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\centerline{\bigtitle The Massacre of Glencoe}
\vskip 2pc
\centerline{---{}---{}---{}---{}---}
\vskip 1pc
\centerline{\sciii By JOHN STIRLING}
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\centerline{---{}---{}---{}---{}---}
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It is impossible to go through the Pass
of Glencoe---wilderness of bleak mountain and
terrible gorge---without being thrilled and
terrified.  Mountains, with iron and grey
flanks, lift to the sky.  In the glen can be
seen the Chancellor, the Three Sisters of
Glencoe, and Aonach Eagach---the ``notched
hill.''

The rugged features of Glencoe are almost
terrible in their beauty, and a fitter spot could
not be found anywhere for the scene of an
historical crime.

Macaulay, the famous historian, says of
it\thinspace:---In the Gaelic tongue, Glencoe signifies
The Glen of Weeping\thinspace; and, in truth, that pass
is the most dreary and most melancholy of all
the Scottish passes---The very Valley of the
Shadow of Death.
\goodpage
% page 2
Mists and storms brood over it through
the greatest part of the finest summer\thinspace; and
even on those rare days when the sun is
bright, and when there is no cloud in the sky,
the impression made by the landscape is sad
and awful.  Huge precipices of naked stone
frown on both sides, marking the headlong
paths of the torrents.  Mile after mile the
only sound that indicates life is the faint cry
of a bird of prey from some storm-beaten
pinnacle of rock.

On the face of a mountain is Ossian's
Cave, and behind the Devil's Staircase,\break
through which escaped two sons of the Chief
of MacDonald when the diabolical commands
of Dalrymple were being carried out.

On the bank of the River Coe is a Celtic
Cross on which is written --- ``Reverently
Erected in Memory of  MacIain, Chief of %  sic  M$^{\hbox{\twelverm c}}$Ian
Glencoe, who fell with his people in the
Massacre of Glencoe, on February 13, 1692.
Their memory liveth for evermore.''

Although it is two centuries since the
Campbells abused the hospitality of the
MacDonalds, there still exists a rivalry
between certain members of the Clans.  Can
you wonder at it\thinspace?

I have paid two visits to the Pass of
Glencoe.  On each occasion I was much
impressed with the rugged and stupendous
% page 3
cliffs of the glen.  It was with feelings of pain,
akin to that of mingled hate and revenge,
that I beheld the field where the massacre
took place.  As I gazed, my thoughts wandered
away back to that far-off time when it
was peopled by the MacDonalds\thinspace; and, as a
token of respect, I bared my head in loving
memory of the brutally murdered old Chief
and his clan.

The companions that accompanied me
had an alfresco meal near to the Pass, during
which we much admired a rivulet tumbling
down, white as snow, from the very top of
the mountains.

The gruesome story of the massacre is
familiar to all, but its circumstances will bear
repeating.

In December 1691, MacIain, Chief of
the MacDonalds of Glencoe, his snow-white
hair falling on his shoulders, went to Fort
William to take the Oath of Allegiance to
William III.  He was told that the submission
must be made at Inverary.  At 3 o'clock in
the morning the aged warrior sets out for
Inverary, travelling for two days without rest
through a blinding snowstorm, where he is
told that Ardkinglass, the Sherriff Depute, has
gone off on a Hogmanay celebration.

MacIain's submission is overdue two
days, and the Sheriff does not return for other
three days, when he chides MacIain for having
% page 4
delayed.  However, he said he would swear
him, but could not guarantee that it would
be in order.

The submission of his certificate was
forwarded to Edinburgh, accompanied by a
full explanation of the circumstances\thinspace; but, as
the Sheriff of Argyll's letter had never been
produced before the Council, it was pronounced
null and void, and a body of troops
was despatched to Glencoe with secret orders
to ``extirpate that set of thieves.''

It seems, therefore, that the fact of the
Chief's submission was altogether concealed
from the King, and that MacIain was held
out in the light of a desperate and incorrigible
leader of banditti, who was the main obstacle
to the peace of the Highlands.

The position of the Highlands was being
discussed in London at this time by Sir John
Dalrymple, the Master of Stair, the Duke of
Argyll, and the King.

In a letter Dalrymple wrote---``My Lord
Argyll tells me that Glencoe hath not taken
the oath, at which I rejoice.  It's a good work
of charity to be exact in rooting out this
damnable sept---the worst in the Highlands.''

On the first day of February news\break
reached Glencoe that a detachment of Campbells
was approaching, when the old Chief
scents danger.

% page 5
``Here's a burden, cousin,'' said Glenlyon,
who led the Campbells.  ``It's no doing of
mine, but a poor soldier must obey orders.
We only seek bed and bite for a week or
two.''

``You are welcome, you and your lads,''
replied MacDonald.  ``It's not much that
Glencoe has to offer, but its all yours for the
taking.''

In the homes of the MacDonalds, the
soldiers of Argyll are shown the highest
hospitality.  Whatever rivalry has existed is
forgotten.  After eleven days there is a change
in Glenlyon's manner.  He becomes gloomy
and depressed.

On the very night of the massacre,
Captain Campbell sat up playing cards with
the old Chief's sons, so friendly was the intercourse
between the soldiers and the clansmen.
This was a most despicable action.

The MacDonalds become anxious.  And,
although Glenlyon joins MacIain's two
sons, and laughs and jokes with them,
it was strange behaviour for a soldier
who had been ordered that day to murder
those with whom he and his men had supped
for two weeks\thinspace!

The following is the order written by
Dalrymple to Glenlyon\thinspace:---``You are ordered
to fall upon the rebelle, the MacDonalds of
Glenco, and to put to the sword all under
%page 6
seventy.  You are to have a special care that
the old fox and his sons do not escape.  This
you are to put into execution at five o'clock
precisely.  This is by the King's special
commands, that these miscreants be cutt off
root and branch.''

At five o'clock in the morning the
Campbells prepare for the massacre, heavy
snow falling before a strong gale\thinspace; when the
soldiers appear at the door of the MacIain, they
ask permission to discuss important business
that has arisen suddenly.

As the seventy-year-old Chief is struggling
into his clothes he is shot\thinspace; his wife
stripped, and the rings torn from her fingers.
Amidst the wild tempest the shots cannot be
heard, and in the houses of the glen bayonets
are thrust into the sleeping victims.

The two sons of the ancient Chieftan
were not so confident as their father respecting
the peaceful and friendly purpose of their
guests.  They observed, on the evening preceding
the massacre, that the sentinels were
doubled and the mainguard strengthened.

John, the elder brother, had even overheard
the soldiers muttering amongst themselves
that they cared not about fighting the
men of the glen fairly, but did not like the
nature of the service they were engaged in\thinspace;
while others consoled themselves with the
military logic, that their officers must be
answerable for the orders given, they having
no choice but to obey them.

Alarmed with what had been observed
and heard, the two brothers hastened to
Glenlyon's quarters, where they found that
officer and his men preparing their arms.

On questioning him about these suspicious
appearances, Glenlyon accounted for
them by the story that he was bound on an
expedition against some of Glengary's men\thinspace:
and, alluding to the circumstance of their
alliance, which made his own cruelty more
detestable, he added---``If anything evil had
been intended, would I not have told Alastair
and my niece\thinspace?''

I may say here that Glenlyon's niece---%
sister of Rob Roy---was married to Alastair
MacDonald, younger son of the old Chieftan.
Scarcely a day passed that he did not visit
the house of Alastair, and take his morning
dram, agreeably to the most approved practice
of Highland hospitality.

Re-assured by this communication, the
young men retired to rest\thinspace; but were speedily
awakened by an old domestic, who called on
the two brothers to rise and fly for their lives.

``Is it time for you,'' he said, ``to be sleeping,
when your father is murdered on his
own hearth\thinspace?''
%page 8

This roused, they hurried out in great
terror, and heard throughout the glen, where\-ever
there was a place of human habitation,
the shouts of the murderers, the report of
the muskets, the screams of the wounded,
and the groans of the dying.

By their perfect knowledge of the cliffs
amongst which they dwelt, they were enabled
to escape observation, and fled to the southern
access of the glen.

Meantime, the work of death proceeded
with as little remorse as Stair could have
desired\thinspace: even the slight mitigation respecting
those over seventy years was disregarded
by the soldiers, who, in their discriminate thirst for blood, killed several aged
and bedridden persons.

At the hamlet where Glenlyon had his
quarters, nine men, including his landlord,
were bound and shot like felons\thinspace; and one of
them, MacDonald of Auchintraiton, although
he had General Hill's passport in his pocket
at the time, had the same fate unscrupulously
meted out to him.

A fine lad of twenty had, by some compassion
on the part of the soldiers, been
spared\thinspace: Captain Drummond, coming on the
scene, demanded to know why the orders had
been transgressed, and caused him instantly
to be put to death.
% page 9

A boy of five or six years of age, clung
to Glenlyon's knees, entreating for mercy, and
offering to become his servant for life, if he
would spare him.  Glenlyon was moved\thinspace; but
Drummond stabbed the child with his dirk,
while he was in this agony of supplication.

The alarm being now general, many
persons, male and female, attempted to escape.
Flying from their burning huts, the half-naked
fugitives rushed into a winter morning of
darkness, snow, and storm, amidst a wilderness
the most savage in the Western Highlands.
Bewildered in the snow-wreaths,
several sank to rise no more.  But the
severities of the storm were tender mercies
compared with the unspeakable cruelty of their
persecutors.

After the destruction of the houses, a
heartrending scene ensued.  Aged matrons,
women with child, mothers with babies at
their breast, and children toddling after them,
might be seen wending their way, half-naked,
towards the mountains in quest of some
friendly hovel, beneath whose roof they might
seek shelter from the pitiless tempest and
deplore their unhappy fate.

Thirty-eight MacDonalds perish---\break among
them a woman, an aged man, and a child of
four years of age.  Others perish in the snowdrifts
of the gorges through which they try
to leave in safety.  As dawn broke smoke
% page 10
rose from the burning homes of the
MacDonalds.

This detestable butchery excited general
horror and disgust, not only throughout
Scotland, but also in foreign countries.

Stair, however, seemed undaunted, and
had the infamy to write to Colonel Hill, while
public indignation was at the highest, that all
that could be said of the matter was, that
the execution was not so complete as it might
have been.

Such is a brief account of the brutal
Massacre of Glencoe.

Sir Walter Scott, in one of his poems,
entitled ``The Massacre of Glencoe,'' referring
to this episode, says\thinspace:---
\poem{
The hand that mingled in the meal,\\
At midnight drew the felon steel,\\
And gave the host's kind breast to feel\\
\quad Meed for his hospitality\thinspace!\\%  Meed: obsolete word for 'reward'
The friendly hearth which warm'd that hand,\\
At midnight arm'd it with the brand,\\
That bade destruction's flames expand\\
\quad Their red and fearful blazonry.\\
\stanza
Then woman's shriek was heard in vain,\\
Nor infancy's unpitied pain,\\
More than the warrior's groan could gain\\
\quad Respite from ruthless butchery\thinspace!\\
% page 11
The winter wind that whistled shrill,\\
The snows that night that cloak'd the hill,\\
Though wild and pitiless, had still\\
\quad Far more than Southron clemency.\\
\stanza
Long have my harp's best notes been gone,\\
Few are its strings, and faint their tone,\\
They can but sound in desert lone\\
\quad Their grey-hair'd master's misery.\\
Were each grey hair a minstrel string,\\
Each chord should imprecations fling,\\
Till startled Scotland loud should ring---\\
\quad Revenge for blood and treachery\thinspace!\\
}

In conclusion, let me say that no public
notice was taken of this abominable crime
until 1695---three years after it had been
committed---when, late and reluctantly, a
Royal Commission, loudly demanded by the
Scottish nation, was granted, to make enquiries
into the affair, and report the issue of
their investigations to Parliament.

The members of the Commission,\break though
\hfil selected\hfil as\hfil favourable\hfil to\hfil King\break William, proved
that the letters and instructions of Stair to
Colonel Hill and others, were the sole cause
of the murders.  They slurred over the King's
share of the guilt that Stair's instructions
went beyond the warrant, and reported that
the whole weight of the charge fell on the
Master of Stair.
%page 12

It was proved that the King knew nothing
of MacIain's offering to take the oaths within
the time, nor of his having taken them soon
after it was past\thinspace; that the instructions of
Stair had been the warrant for the slaughter\thinspace;
that it was unauthorised by the King's
orders\thinspace; and that the action deserved no other
name save that of a barbarous murder.

The report further named the Master of
Stair as the deviser, and the military officers
employed as perpetrators, and suggested that
Parliament should instruct his Majesty to
send home Glenlyon and the other murderers
to be tried.

Stair was deprived of his office, obliged
to retire from public affairs, and general
indignation banished him entirely from public
life.  He died in 1707---on the day when the
Treaty of Union was signed---not without
suspicion of suicide.  So ended the career of
one of the most unscrupulous villains that
ever polluted this land of ours.

Captain Campbell of Glenlyon, Captain
Drummond, Major Duncanson, and other
officers were left to be dealt with by the
King\thinspace; but they having gone to Flanders, the
affair was allowed to fizzle out.
\vfill\eject
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\pageno 12
% blank page, no page number, page number not incremented
\null\eject
\wantheadtrue
%page 13
\thinspace
\hbox to 1em{\vbox to 1in{}}
\centerline{\smallertitle{THE LAST OF THE MacDONALDS}}
\vskip 1pc
\centerline{\smallertitle{DIES IN THE}}
\vskip 1pc
\centerline{\smallertitle{``GLEN OF WEEPING.''}}
\vskip 1.5pc
\centerline{---{}---{}---{}---{}---}
\vskip 1.5pc
\centerline{\smallertitle{LAMENT SUNG IN HIS MEMORY}}
\vskip 1pc
\centerline{\smallertitle{BY KENNETH MACRAE.}}
\vskip 1.5pc
\centerline{---{}---{}---{}---{}---}
\vskip 1.5pc
Angus MacDonald, the last of the MacDonalds
of Glencoe, died on Tuesday, 3rd
November, 1936, at his cottage at Tayfuirst,
in the ``Glen of Weeping.''  He was 84 years
of age.  Thus the last link with the massacred
clan is severed, and Gaeldom has lost one of its
most picturesque figures.

He had been out during the day, and
went home at night and retired early to bed.
Thinking he had fallen into a state of unconsciousness,
members of the family became
alarmed and sent for a doctor.  Mr MacDonald
died before the doctor arrived.
%page 14

The Lament for the Sons of Gencoe was %   https://www.bartleby.com/lit-hub/poems-of-places-an-anthology-in-31-volumes/lament-for-glencoe/
sung in his memory at a concert held in Fort
William on Thursday night by a well-known
Gaelic singer, Mr Kenneth Macrae, whom I
have had the pleasure of meeting, and with
whom I have held interesting conversations.

The audience listened with heads bowed,
for Mr Macrae, who has sung this song to
Scots exiled in all parts of the world, sang
with deep emotion.

Angus MacDonald was a patriarchal
figure, and his flowing beard and proud bearing
will not soon be forgotten.

Every year, on 13th February, the
anniversary of the massacre, wearing a heavy
plaid and his clan's tartan, he went to the
memorial cairn to pay homage to his forefathers.
There he would stand, with head
bowed, his snow-white hair flowing in the
chill winter wind.

He was buried in St.~John's Churchyard,
in Ballachulish, when all the Clans were
represented.  There was a general stoppage
of work, and the slate quarries at Ballachulish
were closed.

Hundreds of people attended the funeral,
many coming from Glenetive--20 miles away.
They followed the cortege under grey skies
from the little cottage at Glencoe.
% page 15

They passed through the scene of tragic
memory where MacDonald's ancestors suffered
never-to-be-forgotten cruelties.

St.~John's Church was packed, where
MacDonald had been a faithful worshipper.
The service was in Gaelic, unless for a 16th
century English hymn, Deo Gracias, which
was led by the united choirs of St.~John's and
St.~Mary's Churches.

As the congregation filed out to the
graveside the Lament for the MacDonalds of
Glencoe was played on the organ.
\vskip 1.5pc
\centerline{---{}---{}---{}---{}---}
\vskip 1.5pc
Their memory liveth for evermore.
\bye
