Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers and Other PoemsAytoun, William Edmondstoune
History
Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers and Other Poems
Aytoun, William Edmondstoune
Scotland -- History -- Poetry
"SIR,--You are hereby ordered to fall upon the rebels,
the M'Donalds of Glencoe, and putt all to the sword under
seventy. You are to have special care that the old fox and
his sons doe upon no account escape your hands. You are
to secure all the avenues, that no man escape. This you
are to put in execution att five o'clock in the morning
precisely, and by that time, or very shortly after it, I'll
strive to be att you with a stronger party. If I doe not
come to you at five, you are not to tarry for me, but to fall
on. This is by the king's speciall command, for the good
and safety of the country, that these miscreants be cutt off
root and branch. See that this be putt in execution without
feud or favour, else you may expect to be treated as not
true to the king's government, nor a man fitt to carry a
commission in the king's service. Expecting you will not
faill in the fulfilling hereof as you love yourself, I subscribe
these with my hand." ROBERT DUNCANSON.
"_For their Majestys' service.
To Captain Robert Campbell of Glenlyon_."
This order was but too literally obeyed. At the appointed hour, when the
whole inhabitants of the glen were asleep, the work of murder began.
M'Ian was one of the first who fell. Drummond's narrative fills up the
remainder of the dreadful story.
"They then served all within the family in the same manner, without
distinction of age or person. In a word--for the horror of that
execrable butchery must give pain to the reader--they left none alive
but a young child, who, being frightened with the noise of the guns, and
the dismal shrieks and cries of its dying parents, whom they were
a-murdering, got hold of Captain Campbell's knees, and wrapt itself
within his cloak; by which, chancing to move compassion, the captain
inclined to have saved it, but one Drummond, an officer, arriving about
the break of day with more troops, commanded it to be shot by a file of
musqueteers. Nothing could be more shocking and horrible than the
prospect of these houses bestrewed with mangled bodies of the dead,
covered with blood, and resounding with the groans of wretches in the
last agonies of life.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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