counties one of the committee of noblemen and gentlemen to
report their griefs to the privy council of Charles II. anent the coming
in of the Highland host in 1678.' For undertaking this patriotic task he
underwent a fine, to pay which he was obliged to mortgage half of the
remaining moiety of his paternal property. This loss he might have
recovered by dint of severe economy, but on the breaking out of Argyle's
rebellion Dennis Bertram was again suspected by government, apprehended,
sent to Dunnotar Castle on the coast of the Mearns, and there broke his
neck in an attempt to escape from a subterranean habitation called the
Whigs' Vault, in which he was confined with some eighty of the same
persuasion. The apprizer therefore (as the holder of a mortgage was then
called) entered upon possession, and, in the language of Hotspur, 'came
me cranking in,' and cut the family out of another monstrous cantle of
their remaining property.

Donohoe Bertram, with somewhat of an Irish name and somewhat of an Irish
temper, succeeded to the diminished property of Ellangowan. He turned out
of doors the Reverend Aaron Macbriar, his mother's chaplain (it is said
they quarrelled about the good graces of a milkmaid); drank himself daily
drunk with brimming healths to the king, council, and bishops; held
orgies with the Laird of Lagg, Theophilus Oglethorpe, and Sir James
Turner; and lastly, took his grey gelding and joined Clavers at
Killiecrankie. At the skirmish of Dunkeld, 1689, he was shot dead by a
Cameronian with a silver button (being supposed to have proof from the
Evil One against lead and steel), and his grave is still called the
Wicked Laird's Lair.

His son Lewis had more prudence than seems usually to have belonged to
the family. He nursed what property was yet left to him; for Donohoe's
excesses, as well as fines and forfeitures, had made another inroad upon
the estate. And although even he did not escape the fatality which
induced the Lairds of Ellangowan to interfere with politics, he had yet
the prudence, ere he went out with Lord Kenmore in 1715, to convey his
estate to trustees, in order to parry pains and penalties in case the
Earl of Mar could not put down the Protestant succession. But Scylla and
Charybdis--a word to the wise--he only saved his estate at expense of a
lawsuit, which again subdivided the family property. He was, however, a
man of resolution. He sold part of the lands, evacuated the old cattle,
where the