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age, and with no small interest learned that Rory of the Glen, or as he was styled in the vernacular tongue of the Glen, Ruaraidh'-Ghlinne, had, from time immemorial, reigned the most formidable goblin of Glenaverain, and that he was the standing bugbear of naughty urchins, and the terror of benighted travellers. At the sound of Rory's voice the shepherd's colly would bristle his neck and crouch among his master's feet, and the equestrian's pony woidd prick up his ears, and, despite of spur or lash, stand stock still on the heath.

Various traditions wore current in the neighbourhood regarding this arch-brownie's history, but the most commonly received one bore that, while in the body, he had been a poor pedlar, or hawker of small hardware articles; that he had been robbed by some miscreants, and then thrown over the rock called by his name, Scuir-a Ruari, which his restless spirit still haunts, and that he had several times made himself visible, during a flash of lightning, with his small box of goods slung from his shoulder to the horror of some benighted shepherd.

"And sure enough," said the credulous smuggler, "when I saw her nainsell with that tin can hanging from her neck, I thought it was as surely Rory as that I was in the body. Since I heard him roarin' o'er the way, I have not been able to get my mind off him, and many a time have I looked to the door, when I have heard anything stir in the wind, aye thinkin' when he would be in on me. I can assure you Rory of the Glen is no canny neighbour. There was once a dread-nought kind o' chap down the water-side a bit, and nothing would satisfy him, one night, when he heard Rory crying, but he must go and seek him, believing it to be some poor benighted creature that had lost its way on the hill aud was trying to make its state known to folks that might help it. It was daylight before he came back, but nobody knows what happened to him, for he never would open his mouth about it; only he aye looked waesome when Rory was mentioned after that, and he never sought to visit him again." (lo be Continued.)

THE SCOTTISH TITLES.—The Duke of Athole boasts the most titles of any member of the peerage, being Duke of Athole, Marquis of Tullibardine, Marquis of Athole, Earl of Tullibardine, Earl of Athole, Earl of Strathtay and Strathardle, Viscount of Balquhidar, Viscount of Glenalmond and Glenlyon, Baron Murray, Baron Balvenie and Gask, Baron Percy, Baron Lucy, Baron Poynings, Fitzpayne and Bryan, Baron Latimer, Baron Strange, Earl Strange and Baron Glenlyon. It is as Earl Strange that he sits in the Lords. Next to him come the Dukes of Argyll and Hamilton, with each sixteen inferior titles; the Marquis of Bute has fifteen: the Duke of Buccleuch, fifteen; the Duke of Northumberland, thirteen, and so on. The Princess Louise's father-in-law sits in the House of Lords as Baron Sandridge and Hamilton. The Duke of Hamilton, who sits as Duke of Brandon and Baron Dutton, has the distinction of being a Duke in three peerages—of Hamilton, in Scotland; of Brandon, in Great Britain, and of Chatelherault, in France; while the Duke of Richmond and Gordon holds the Scottish Dukedom of Aubigny. It is worth noticing, en paMant, that many peers write their names differently from the names of the places their names suggest: Thus we have the Argyll, Athole, Anglesey, Clanmell, Donegall. Westmorland and Winchilsea—not Argyle, Athol, Anglesea, Clanmel, Donegal, Westmoreland and Winchelsea. There are many instances of the same title being held by different persons. Thus there are five Lords Hamilton, as many Lords Harvard, and as many Lords Stewart, or Stuart; four Lords Douglas, four Lords Grey, four Lords Herbert, &c., to say nothing of such near resemblance as Delamar and Delamere, Dumfries and Dumfriesshire, Devon and Devonshire, &c.

By Colis CmsnoLM.


In a short Gaelic speech, delivered by me at the last annual assembly of the Gaelic Society of Inverness, and reported in the Celtic Magazine for August, it is stated that the famous Captain Campbell (" Caimbeulach dubh Earraghael") was not without some sympathy with his neighbours, when he acted as the officer in command of the camp at Browlin in 1746. 1 may here give an instance. Some cattle belonging to my great-grandfather, Colin Chisholm, formerly at Lietrie, strayed across from Glencannich to Glenstrathfarar. The old gentleman went to see Captain Campbell, who not only released the cattle, but while they were commenting on the sad state of the country around them, they noticed another herd of cattle browsing on Fuaran-na-Callanaich, about a mile from where they stood. Captain Campbell remarked, "I know whose cattle these are—they belong to Captain Chisholm of Prince Charlie's army. "When you take your own cattle away, drive his along with you, and tell Captain Chisholm of Knockfin to keep them out of my sight for the future, for if my men should bring them in to the camp he will never see them again." So much for Captain Campbell's sympathy with his Highland countrymen. The ancestor of mine here referred to was a young officer, and fought for the Stuarts under the Earl of Mar at Sheritl'muir. Ho fought again for the same unfortunate cause under the obstinate Murray at Culloden.

I stated in the same Gaelic address that the hated Major Lockhart of 1745 gave peremptory orders to the Chisholm's two sons, John and James —both of whom were commissioned officers in the Royal army—to bo ready the following morning to assist in burning their father's castle and estates. After the battle of Druimossie, or Culloden, the Royal army amused themselves by burning or otherwise destroying all that came within their reach on some of the Highland estates. Among the rest, Beaufort Castle and all the buildings on the Lovat estates were reduced to ashea There was a camp stationed on Convent Bank, another at Duny, and one at Raoiifearna, at Stray. Thence a strong party was sent to Glenstrathfarar, to burn and destroy everything that an invading army could destroy. This company was commanded by Captain Campbell, "Black Campbell of Argyle," whom the Jacobite poet, Alexander Macdo nald, and the Aireach Muileach, immortalised by alternate satire and eulogy. So completely did Campbell and his party do their work, that they drove before them to the newly-formed camp at Browlin every cow and animal worth eating, and burned every house and hut in the whole glen. But before burning them, the dwellings were ransacked by the soldiers, and any articles of value they found were carried by them to the camp at Browlin. After selecting such of the smaller valuables as were to be forwarded to the camp at Raonfearna, a white horse was loaded with a portion of the spoil and sent in charge of two red-coated soldiers across Bacidh—one of the hills which intervene between Glencannich and Glenstrathfarar, and the ridge of which is the boundary in that part


between, the lands of Chisholm and Lord Lovat. This road was probably chosen from motives of prudence and to avoid the burning embers of the smouldering villages through Glenstrathfarar. Whatever the motives, the expected security for the unfortunate soldiers turned out to be worse tban useless, inasmuch as they were met on the Chisholm's side of the hill by two Glenstrathfarar men close to a place called Ruidh-Bhacidh. These men disputed the right of the red-coats to the booty being carried on the white horse. As might bo expected mortal combat ensued, and one of the soldiers soon fell to rise no more. The other took to his heels with the speed of a hare before the hounds, leaving his pursuers far behind. He soon landed at Lub-mhor, a shieling between Leitrie and Cam. Here there were only women and children herding cattle. On the approach of the half-naked and half-maddened soldier, shouting and pra3'ing for protection and mercy, the women and children at the shieling took themselves off to the hills, and the soldier (if possible) increased his speed, following the course of the river, shouting and roaring throughout. The distance between Bacidh and Struy being about twelve miles, the fleet-footed red-coat got over the distance in a wonderfully short time. All who saw him in his flying terror, believing that ho was a raving maniac, cleared the way for him until he reached the camp at Eaonfearna. I shall leave him there to rest while I return to the scene of the combat at Bacidh.

An eye-witness detailed what took place, and it has been handed, down by tradition as follows:—When the runaway soldier out-distanced his savage pursuers, they turned back and quickly resumed their ugly work. To begin with, the white horse was brought to a bog, the valuables stript off his back, a pit dug, and a dirk thrust in each side of his heart, and the animal hurled out of sight in the pit. Another pit was hastil}" prepared for the dead soldier, and he was dragged by the legs and thrown into it. The eye-witness alluded to was a girl of the name of Cameron, who happened to be at the time herding her father's goats on the face of Tudar, an adjacent hill. From the first sight Cameron had of the red-coats she crouched down in a hollow to hide herself, and with wonderful presence of mind kept quiet in her hiding-place until she saw the corpse of a fellow-creature pulled by the ankles and thrown into the yawning bog. At that moment, however, she gave way to a terrible coronach, in frenzy left her hiding-placo and ran off. Seeing her, and alarmed at the unexpected discovery, the butchering gravediggers gave chase to the terrified girl, seized her, and questioned her as to the cause of her violent grief. She assured them that she fell asleep while herding her father's goats, and that now she could not find them, and she was sure to incur her mother's displeasure. With this excuse, and the hurry to finish their unholy work, they allowed her to return to Carri, where her father was a farmer.

Let me now give an idea of the commotion this foul tragedy at Bacidh caused throughout the four camps in the district, and in the principal one at Inverness. Every soldier and officer from Browlin to Inverness were seized with a determination to retaliate, and eagerly wished for an opportunity of avenging the death of their comrade in arms. The news was almost instantly conveyed to Major Lockhart, who was commanding officer at the time at Inverness. This officer ordered certain companies to bo ready next morning to accompany him to burn the country of the Chisholm, and among the officers whom he selected for thia

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expedition were John and James, the Chisholm's two sons. The seloction was considered harsh and cruel, even in military circles, and the sons had an interview with Major Locklnirt, urging him to institute such an enquiry as they were sure would bring the murderers of the soldier to condign punishment. To this course the brutal Major would not listen, and instantly ordered the young olficers out of his presence Nothing loss than tire and sword could satisfy the avenging cravings of this cruel officer. However, as he was about to rotire to bed that samo evening, a stray bullet found a billet in his body. He was hurled before his Maker in an instant, and tStrathglass has not yet been burnt. No one for a moment supposed that the death of the murdered soldier ought not to be avenged. Yet the fact of his being killed immediately as he crossed the boundary botween the lands of Lord Lovat and Chisholm could not justify any one out of a lunatic asylum to have recourse to fire and sword without the least regard to guilt or innocence. Probably Major Lockhart may have had discretionary power conferred upon him by King George or by the butcher Duke. But whoever gave him this power, it would appear that the Devil himself directed him in its application. Without the shadow of a doubt it was the immediate cause of his own destruction.

This Major Lockhart, who, by his cruelties on tliis occasion, has obtained an infamous notoriety, some time before this marched with a detachment into the country of the Macdonalds of Barisdale, and laid waste and destroyed their dwellings. Some of these poor poople had obtained protection from Lord Loudon; but the Major disregarded them, and told the people who bad thum that not even a warrant from Heaven should prevent him from executing his orders.* Any one not possessed of humanity is simply a barbarian, but a soldier without religion or humanity is a monster; especially when invested with authority to destroy life and property at pleasure, and equipped with the weapons of death.

To illustrate this statement let me give a short account of a cruel murder committed by a brutal soldier at a farm in Glencaunich, called Tonibuio. The tradition in the Glen is as follows:—The people on this club farm were shearing corn on the dell of Tombuie, when, to their terror, they saw a party of red coated soldiers just approaching their houses. Immediately they took themselves to the hills. But the frantic screaming of an unfortunate wife, who had gone to the field to assist her husband and family, reminded them that the baby was left asleep at homo. There was no way of reaching the house or extracting the poor infant before the soldiers could reach it. So the terrified people at Tombuie made all haste to the rocks at the east side of Glaic-na-Caillich. While thus concealed in the cliti's of the rocks eagerly watching every movement on the plains below, they saw one of the soldiers entering the house where the little one was peacefully asleep. It afterwards transpired that in drawing his sword out of its scabbard to despatch the innocent occupant of the cradle, the rays of the sun flashing on the polished metal reflected a blaze of light around the cradle. The innocent little creature clapped its tiny hands and laughed at the pretty light playing round its crib. At the sight of the baby's smiles his would-be executioner stood awed, and hesitating between the orders he had received and the dictates of conscience and

* I'lUlartorj's History of tho Highland Cliuis, p. 678.

humanity, he put his sword back into its scabbard, and was turning out of the house when he was met by a comrade, who questioned hiin as to whether he had found any person inside. Ho answered in the negative. This suspicious comrade, however, dashed into tho house, and horrible to relate, emerged out of it triumphantly carrying the mangled body of the infant translixetl on the point of his sword Not satisfied with this brutal act, the monster threatened to report his comrade who had just spared the life of the infant. His more humane companion, however, incensed at the fiendish spectacle before him, instantly unsheathed his sword, planted the point of it on the breast of the cowardly assassin, and vowed by heaven and earth that he would in another moment force the sword to the hilt through his merciless heart if he did not withdraw his threat, and promise on oath never to repeat it. Thus the dastardly ruffian was instantly compelled at the point of the sword to beg for his own execrable and diabolical life.

Hero is another case in point. At tho time the Clothing Act was in force, viz.—whon the filleadh-beag and breacan-uallach were unmeaningly proscribed by English law, or, as some old people used to say, by the fiat of President Forbes, a company of red-coated soldiers were loitering through Gloncannich, when thoy spied a young man dressed in kilt and tartan hose. Ho was at the time loading a sledge cart with black stem brackens for thatch. Two servant girls were assisting him in collecting the brackens. On their own unchallenged statement we have it carried down by tradition, that as they began to make the load, standing on an eminonco called Tom-na-cloielimoire, in Badan-a-gharaidh, half-way between Lietrie and Shalavanach, on placing the first armful of brackens in the cart tho young man alluded to turned suddenly round to them and exclaimed—" Oh! God! look at the dead man in the cart, look at his kilt, hose, and garters." Tho girls assured him they could see nothing but the brackens he had placed there. After a moment or two the young man owned that he could no longer see what a few minutes previously appeared to him to be the figure of a dead man.

After some chaffing from his assistants for his apparent credulity, he went on with tho load, arranged it on the cart, loading his horse down hill, and coming to the sido of a lake at Fasadh-coinntieh, at the end of which there is a small promontory jutting out into the water. When turning this point the kdted man observed for the first time that his movements were watched. He soon found himself surrounded on all sides by a cordon of soldiers, disposed in lino to prevent the possibility of his escape. Determined not to be caught alive or disgrace his dress by surrender, tho brave fellow took to the water and swam across, but while climbing a small rock on the opposite side he was fired at, fell back in the water, and perished in presence of his pursuers, The servants beforementioned, seoing tho dreadful deed, ran off and told the people of Lietrie what had happened to their friend His neighbours went at once to the spot and found his lifeless body at tho edge of the water where ho fell. They turned the brackens out of the sledge cart, placed the corpse in it just as it had been taken from the water dressed in kilt and hose, and the unfortunate man was carried to his own residence in the cart.

if there be no meaning or reality in the word "presentiment" or second

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