread trench at Bannockburn 
 The Graeme — his name is wide and far 
 In deeds of honour and of war, 
 And needs not my poor humble spell 
 To waft his fame, his glories tell; — 
 Suffice it that his spirit still 
 Hallows the lonely lake and hill. 
 But fortune fair has ceased to smile: 
 Gray ruin reigns on every isle! — 
 Talla is now a mouldering dome. 
 Glory has fled from Inchmahome; 
 
Mofiteith, 163 
 
 There's now no smile of monarch there, 
 Nor din of courtiers fill the air; 
 No chieftains meeting, as of yore, 
 Nor sturdy clansmen tread the shore; 
 No march of warriors round Porten', 
 Nor sound of pibroch in the glen. 
 The fiery cross has ceased to fly; 
 No signal on Crochmelly high 
 Doth fling its glare athwart the night, 
 To gather clansmen to the fight; 
 Or tell the men of Aberfoyle 
 That neighbouring clans invade the soil. 
 No sign of strife along the hill; 
 Mondhuie's slopes are quiet and still; 
 No war-cry, heard across yon brake, 
 Returns its echoes from the Lake; 
 No sound of hunters, with the horn. 
 Breaks the soft stillness of the mom; 
 Nor wide the hounds their echoes fling, 
 To start the game from out Milling, 
 Where, deep amid the Claggan dell, 
 The last fierce wolf of Scotland fell; 
 And where, amid thy tangled fold. 
 Brave monarchs chased the deer of old. 
 The fox was killed on yonder steep. 
 The otter in the reedy deep. 
 The stag within the brake was sought, 
 And from Craigvad the wolf was brought. 
 In Calzie muck's deep shades alane, 
 The wild boar stood and shook his mane; 
 And, far among the copse profound 
 He bade defiance to the hound. 
 Till, issuing from the thicket clear, 
 He yielded to the Royal spear. 
 
 But, though those scenes have passed away, 
 And higher honours seen decay, 
 A shadowy grandeur gleams beneath 
 The faded glories of Monteith. 
 The Lake, the glen, the rock, the hill — 
 Monteith, Monteith remaineth still ! 
 Come with me, then: in fancy's flight 
 Be guided to yon heathery height. 
 
164 The Lake of Monfeitk. 
 
 Where nature in her beauty lies, 
 And tell me if its glory dies ! 
 When the red sun has upwards worn, 
 And burst as on creation's morn — 
 When his first ray doth tint the rills 
 That gurgle down the Lennox hills; 
 And finny tribes, deep in the pool, 
 Are sporting 'mid the waters cool — 
 Where moor-cock's cry among the heath 
 Is the lone watchword in Monteith. 
 No smoke ascends from Rednock walls; 
 No voices gladden Cardross halls; 
 Gartmore is silent 'neath the hill, 
 And Auchentroig doth slumber still; 
 No peasant stalks along Garden — 
 Perchance, some smuggler in the glen, 
 With thoughts of awe and secret pleasure. 
 Is watching o'er unlawful treasure. 
 
 The morn has chased the night away; • 
 Now wakens many a bird of prey. 
 The cormorant has left the reeds. 
 And greedy on the lake she feeds; 
 While round her, in their downy coat. 
 Her tender offspring gently float. 
 The wild swan through the free air swings 
 And takes the zephyrs in her wings; 
 Her neck thrown back, with prideful ease 
 She silent sails before the breeze. 
 From jutting crag, the falcon keen 
 Scans with bright eye the hunting scene; 
 His wings he fans; then taking flight, 
 Spies heron in a lonely bight; 
 * But, as he hangs 'tween earth and sky. 
 
 The victim shrinks with fear and cry; 
 A moment crouching in despair, 
 The long-wing'd creatxu'e takes the air. 
 Then down the noble falcon sweeps. 
 Up still the stately heron keeps; 
 Swoop after swoop he tries the game, 
 But ah! brave bird, you miss your aim. 
 Up, and far up, they rise to view — 
 The battle deepens 'mid the blue; 
 
Monteith. 165 
 
 Till to the clouds the prey birds rise — 
 Another swoop — the heron dies! 
 When noble osprey leaves her nest 
 And tender young on yon high crest, 
 And heavenward swiftly soars away 
 Into the brightening dawn of day, 
 She floats beyond the reedy brake, 
 And hovers, fate-like, o'er the lake: 
 Then meteor-like she falls, and lo 
 Her scaly victim feels the blow: 
 Now soaring up, with victor's cry, 
 Triumphant bears the prey on high; 
 And far beyond the hunter's ken. 
 She feeds her eaglets in their den. 
 
 Wake, traveller, from your couch and sweep 
 Fearless around yon rugged steep. 
 Where, with sheer front and crown of stone, 
 Bendarack rears her head alone. 
 Then mark, before your awe-struck eyes, 
 The glories that around you rise ! 
 Turn northward, and before you view 
 The glorious land of Roderick Dhu — 
 A land that, 'mid the fastness green. 
 Of old hid many an outlaw keen. 
 Land of Vich Alpine's daring clan ! 
 The scourge of foemen, and the ban 
 Of cruel tyrants that around 
 Track'd the Macgregor with the hound; 
 Till, springing from the trodden race, 
 A chieftain rose of conquering pace; 
 Whose name sharp time can ne'er destroy — 
 The name and memory of Rob Roy! 
 Gaze westward, and, adorned with rills, 
 Lo, Aberfoyle's gray shattered hills; 
 Ben-Lomond, far above the rest. 
 Rears proudly his imperial crest: 
 Hid oft in clouds from mortal view, 
 Oft shining in the summer blue. 
 See, robed within his morning cloud. 
 Like giant in his ghastly shroud, 
 Ben-Dhu his awful vigils keep. 
 Where Chon's dark waters slumber deep, 
 
1 66 The Lake of Mo7tteith. 
 
 There, quiet amid her reedy home, 
 The prowling otters safely roam; 
 And, guarded 'mid the rocky hill, 
 The native wild-cat lingers still. 
 Beneath the crags in yonder glen. 
 She tends her young within her glen; 
 Then leads them out from day to day, 
 To scour the heather for their prey. 
 Proudly among wild nature's store 
 Stands up thy rugged form, Craigmore, 
 Which, sentry-like, doth watch and ward 
 The secret glories of Loch-Ard; 
 And, like some veteran from the field, 
 Who long hath wielded spear and shield, 
 And only dreameth now of wars. 
 While nature heals his glorious scars; 
 And, resting on his latirels true. 
 He overshadows dark Avondhu. 
 Onward and southward lies the plain: 
 With parks, and trees, and waving grain- 
 As sweet a realm as eye may see 
 In golden land of Arcady. 
 The lake beneath, imtouched by gale, 
 Reposes like a fairy dale: 
 While, stretching onwards in their pride, 
 The Forth and Endrick roll their tide. 
 Dark Forth, from yonder tiny rill 
 Doth gather strength from every hill. 
 Till, flowing through bright links of glee. 
 It swells into a frith and sea. 
 Proud Endrick, from yon mountain crest, 
 Rolleth her stream into the west. 
 Still strengthened by the foaming rills 
 That gurgle from a hundred hills; 
 It whirls along from rock to rock, 
 Then, plunging o'er with sullen shock, 
 It weareth deep yon cavern lone. 
 Where winds and falling waters moan; 
 And, gathering strength from every fen, 
 This silver river sweeps the glen. 
 And, flowing on through field and brake. 
 It leaps into sweet Lomond's lake. 
 
Monteith, 167 
 
 Far onward, in the distant blue, 
 Dumgoyne doth rear his shoulders true, 
 And, like some watchman on the strand, 
 Proudly surveys the nether land — 
 Above each hill and hidden den 
 Watching the wilds of Sochy-glen, 
 (The robber's secret haunt of yore, 
 Still famous in romantic lore.) 
 His giant form doth stand alane 
 The misty guardian of Strathblane. 
 Old Gartmore from amidst her bowers 
 Uplifts to heaven her aged towers. 
 Gartartan, 'mid thy dungeons deep 
 The spirits nightly revels keep; 
 And ghosts of those that went the way 
 When Gartmore barons held the sway. 
 Wander among thy vaults at will. 
 And haunt thy dismal chambers still. 
 There's yet the "pin" amid the gloom 
 That sent the felons to their doom; 
 And, hanging on the mouldering walls, 
 The hellish tackling still appals.* 
 Lo, eastward, wreathed like the main. 
 The mist is rolled along the plain; 
 While in the strath each knoll and tree 
 Seem islands in a lonely sea; 
 And yonder, like some distant sail 
 Craigforth breaks through the misty veil; 
 While Stirling, with her head on high, 
 Holds converse with the summer sky; 
 And far beyond, amid the blue, 
 Proud Sal'sbury Crags crown up the view. 
 
 Come, wander with me on the shore 
 Where evening shades the landscape o'er; 
 The vernal day has gone to rest; 
 The heavenly orb sinks in the west; 
 The mist is lingering o'er the fen, 
 The night-hawk cries within the glen; 
 
 * In the memory of some of the old parties of the district, the " gibbet-pin" and 
 some other of the items required for " neck - twisting" adorned the old walls of 
 Gartartan Castle. 
 
1 68 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 The shepherd boy the flaming brand 
 Displays within his tiny hand, 
 And in a moment, at his will, 
 With fire and smoke enwraps the hill: 
 From neuk and corry brightly glare 
 The fiery tongues that lap the air — 
 On, on and up it spreads with ease 
 Its broad red wing upon the breeze. 
 The pe asant lad doth wander then 
 To meet his mistress in the glen; 
 And as he slowly stalks along, 
 The shepherd's daughter chants her songr 
 Which on the balmy zephyr floats, 
 In every grove are heard the notes: 
 They echo sweet along the fell 
 And whisper backward from the dell, 
 And as they touch his ear again, 
 Enraptured stands the love-sick swain. 
 When evening doth succeed the day. 
 The moon has chased the sun away, 
 And from the east doth upward rise, 
 And in her sweet course floods the ski es; 
 While little starlets in her wake 
 Reflect their glories in the lake ; 
 Then, all alone, oh! take the oar. 
 And push your boatie from the shore, 
 And steering through the waters, guide 
 Your shallop o'er the rippling tide, 
 Till, at yon fairy point you land, 
 Then pace along the islet strand, 
 And in a sweet poetic swoon 
 View the calm ruins by the moon. 
 In gloomy form, 'tween earth and skies, 
 The dark monastic ruins rise. 
 Go wander round the crumbling walls, 
 And peer into the roofless halls. 
 With fairy step then gently creep 
 To where the ancient heroes sleep, 
 And as the gate doth backward roll 
 A silent awe will fill thy .soul, 
 And tell thee thou should'st lightly tread 
 In presence of the sacred dead. 
 
Monteith. 169 
 
 Around those early heroes rest 
 These sculptured stones upon their breast, 
 To tell the wanderer of their fame, 
 Their ancient lineage and their name. 
 Beneath yon slab, with warrior crest, 
 The noble Drunimond's ashes rest. 
 Buckled in his good sword and shield, 
 The hero trimmed for battle-field- 
 Trampling the lions valiantly. 
 His coat of arms the surging sea. 
 Perchance the moon her shadow throws 
 Where Stuart and his spouse repose — 
 Calm, arm in arm the man and wife 
 Lie sculptured to the very life — 
 Her arm beneath his head doth rest. 
 His hand is gloved upon her breast — 
 Sleeping upon one pillow there. 
 How sweetly rest the wedded pair! 
 Around thee lie great men of fame. 
 The sons of many a " gallant Graham," 
 Who led the van, and won with might 
 The palm of many a gory fight: 
 Though dead beneath these tablets hoary, 
 They live, they live in Scotland's story! 
 
 M 
 
1 7 o The Lake of Monteith, 
 
 THE STIRLINGS OF GARDEN. 
 
 In every country and in every district there are certain 
 families of distinction — those grand old landmarks of so- 
 ciety that more or less adorn every country. In times of 
 war and trouble, the clansmen and followers would gather 
 around them for advice, to resent an insult or to repel an 
 invader; and in times of "peace and plenty," headed by their 
 chief, they would assemble round the festive board and social 
 cup, and there cement the bond of union and friendship 
 between the ruled and those that rule. Now, there is no 
 nation in the world more proverbial for these adornments 
 than dear old Scotland, and no district has produced more 
 families of distinction than Stirlingshire; while there is no 
 family in the county more remarkable for their endearing 
 social natures, sterling worth, and love of country, than the 
 ancient family of Garden. 
 
 It may be said this branch of the Stirlings has not pro- 
 duced any members distinguished in history, or that will 
 be known to posterity; but for hundreds of years the family 
 has been remarkable, as possessing a stern integrity and 
 honesty of purpose, and an attachment to the institutions 
 of the country rarely to be met with; and has at least pro- 
 duced two members of singular ability and distinction; 
 
The Stirlings of Garden. 171 
 
 while we look upon the young chief of the house as pos- 
 sessed of some of the rarest gifts of his honoured ancestry. 
 This branch of the Stirling family have held Garden 
 since about the beginning of the seventeenth century. The 
 first proprietor of Garden, of the name of Stirling, was Sir 
 Archibald Stirling of Keir, who purchased the estate from 
 Sir James Forrester of Garden, of the very ancient family 
 of that name. At that time the estate is said to have 
 comprehended East, Middle, and West Garden, and is so 
 noted in " Font's map of the Lennox." 
 
 1. The first of the family who possessed Garden as a 
 separate estate was Sir John Stirling, Knight, second son 
 of Sir Archibald Stirling of Keir, who received it from his 
 father in 1613, on the occasion of his marriage."^ 
 
 2. Sir Archibald Stirling succeeded his father. Sir John. 
 He was educated at the University of Glasgow, and be- 
 came a very distinguished student. He afterwards became 
 a member of the various Committees of War, appointed 
 for the defence of the country in 1643. He also obtained 
 the command of a troop of horse under the Earl of Lanark 
 in the year 1648. He was fined ;^i,5oo sterling by Crom- 
 well's Act of Grace, and pardoned 1654. On the 14th of 
 February 1661, he was nominated one of the Senators of 
 the College of Justice, when he assumed the title of" Lord 
 Garden." He was chosen a Lord of the Articles in 1661 
 and 1663. 
 
 He married, first, a daughter of Sir Patrick Murray of 
 Elibank. The issue by this marriage was two sons and 
 two daughters : — • 
 
 * The Stirlings of Keir and their Family Papers. 
 
172 The Lake of Monteith, 
 
 1. John, who succeeded to the Keir estate. 
 
 2. George, who died young, but another son received 
 the same name in 1653. 
 
 3. Anna, bom at Garden on 3d August 1634. 
 
 4. Margaret, bom at Stirling 9th January 1660. 
 
 He married, secondly, a daughter of Sir James Murray 
 of Kilbaberton, and had issue — seven sons and three 
 daughters : — 
 
 1. Archibald, born at Garden 21st March 165 1, who 
 succeeded his father in the Garden estate. 
 
 2. James, who married a daughter of Sir George Stirling 
 of Glorat. 
 
 3. George, bom at Ochiltree 20th July 1653. 
 
 4. William, bom at Ochiltree 20th October 1654. 
 
 5. Alexander, bom at Ochiltree 26th December 1656. 
 
 6. Thomas, born at Ochiltree 25th December 1658. 
 
 7. Henry, born at Edinburgh 20th July 1667, was an 
 Ensign in the Company raised by the London Merchants 
 for duty in the East Indies. 
 
 8. Catherine, born at Edinburgh 8th September 1647. 
 
 9. Elizabeth, born at Ochiltree 31st January 1649. 
 10. Rebecca, born at Ochiltree 2d April 1650. 
 
 3. Archibald Stirling succeeded his father, Lord Garden, 
 in the year 1668. This Laird of Garden was a very pro- 
 minent man of his time. He was a keen supporter of the 
 Stuart family; and, along with his retainers from Garden, 
 swelled the assembly known in history and tradition as 
 the *' Gathering of the Brig of Turk." For his zeal in the 
 cause of his sovereign, he was apprehended, carried to 
 London for examination before the Privy Council, and 
 
The Stirlifigs of Garden. 173 
 
 imprisoned in Newgate till the month of July. He was 
 then sent back to Edinburgh Castle, and tried for high 
 treason, but acquitted. He married, first, Margaret Bailie, 
 only daughter of Sir Gideon Bailie of Lochend, and widow 
 of Sir John Colquhoun of Luss, by whom he had issue — an 
 only son, Archibald, who succeeded to the estate of Garden. 
 This amiable lady died at Garden, 20th July, 1679. ^7 
 her former marriage with Sir John Colquhoun, she was 
 mother of Lilias Colquhoun, wife of Sir John Stirling of 
 Keir, elder brother of Archibald Stirling of Garden. The 
 wives of the two brothers were accordingly mother and 
 daughter, the younger brother being married to the mother. 
 Archibald Stirling married, secondly, the eldest daughter 
 of Sir Alexander Hamilton of Haggs, who had issue four 
 sons and five daughters. 
 
 1. James, who died in early life. 
 
 2. John, who acquired the estate of Garden from his 
 eldest brother Archibald, in 17 18. 
 
 3. James, one of the most distinguished Mathematicians 
 of his time; the bosom friend of Sir Isaac Newton; and 
 the companion and correspondent of all the great philoso- 
 phers of his day. 
 
 4. Charles, who was a merchant in Jamaica. 
 
 The daughters appear to have all died young or un- 
 married. 
 
 Archibald Stirling died at Garden in 17 15, aged sixty- 
 four, having possessed the estate forty-eight years. 
 
 4. Archibald, the only son of the first marriage, suc- 
 ceeded his father in the estate of Garden. He was a man 
 of considerable learning, and went to Barbadoes as private 
 
174 The Lake of Moiiteith. 
 
 tutor in the family of Judge Walker. He sold the estate 
 of Garden to his next brother, about a year after his suc- 
 cession. 
 
 5. John Stirling of Garden, who acquired the estate of 
 Garden from his brother, built the present mansion-house 
 on the lands then called Blairfeichan. He married Grizel 
 Graham, youngest daughter of Robert Graham of Gartmore, 
 and had issue three sons and two daughters: — 
 
 1. Archibald, who succeeded to the estate. 
 
 2. Robert, who was in the Indian army, but died at the 
 Cape of Good Hope, while on his homeward journey in 
 
 1765. 
 
 3. James, who was a West India planter, but died in 
 Jamaica, young and unmarried. 
 
 4 and 5. Isobel and Ann both died unmarried. 
 
 6. Archibald Stirling of Garden succeeded his father in 
 1760. He was a man of the most energetic mind; for a 
 time he assisted his uncle in the management of the exten- 
 sive mines at Leadhills, and on the death of his relative 
 succeeded to the sole management. He much improved 
 the estate of Garden, and purchased the adjoining pro- 
 perties of Arngibbon and Arnfinlay. He married his 
 cousin, the daughter of James Stirling the Mathematician, 
 and had issue one son. He died at Garden 1829, aged 
 eighty-seven years. 
 
 7. James Stirling of Garden. He greatly improved the 
 estate, having during his lifetime expended no less a sum 
 than ;^4o,ooo in extending and improving the property; 
 and purchased the adjoining estate of Arnmore. He was 
 a gentleman of the most honourable and upright character, 
 
The Stirlings of Gardefi, 175 
 
 and one of the most kind and warm-hearted landlords in 
 the county of Stirling. He married Isabella Monteith, 
 daughter of William Monteith, Esq., who survives him, 
 and was succeeded by his only son. 
 
 8. James Stirling of Garden. Mr. Stirling was born in 
 1844, 3,nd succeeded to his estate about a year ago. 
 
T76 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 THE FORRESTERS OF ARNGIBBON. 
 
 The estate of Amgibbon is pleasantly situated near the 
 village of Arnprior, and adjoins the property of Garden. 
 The mansion-house is built on a commanding eminence, 
 having a sweeping view of the vale of Monteith, the eastern 
 portion of the Lennox, with the whole range of the Grampian 
 hills beyond. The present beautiful house was built and 
 the grounds laid out by the esteemed proprietor, which reflects 
 the highest credit on his taste and intelligence. The name 
 of Forrester is of great antiquity, and the family is one of the 
 very oldest, in a direct line, in the county of Stirling. The 
 name is derived from the office of " forester" or '* keeper" 
 of the king's forests. The present Mr. Forrester of Arn- 
 gibbon is descended, in a direct line, from the ancient 
 proprietors of Garden of that name. 
 
 Previous to the year 1490, Garden appears to have been 
 crown lands; for, in 1495, Sir Duncan Forrester, who would 
 appear to have been the first laird of Garden of that name, 
 had charters of the lands of Garden, Skipness, Torwood, 
 Torwoodhead, &c.; and was also comptroller of the King's* 
 household, and had the office of keeper of the forest of 
 Torwood. About the year 16 13, Sir Andrew Forrester sold 
 
 * Note to Douglass Peerage. 
 
The Forresters of Arngibbo7i. 177 
 
 his estate of Garden to Stirling of Keir,* but appears to 
 have retained the estate of Arngibbon. 
 
 At a very early period, and for a very long time, the 
 Menzies were proprietors of the greater part of the parishes 
 of Kippen and Killearn; and during the reign of James 
 IV. one of that name held the ancient estate of Arnprior. 
 Menzies was an old man without heirs, and had long lived 
 at enmity with Forrester of Garden. The latter being the 
 more powerful of the two continued to overawe his neigh- 
 bour, and at last brought matters to a crisis by ordering 
 Menzies either to leave his estate voluntarily to him, or he 
 would come and drive him from it by force. Menzies not 
 being able to cope with Garden, but at the same time very 
 unwilling to leave his estate to his mortal enemy, wrote 
 Buchanan of Auchmar that if he would protect him from 
 Garden he would leave the estate to one of his sons. 
 Buchanan readily accepted the offer, and so far undervalued 
 Garden that he sent his second son, then only an infant, 
 with his nurse to Arnprior. 
 
 Forrester, hearing of the " young heir," instantly went to 
 Arnprior house, and demanded that he should be at once 
 sent back, otherwise he should kill the child and burn the 
 house about his ears. The nurse, however, being of a bold 
 _ determined nature, brandished her fist in Forrester's face, 
 exclaiming — " Touch but one hair of the child's head, and 
 you bring the vengeance of Auchmar upon you; to-morrow, 
 you shall be hanging on your own gibbet, and your estate 
 be a ruin!" This bold speech on the part of the nurse was 
 a complete damper to Forrester, who well knew he could 
 
 * Keir Papers. 
 
178 The Lake of Monteith, 
 
 not cope with the then powerful house of Auchmar, and he 
 ceased to molest his neighbour. This same infant in after 
 life became the renowned " King of Kippen," as the follow- 
 ing incident will show : — 
 
 During the reign of King James V. carriers were frequently- 
 passing along the road, from the western portions of the 
 county, to Stirling, with goods for the King's use, the county 
 road leading past the entrance to Buchanan's house. On 
 one occasion Buchanan ordered the carrier to leave part of 
 the load for his use, and he should be paid for it; but the 
 carrier refusing, Buchanan instantly compelled him to give 
 up what he wanted, telling the bewildered carrier that, if 
 his master was " King of Scotland," he was " King of Kip- 
 pen," and that it was reasonable he should share with his 
 neighbour King. 
 
 This matter afterwards coming to the ears of James, he 
 resolved on paying Arnprior a visit. On his arrival Bu- 
 chanan was at dinner, and his Majesty was denied access 
 by a tall fellow, who brandished a battle-axe, and told the 
 King there could be no admittance till dinner was over; 
 but this answer not being satisfactory, the King sent to 
 demand admittance a second time, upon which he was 
 desired by the porter to desist, otherwise he should have 
 cause to repent of his rudeness. 
 
 James, finding this method not suitable, desired the 
 porter to tell his master that the " Guid man o' Ballangeich 
 desired to speak with the " King of Kippen." Buchanan 
 hearing this, instantly received his Majesty, entertained 
 him sumptuously; and made himself so agreeable, that 
 he was allowed to take whatever he wanted for his own use 
 
The Forresters of Arngihbon, 179 
 
 out of the King's .carts, and desired to visit his Majesty at 
 Stirhng, which he did, and continued afterwards in great 
 favour. 
 
 This Buchanan of Amprior was also proprietor of the 
 estate of Gartartan, and had charters from the Commen- 
 dator of Inchmahome of the lands of Hornhaugh; he was 
 also laird of Brachern. After he had got possession of 
 Brachern, it was violently seized by Captain MTormad, 
 chief of a company of outlaws, who took possession and 
 plundered the property. 
 
 Buchanan getting notice that M'Tormad and his asso- 
 ciates were drinking in a tavern at Chapelarroch near Gart- 
 more, and were likely to spend the night there, selected a 
 number of his men mounted on horseback, and arrived at 
 Chapelarroch during the night. On Buchanan's arrival, 
 he found the outlaws overcome with drink and sleep, and 
 making fast the doors, he set fire to the house, when their 
 chief and his followers, twenty-four in number, were either 
 burned or slain. This brave man, the first of the " Kings 
 of Kippen," was killed at the disastrous battle of Pinkie.* 
 
 The estate of Arngibbon is situated in the county of 
 Perth, but the family has always been reckoned as of 
 Stirlingshire. 
 
 * Historical Essay upon the Family and Surname of Buchanan, by Buchanan 
 of Auchmar. 
 
i8o The Lake of MoJiteith. 
 
 THE M'LACHLANS OF AUCHENTROIG. 
 
 The mansion-house of Auchentroig stands in one of the 
 most pleasant situations in the county of Stirling — placed, as 
 it is, on the banks of the pretty little glen of Arnfaichloch, 
 famous in " Border Tales," watered by the meandering 
 stream that flows around it, and adorned with some of the 
 grandest old trees in the country. The present esteemed 
 proprietor has done much for the improvement of the 
 estate and the benefit of his tenantry. The house and 
 grounds, having been built and laid out under his direc- 
 tion, give ample proof of his taste, and of the deep interest 
 he takes in matters agricultural. 
 
 The family of Auchentroig have long been distinguished 
 for their liberal spirit, disinterestedness, and noble hospita- 
 lity; while they have always taken a deep interest in every- 
 thing tending to promote the good of the district in which 
 their estate is situated. The family is generally allowed to be 
 one of the very oldest, in a direct line from father to son, 
 in the county of Stirling. I have heard an old friend of 
 mine, long since gathered to his fathers, who was well 
 versed in all the traditions of the family, say that *^ fourteen 
 Johns succeeded each other in direct succession!" Certain 
 it is, at least, that they have held the property from a very 
 early period. 
 
The M^Lachlans of A uchentroig, 1 8 1 
 
 According to Welsh, the Irish historian, the ancestor of 
 the M'Lachlans was O'Lauchlan, King of the province of 
 Meath, and one of the Milesian stem, or race of the ancient 
 Kings of Ireland, who reigned from the second century 
 till about the time of the English Conquest, when they 
 were among the first to plant Argyleshire. An important 
 branch of the clan held the Auchentroig estate as far back 
 as the twelfth or thirteenth century. The chief of this 
 branch led a company of spearmen from his estate, and 
 swelled the renowned Randolph's division at the battle of 
 Bannockburn. Charters, granted by King Robert Bruce 
 after the battle, and still preserved among the Auchentroig 
 papers, are proofs that he had rendered to his King and 
 country, on that important day, valuable services. In the 
 year 1394, Duncan, Earl of Lennox, confirms a charter to 
 Celestin M^Lachlan of Auchentroig, granted to one of his 
 ancestors by Eugen M'Kessan of Garchel.* 
 
 The late Captain M'Lachlan of Auchentroig, the grand- 
 father of the present proprietor, was a gentleman of very 
 many accomplishments. In early life he was allowed to 
 be one of the best swordsmen in the British army, and was 
 endowed with a singularly daring spirit. On one occasion, 
 and when only a subaltern, he commanded a picket party, 
 while, on the opposite side of a ravine, lay a detachment 
 of the enemy. During the early part of the evening, the 
 officer in charge of the enemy's party cried, " We'll sort you 
 lousy Scots to-morrow." " If ye'll see to-morrow!" whispered 
 the young subaltern. During the night, M'Lachlan led his 
 men quietly across the glen, and next morning the sun rose 
 
 * Essay, by Buchanan of Auchmar. 
 
1 82 77ie Lake of Monteith, 
 
 on the corpses of the entire party of the enemy. For this 
 exploit he was tried next day by court-martial and ad- 
 monished; but on the following day he had the satisfaction 
 of being raised to the rank of Captain. On a subsequent 
 occasion he engaged a French officer single-handed, when 
 the Frenchman kept backing his horse, till its progress 
 was arrested by a wall; " and then," said the veteran, 
 *^ I soon laid his head upon his shoulders." Another 
 feat is recorded of his taking a French officer from the 
 very front of his regiment, and carrying him a prisoner 
 to the British lines amid the plaudits of the soldiery. 
 At the battle of Minden, he distinguished himself by carry- 
 ing off the enemy's colours; but in this gallant act he was 
 unhorsed and severely wounded. On being asked, in after- 
 life, how he managed to escape after his horse was killed, 
 he replied, "Ah! there were plenty of empty saddles before 
 I left." 
 
 He died at Auchentroig, at a good old age, and was suc- 
 ceeded by his only son, the late Captain M^Lachlan, one 
 of the most accomplished gentlemen of his time. In early 
 life he gave tokens of possessing poetical talents of a high 
 order, some of his pieces bearing favourable comparison 
 even with those of our great National Bard; but his unfor- 
 tunate death, in early life, extinguished all the hopes of his 
 friends. 
 
 He was succeeded in the estate by his only son, the 
 present Mr. M^Lachlan of Auchentroig — a gentleman well 
 known in the west of Stirlingshire for his many good qua- 
 lities, and the deep interest he takes in all that tends to 
 the advancement of his native district. 
 
A Sabbath on Bcn-Lomo7id. 183 
 
 A SABBATH ON BEN-LOMOND. 
 
 It is a Saturday afternoon, early in summer. We are 
 leaving the Port of Monteith station, with the grave in- 
 tention of "doing" (as the Cockneys call it) Ben-Lo- 
 mond on Sunday morning. Our clerical friends may call 
 this Sabbath desecration, or anything else they choose 
 — no matter. Here we are, rolling along the Forth & 
 Clyde Railway towards Balloch; and, sweeping through the 
 grand old country of the Lennox, we reach the foot of 
 Loch-Lomond in time for the last boat to take us up the 
 loch. As we set foot on board, a gentle breeze is sweeping 
 down from the mountains, and ruffling the hitherto still 
 w^aters of the Queen of Scottish Lakes. As our gallant 
 craft ploughs the blue waters, and steers her course among 
 riven rocks and feathered islands, our eye scans the distant 
 shores where rise modern mansion and ancient feudal 
 keep — the home of the merchant prince, and the abode of 
 the war chief of other days. We see the pine-covered 
 glens and barren mountain gorges, where, in days long 
 gone by, the Macfarlane, Macaulay, and Colquhoun rushed 
 forth, like their native torrents, to rob the plain, their faces 
 tatooed with the scars of a hundred battles, and their limbs 
 red with blood, as they mingled in fray and foray, and 
 wreaked vengeance on the Buchanan. 
 
184 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 We reach Rowardennan just as the sun is sinking behind 
 the hills, and day beginning to wane in the glens of the 
 country of Rob Roy; and, after refreshing ourselves on the 
 good things of the inn, we stroll along the shore, to muse 
 on Nature's glories, and inhale the balmy breeze of loch 
 and hill. Slowly we tread the rugged beach, and examine 
 the rocks smoothed by the waves of a thousand years, and 
 grooved by the surge of icebergs of countless ages. All is 
 still in the Highland glen, but ever and anon we are startled 
 by the dismal wail of the owl, as it floats down the pass, or 
 the cry of the sea-bird, as it returns from the feeding haunts 
 away to its young on yonder island. By-and-by, night 
 throws her sable garb around the hills, and the mist wades 
 among the stinted hazels and creeps over the morass; while 
 the moon, like an ill-washed face, peeps over the heathery 
 knowe. We retire to rest; — and at the first streak of day 
 we are at the window peering through the gloom. But 
 alas! the mist is far down on the mighty object of our am- 
 bition, the winds howl, and the window -curtains rattle; 
 while the loch, like an angry beast, with breath of hate and 
 tongue of foam, growling laps the shore, and, dull and dis- 
 appointed, we creep back to our couch, and spend an hour 
 or two more in dreamy repose. 
 
 By-and-by, we hear the old Highland clock strike three, 
 when we again start to our feet, and rush towards the win- 
 dow. Now we find that the wind has stopped its raving, the 
 curtains ceased to rattle, and the loch, no longer angry, 
 playfully kisses the pebbles on the beach; while far between 
 us and the blue vaulted heavens, Ben-Lomond, with clear 
 head and frownless brow, looks down on the scene be- 
 
A Sabbath on Ben- Lomond. 185 
 
 neath. In every glen, bird sings to bird, rock and corry 
 yielding back the chorus; while the glorious orb of day, 
 uprisen from his hiding-place, is dotting the shattered hills 
 with his tints, and filling each rugged glen with a flood of 
 light. A few moments longer, sandwich in bag and flask 
 in hand, we are treading the heather on towards the sum- 
 mit. The first mile, we find, somewhat resembles the jour- 
 ney of life, being largely composed of " ups and downs," 
 and not particularly interesting; but as we gradually ascend 
 and pass on to the second mile, reaching a point where 
 " Providence" has kindly ^^ dug " a well, the scene deepens, 
 and we have a beautiful view of the lower and broader por- 
 tion of the loch. 
 
 The sun is just high enough to peep over the shoulder 
 of yon neighbouring crag, and as it flings its first rays over 
 tinted, deep, and shaggy islands, we find we are gazing upon 
 a scene perhaps unsurprised in all Nature's glories. The 
 whole lower portion lies spread out before us, calm and 
 shining like a vast mirror — the islands reposing on its sur- 
 face, — while all seem.s a diadem in Nature's lap. We are 
 struck with the great diversity of shape and colour as they 
 nestle in the morning sun; some with rocky face and heath- 
 covered head shoot high in the air, their sides clothed with 
 flowing birch and stately pine, stunted oak and rank fern, 
 throwing their dark shadows far across the loch; others, 
 with rocky surface and craggy headland, seem bleak and 
 barren; while here and there may be seen reposing low- 
 shaped green islands, almost covered by the tiny waves 
 that play around them, and lying on the blue w^aters like 
 so many emeralds. It is with difficulty we tear ourselves 
 
 N 
 
1 86 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 away from the enjoyment of such a scene; but as the hill- 
 top is free of mist and clear of cloud, we push on upwards 
 — still upwards. As we tread over barren rock and stunted 
 heather, we see the gull and the falcon hunting hill and 
 glen, while the raven breaks the air with his cries, as he 
 wheels in grand circles over our head. 
 
 By-and-by we reach the summit, and the glorious scene 
 that bursts upon our awe-struck vision will haunt our me- 
 mory and float before our imagination till our dying day. On 
 either side, rise the scattered glories of the great Creator; 
 beneath, are the glens of the nether world, dark and gloomy 
 as they appear. Around, we see mountain rise over moun- 
 tain in sublime magnificence; there, huge dark fonns splin- 
 tered into a thousand shapes. There, too, lies the sweep- 
 ing plain, dotted with loch and watered by river; yonder 
 the smiling Lowland village and snug Highland hamlet; 
 beyond, the great City, where commerce rolls her busy 
 tide, discernible only by the dim pall of smoke that throws 
 its sable tresses over it. Towards the west, we have the 
 hills of Arrochar, with ever and anon a peep of Loch-Long 
 between. Conspicuous among the hills stands the "Cob- 
 bler," with furrowed face and bent back; farther north, Ben- 
 Voirlich (Ben-Lomond's twin brother) rears his noble head. 
 Sweeping along the northern horizon our eyes rests on the 
 proud summits of Ben-Cruachan, Ben-More, and Ben-Lawers, 
 with a thousand hills between. On the east, we have the 
 hills that overawe Loch- Katrine; with the Alpine ranges of 
 Loch-Tay and Loch-Earn in the back-ground. Towards 
 the south, we have the Vale of Monteith, with its varied 
 landscape; while Loch-Chon, Loch-Ard, and the Lake of 
 
A Sabbath on Ben- Lomond. 187 
 
 Monteith lie slumbering beneath heathery hills, and shaded 
 by golden-tinted foliage. Beyond, in one unbroken plain, 
 stretches the Carse of Stirling, with the Castle rock and 
 Abbey Craig rising through the haze; while far beyond is 
 the sea-girt shore of the Frith of Forth. From beneath our 
 feet spring innumerable tiny rills, which, strengthened by the 
 streams that gurgle from the parent hill — like blood from 
 wounded giant's side — and pours forth their waters, that in 
 the plain become rivers, and swell out into billowy seas. 
 
 While enraptured we stand gazing on the wonderful pa- 
 norama before us, we are startled by a low sort of playfully 
 prattling noise; andonlooking round we find that the summer 
 cloud is fast gathering beyond, and that the mist is coming 
 hissing up the hill-side. Watching it, as it comes rushing 
 through the riven crags, it reminds one of some half-dozen 
 urchins climbing up their grandfather's old rickety chair, 
 each trying who will be first to place his tiny hand on the 
 bald head. Upwards still climbs the fog, and in a moment 
 we are enveloped in impenetrable gloom. By-and-by the 
 mist settles down; and, starting to our feet, a sense of 
 awful loneliness steals over us. We imagine ourselves 
 some sea-bird perched on lonely rock, and far from shore; 
 for, far as the eye can reach there is mist — only mist, with 
 here and there the top of some mountain piercing the 
 thick veil — like islands in a vast sea. 
 
 Soon a gentle breeze springs up from the north — and, in 
 a thousand forms, back is rolled the sable mantle; then, 
 bursting through the shattered folds emerges the sun — and, 
 shining through the watery vapour, spans the neighbouring 
 hill-top with a rainbow most beautiful to behold. As we 
 
1 88 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 viewed the scenes as they passed before us with mingled 
 feelings of pleasure and awe, we felt a hallowed sensation 
 thrill through our souls, as if we had left mortality behind 
 us, and had plucked a feather out of seraphic wing. 
 
A Buchlyvie Lyke-Wake. 189 
 
 A BUCHLYVIE LYKE-WAKE OF THE OLDKN 
 TIME. 
 
 The days of " Lyke or Late Wakes " have in a great 
 measure gone by, and although they are still kept up in 
 certain rural districts, the debauches and orgies of yore 
 have happily passed away. 
 
 In farm and cottars' houses, when the remains of the 
 deceased cannot be secured from the inroads of vermin, 
 it may perhaps become a matter of expediency to " wake" 
 in such cases; but this is now done by a few friends of 
 the family in a quiet and becoming manner. It was not 
 so, however, about the beginning of the present century, 
 or even at a much later period. The scene here detailed 
 was often described by an old friend of mine who lived in 
 the immediate neighbourhood; and at the time it occurred, 
 such scenes were by no means rare, although, perhaps, 
 none so wild or devilish in their nature. 
 
 It was at the fall of the year, when fields are bare, the 
 corn all gathered in, and when the old bodies begin to 
 drop away one by one; when the sharp hoar-frost strews 
 the ground with falling leaves, and the gusts of wind begin 
 to wreck nature, and send wanderers running to their 
 homes. November had set in, with its surly blasts blow- 
 ing straight from Ben-Ledi — that mother of frosts; and 
 
190 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 poor bodies, with their thin clothes, thin flesh, and far 
 thinner blood, could ill stand the shock. The link that 
 bound them to earth was shivered; and so it was with the 
 taxman of Upper Kepdourie. He was honest, true, and 
 old; he had 
 
 * ' Seen yon weary wintry sun 
 Twice forty times return; 
 And every time had added proofs 
 That man was made to mourn." 
 
 When the " word broke out" that the old man had died, 
 servant-maids and "herd laddies" might be seen meeting 
 at the marches, and laying schemes for the wake. " It'll 
 be a guid ane,'' one would say. " Ye'll be there," another 
 would whisper. " We'll ha'e a nicht o't — the auld wife's a 
 hearty ane." " Ay, feth ! " And so they whiled away the time 
 till it turned dark. The old man died in the morning; 
 and in the fore part of the day the wind began to blow the 
 leaves into eddies at the roadsides, the afternoon was 
 drizzling and wet, and with the dark came the piercing 
 storm. The sleet drifted along the braes of Buchlyvie; 
 the burns began to come down; and the spate roared 
 among the rocks of Arnfaichlach glen. The wind howled 
 among the turrets of the old baronial house of Auchentroig, 
 and soughed wildly among the dark recesses of ^^ Garry's 
 Hole;" and, in fact, it was such a night 
 
 " That a child might understand 
 The de'il had business on his hand," 
 
 In spite, however, of drifting sleet and splashy road, the 
 wakers began to gather. The farmer left his horse and 
 kine to pay the last tribute of respect to his honest neigh- 
 
A Buchlyvie Lyke-Wake. 191 
 
 hour; the country weaver left his shuttle mute, and hur- 
 ried through the drift to lend his presence to the scene; 
 the cobbler and tailor flung aside the awl and needle to 
 " wake" their honest friend; while Vulcan rushed from 
 din of hammer, steekit the smithy door, and groped his 
 way in the dark along a road famous in days of yore for 
 the haunts of spirits and the resort of ghosts, to lend con- 
 solation to the lonely widow. 
 
 It was an old custom, and a good one, at scenes of this 
 kind, that when the " wakers" first arrived, each had to 
 drink a large horn of whisky, and on this occasion it was 
 not overlooked. We shall now suppose the company to 
 be assembled; and the gentle reader will please follow me 
 while I describe the house, that he may have a better idea 
 how matters went on. The little farm-house of Upper 
 Kepdourie was one of those old-fashioned one-storeyed 
 " biggins," with a " but and ben," and small closet; the 
 kitchen was large and roomy, with a bed near the back 
 wall, and close to the " bed-end" was the back window. 
 
 In front of the house there was a " causeway," made up 
 of rough stones, and only about three or four feet wide; 
 beyond this was the manure-stead, which, when filled with 
 the sap of the dung, was from four to six feet in depth. As 
 Fate would have it, the farmer's old mare chanced to die 
 the same day as her master, and still lay unburied within 
 the stable, which stood but a few yards from the kitchen 
 door. Some wags had laid their heads together during the 
 day, and resolved to have some fun at the wakers' expense. 
 Getting access to the house during the day, they fixed a 
 rope round the neck of the corpse, concealing it with the bed- 
 
192 The Lake of Monteith . 
 
 clothes, and had it drawn out at the window, to be ready- 
 when the convenient time arrived. With some labour, but 
 aided by the stormy night and the din within, they managed 
 to drag the dead animal unheard to the front of the kitchen 
 door, and fixed on its back, the four legs grimly dangling in 
 the air. Placed in this position, no one could get out with- 
 out falling over the hideous carcase, and once over, they 
 were sure to get buried in the '^ wash." This part of the 
 performance over, the lads stood by the rope and waited 
 their time, seeing and hearing all that passed within. 
 Gathered around the blazing peat fire sat the wakers, a 
 rather motley crew, old and young, lads and lasses. At one 
 side sat the weaver and his friend the cobbler, discussing 
 the news and events of the times; at the other, sat two 
 farmer chiels, cracking about ^' horse," and swearing; while 
 in the peat-neuk sat two herd laddies, bragging who had the 
 best roaring bull or fighting dog; and in each corner were 
 lads with their arms around the lasses' necks. In front 
 of the fire, stood a large four-footed table, groaning with 
 bottles, and reeking with hot punch; at the head was the 
 " big bowl" — dear to the old man as the '* big ha' Bible," 
 and far dearer to the wakers. Near the head of the table 
 sat the douce old widow, in her drugget clothes and snow- 
 white " sou-back" cap; at her side was the grey, lank, lean 
 smith, but yaul for his age, his great fists like " fore-ham- 
 mers," and the big blue veins twisted round his arms like 
 " ivy stems on oaks." The smith had a singular gift for 
 .seeing ghosts, and a wonderful knack of telling ghost 
 stories. He was a great favourite with the widow, and 
 between rounds of punch they ** cracked "loud and long. 
 
A Biichlyvie Lyke-Wake. 193 
 
 " Ye ha'e met wi' a serious loss, and I'm unco vexed to 
 hear o' the death o' yer guid mare," whispered the smith to 
 the widow; " and," continued he, " mony a time I ha'e pit 
 shin on her feet." 
 
 "Ou ay, deed ha'e ye, smith. It's a great loss to me the 
 loss o' my gallant mare; — the guidman, ye ken, was gettin* 
 a wee doited — it was just natur failin'," responded the 
 widow. 
 
 " Bodies, be hearty," cried the old dame, turning round 
 in her rickety chair. "Smith, gi'e them a drap o't, it's guid 
 speerits; an' atween you and me, smith, it ne'er saw the face 
 o' a ganger." " Lassock," she continued, " see that that licht's 
 no gaun din on the giiidman's breast; the witches would 
 turn him in a moment; I ance had a forebearer that was 
 couped, an' them a' i' the house ! Lord help us ! it was 
 awfu'!" 
 
 "But, smith," whispered the widow, "I was hearin' ye 
 got a bit glif o' our auld neebor, Mungo, the ither nicht?" 
 
 " Atweel awat, I did that," responded the smith. " I 
 was jist takin' a bit dauner i' the gloamin', the ither nicht, 
 an', comin' near the tree''^* he planted wi' his ain haun, and 
 who should I see but himsel', dressed in his auld red nicht- 
 cap and blue breeks; an' vera sin'glar, woman, he was 
 sittin' on his ain barra that wheel'd hame his corpse, and 
 lookin' wi' a waefu' look up to yon big branch that's neist 
 Garbawn. I was jist openin' my mouth to say ^Is that 
 you, Mungo]' when awa he flew." 
 
 • " Mungo's Tree," on the roadside, a little below the Station of Buchlyvie, and 
 where, it is said, a man of the name of" Mungo," after planting the tree, hung him- 
 self on one of its branches. Of course, the quarter is still haunted by his ghost! 
 
194 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 "Ou ay, smith," returned the old dame; "he'll no get 
 rest in his grave; he took awa his ain life, ye ken, and 
 atweel awat he needna fash'd, he wudna ha'e been lang 
 hinner'd at ony rate." 
 
 By this time the drink had done its own work; the lads 
 and lasses made grand sport in the corners, while peats 
 and potatoes were showered through the house like hail. 
 The smith began to make an awful noise among the glasses, 
 and to boast about his courage and strength; and, in fact, 
 
 •* The mirth and fun flew fast and furious." 
 
 The whole affair collapsed when Vulcan struck the table 
 a blow with his mighty fist that made it shiver on its legs; and, 
 springing to his feet, with a voice like an echo, he drank the 
 health of the departed, while the whole house rose to do 
 it honours. The rascals at the rope saw their time was 
 now come, and pulling gently till they got the body nearly 
 in an upright position, then giving a tremendous jerk, they 
 sent the old farmer right into the midst of the floor! 
 
 There was a moment of terrible stillness — then a wild 
 roar and a rush to get out, — while the smith gave a fearful 
 look, opened his lank jaws, and pronounced a word awfully 
 like " hell," and dashed towards the door howling — "O Lord! 
 it's Auld Nick's wark!" 
 
 " Then backward quick the door he drew, 
 And forward o'er the horse he flew; 
 One by one they on did dash, 
 O'er head and heels among the wash. 
 Some roared out good, but more did evil, 
 While Vulcan yelled * It's sure the devil!' 
 He felt his rough and shaggy hide, 
 For o'er his belly he did glide. 
 
A Biichlyvie Lyke-Wake, 195 
 
 The weaver he did roar and wail, 
 As sure as death he saw the tail; 
 It was a short and hairy stump, 
 For o'er the hind legs he did thump, 
 And by the heels as he played bag, 
 The horrid thing it gie'd a wag!" 
 
196 The Lake of Monteith, 
 
 CURIOUS OLD TRADITION REGARDING THE 
 EARL OF MONTEITH. 
 
 On some occasion, when one of the Earls of Monteith 
 was entertaining his friends on the island, he accidentally 
 ran short of wine. On finding out the mistake, he or- 
 dered his butler to set off to Stirling with all speed, and 
 to lose no time in returning with the required " material." 
 The servant instantly set off on the mission, but hour after 
 after fled on; and no word of the butler or wine, until at 
 last the guests had to retire minus their tumblers. En- 
 raged at the delay, early next morning the Earl walked into 
 the servants' hall, to learn whether the butler had yet arrived; 
 and on entering the apartment he found the truant fast 
 asleep on a bench, with the barrel beside him. The 
 enraged nobleman instantly roused and chid him for his 
 negligence. *' Pardon me, my Lord," exclaimed the butler, 
 as he scratched his matted locks, and rubbed his half-open 
 eyes — "I have been for wine, and if I mistake not, have 
 brought you the best that ever was in your cellar. When 
 near the shore of the lake, I spied two honest women, each 
 mounted on a bulrush, and crying to each other, ^ Ha'e wi' 
 you, Marion Bowie!' 'Ha'e wi' you, Elspa Hardie!' 'Ha'e wi' 
 you too!' says I, mounting like them on a bulrush. Instantly 
 we were rushing through the regions of space, and im- 
 
Tradition Regarding the Earl of Monteith, 197 
 
 mediately found ourselves in the palace of the King of 
 France. As for myself, I was near a sideboard, where 
 there was a store of wine, and, being invisible to the 
 people, I took the opportunity of filling your Lordship's 
 cask. I have also found the cup out of which his Imperial 
 Majesty was wont to drink. I then returned on my trusty 
 nag as quickly as I went; and here I am again, my Lord, at 
 your Lordship's pleasure." During dinner the company 
 were delighted with the fine character of the wines, and not 
 a little amazed on hearing the Earl tell the way in which it 
 had been procured. The story was confirmed when the Earl 
 called his butler, and made him show to the company "the 
 elegant silver cup on which was engraved the fleur-de-lis 
 of the House of Bourbon!" 
 
198 The Lake of Monteith, 
 
 CURIOUS TRADITION REGARDING THE 
 FAIRIES. 
 
 On the south-eastern shore of the lake of Monteith there 
 is a singular peninsula called Cnoc-n'an-Bocan, "Bogle- 
 knowe," or " Hobgoblin-hill," and which was the head- 
 quarters of ^^all the fairies" in this district of country. 
 During the time these " lubberly supematurals" held the 
 " Cnoc-n'an-Bocan," the then Earls of Monteith possessed 
 what was called the *' red bock," to open which was to be 
 followed by something preternatural. One of the Earls 
 unfortunately unclasped the fatal volume, when, lo! the 
 fairies appeared before him demanding work. Not know- 
 ing what work to set them to, his lordship hit upon the 
 plan of making a road into the island. They began on 
 the southern shore, and had made the now beautiful 
 and pleasing peninsula of ^^Arnmauk," tufted with its 
 dark green Scotch firs. The Earl, however, finding that if 
 they continued this work his hitherto impregnable retreat 
 would be cut off, asked them to make for him a rope of 
 sand. They began this latter task without finishing the 
 former, and finding their new work too much for them, 
 they resolved to depart, to the no small joy of the Earl. 
 His lordship, however, in consideration of their herculean 
 
Curious Tradition Regarding the Fairies. 199 
 
 toils, unfinished as they were, gave them a grant of the 
 north shoulder of Ben-Venue, still called Coir-n'an-Uriskin. 
 McGregor Stirling says, " To their desire for work may be 
 attributed the vegetable splendour of their present abode, 
 which without it would have had the most forlorn aspect 
 imaginable, but adorned as it now is, presents unequalled 
 specimens of the sublime and beautiful conjoined. There 
 is, indeed, in Coir-n'an-Uriskin and Bealoch-n'an-Bo, a 
 certain magic grace bespeaking the aerial tenantry." Coir- 
 n'an-Uriskin is the cove of the " Urisk's" or " Fairies," 
 Bealoch-n'an-Bo, the " Lass of the Cows." 
 
Tht Lake of Monteith. 
 
 MONTEITH— EARL OF MONTEITH. 
 
 The first possessor of this very ancient and extensive 
 Earldom appears to have been — 
 
 Murdoch Monteith, who is first mentioned in the chartu- 
 lary of DunfermHne in the reign of David I. 
 
 2. He was succeeded by Gilchrist Monteith, who is 
 mentioned in a charter of donation to the monastery of 
 Scone by Malcolm IV. 
 
 3. He was succeeded by Mauritius, Earl of Monteith, 
 who flourished about the time of William L, and is wit- 
 ness to a donation of William Cumyn, Earl of Buchan, to 
 the monastery of Cambuskenneth. He died leaving two 
 daughters. 
 
 4. The eldest daughter married Walter Cumyn, Lord of 
 Badenoch, who succeeded to the Earldom in right of his 
 wife. He held extensive tracts of land in Badenoch, and 
 became one of the most influential men of his time, owing 
 as much to the strength of his talents as the number of his 
 vassals in Badenoch and Monteith. He died an old man 
 in 1258, leaving no male issue. 
 
 His Countess having married an obscure Englishman, 
 the Earldom devolved upon Walter Stewart, brother of the 
 High Steward of Scotland, who was married to the youngest 
 daughter. 
 
Monteith — Earl of Monteith. 
 
 5. This Walter Stewart, who is described in a former 
 article, had two sons, who assumed the surname of Mon- 
 teith, but the family retained the paternal coat of Stewart,* 
 altering the fesse to a bend for difference. 
 
 1 . Alexander, sixth Earl of Monteith. 
 
 2. Sir John Monteith alias "the fause Monteith," the be- 
 trayer of Sir William Wallace, and mentioned in a former 
 article. 
 
 Sir John Monteith had three sons — important men of 
 their time. 
 
 1. Sir Walter Monteith, who had a charter of the lands 
 of '' Thora," in the Earldom of Monteith. 
 
 2. Sir John Monteith, who had charters from King Robert 
 
 I. of the lands of Stragartenay, in Perthshire. 
 
 3. Sir Alexander Monteith, who had a charter from David 
 
 II. of the pasturage of 100 cattle and 300 sheep on his 
 Majesty's moors of Carale, in Fife. 
 
 5. Alexander, sixth Earl of Monteith, the eldest son, was 
 one of the leaders of the Scotch army which invaded Cum- 
 berland in March of the year 1296. He was afterwards 
 taken prisoner by the English at the battle of Dunbar, in 
 April of the same year. He died about the year 1230, 
 leaving two sons. 
 
 1. Alan, seventh Earl of Monteith. 
 
 2. Murdoch, eighth Earl of Monteith. 
 
 6. Alan, seventh Earl of Monteith, had a son and 
 daughter. The son, however, appears to have died before 
 his father, and without issue. 
 
 Murdoch, eighth Earl of Monteith, succeeded his brother 
 
 * Douglas Peerage, 
 O 
 
The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 Alan, the seventh Earl, but, being killed at the battle of 
 HaHdonhill, 19th July 1333, left no issue. 
 
 7. Mary, Countess of Monteith, daughter of Earl Alan, 
 now succeeded to the Earldom. She married Sir John 
 Graham, who, in right, became Earl of Monteith. He was 
 taken prisoner at the battle of Durham in 1346, but having 
 previously sworn fealty to Edward, he was shortly after exe- 
 cuted as a traitor, leaving by his Countess one daughter. 
 
 8. Margaret, Countess of Monteith, carried the Earldom 
 to her husband, Robert Stewart, third son of King Robert 
 11. , Earl of Fife and Duke of Albany, Regent of Scotland. 
 After the execution of her son Murdo, Duke of Albany, 
 the Earldom vested in the crown in the year 1425; but, 
 two years later, it was granted to Malise Graham, Earl 
 of Strathearn, who laid the succession to the Earldom of 
 the name of Graham. 
 
Graham — Earl of Monteith. 203 
 
 GRAHAM— EARL OF MONTEITH. 
 
 I. Malise Graham, Earl of Monteith, appears to have 
 been the only son of Patrick, Earl of Strathearn. The King 
 having divested him of the Earldom of Strathearn, gave 
 him that of Monteith. It does not appear that he was a 
 man of any note. He died about the year 1491. He 
 married Lady Ann Vere, daughter of the Earl of Oxford, 
 and had issue three sons: — 
 
 1. Alexander. 
 
 2. Sir John Graham of Kilbride. This Sir John was 
 known as " Sir John of the bright sword;" he held, from 
 his father, charters of the lands of Port, Coldon, Monie- 
 vrachie, '^ with the Loch of Inchmahome and the Islands 
 thereof" He was ancestor of the Grahams of Gartmore, 
 Preston, Netherby, Norton, Conyers, &c.* 
 
 3. Walter, ancestor of the Grahams of Buchquhaple. He 
 held the lands of Lochton, Glaskelgie, Colyart, &c.; he had 
 also charters of several lands in Monteith, with the Lake 
 of Loch-Chon. 
 
 I. Alexander, Master of Monteith, died before his father, 
 leaving one son. 
 
 3. Alexander, second Earl of Monteith, was served heir 
 
 * Douglas Peerage. 
 
204 The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 to his grandfather, 6th May 1493. He married a daughter 
 of Buchanan of Buchanan, and had issue two sons: — 
 
 1. WiUiam, third Earl of Monteith. 
 
 2. Walter, who had a charter of the lands of Gartur 
 from the Abbot of Inchmahome, and was ancestor of the 
 Grahams of Gartur. 
 
 4. William, third Earl of Monteith, died in 1537. He 
 married a daughter of Mubray of Barnbougle, by whom 
 he had issue three sons and one daughter. 
 
 1. John, fourth Earl of Monteith. 
 
 2. Robert, who got the estate of Gartmore, but died 
 Avithout issue. 
 
 3. Gilbert, who appears to have got the Gartmore estate 
 on the death of his brother, but whose male line became 
 extinct. 
 
 Lady Margaret, married to the Earl of Argyll. 
 
 5. John, fourth Earl of Monteith, appears to have been 
 a man of some note. He was taken prisoner at the " rout 
 of Solway," and was afterwards killed in a duel by the 
 Tutor of Appin in 1547. He married a daughter of Lord 
 Seton, and had issue two sons and two daughters: — 
 
 1. William, fifth Earl of Monteith. 
 
 2. George Graham, who had the estate of Rednock; he 
 had a son, James, who held a charter of the King's lands 
 of Easter Rednock. James had one daughter, Marion, who 
 was heiress to her grandfather, George. She married John 
 Graham of Duchray, and conveyed the estate to her husband. 
 
 1. Lady Mary, who married the Laird of Buchanan. 
 
 2. Lady Christian, who married Sir William Livingston 
 of Kilsyth. 
 
Graham — Earl of Monteith. 205 
 
 6. William, fifth Earl of Monteith, married the eldest 
 daughter of Sir James Douglas of Drumlanrig, and had 
 issue one son. 
 
 7. John, sixth EarL of Monteith, was served heir to his 
 father in 1587, and died 1598. He married Mary, third 
 daughter of Sir Colin Campbell of Glenurchy, by whom he 
 had issue two sons and one daughter. 
 
 1. William, seventh Earl of Monteith. 
 
 2. Hon. Sir James Graham, who married Lady Margaret 
 Erskine, daughter of the Earl of Buchan. They had a 
 daughter married to Walter Graham of Gartur. 
 
 Lady Christian, married to Sir John Blackadder of Tulli- 
 allan. 
 
 8. William, seventh Earl of Monteith, succeeded to the 
 Earldom in the year 16 10. In August 1630 he was served 
 heir of David, Earl of Strathearn, and was designed " Earl 
 of Strathearn and Monteith." Earl William appears to 
 have been a man of transcendent genius. The great supe- 
 riority of his talents attracted the notice of Charles I., and 
 that monarch promoted him to the high offices of Justice- 
 General of Scotland and President of the Privy-Council, 
 and he held charters of extensive lands and baronies. Being 
 a man of great ambition, and having a pedigree reaching 
 back to David, Earl of Strathearn, eldest son of King Robert 
 11. , the King and his ministers for Scotland soon began to 
 view him with jealousy, heightened by a diversity of opinion 
 regarding the legitimacy of King Robert II., thereby affect- 
 ing Charles' right to the throne — a man who, in the opinion 
 of many, had the preferable right to the crown. The Earl 
 at last brought down upon himself the displeasure of his 
 
2o6 The Lake of Monteith, 
 
 monarch by exclaiming, in his presence, " My blood is the 
 reddest in the kingdom." Charles at once ordered a re- 
 duction of his retours, deprived him of the Justice-Gene- 
 ralship, and set aside his patent as Earl of Strathearn. 
 The King, however, was some short time afterwards pleased 
 to confer upon him the new title of Earl of Airth, and he 
 was afterwards known as Earl of Airth and Monteith. He 
 got a new investiture of the lands of Monteith, granted 
 under the great seal, nth January 1644, to himself and his 
 son John, Lord Kinpont, as heir-apparent.''^ He married 
 a daughter of Lord Gray, and had issue four sons and three 
 daughters. 
 
 1. John, Lord Kinpont. 
 
 2. The Hon. Sir Charles Graham, who died without issue. 
 
 3. The Hon. Sir James Graham, who also died without 
 issue. 
 
 4. The Hon. Archibald Graham, who had one son by 
 his wife, Janet Johnston; whose male line, however, ap- 
 pears to have become extinct previous to the death of the 
 last Earl. 
 
 1. Lady Mary, who married Sir John Campbell of Glen- 
 urchy, and was mother of the first Earl of Breadalbane. 
 
 2. Lady Margaret, who married Lord Garlics. 
 
 3. Lady Anne, married to Sir Mungo Murray of Blebo. 
 2. John, Lord Kinpont, the eldest son and heir-apparent 
 
 of William, Earl of Airth and Monteith, had charters of 
 the lands of Kilbride and Kinpont. His Lordship appears 
 to have been a man of great interest and ability, and a 
 keen royalist. He joined his noble chief, the renowned 
 
 * Peerage of Scotland. 
 
Graham — Earl of Moiiteith. 207 
 
 Marquis of Montrose, with 400 of his followers, taking a 
 prominent part in the decisive battle of Tippermuir, fought 
 on the I St September 1644, and where Montrose gained a 
 complete victory over an army quadruple in numbers. Four 
 days afterwards, Lord Kinpont was basely murdered in 
 Montrose's camp, at Collare, in Perthshire, by James Stew- 
 art of Ardvoirlich. It would appear that Stewart had proposed 
 a plan to his Lordship to assassinate Montrose, whereupon 
 Lord Kinpont at once signified his abhorrence of the act 
 as being " disgraceful and deviHsh." Stewart, afraid of dis- 
 covery, without saying a word drew his dagger and stabbed 
 him to the heart, and immediately fled over to the Covenan- 
 ters. The Marquis of Montrose was deeply affected by the 
 loss of his noble friend, and ordered his body to be conveyed 
 to Monteith, and there interred within the family burying- 
 vault. His Lordship married Lady Mary Keith, by whom 
 he had issue. 
 
 1. William, second Earl of Airth and Monteith. 
 
 2. Mary, married to Sir John Alardice of Alardice. 
 
 3. Elizabeth, married to Sir William Graham of Gartmore. 
 
 4. William, second Earl of Airth and Monteith, succeeded 
 his grandfather in the title and estate. He does not appear 
 to have been a man of any note, or to have taken any part 
 in public affairs. Dying without issue, on the 12 th of Sep- 
 tember 1694, he bequeathed all his landed property to the 
 Marquis of Montrose, and the moveable to Sir John Gra- 
 ham of Gartmore. He married, first, Anne Hews; and se- 
 condly, Catherine, second daughter of Thomas Bruce of 
 Blairhall, in Perthshire, who pre-deceased him. 
 
2o8 The Lake of Monteith, 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM THE RECORD OF THE 
 SESSION-BOOK OF PORT.* 
 
 The oldest is dated ^^The 14 off Septr. 1664," and is as 
 follows: — " My Lord Bishop of Dunblane preached after 
 our minister's death." "The last of Aprill 1665, the dean 
 preached and held Session." 
 
 '^The 2d of June 1665 the clerk gat to the presbyterie, 
 and gatt nothing ffor his pains, these severall tymes." 
 
 " The 25 of June, Donald Stewartt, Andrew Donaldsone, 
 Duncan Fishar, Alexander Monteath, Wm. M'Callen, went 
 to the bishop to supplicat him for a minister, and they got 
 — sh. Scots for yer expences." 
 
 "The 27 August, Mr. Bowere, dean of Edinburgh, 
 preached." 
 
 " The 30 day of Sepr the Bishop preached." 
 
 " The 2 2d of Janry' 1667, Sir William Graham of Gart- 
 more had ane child babtised, called John. Witness, Thos. 
 
 Graham in Monduy and M'Lachlan." (This was Sir 
 
 John Graham the second and last Baronet of Gartmore.) 
 
 "The 14th February' 1667, David Lord Cardross had 
 ane child babtized, called Madelen." 
 
 " The 15 off August, Mr. William Wymes preached. The 
 
 * Copied from Mr. M'Gregor Stirling's work on Inchmahome. 
 
Extracts from the Session-Book of Port. 209 
 
 session in regard that there are persons without testimonil 
 comet to the paroch, the session has ordained that such per- 
 sons be excepted under the pain of twentie pounds Scotts." 
 
 ** The 15 off November, the said day James Donaldson 
 was admitted minister of the church." 
 
 " The 17 off Nowember the said day Mr James Donald- 
 son preached, being the first day after his admisione." 
 
 " The I of Decer the said day Mr James held session 
 being the first session. The session has considered the 
 abuse of the people in standing furth in tym of divyn 
 service. The Session has ordained that Andrew Gyloch, 
 Andrew Donaldson, go furth and search the ale houses, 
 that no persons drink in tym of divyn service, and the min- 
 ister to nominat the samen to them out of the pulpit; and 
 whosoever shall be found guiltie after intimation made, 
 shall be punished accordinglie, and trio of elders to go 
 Sunday about, and them that comes in after the hinmost 
 bell, to sit bare headit before the minr." 
 
 *'The 29 of December 1667, compeared Duncan Graham, 
 and humbled himself for breaking the act in coming in 
 after the hinmost bell and confessed his sin, and promised 
 that he should not doo the lyk againe. The session hes 
 ordaint that everie person that bees bookit, shall consigne 
 a dollor and no other thing but money, and gev in caise 
 the on parttie be without the paroche, both are to consign 
 a dollor, and the money to lye for three quarter off a year 
 after the marriage; and giv the woman be with child, boths 
 the dollor are left before marriage, and giv one off them 
 goes bak parted fairlie will loose his dollor, and the partie 
 abserver is to get his." 
 
The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 "The 12 dy off Janry' 1668, the said day Pat M'Callen 
 stood publikly befor the congregation for doing the fauld 
 of staying out till after the bell, on his knees was absolved." 
 
 *^ The 20th off Janry 1688, the session hes ordaint Margt. 
 M^Carturt, Janet Giloch, and Wm. M^Ewan, to sit before the 
 minister before the pulpit, and to ansr the minister when 
 they are called upon for their coming to the church in the 
 afternoon aft the last bell." 
 
 "The 16 off Febrie, After calling on the name of the 
 Lord, the session has enacted and ordained, that there 
 shall be no drinking after sermon except of necessitee 
 and men be thirsty, that they drink onlie a chopin of ell, 
 or the man serve persons or strangers that comes out of 
 ither parts." 
 
 "The 23 off Febrie 1668, After calling on the name of 
 the Lord, the session has ordained that two of the elders 
 goo furth everie Sunday about, that they let non of the 
 people goo away without a lawful excuse. The session, to 
 their serious consideration, considered the horribl sins and 
 great abuses that ordinarilie in all places, experience the 
 sin of drunkeness and comoning on the Lord's day, There- 
 ffor the session has acted and ordained, that no bear nor 
 ell seller within the paroch shall sell ell after sermon, 
 except in case of necessitie, folks be thirstie or fant; they 
 drink a chapon of ell, or those that are sick or those that 
 are strangers." 
 
 "The 22 of March 1668, The session has ordained John 
 Battison to go and poynd Alex Hardie, and the poynd to 
 be worth 4 lbs. Scots." 
 
 "The 23d March 1668, John Pattison went according 
 
Extracts from the Session-Book of Port. 211 
 
 to order, and finding nothing in the house but an old ax, 
 returned without any poind." 
 
 "The session holden the 5 of April 1668. The session 
 has ordained to give an half-mark to the smith for ane ern, 
 ordains to make a leg to the joges." 
 
 " On the 26 of April 1668, the qlk day the session con- 
 vened, all the elders being present except Patrick Ferguson 
 who sent his excuse that he could not come for pain of leg, 
 Archd. Graham, son of the deceyst erlle of Airth, who 
 waited on the west end, and Patrick Morrison waited on 
 the way to Cardross, report to the session that non at all 
 went from the church of Port at the fyrst sermon, and Gil- 
 bert Graham, who waited at the est end, reported non got 
 away, save some people of the paroch of Kincarn." 
 
 " The session finding, by their former and renewed act, 
 inhibiting all drinking after both sermons endit, save of a 
 chopin of ell drinking and that onlie to be taken in case 
 of necessitie, that they have no ways compassed that great 
 design which they had of suppressing that old sin and 
 scandal of this paroch, of drinking the wholl Lord's day; 
 out of their zeal against the profanatione of the Lord's day, 
 and for the keeping it the more hollie, have ordained that 
 there sail be no drinking at all after both sermons ended, 
 except persons be seik, or it be strangers, and then they 
 not to pass soberlie beyond this, under the pain of ten 
 pounds Scots, to be payit the aille seller in case the violat 
 this act; and the persons drinking to make publick satis- 
 faction therefor, befor the congregatione, and further to be 
 punished cordinglie in their persons and means as the ses- 
 sion shall think fit. And for this effect it is ordained that 
 
The Lake of Monteith. 
 
 everie elder after both sermons endit, do search for drinking, 
 the respective aille houses within their several quarters." 
 
 " The said day, compeared Walter Laganach, John Ure, 
 Patrick M'Cadem, who being proceeded again«t for drink- 
 ing on the Sabbath day, being the twelve of April, acknow- 
 ledge that they were in John M'Culloch's until the sun 
 was neir set, but that they onlie drank a chapon of aill the 
 hand, who was therefore ordained by the minister and 
 session, the next Lord's day to sit bair headit beffor the 
 pulpit, and after sermon endit to acknowledge their scandal 
 on their knees." 
 
 '^ On the 3d of May 1668, The said day the minister did 
 publiclie desire and requested the elders, according to the 
 order of the session, to insist that no brewer within the 
 paroch should sell no aille to no person except alls much as 
 wauld quench the thirst of strangers or to seik persons, and 
 no to sell no aill to no either person within the paroch, and 
 that under the paine of ten pounds Scotts, to be payit be 
 the ail seller, and the person who drink it to be punished as 
 the session shall think fit. He lykwys did intimate unto 
 the people after the first sermon, and intreated them that no 
 person shauld flyt nor scald on the Sabbath day, or no 
 ither day, or whosoever person or persons should be scold- 
 ing should be punished both in their persons and means 
 and to stand in the Jogs." 
 
 " This session has acted and ordained that no parishoner 
 goe in with a stranger after the afternoon sermon to drink 
 in ane alle houss." 
 
 "At Port, June i, 1704, being Thursday, sederunt, the 
 minister and all the elders. After prayer, the session con- 
 
Extracts from the Session- Book of Port. 213 
 
 sidering that there is a scandalous practice frequently used 
 in the parisch at publick marriages, in the time, and imme- 
 diately after the solemnization therefore, by the parties there 
 using of charms and inchantments and that notwithstanding 
 they have been sharply and openly rebuked for the same by 
 using circular motions &c; wherefore the session, for prevent- 
 ing this abominable and heathenish practice in all time com- 
 ing, do statute and ordain, that whosoever shall be found 
 guilty of such a scandalous practice, shall be oblidged to 
 appear publickly before the congregation, and be rebuked 
 for the foresaid guilt, and oppoins the said act to be publickly 
 read the next Lord's day." 
 
 Heddcrwick & Son, Printers to the Queen. 
 
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