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18*5, Louisa Jane Hamilton, second daughter of Colonel George William Hulnie3 Ross of Cromarty, with issue—

1. Somerled Godfrey James, his hoir, horn 187G.

2. Godfrey Evan Hugh, bom 1879.

;i. Archibald Ronald Armadale, bom 1880.

Thb History Of The Macdovalds Of Glengarry will bo commenced in the next number, after which that ot the family of Clanranald, and other leading branches of the Clan. The Macdonalds of Kingsburgh, Castletown, and other minor families which have branched off from the family of Sleat will be treated at length in the work when puhlished separately in book form. Meanwhile the author will be glad to receive information from memhers of these families, as well as from those of any family of the name of Macdouald as to the history and genealogy of each, and of their own connection with any of the historic names or families of the Clan.


An excellent example, well worthy of imitation, has been set hy the Burns Club of Hamilton, which is one of the most prosperous associations of the kind in Scotland. At its annual dinner, held on the anniversary of tho poet's birthday, under the presidency of Mr William Brown, solicitor, one of the speakers (the Rev. William H. Wylie, Helensburgh) said that it had always appeared to him that the Burns clubs, while celebrating the birth of the national poet, ought to prove the reality of their gratitude by addressing themselves to the task of succouring such of the living sons of song as might he in circumstances calling for help. At the present moment, for example, the attention of the country had been called by the editor of the Celtic Magazine to the case of Mr Evan Maccoll, the "Bard of Lochfyne," who in his old age had been left poorly provided for, and that after a protracted term of service in the Canadian Customs, where his conduct had been in the highest degree exemplary. The speaker suggested that it would be a graceful and appropriate action, and would give practical value to the eloquence of the speeches of the evening, if they were to make a grant from their funds to the testimonial which it was proposed to get up for the author of the "Mountain Minstrel," who had been declared by so high an authority as Hugh Miller to be tho "Moore of the Highlands," and whose personal character had won for him the respect of all who knew him. The suggestion was warmly responded to by the meeting; and, on the motion of Mr Watt, solicitor, it was at once resolvod that the committee should be authorised to send an offering of £5 to the Maccoll Testimonial.—Oreenock Telegraph.

Dr Nicolson'8 Gaelic Proverbs received, and will be noticed in an early issue.


The following is a true narrative of the adventures and exploits of Donald Macleod, a Highland soldier, who was bum in the year 1GS8 in the parish of Bracadale, Isle of Skye. Though in humble circumstances, both his parents were descended from good families, his father being a cadet of the house of Ulinish, while his mother belonged to the Macdonalds of Sleat. The earlier part of our hero's life coincided with that dreadful period of Buffering in the Highlands known as the " seven years' famine," his childhood was passed in the midst of want and hardships, cold and Lunger, which not only had the elfect of stunting his growth, but caused his young life to bo so wretched and miserable that he never cared to speak about it in after life. "When he was about ten years old, a stone-cutter and mason from Inverness named Macpherson happened to be in his neighbourhood on business, and being struck with the intelligence displayed by young Donald, he offered to take him as an apprentice. This offer was eagerly accepted both by his parents and himself, they felt it a relief to have one mouth less to feed, while Donald, with the natural buoyancy of youth looked forward with delight to living in a town like Inverness, where surely there would be more comfort and enjoyment than he had ever found at home. He was not long, however, in discovering his mistake. He found food was as scarce in Inverness as it had been in Skye, while in addition he had to work hard from morning to night. His masters, for there were two brothers in the iirm to which he was apprenticed, were not cruel men; but the times were hard, they found it difficult to procure sufficient for their own families, consequently poor Donald had to exist on a miserable allowance of the coarsest food, and even that given with grudging looks. Many a time did the poor lad wish himself back in Bracadale, where at least, if he was half starved, he met with love and sympathy instead of, as now, sour looks, hard words, and harder work, fie straggled on manfully for two years, when seeing no chance of his condition being improved, he made up his mind to run away; so one cold frosty morning in December 1699, he turned his back on Inverness, and without a penny in his pocket, and only one spare shirt as his sole luggage, ho started on his travels, with no very definite ideas of his future, excepting the desire to go south, and put as great a distance between himself and Inverness as he possibly could, his great dread being that he might be caught and taken back by his masters to finish his apprenticeship. He consequently hurried on as fast as his strength would permit, avoiding the high road, but ever keoping his face to the south. The weather was unusually severe, his brogues and stockings wore soon worn away; so that he had to travel over the snow barefooted. He had to beg food from the houses on his route, and he always chose the humblest and poorest looking, for he found the truth of the old proverb, " the poor are always kindest to the poor." Often did he get a piece of oatcake, or a little porridge, from poor women who had to stint themselves to givo it, accompanied with kind words which did him almost as much good as the food, while at the larger farms and gentle* men's houses he would be driven away with tlireats and curses. His snU'erings from cold, hunger, and fatigue during his wearisome journey were indescribable ; but he bore up bravely, sustained by hopes of a bettor future, ami by the sense of freedom and independence which he experienced in thus being his own master. At length lie reached Aberfeldy, where, the bridge not being then built, and Donald having no money to pay the ferry, he was at a loss how to proceed. While wandering disconsolately about he met an elderly woman who appeared by her dress and appearance to be in comfortable circumstances. She entered into conversation with him, and asked him a great many questions as to his antecedents. His replies seemed to interest her, and she took him home with her, gave him food and lodging, and eventually offered to keep him altogether in place of her son who had died a short time before, and whom she fancied Donald resembled. Our hero was deeply touched by her kindness, but considered he was yet too near Inverness to be safe from pursuit, so with many expressions of gratitude he took leave of his new found friend, she first giving him a shilling and a warm handkerchief for his neck. Donald might now have crossed the ferry, but lie was unwilling to spend his shilling, so turning eastwards he pursued his journey along the north side of the Tay until he reached Logierait, at the junction of the Tay and the Tummel. There was a ferry across the latter river, but our careful young traveller still grudging to break into his precious coin, boldly determined to ford the river, and actually did so, though the water was breast high. As he emerged dripping on the opposite side, and while wringing tho water from his ragged kilt, he solaced himself for the discomfort by the pleasing reflection that he had saved his shilling. Alas! ho was soon robbed even of that crumb of comfort, for, as he neared Dunkeld, he was met by one of the numerous footpads who infested the highways at that time, and who, with heartless cruelty, not only compelled poor Donald to give up his carefully cherished shilling, but actually had the meanness to take the handkerchief from the poor lad's neck, the oidy decent article of dress he had. Almost broken-hearted Donald plodded sadly along, until utterly worn out, he was glad to creep into a sheep-cot and nestle for warmth among the sheep.

In the afternoon of tho next day ho reached Perth, where at firet he felt more desolate than when travelling through the loneliest parts of the country. True, there were plenty of people, plenty of shops filled with rich stores of food and clothing, plenty of good houses, but bitter experience had taught Donald that it was not from such as these that ho could expect either sympathy or relief. However, towards the evening he found himself in a poorer part of the town, and noticing a poor, but kind looking woman, sitting at her door spinning, he ventured to speak to her, and ask for the assistance he so sorely noeded. Nor was ho disappointed. Poor widow as she was, her heart warmed to the forlorn boy. She was still more interested in him when she found he could speak Gaelic, for she was a Highland woman herself. She invited him to her humble home, and placed before the half-steirved boy a plate of good meut broth with plenty of bread. This was, to use his own words, "the firet plentiful meal that he had ever received to the best of his remembrance in hi3 life." Having satisfied the cravings of hunger he immediately fell asleep, when his kind hostess put him to bed, where he slept soundly till the next morning. On rising he found his friend already up and spinning. Fearing to appear intrusive, Donald with many thanks proposed to take his leave, but the kind-hearted woman would not hear of it. Seeing he was barefooted, sho went to a chest and brought out both shoes and stockings, which had belonged to a son who had died about six months before, and gave them to Donald, shedding a few natural tears at the same time. She now invited Donald to stop another night, and in the meantime conversed with him in her beloved Gaelic tongue about the place and people ho had left, and about his own family, Being now at a considerable distance from Inverness his apprehensions of recapture hegan to abate, and he told his whole story to Mary Forbes, for that was the widow's name, and asked her if she thought there was any chance of his obtaining some employment in Perth, as lie was tired of rambling like a vagrant through the country. After thinking a little, Mrs Forbes said she thought she knew of a place that would suit him, and telling him to stay and mind the house, she went out on her charitable errand, and soon returned with a respectable young man who kept a shop near the south end of the Watergate, and who wanted a decent lad to help him in his business. He was a Strathearn man, by name James Macdonald. He was much pleased at Donald's appearance and manners, and after satisfying himself that he had a healthy skin as well as goodjlooks, not by any means an unnecessary precaution when cutaneous diseases were almost universal, he took him home with him, agreeing to give him board and lodging as well as a small wage. Mr Macdonald was not married; his mother lived with him and kept house for him. She also was taken with Donald's good looks, and kindly gave him new shirts, stockings, jacket and vest, and would also have given him trousers; but Donald prefered to retain the kilt, to which ho had always boon accustomed.

In this comfortable place Donald was quite happy; ho served his master with so much diligence and intelligence that he was soon trusted and looked upon as one of the family. To show the confidence reposed in him, on one occasion Mr Macdonald had to send a large sum of money (£69) to Edinburgh, and determined to trust Donald with the commission, at whose suggestion the gold was sewn up in his clothes, and with a supply of bread and cheese and two shillings in his pocket, Donald started on his journey of forty miles, at eight o'clock in the morning. By six in the evening he reached Kinghorn, where he got a boat to carry him across the Firth of Forth to Leith iu little more than an hour. From Loith ho ran to Edinburgh in half-au-hour, delivered the money safely, and got the receipt, with a gratuity of a shilling to himself. With his usual carefulness he did not spend his money in getting lodgings, but found a night's Rhelter in a stable in the Canongate. Getting up in good time, he re-crossed the Firth next morning, and towards evening made his appearance in Perth. Old Mrs Macdonald on seeing him back so soon, thought he had met with an accident on the way, and exclaimed in consternation, "Oh! Donald, what has happened? what has brought you back?" By producing the receipt, however, he soon convinced her and his master that he had executed his commission faithfully as well as speedily.

Soon after this thoie arrived iu Perth a recruiting party, beating up for Volunteers to serve His Majesty King William III. in the regiment of the Royal Scots, then commanded by the Earl of Orkney. This old and distinguished corps still carried bows and arrows, as well as swords and targets, and wore steel caps, which glittered and shone like silver in the sunlight Donald gazed in unbounded admiration at the martial appearance of the little band; for once ho became unmindful of his message; he followed the party from street to street, until he felt his heart beat time to the trumpet and the drum, and forgetting his size and years (not yet thirteen), presented himself before the sergeant and offered himself as a volunteer. At first his overtures were met with laughter and derision, but Donald was not to be turned from his purpose; and in spite of all the inducements held out to him by his worthy master and mistress, backed up by the entreaties and even tears of his good friend, Widow Forbes, a soldier he would be, and at last succeeded in inducing the seigeant to enlist him. From that day, through the whole of a long life, Donald Macleod faithfully served his king and country as a soldier. Soon after he enlisted, the Royal Scots were ordered to Flanders to join the army under the command of the famous Duke of Marlborough. After serving through the whole of that campaign, Donald, now Sergeant Macleod, exchanged into the Black Watch and served under the Duke of Arsjyll in the rebellion of 1715. Then in the same regiment, under their new name of the 42nd, he went again to Flanders, under the Duke of Cumberland. He then, still in the same regiment, served through the troubles in Ireland, until, on the breaking out of the French War in America in 1757, the 42nd was ordered there. During his service in America he was drafted from the 42nd to act as drill-sergeant in the 78th Regiment, in which he served at the reduction of Louisbourg and Quebec, under the immortal and gallant General Wolfe. Being severely wounded at that famous battle, he was invalided home, and was one of those who had the melancholy honour of escorting the corpse of General Wolfe to Britain. In consideration of his long and trying services, he was admitted in 1759 an out pensioner at Chelsea Hospital.

But such was the spirit of this brave and hardy vetoran, that though in his 73d year he offered himself as a volunteer, and served under the Marquis of Granby in Germany in 1761. On his return from there, still animated with his old martial spirit, he went again to America and offered his services to Sir Henry Clinton, who, though he declined to employ the old man in the fatigues and dangers of war, treated him with great kindness, allowed him a liberal weekly pension out of his own pocket, and sent him home in a ship charged with despatches to Government. This was the last military service rendered by Sergeant Donald Macleod, who was in 1791, in the 103d year of his age, still a pensioner at Chelsea. Here we must leave the brave old Highlander, and cannot do so better than by quoting the concluding portion of the very interesting biography, written in 1791, from which we have taken the above facts :—" Donald Macleod in his prime did not exceed five feet seven inches. He is now inclined through age to five feet five inches. He has an interesting physiognomy, expressive of sincerity, sensibility, and manly courage. As his memory is impaired, he does not pretend to make an exact enumeration of all his offspring; but he knows of sixteen sons now living, fourteen of whom are now in the army and navy, besides daughters, the eldest of whom by his present wile is a mantua maker in Newcastle, His eldest

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