Our Western Hills: How to reach them; And the Views from their Summits: By a Glasgow Pedestrian — John Shaqi
Our Western Hills: How to reach them; And the Views from their Summits: By a Glasgow PedestrianAnonymous
History
Our Western Hills: How to reach them; And the Views from their Summits: By a Glasgow Pedestrian
Anonymous
Hiking -- Scotland; Scotland -- Description and travel
It may be interesting to some who have taken part in recent political
elections for Dumbartonshire to know that Arrochar House, on the
opposite shore of the loch from the Cobbler, the residence of the last
chief of the Macfarlans, was at one time in the possession of the
laird of Novar. It was, however, rented by the Duke of Argyll, and
until lately was a most acceptable shelter to the tourist. It is now
a private residence. The land immediately to the north of you at one
time belonged to “the wild Macfarlan’s plaided clan.” They were great
depredators on the low country, and as their raids were often made at
night, the moon came to be familiarly called “Macfarlan’s lantern.”
Their place of assembling was Loch Sloy—“the Loch of the Lost”—near the
foot of Voirlich, from which they took their war-cry of “Loch Sloy,
Loch Sloy!” There once stood near to it a large plantation of firs, in
which on one occasion the men of Athole hid to surprise the Macfarlan.
But his son Duncan surrounded it and set fire to it, destroying the
whole of the foe. The cruelty of the exploit gained for him the name
of “Duncan the Black Son of Mischief,” or Donucha-dubb-na-Dunnaidh,
which latter will give those who “haven’t the Gaelic” an idea of what
a Gaelic name looks like when in full dress. But Duncan seems to have
been a son of stratagem too, for we read that when once attacked by the
Athole men he kept watch, a little way off from a river which they had
to cross, took a remarkable coat of mail which belonged to his father
and fixed it on a tree. The enemy supposed it to be Macfarlan himself,
and their commander offered a reward to any who would shoot it, on
which the archers let fly their arrows fast and furious, but futile.
Duncan and his men when they had finished coolly picked them up,
attacked them all unarmed while crossing the ford, and obtained an easy
victory. This clan, which almost gained at one time a reputation equal
to that of the Macgregors for wholesale disturbance and depredation in
the lowland district, were declared in 1587 to be one of those clans
for whom the chief was made responsible. In 1624 some of them were
tried, convicted, and punished, and the rest removed to Aberdeenshire
and Banffshire. The lands have passed out of their hands altogether;
and the chiefs house, as already mentioned, is now a private residence.
Taking one more fond look of the grand panorama, we make the descent
in time to catch either the Loch Long steamer or the evening one
from Tarbet, and in course of time are transplanted from the land of
mountain and flood to the prosaic life and work of the city.
BEN LOMOND.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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